Tankwa Karoo Camino 256 km 2 Provinces 10 days desert trek: cause; Red Cross Children's Hospital Day 8: 13 May 2016

Day 8 Tankwa Camino - Some time for inward refection..

My little friend - this was my pillow and reminded me every day why I was doing this!

The thick mist rolling in over the mountains.

I woke up this morning after a long night of very little sleep and much tossing and turning. I did not actually feel well, my face, hands and feet were swollen. The blisters were under control and were drying up nicely so I knew I did not have an infection. I could not bend my knees at all and had difficulty in getting off my blow-up mattress. In all my years of hiking, trekking, marathon and cross-country running and crazy adventures I had never experienced anything like this. It was foreign to me. My calves felt as hard as a rock, but luckily they were not hot. There was no gap between the underpart of my toes and balls of my foot, they just looked like one solid object. The bones in my feet felt deeply bruised. I know I should have probably not started this walk with an injury which I had been nursing for about 6 weeks. I really thought I had this one under control and do not usually suffer from sore feet, so this was a great shock to me. I do get blisters but not hectic ones and a little swelling of the hands and feet and cramping on long hikes. I had walked up Kilimanjaro for the second time recently and did not get any blisters until the last day on the way down. I had been suffering from plantar fasciitis in both my feet which was triggered from my poor fitting safety boots (really need a new pair and have orthotics put in). The hard pounding daily had now increased the fasciitis (inflammation) up the back of my legs but luckily not into my lower back yet. I felt as though I was walking on hot coals and my arches burned continuously. I was really concerned that a stress fracture in my left foot was now developing and Elbrus was only 2 months away. I could not afford to mess up my feet Period.

The sun filtering through the clouds

It had rained during the night and tents and equipment ended up wet so the trucks were going to make their way early to the next night camp and hopefully some catch some sun rays and dry out tents.

When you do things for charity and are in the public eye, you are always open to criticism from other people who would like to see you fail to prove their point or views about you. I have never confessed to be an athlete, nor an iron woman. I am simply a normal 50 year old woman going through menopause, a wife, a mother who happens to have a really cool job saving lives and property and likes to go on adventures to stretch my soul and being on my off days. In particular I love mountains, I find my soul up there and an inner peace that I cannot find anywhere else. I leave my bad calls up there, the souls of those that I could not save and come back down feeling like the weight of the world has been lifted and I can start all over again. It is like a good drug and I cannot get enough of it. What you see is what you get. I don't harbour regrets nor grudges, you either like me or you don't either way it does not ever alter the fact that I love life, adventures and I do things my way. That regardless my daily goal is simple: to be happy. A happy me means a happy wife, a happy mom, a happy paramedic, a happy human!

Part of not wanting to rest today was for this reason, the people who hoped that I would fail, those who think I should not be doing what I do, should not call myself an adventurer. I think working alone and being the only female paramedic working in the dangerous inner city slums of Johannesburg CBD, Hillbrow, Jeppestown and surrounds, which includes the notorious Jeppes Men's Hostel, George Goch Men's hostel, Denver Hostel and squatter camps, being shot at, had guns held to my head many times, surviving an attempted rape and entering burning buildings, hanging off ropes and crawling under trains and cutting up cars with the jaws somehow qualifies me oh and then there is the outdoor and the mountains. Oxford Dictionary: "adventurer - a person who enjoys or seeks adventure - a person willing to take risks" So I think it's safe to say I live an adventurous life, hell my everyday is an adventure. Sometimes you really just have to rise above those people and know that they have issues not you. I know my heart in the right place, my reasons are pure and I found my purpose and this is what keeps me going from adventure to adventure. I hope that through my adventures other women my age and older are inspired to find their purpose in their lives. To go out and do good instead of complaining about everything that is wrong find something right to do. To the overweight ladies, to the ladies who have self-worth issues you are why I do this. If I can you can. Life is an adventure how you choose to live it is up to you..

I knew that there was absolutely no way that I was going to put boots on today and tried to fit my sandals on which also was not very successful. The universe was trying to tell me something! I could not walk barefoot and it was still raining a little and the roads muddy. My toes were cold and the circulation was not looking good. When I walked on them I had pins and needles in my feet. I went and hobbled to the mess tent and got coffee and breakfast hoping that walking a bit would improve the circulation and the swelling would reduce somewhat. I met up with Wicus who had really mean and infected blisters and he told me he was sitting out for the day and would walk tomorrow and that I should really do the same. I was still undecided and had to look really hard at myself and make the decision as a responsible Paramedic and not a thick headed adventurer. In my line of work when you stop someone dies, so it is not in my DNA. It took me 2 hours of walking around, pondering, reexamining my feet, talking to a few of the guys who had sat out days before and had now recovered and were continuing - eventually I made my decision. If I was my patient and I was the paramedic what medical advice would I give to my patient. Well it was a no" brainer" really. Today was the shortest leg of 26 km and tomorrow day 9 was the longest leg of 33 km. Then I would only have the last leg a shorter 15 km to walk into Ceres. I chatted to Laura and felt bad that I was not walking with her today. I really enjoyed walking with her. She confirmed that I should spend today sorting my feet out so we could finish this together.

