Yesterday I decided to go to Oudtshoorn to do some shopping.  Just outside Prince Albert I saw the sign : “Oudtshoorn via Meiringspoort 106 km / Oudtshoorn via Swartberg Pass 67 km”.I had not put petrol into my faithful Sparky so I thought what the heck and headed for the SwartbergPass.

The doubt set in when I realized it was a very narrow gravel road but it was breathtakingly beautiful. Initially typical Karoo veld seamed the road with bright patches of vygies here and there – blotches of cerise, yellow and white. Then it was as if my sassy red Chevrolet (affectionately known as Sparky) and I were heading right into the mountain. Magnificent rocky slabs towered on either side of the twisting road – a wild array of colours:  browns and yellows and every where different shades of green. Vegetation, trees and aloes growing all the way up to the highest peaks in the tiny crevices and cracks.

Beautiful trees marked the flow of a clear, sparkling mountain stream. I could hear it and feel the cool air as I had rolled down my window despite the dust. I focussed on negotiating the twisty turns constantly looking out for oncoming traffic so that I could stop at one of the bays on the shoulder of the road provided to allow vehicles to pass one another.

Bright red and pink wild gerainiums lined the path and sure enough one of the many signs along the way read: “Malvadraai”.

As we wound our way up the pass I could see the bends and twists of the road and the packed stone construction of the road ahead. Markers and boards pointed to hiking trails and other conservation points of interest as we made our way ever higher through changing terrain. Construction workers at various places  greeted me with raised hands and smiles. I felt they might be a bit surprised to see a woman in a plucky red car travelling this infamous road.  Most of the few vehicles, we encountered were 4×4’s with men oozing testosterone as they barged past us as we politely waited.

Near the top of the pass there was a turnoff to Gamkaskloof better known as Die Hel with a dire warning that it was a two hour trip.

As I began to make my way down the other side of the pass in awe of the beauty I had passed and the blue and green patchwork valley that lay below I was moved to tears. The magnificence of the mountain pass and the kaleidoscope of vistas cannot be descibed in mere words.

I could not help thinking that though the road less travelled may be more challenging in some ways I hope that I will always have the courage to choose it. On the sraight and easy road it is easy to become complacent and miss the magic along the way.