Gouritz River report back

[Chris Shelton]

Last weekend Jasper, Eduard (Booger Rose)and I headed off on our long contemplated trip to the upper Gouritz.

On arrival at Eduard's house in Somerset West, we were treated to a king size meal of Eduard's secret recipe home-made 'Steer' burgers, huge chunky pure beef patties enveloping magnum sized rolls, with plenty of fresh garnish to go with it.

After a another generous second helping, we 'rolled' into Jasper's fully packed 4x4 Renault Scenic, tightened seat-belts around expanded bellies and the stage was set for what was to become a memorable weeked together.

Cresting the top of Sir Lowries Pass we were confronted by ominous looking clouds hanging low over the distant skyline, and we knew we were in for rain. This observation however did very little to dampen our already pre-inflated spirits and expectations.

As darkness approached, Eduard became suspiciously quiet, his expression becoming graver as we neared the foothills of the Rooiberge. The first wrong turn confirmed my suspicions when we were confronted by a sign board on the two spoor donkey track saying, "Trespassers will be shot and survivers will be shot again"! Eduard was scratching his head at this stage with a "I was sure we were on the right track, but something doesn't look right".

I had noticed another track a few kilometres back, but since I wasn't the navigator or driver, I only made light mention of it at the time, but Jasper seemed to know where he was going and took the left hand fork with such confidence that I didn't think to question any further. After a 10 point turn on the two-spoor track, we were finally headed back to the split in the road that I somehow knew would point us in the right direction again. At this point darkness descended upon us like a dark shroud and the air became heavy with the impending rain.

Fortunately Eduard's memory seemed to have returned as he directed us through a series of other less obvious obscure little turn-offs, each marked be a gate.

Arriving finally at a locked gate where a key was supposedly waiting for us under a 'pre-discussed and confimed' landmark. Eduard's expression turned ashen again as he fumbled around in search of 'said key' under the warm glow of the Scenic's headlights. At this point the heavens opened and the rain came bucketing down.

Needless to say, no key was to be found under said landmark, despite our most valiant efforts of 'willing it into being'. Perhaps a scorpion had carried it off, but if that was the case, all footprints to its new hiding place were quickly being obliterated in the resulting slush under our feet.

A hasty collective decision was made to seek shelter to make fire, settle in for the night and tackle the gate problem again in the morning.

Back on the beaten track in search of suitable shelter, a cellphone beeped and suddenly, amazingly, we had contact with humanity again. A few exchanges later and we were back on our way to the locked gate in search of a rock that we had all stepped onto dozens of times during our previous attempt at finding the key, so much so that it was now firmly imbedded in the mud and not visible, even to a trained eye like mine. Just short of probing with a 'soek steek stok', Eduard eventually stumbed upon the rock, euphorically and triumphantly holding the key on high like Francois Pienaar with the world cup in '94.

An interesting descent lay ahead of us to the river that we knew lay somewhere in the distant valley below, eventually converging into a ravine with water flowing ankle deep in places. Eduard and I jumped out to feel the ground under foot and lead Jasper down a track from hell. Once again that uneasy feeling....not the least being the fact that the 'ravine' was actually a 20 foot deep chasm of more than a km long all the way down to the river (that was still somewhere out there) that had obviously previously been carved out by a torrent of water!

Once again, a bewildered and lost look on Eduards face!

After a series of windy twists through the sheer walls on either size of us, and Jasper trundling along behind us like a faithful dog on a leash, the track started becoming increasingly more rocky and broken. Another decision was taken to leave Jasper behind whilst Eduard and I prospect further by foot in search of a way out onto the upper plateau of the dangerous rocky ravine. Supposedly there was a beautiful campsite up there somewhere...or so I was told. Eduard led the way with his hand held flashlight. My head-torch was still buried somewhere deep inside all the luggage in the Scenic,...so all I could do was follow. Another series of bends and twists, water underfoot, more rocks and holes, and suddenly we were at the rivers edge. From what we could make out, although flowing smoothly, the river was swollen, and with more rain on its way we decided that this would not be a good place to camp. So, back to a similar plan to our original plan A, find shelter on higher ground within the reserve, set up camp for the night and continue searching for the elusive track to the main campsite in the light of morning.

Another 20 point turn with the smell of burning clutch hanging heavily in the air and we were on our way out of the ditch from hell. To say the least, I was incredibly relieved to get the hell out of there!

A suitable stand of 'Soetdoring' was found that offered us reasonable protection from the brisk Northerly wind that had picked up with the onset of the rain, and we set about making fire. My small backpacking gaslamp fired up and immediately died as something lodged in the pin-prick of a jet, so there we were, one functional torch between the three of us as I fumbled around in the dark for my head-torch in amongst the carnage of luggage that was spilling out of the boot of the Scenic. Eduard finally managed to dig out his 12v flourescent-tube light and suddenly night became like day. Not for long though. Coinciding with pitch darkness again was the sound of tinkling glass as Jasper managed to trip over the chord and sent the flourescent light crashing to the ground.

