By Roxanne Reid
A one-legged flying doctor. A madman who lugs a car over the mountain to a place without roads. These are the kind of stories you’ll find among the silence and solitude at Gamkaskloof near Prince Albert in the Karoo, otherwise known as The Hell.
A one-legged flying doctor. A madman who lugs a car over the mountain to a place without roads. These are the kind of stories you’ll find among the silence and solitude at Gamkaskloof near Prince Albert in the Karoo, otherwise known as The Hell.
Imagine it. A farmer living in an isolated valley gets seriously bitten while castrating his donkey. A one-legged doctor flies to the rescue in his Tiger Moth, landing without brakes on a makeshift strip, but the farmer resists getting into the ‘ungodly’ contraption to be taken to hospital until he's threatened with a giant syringe. Against his expectation, he survives the flight – and the bite.
Years earlier, another farmer set out to get new wheels for his wagon. He walked 60 kilometres to Calitzdorp and back again rolling two wheels. Then he returned for two more. This fertile valley was so isolated that everything had to be carried over the mountains, whether it was wagon wheels, a heavy black-iron Dover woodstove, a millstone – or even a motorcar.
Years earlier, another farmer set out to get new wheels for his wagon. He walked 60 kilometres to Calitzdorp and back again rolling two wheels. Then he returned for two more. This fertile valley was so isolated that everything had to be carried over the mountains, whether it was wagon wheels, a heavy black-iron Dover woodstove, a millstone – or even a motorcar.
The rusted remnants of the Morris V8 that was manhandled over the mountains in 1958 --before a road was built.
Hold on: if the valley is so isolated that there’s no road on which to drive the car in, why would you need a car at all?
This wasn’t a question that bothered Marthiens Snyman back in 1958. Four years before an access road was built a team of men and donkeys lugged his Morris V8 over the mountains, through streams and sand. All so he could trundle up and down just 20 kilometres of track from farm to farm in the valley.
This wasn’t a question that bothered Marthiens Snyman back in 1958. Four years before an access road was built a team of men and donkeys lugged his Morris V8 over the mountains, through streams and sand. All so he could trundle up and down just 20 kilometres of track from farm to farm in the valley.
Elands Pass twists nearly 1000m down into the valley below.
It’s the spirit of these hardy people we set out to find when we took the Gamkaskloof turnoff near the top of the historic Swartberg Pass. It led us on to the 57-kilometre gravel road built in 1962 to open up the Gamkaskloof valley to the outside world.
A new road to The Hell
The dirt road was initially deceptively wide and flat. Then it got more serious at Elands Pass. Steep zig-zags wobbled down the mountainside as we dropped nearly 1000m to the valley floor. Praying not to pass another car on one of the toe-curling bends – the road wasn’t wide enough so one of us would be reversing a way down a road that was alarming enough in forward gear – we arrived in Gamkaskloof two and a half hours later.
A new road to The Hell
The dirt road was initially deceptively wide and flat. Then it got more serious at Elands Pass. Steep zig-zags wobbled down the mountainside as we dropped nearly 1000m to the valley floor. Praying not to pass another car on one of the toe-curling bends – the road wasn’t wide enough so one of us would be reversing a way down a road that was alarming enough in forward gear – we arrived in Gamkaskloof two and a half hours later.
Chinese lanterns bloom in pink profusion. Aloes, euphorbias, the honeybush and cancer bush are also among the valley’s 4500 plant species.
We found an uncharacteristically lush Karoo valley where a small, self-sufficient farming community lived in isolation for more than 100 years. Access was only on foot or horseback, and the farmers’ harvests of dried fruit and wild honey were carried out to surrounding towns by donkey. They also grew wheat, rye, tobacco, nuts and grapes, and kept goats.
For them, the coming of the road was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it became easier to transport goods in and out of the valley, and a curse because it heralded the gradual erosion of a way of life that had survived since the first farm was established here in 1841. By 1980 the school was closed. The last farmer bade farewell to the valley in 1991.
For them, the coming of the road was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it became easier to transport goods in and out of the valley, and a curse because it heralded the gradual erosion of a way of life that had survived since the first farm was established here in 1841. By 1980 the school was closed. The last farmer bade farewell to the valley in 1991.
The tiny schoolhouse was closed in 1980.
The inappropriate name ‘The Hell’ is generally attributed to a stock inspector whose monthly trek into Gamkaskloof to check for disease saw him negotiating the infamously steep path known as ‘the ladder’. Apparently he claimed it was like ‘going to hell and back’. The name stuck, to the disapproval of the people who lived in the kloof.
One story – and there are many of these well-spiced tales from the old days – describes how Hendrik Mostert received an income tax assessment addressed to him at ‘The Hell’. Furiously he scrawled ‘Do people in hell pay income tax?’ across the envelope and flung it back into the postbox.
One story – and there are many of these well-spiced tales from the old days – describes how Hendrik Mostert received an income tax assessment addressed to him at ‘The Hell’. Furiously he scrawled ‘Do people in hell pay income tax?’ across the envelope and flung it back into the postbox.
There's a photo display about Gamkaskloof and its people in the Fransie Pienaar Museum in Prince Albert
How to become a local
Nowadays the valley is part of CapeNature’s Swartberg Nature Reserve and visitors can stay in one of eleven restored homes.
On our first visit some years ago we were greeted with coffee and chat by the irrepressible Zannie van der Walt, who was a mine of information about a forgotten way of life. He’d lived for more than a decade at Ouplaas (the oldest farm in the valley, which later became CapeNature’s office) and he’d already picked up the Gamkaskloofers’ quirky sense of humour.
