When your Volksie starts acting up in the Baviaanskloof, you have no choice but to make a plan, says Deon Strydom.
For the first 16 years of my life, once a month, my family packed the car and we spent a weekend in the Baviaanskloof. My grandparents were retired smallholders and lived on the farm Mistkraal. We lived in Port Elizabeth and the Baviaans was around the corner.
When we planned these visits, my parents never said they were "going to the Baviaanskloof". To them, they were "going home". They both grew up in the Kloof and only left to attend high school in Willowmore, and later to work in Port Elizabeth.
The Baviaanskloof lived up to its name: We often came across baboons on our travels. "As close to human as you can find," my dad used to say. We'd watch the baboons for a few minutes and he'd add: "Doesn't that one remind you of Uncle So-and-so?"
In the mid-1970s I went to study at what was then the University of Port Elizabeth. I drove a white Volkswagen Beetle with a UPE sticker on the back window - I was an Uppie through and through. I studied hard and had fun with my friends.
Shortly before our final exams, three friends and I decided to go hike in the Baviaanskloof - on Doringkloof farm, owned by the Smit family. We had enough free time before the exams and convinced our parents that a break ahead of our first paper would be the perfect remedy for tired, hardworking students.
I was in charge of our transport, probably because I was the eldest and appeared to be the most responsible. My Beetle was the most reliable vehicle we had at our disposal and I knew the road well. My friend Theuns handled the logistics of the hike and Pieter and Jakkie took care of our food and finances - they were the numbers guys.
And so, one morning in late spring, we packed the Beetle for the two-day trek, with enough supplies to last two weeks! We even took frozen meat so we could braai more than once a day. Thanks to Theuns, we were prepared for any possible emergency: matches, torches, batteries, first aid kit, insect repellent…
The only thing missing was antivenom.The four of us squeezed into the Beetle, trying to find space among our bags and food stuff. The jokes and wisecracks were flying and my dad couldn't help himself: "As close to a troop of baboons as you can find…"
We made our way through Patensie; the drifts and mountains lay ahead. The Beetle was the ideal vehicle to drive the series of sharp bends in the road. Despite our heavy load, we breezed over Combrink's Pass (the locals in the kloof call it "Commering's Pass") and through the Kouga Mountains. We drove slowly and pulled over often to take in the view, to swim and to eat padkos. It was mostly smooth sailing; we only got one flat tyre.
Sometimes, one of us had to wade through a drift to make sure the water wasn't too deep. Our scout would climb back into the Beetle with wet clothes.When we reached Doringkloof in the late afternoon, the Smits gave us a warm welcome, including coffee and rusks. Then we drove to a place where we could park the Beetle under a tree, and we started our hike. The first overnight spot was an overhang next to a rock pool in the river.
We braaied, swam some more and talked around the campfire like only students can do. We philosophised, argued, solved all the world's problems and went to bed long after midnight. The next day we hiked a circular route and spent the night at the same overhang.
Our two days in the mountains were over far too quickly and it was time for the return journey. We hiked the few kilometres back to the Beetle, packed up the food we hadn't manage to eat, and set off towards Patensie.
The Beetle cruised up and down the mountains. At one point it even looked as if we'd make it to Patensie before the co-op closed for the day. Jakkie had his eye on a pocketknife there.
But as we went down Combrink's Pass, I felt something was wrong. The Beetle drifted left, towards the void on the side of the pass. No matter how hard I pulled on the steering wheel, it wouldn't shift its course. I panicked because we'd be in trouble if it was another flat tyre - we'd already used the spare.
I pulled over and we got out. The Beetle's front wheels were pointing in different directions! Our fields of study were diverse, with subjects like literature, chemistry, finance and education, but none of us was mechanically inclined. Still, we knew enough to recognise trouble.
The car was going nowhere in its current condition. Back then (and even now to an extent) the road through the Baviaanskloof saw very little traffic. Our chances of being rescued were slim - as slim as finding a student well prepared for an exam.
Speaking of which, Theuns had to write his first paper in 16 hours' time…
But students also know how to make a plan. I was behind the wheel, Pieter was in the passenger seat to keep me company and shout directions to the others, and Jakkie and Theuns walked next to the left front wheel - between the mountainside and the car. They took turns to kick the wheel into place, so that it would turn with the right front wheel as intended.
By some miracle, we made it to the bottom of the mountain in this fashion. We drove into the first farm we saw. The farmer's wife was home and told us we'd have to wait until her husband returned for lunch. To pass the time, we tucked into her home-made biscuits. I called my mom and asked her to drive from PE to come and fetch my friends so they could get back in time for their exams.
An hour and a half later, my mom pulled up in her Ford Escort. She gave me a look, loaded up Theuns, Pieter and Jakkie, and left straight away. The farmer returned home shortly thereafter. I explained what had happened and he had a look at the Beetle. "It's the tie rod ends," he said and walked to the shed.
He came back with a pair of pliers and a piece of galvanised wire and crawled under the vehicle. Ten minutes later, the Beetle and I were ready to hit the road again. I thanked him and headed out. I got up to 100km/h with ease on the tar road outside Patensie, and near the western suburbs of PE I even overtook my mom and my friends in the Escort!
Theuns made it back just in time for his first exam and we feasted for three days on the food we didn't eat during the hike. The Beetle drove around with its galvanised-wire tie rod ends without a problem.
I only remembered them six months later, when I was about to sell the Beetle for a nice profit. My dad warned me: "You'd better put new tie rod ends in that car! You won't pass the roadworthy test without them…"
