Tag Archives: ross hofmeyr

Rambles from the Road – Mpumalanga’s Panorama Route

My delightful and talented wife has been invited to present her Masters dissertation at a conference which is being held this week at a hotel bordering on the Kruger Park. To her credit, she invited me to come along, so with a week of leave in hand we flew off to Lanseria (near Johannesberg) and took a hired car into the hinterland. If you know my approach to hired cars (“They make the best 4×4’s”) you’ll already be imagining where this could take us…

Due to other commitments, Fran flew up 18 hours ahead of me, and being a sweet and doting husband I of course insisted that she take my new pride-and-joy GPS. It’s been more than five years since I had a new GPS, so I’m suitably excited about this one. (At this point, female readers are wondering what I’m on about, and the males are nodding appreciatively). In any case, I may as well go and buy another, as by the time I reached Gauteng it had a name (“Hannah” – it’s a Garmin Montana, capiche?) and has been claimed forever by my better half. True to her gentle and understanding nature, I am still allowed to program geocaches and press buttons if I ask nicely.

We have two days free time to get to Kruger and no commitments along the way. As a result, we have always been exactly where we wanted to be: wandering. Last night brought us (via various roadside stalls and geocaches) to the Blyde River Canyon, where we stayed surrounded by scores of polite, pale European tourists and perversely red-arsed baboons, in fairly equal proportions. At least the Germans and their consorts did not leave a calling card on our patio table to enhance the aroma of our morning coffee.

In the many intervening years since I last laid eyes on the Blyderivier it has lost none of its beauty, and has gained or retained an appellation I had not remembered: third largest canyon in the world. It is exceeded only by the Grand and Fish River Canyons, and is certainly the greenest of the three. What did surprise me was the quality of the surrounding attractions: either Mpumalanga Tourism or the Blyde River Canyon Nature Reserve has excelled in making sure that the various resorts, viewpoints and other amenities are neat, staffed and functional. They deserve much commendation, especially for the way in which (at least in appearance) the local communities have been integrated in managing and maintaining the attractions. I hope tourism in the area continues to thrive.

The road calls again; more to follow later!

Dawn Patrol

The last two days I have eschewed my ‘new’ habit of cycling to work in favour of a much earlier start, but a greater reward: powered paraglider “Dawn Patrols”. Keith Pickersgill of Xplorer PPG invited me to join them in flying from Kreeftebaai just south of Melkbosstrand on Monday at 05h15 (just in time to catch sunrise from the air), and it was such a success we repeated the effort this morning, with 6-8 pilots each time. It means a four o’clock start from home for me, about an hour’s flying and then quick pack to be back in the car in the notorious West Coast traffic to arrive in ICU by 0730… but what a payout 😉

I flew with the new Go Pro HD Hero 2 for the first times, and will hopefully get around to putting a little video together, but here are some quick frame grabs from this morning:

Skimming along over the waves shortly after launching (and remembering to activate the helmet camera…)

Climbing up to meet the sunrise over the beach south of Melkbos

Ground-skimming through the veld at first light

Dawn patrollers

800ft over Melkbos on the way to work 😉

Gratuitous flying

Apologies to people reading this who are not paraglider or hang-glider pilots… it may not make much sense (but then again, does your life make sense if you’re not a free-flying pilot?  Think about it…)

I was blessed with an actual day off today, and even more fortuitously one on which my wife is stuck in the hospital on call, so I could fly without any smidgen of guilt.  After consulting the wind gods (aka windfinder, windgurur, xcskies etc) I elected to head for Llandudno (aka Little Lion’s Head) so that any and all non-Sport rated pilots could join in.  Not wanting to miss the window of opportunity, come 09h00 this morning I was comfortably ensconced at a coffee shop on the Camp’s Bay beachfront, and soon thereafter joined by Niel Marx and his beau, Tessa.  Due to the entire lack of atmospheric air velocity, we breakfasted in style, interrupted only by calls from Gavin Ashwell and Ian Cowie seeking advice regarding our movements, and a surprise encounter with Ant Allen in his pink-and-white cycling tights.  (Fortunately I am a medical professional and was not too perturbed by this sight.)

Come 10h15 we decided that the skies had decided to shift from nothing to light NE, and therefore the progression to N then NW could be expected.  We embarked for Llandudno, leaving a car at the bottom, and headed up to launch.  Gavin planned to meet us there, but Ian and Ant elected to aim for a PPG flight at Soetwater (near Kommetjie) instead.

The short and pleasant stroll to take-off at LLH behind us, we found a strong breeze (perhaps 25km/h) at the mast, and after briefing Niel I suggested we move to the traditional takeoff, where it was a little lighter.  The wind was now a steady N.  I launched and climbed easily, spotting Gavin on his way to the takeoff.  Niel launched and was soon searing easily, but aloft it was evident that the expected NW wind gradient was in force, and he (sensibly, on a 1/1-2) elected to stay well in front of the mountain.  Gavin was soon climbing, too.

