I have often been asked what my scariest experience has been in the Drakensberg. My opinion has not changed over the years, following three ultimately failed attempts to reach Devils Tooth Cave in Devils Tooth Gully at the Amphitheatre. This forbidding and sinister looking peak is usually the domain of very experienced rock climbers as the 'Tooth' is regarded by mountaineers as the peak of peaks in Southern Africa. Peter Hilder who was my partner at the time had a fascination in reaching the cave which is situated 250 metres below the nek of Devils Tooth and the Eastern Buttress. Although I did not share that dream, I was, as always up for the challenge.
All three attempts took place within a few months of each other during the latter part of 2011. We naively thought that it would take a day to reach the cave via the gully route and set off with hiking friends, Stephan and Christine Terblanche. We encountered extremely difficult terrain that involved endless boulder hopping and scrambling as well as massive waterfalls that required climbing out on to vertical grassy slopes to bypass them. We eventually called it a day after a thickly iced gully and waterfall prevented us from going any further without ropes. Years later I read this extract from 'Serpent Spires' ( Duncan Souchon)
So, none the wiser Pete and I were back a few weeks later and this time we overnighted in Tunnel Cave which is situated in the Tugela Gorge area as this would give us a head start for the climb the following day. Nature had other ideas and we awoke to find the Amphitheatre covered with snow that had fallen overnight. After spending a few hours slipping and sliding on iced up boulders, conditions were just too difficult to continue and we retreated.
Our final attempt took place in a good weather window and this time we came more prepared with rope and abseiling gear. I had abseiled a few times previously but was hardly an expert. We again overnighted in Tunnel Cave where we were visited by a hungry Genet Cat during the night. He could smell the meatballs in my backpack and we captured him on camera! We set off the following morning and made steady but slow progress, advancing further than we had on our first attempt. We put up our tent at the foot of a dry thirty metre waterfall in a rocky riverbed with the intention of continuing upwards the next day. Although the plan had always been to sleep in Tooth Cave, we decided to leave the tent and daypacks in the gully and take daypacks and climbing gear up to the cave, and then return to the tents later that day. Despite this, we took hours and hours and progress was very slow due to the endless rock scrambles and difficult terrain with plenty of exposure in places. Just after 2pm were were at the base of the Devils Tooth itself, an enormous rock pinnacle, but there was still some way to go and the going was not getting any easier. The cave is situated high up adjacent to the Tooth and we could not even see it from our position. We made the decision to turn around as we needed to get back down to our tent before sundown. We only had one abseiling harness between the two of us which made things very slow. Dusk was setting in very quickly and the penultimate abseil down steep loose ground was more guesswork than anything else as I couldn't see very much in the gathering gloom. Our last obstacle was the monster thirty metre waterfall just above our camp site. Neither of us had our head torches, and only a light windbreaker with the temperature starting to plummet. We had used a friction knot on the abseil rope (Prussik knot) as a back up safety device but it fell off as I was tieing on. We improvised and used a piece of webbing in its place. Over the edge I went into the darkness below. To make matters more tense we were not exactly sure if we would have sufficient rope as it was only thirty metres long and we could only guess at the height of the waterfall. All went well for the first couple of metres but then the webbing Prussik knot jammed and I was left suspended against the rock face. Despite my best efforts, it would not budge and I really thought we would have to call out Mountain Rescue! I tried again, putting all my weight on the rope and it moved a few centimetres. Eventually after what seemed like a good half hour of heaving and grunting effort I reached the foot of the rock wall, luckily with just enough rope to spare. My next mission was to try and find the tent in the blackness of the gully with huge boulders and obstacles everywhere. I eventually located it ( who would have thought that backpack buckles are so difficult to open in the dark?) and sent a head torch and the harness back up to Pete who was still waiting up on the ledge above the waterfall. Some two hours later we were both eventually safe and settled in the tent, nursing bruises and thankful to have escaped without serious injury, or worse.
Will I ever be back for another attempt? A definite no!
