Up The Pass

No three words ring louder for Obie Oberholzer. Up. The. Pass. The Grootrivier Pass. From his home in Nature’s Valley, up it leads through ancient yellowwoods to the plateau at the top. Where many things happen

Yes, no three words in my limited vocabulary ring so clear. They conjure up adventure and the yearning to set off on new journeys of discovery, to go beyond the regular, to follow and live new dreams.

Thus, with regularity, up the pass I must go. My wife and I say it often, “Just quickly going up the pass…” To Plett, to the Crags (to collect post), to fetch milk, to buy plants.

My parents used to say it when they lived here in Nature’s Valley many years ago. In the early 1970s my father bought a plot in this coastal village for R5 000 and built a double-storey brick house for R6 000. In writing this I am so struck by the absurdity of these numbers that I spend the next two hours finding the papers in our disorderly archives. For there, indeed, written in fountain-pen ink, is a sepia coloured document showing these exact amounts.

That’s the moment Lynn walks in, catching me grinning widely. “Why are you grinning like that? It can only mean trouble,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I am going up the pass,” I roll back, “I am going to photograph up there.” She slips on her worn Birkenstocks, “Well, I am coming with you.”

So we climb into the bakkie and drive up the Grootrivier Pass. First it winds through some of the most pristine Afromontane forest on planet Earth, where the enormity of some of the old yellowwoods brings us great joy. These forests have been undisturbed for eons and are now part of the Tsitsikamma National Park.