Due to my chronic itchyfootitis, I felt the compulsion to cross to Karbonkelberg, where the high north-facing cliffs promise easy lift to the wandering pilot.  Before long I was kicking my heels above 950m of clear winter air, watching Niel and Gavin fly out to land at Llandudno beach.  Both felt that their penetration was poor; I was in less compressed air (further from the Apostles) and still quite comfortable off speed-bar.  Trying to jump back to Little Lion’s Head, however, was not easy:  I lost 250m for little real progress and scuttled back to the lift at Karbonkelberg.


Clearly the very northerly wind precluded a run down the Apostles, so I was left with a choice:  try hard to get back onto LLH, perhaps landing at Sandy Bay in the process (hardly a hardship unless the old-and-wrinkly brigade was out in force), or try something I’d been itching to do for a long time:  go over the back into Hout Bay and fly further south.  A quick radio call to Niel/Tessa confirmed that they were willing to drive chase (Tessa does really like driving the Pajero), and so Plan B went into action.  I plunged into the best lift over Karbonkelberg on half bar and climbed up to 950m ASL before slipping round the corner into Hout Bay (see the panoramic picture – click on the image for much more detail).

The ride across the valley was swift and beautifully smooth, losing less than 200m altitude, and soon I could climb out again on the western flank of Constantiaberg.  From 900m again I set off over Hout Bay itself, giving Noordehoek Peak a very wide berth (to avoid eagle disturbance) and aiming directly for Chapman’s Peak.

Arriving at over 700m, I didn’t find much lift, and so put the northerly at my back and headed for Kommetjie.  I had a vague hope of getting onto Slangkop and from there to Misty Cliffs, but although I went overhead Kommetjie at 300m ASL this wasn’t enough height to get lift again, so I landed near the main road… about 500m short of bettering Abe Meyer’s distance record (who narrowly beat Ant Allen… it’s a cut-throat world in the South Peninsula).  Interestingly, if you look at the paths of my two last XC flights in the area (starting quite close but heading in opposite directions), both are almost exactly 22km.  Curious.

In any case, Tessa and Niel (bless them) were hot on my trail, and by taking a quick minibus ride I met them in Noordehoek.  (“Vyf Rand Vishoek toe, Meneer!”  “Wat as ek net Noordehoek toe wil ry?”  “Net vyf Rand dan, Meneer!”). Along the way I was cussed properly by every PG pilot who phoned to hear how the wind was (Not mentioning names: you know who you are).  It was by now blown out at LLH, but a light shone in the windy darkness:  Adam West (chairman of the HG club, for those not in the know) called and was enlivened to hear that the NW had appeared, and was headed to Signal Hill.  We deciede to go check it out.

Needless to say, wonderful flying was had at Sigs (several tandems also in attendance) before the wind backed off and left nothing else to do but raise glasses to a great day down at Mouille Point.  I still think I owe T&N more beers, but more is nog ‘n dag.

Random Photo – Welcome to South Georgia

Right Whale Bay on South Georgia - diversity, desolation, life and death

South Georgia is without doubt one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited.  I first set foot there in Right Whale Bay, late one summer evening, and was confronted with pandemonium – more seals than I had ever seen before, mixed with more penguins than I could comprehend, surrounded by other birds on the ground and the wing combining to create a cacophony amidst a visually overwhelming background of sheer splendour:  beauty, terrifying austerity, diversity, desolation,death, and life in abundance.

Random Photo – Ice in Cierva Cove

It’s not only the wildlife in Antarctica that is photogenic: the landscapes, sea and ice combine in innumerable ways to create awesome beauty.  While slowly cruising around Cierva Cove on the western side of the Antarctic Peninsula, the groups was captivated by a pair of crab-eater seals.  Turning around, I shot the sculpted ‘bergs beneath a brooding sky instead.  I don’t shoot in black-and-white often, but the emotion was unmistakable unavoidable.

Cierva Cove under a brooding sky in black and white

Random Photo – Caracara

On New Island in the Falklands, this Striated Caracara became very curious while I lay in the grass and watched the clouds drift past.  The ‘Johnny Rook’ has a bad rep – some would say well-deserved – but I found them charismatic and delightful… perhaps because they, too, are a little rough around the edges.

Caracara wondering if I am available for lunchClick the image to enlarge; click here to learn more about this interesting bird.

Random Photo – Giant Petrel

For the want of time (ok, let’s face it: self-discipline) to write posts, I thought I’d start trying to regularly post excerpts from my photographic collection.  It is very likely that the photographs will not be contemporaneous, as  I’m seldom ready to post pictures while still travelling, but hopefully they will be interesting.

Today’s image is from my last expedition with Cheeseman’s Ecology Safari’s to the Falkland Islands, South Georgia, South Orkneys, South Shetlands and Antarctic Peninsula.  It was taken at sea, shooting from the stern of the Polar Star, of one of the most ubiquitous Southern Ocean birds, the Giant Petrel (aka ‘Jeep’, from ‘GP’).  Flight photography from the stern of a pitching ship is always entertaining and frustrating at the same time, but I really enjoy the composition of the shot:  I tried for hours to get another bird in the frame in a position that is ‘just right’.  Shot with Canon DSLR and 300mm lens, hand-held.

Giant Petrel on the wing, shot somewhere in the Southern OceanClick on the image for a larger view.