Asked if the people were short – because anyone over about 1.65m has to bend to get through the doors – he chuckled, ‘No, the menfolk just knew they should approach their wives with a respectful bow.’ Then he admitted it had more to do with the available trees not always being tall enough to make high door frames.
Nowadays the valley is part of CapeNature’s Swartberg Nature Reserve and visitors can stay in one of eleven restored homes.
On our first visit some years ago we were greeted with coffee and chat by the irrepressible Zannie van der Walt, who was a mine of information about a forgotten way of life. He’d lived for more than a decade at Ouplaas (the oldest farm in the valley, which later became CapeNature’s office) and he’d already picked up the Gamkaskloofers’ quirky sense of humour.
Asked if the people were short – because anyone over about 1.65m has to bend to get through the doors – he chuckled, ‘No, the menfolk just knew they should approach their wives with a respectful bow.’ Then he admitted it had more to do with the available trees not always being tall enough to make high door frames.
Our ‘hosts’ Piet and Bellie’s house.
These eccentricities of design are what make staying in one of the houses so fascinating today. Our ‘hosts’ (as Zannie referred to them) were Piet and Bellie, whose house near the stream was built with unbaked bricks and had a ceiling of reeds bound with strips of acacia bark. The windows had no glass panes – nor would yours if you had to carry the glass for miles over steep mountains – but were closed with handmade wooden shutters.
Looking down on Piet and Bellie's house from a koppie.
There was a spirit of tranquillity and timelessness. Of silence, solitude and a sense of history. We sat at our fire at dusk listening to baboons bark in the krantzes above, woke at dawn to enjoy coffee in the company of gossiping birds, or sat in an afternoon doorway, drugged by the slanting sun, content to stare at nothing.
So many stories
I was thrilled to be there after the anecdotes I’d read about the valley and its people. Put aside the stories of inbred hillbillies and focus instead on a wedding reception under a tree, drinking fresh milk from a goat’s teat while herding, and a fiercely independent farmer who couldn’t drive but nonetheless bought a bakkie once the road was opened and got someone else to drive him – because in his own vehicle he was boss.
So many stories
I was thrilled to be there after the anecdotes I’d read about the valley and its people. Put aside the stories of inbred hillbillies and focus instead on a wedding reception under a tree, drinking fresh milk from a goat’s teat while herding, and a fiercely independent farmer who couldn’t drive but nonetheless bought a bakkie once the road was opened and got someone else to drive him – because in his own vehicle he was boss.
Gamkaskloof in days gone by - part of the Fransie Pienaar Museum's collection in Prince Albert.
Or the skelms who, wanting a dram of someone else’s witblits, drilled small holes in his barrel, pushed in wheat straws, drank their fill and reclosed the holes, smearing them with dirt to camouflage the skulduggery. All the owner found when he opened the empty barrel was a veritable porcupine of straws.
Or the tale of energetic Tant Lenie. Just 12 days after a hysterectomy in Oudshoorn hospital she caught the bus to the top of Swartberg Pass and walked nearly 60 kilometres home, carrying her suitcase and wading up to her armpits through swollen mountain streams.
Or the tale of energetic Tant Lenie. Just 12 days after a hysterectomy in Oudshoorn hospital she caught the bus to the top of Swartberg Pass and walked nearly 60 kilometres home, carrying her suitcase and wading up to her armpits through swollen mountain streams.
Feisty Tant Lenie built her house with her own hands.
Perhaps my favourite story is one that demonstrates the Gamkaskloofers’ rouguish sense of humour. At the opening of the new road, an ‘outsider’ making polite conversation asked Koot Cordier how many children he had. ‘One wife and three and a half-dozen children,’ he shot back. He wasn’t lying: he had nine kids.
Koot Cordier’s house - he of the three and a half-dozen children - perched above his meadows, orchards and goat pens.
It’s ironic that Gamkaskloof is being kept alive today by the very ‘outsiders’ who so irked the close-knit community in earlier days, coming to gawk at them as though they were creatures from another planet.
But I was grateful for the chance to discover the true reason why this paradise is called The Hell: it’s hell when you have to leave it behind.
But I was grateful for the chance to discover the true reason why this paradise is called The Hell: it’s hell when you have to leave it behind.
Some of the Gamkaskloofers never left their valley.
What to do
Need to know
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- Fish in the Gamka River if you have a freshwater angling licence.
- Do the 6km interpretive walking trail.
- Walk the 26km (3-night) slack-packing donkey trail from Calitzdorp into the valley.
- Take your binos and go bird watching for species like black, fish and martial eagles, Cape sugarbird and pied kingfisher.
- Be alert and see if you can spot animals like buck, baboon, even leopard or caracal.
- Go plant-spotting for some of the 4500 species that grow here.
- This is the big-sky Karoo, so don’t miss the chance for some star gazing after dark.
- Visit the museum and info centre at Ouplaas (reception area).
Need to know
- To book a stay at Gamkaskloof, phone CapeNature on tel 021 483-0190.
- To find out more about the Swartberg Nature Reserve and its hiking trails, download CapeNature’s brochure.
- On your way into or out of the valley it’s well worth stopping at the Fransie Pienaar Museum in Prince Albert to find out more about the people who lived in Gamkaskloof.
- For more to do in Prince Albert, see 15 things to do in Prince Albert, Karoo.
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You may also enjoy:
Cape Nature reserves: from Cederberg to Kogelberg and more
Drive the Swartberg Pass in the Karoo
Meet the ghosts of Prince Albert in the Karoo
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za
Cape Nature reserves: from Cederberg to Kogelberg and more
Drive the Swartberg Pass in the Karoo
Meet the ghosts of Prince Albert in the Karoo
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za
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