And so there we were, pitching tent with head-torches that we had all finally managed to locate.

Everything upto this point had actually been an amazing adventure and the evening turned out to be extremely pleasant with the wind abating and the skies clearing. Despite the wrong turns and prior unpleasant conditions that we found ourselves in, we had all managed to maintain good spirits and had a most enjoyable evening together around the campfire drinking copious amounts of red wine.

Because of the temporary nature of our campsite, we only pitched one tent that all three of us would share sleeping quarters with. One of our party made a couple of hasty exits during the early hours to shoot some stray cats that had been plaguing him.

At daybreak, Eduard went out on a recce on his own to find the elusive track to the main campsite and came back an hour later with good and bad news. He had found the track, but the river looked unfishable! Since I was out to just enjoy a bit of nature again after many months of extreme stress in my life, this news didnt deter me in the least. I would have happily sat under a tree carving away at a stick the whole weekend for that matter. Jasper agreed that the fishing wasn't everything, and he too just needed some time out to relax and unwind.

Once again we entered the treacherous ravine and just 200 metres in came across a little jinx of a track going off to the right hand side. We had obviously missed it with the tunnel vision of our directional lighting in the darkness.

On arriving at a very pretty campsite under another stand of Soetdoring, we found ourselves contemplating the muddy looking water below us. Eduard told us that a bit further upstream, where the river narrows, and becomes shallower and rockier would possibly be a good spot to prospect for fish in the dirty water. We agreed, and promptly set to unpacking, making camp and tackling up.


A little while later, with rods assembled we headed on upstream



Eduard was the first to get into a fish with his excellent choice of orange fly, and took about 6 fish, a mixture of Bass, blue-gill and a yellow in six successive casts.



After a couple of fly changes, I eventually found a winning recipe that earned me two nice sized bass and Jasper started experimenting with some dead-drifting under an indicator and was also rewarded, many fish coming to hand after some of the most subtle little takes imaginable!


Leaving Jasper to continue murdering the fish with his deaddrift techniques, Eduard and I parted company further upstream. I discovered a shallow rocky bed where small yellows were frolicking, and willing takers of the fly. Eduard had ventured higher upstream and after a while returned. Crossing paths with Eduard again as I continued to explore higher up, I told him about the spot and he went on to catch about 30 of the little buggers on dry fly.

[Chris Shelton]

I really enjoyed just being out there and seeing what was to be seen. Although I caught a few fish on my mottly assortment of scrap flies, I must admit, I was very half hearted about the fishing, but that is me. Fishing has never been the be all and end all to me. So much stress of late, I really needed the break to just clear my head, and I enjoyed just being out and about in pristine nature again.


No trip to the Gouritz is complete without a stop over at Ronnies Sex Shop, and this is where Jasper showed his true colours!!


All in all, a wonderful exciting adventure, lots of fish caught, great company and some much needed rest. Eduard, Jasper, thanks for inviting me along guys, I truly appreciate it!!

[chris williams]

What a stunning report-back, I feel chilled out just reading it and looking at the pics, thanks guys!

[troutmaster]

Great report Chris.

After reading the report, returning to the vice, where I was busy after reading ['Tying flies with CDC' and most of Gary Lafontaine's 'Caddisflies'] - doesn't seem so exciting anymore

I long for water and fish and nature...

O ja, Jasper lyk cool in daardie T-shirt

[dlampert]

Nice report Chris, sorry I couldn't join you guys It's good to see that Jasper kept his pants on for the pics

[chris williams]

Nice report Chris, sorry I couldn't join you guys It's good to see that Jasper kept his pants on for the pics

With pursed lips like Jasper's in the pink T-shirt pic, he probably wouldn't need to take his rods off anyway...

[Chris Shelton]

Nice report Chris, sorry I couldn't join you guys It's good to see that Jasper kept his pants on for the pics

Hi Darryl. Thanks. Sorry I missed your call yesterday. I just listened to your message now. At least you got to read the report which hopefully makes up for my poor response. Big moves afoot at the moment. Will chat in the week. Cheers boet.

[Booger Rose]

Nice report Chris - we were lucky with last week, it sounds as if the river is in flooding at the moment.

Ja, sorry about the trippie, but in the end it was part of the fun and we did have a lekker braai with great hunting stories!

[poppernel]

HI Chris,

I really enjoyed reading that, nice going you guys.

DAVE

[Buf Aloe]

Nice report back Chris. Sounds like you guys had a blast.
I agree with you, just being out in nature is a big part of the event. We are indeed lucky that we are able to arrange trips like this in relative safety.

Those late night cats can be real problem especially when snuggling up close and personal with a mate in haze of red wine- one never knows if the escape is going to be J.I.T (just in time) or not.

Ps I only seem to be able to view to first 2 images??