I packed up my things and hung around with Wicus and had another cup of coffee feeling bleak and very sorry for myself. Wicus is great company and had me laughing and feeling much better. Trying to justify that I had made the right decision. I knew that pushing through today would have resulted in me not being able to finish at all and for me that would have felt worse. There was nothing I could do I had no shoes that fitted me. Period. So why even the inner debate with myself. This was not a race, this was a journey, my journey, my experience, a story to tell my grandchildren one day.

I got into the truck with Roy after I checked my feet for the last time, just in case. My sandals did not close properly anyway. We then made our way to our next overnight camp in Karoopoort. We had not been on the road for long when young Chaise and another lady walker flagged us down and jumped into the truck, they were really very sore. I could sympathize.

Today was a time for those who would like to visit the Cross that was erected by some of the Camino guys. People would pick up a pebble and leave it there. Some had messages on, others left mementos. One of the ladies was going to throw her late husband's ashes there, something that was really special and had tugged at my heart. I never got to the cross but that was alright as I had done many such things time and time again.

Another lady had lost her horse of 20 years 1 year ago and she was walking for him. She would walk in between the fynbos along the fence. She was really tiny and very quick. This is how she used to walk with her horse who would follow behind her. So many times during the trip I would see her walking alone in the veldt, but I could see her horse walking behind her, it was a touching and a surreal sight that often brought a really huge lump in my throat. I had two of my own horses with whom I used to do the same thing with and it would bring a flood of warm and sad memories for me. I wanted to sit down and chat to her properly but the opportunity never came. I did tell her that I could see her horse walking behind her and that it gave me great comfort on the days I was sore. I think she was probably the fastest walker in the camp and if she had stuck to the road she would have made it in long before any of us. But her journey was to be with her beloved horse between the fynbos. It was very special. NOTE: The photos of the cross are credited to Tankwa Camino Face Book page.

Photo credit: Tankwa Camino

The road to our overnight camp - you can see where the dirt road comes to an end in the distance and now the road had changed to tar - not a great road and very narrow winding though the passes of the

Western Cape Fold mountains.

Finally we hit the tar leaving the longest uninterrupted dirt road in South Africa in a cloud of dust behind us. A new adventure would dawn tomorrow!

We finally arrived at our camp site close to lunchtime among the Western Cape Fold mountains. These are majestic and dramatic and they are filled with numerous geological wanders. It felt so good to be so close to them and feel their energy. The ranges usually have very little or no foothills and would rise directly from the valley floors.The team got to work immediately without any breaks, setting up the outdoor kitchen, getting our Karoo sweet-bakes ready, the hot water on the boil in the huge pot, then onto digging the hole to place the coals in to bake our Karoo underground baked bread for dinner. While this was happening the loo's were also going up.

I walked around a bit to keep the circulation going in my feet, taking a few photographs of the buildings, soaking up the mountains and I spotted a 2 day old little lamb which was brought in later thankfully to a warmer shed with its mom due to the cold weather coming in. We were in a poort surrounded by the Cape Fold Mountains which is a fold and thrust belt rock of late Paleozoic age which had affected the sequence of sedimentary rock layers of the Cape Supergroup within the Southwestern corner of South Africa. The rock here is normally made up of shale and sandstone. the maximum height is 2325m at Seweweekspoortpeak where I had visited while tackling the SA 9 Peaks Challenge in 2014 with my teenage "Viking" son. These were formed some 180 millions years ago when the subcontinent lifted up. They are really beautiful!

We were not going to get the sunshine we were hoping for to dry out the tents

The campsite was small so the tents needed to be closer. It was a while before we got our stuff off the truck, it looked like rain was coming in and we were chomping at the bit to get it ready. I also wanted to sock my feet and put them up. The four of us shared out lunch out and then it crews got our luggage off the big trucks and we sprung into action.

the dampness and rain had transformed colours into a richer more vibrant palette and my camera was loving the lighting.

I managed to put up my tent and got myself sorted out and Kelvin came racing in with one of the lady walkers followed by the Owens. Kelvin would leave camp after I had, then would come striding past me and continue to finish up in the front. He was one of the older guys in the group, but boy was the man a machine. My neighbours were in and once their tents were up we all moved closer together and was joined by Enid. Everyone was coming in and I was glad to see Laura come in just before sunset. It got darker earlier today and mist had come in low over the mountains hiding them till mid morning the next day. We had put her tent out to dry and the guys helped her to put her tent up. She camped near me and whoever woke up first would wake the other up. Lots of conversations around road trips to the Namibia desert while consuming sherry dressed warmly ensued.

The Karoo Poort is a very old route followed by the first settlers, and together with the Hottentot Kloof, formed the only route to the north (and the Karoo) from Cape Town through Ceres. The road is a typical poort, with easy gradients, following the course of a (mainly dry) river-bed through a natural gap in the mountains. The pass is gravel, except for a small section of just over a kilometer and a half, where the tarring was no doubt done to protect the Karoopoort farm orchards from dust. The original old farmstead is on the right hand side of the road (west) and it is the only farm in the poort.

the is a house across the road from the farm house.

Many motorbikes came through on their way to a biking event in the Tankwa Karoo, many recognized the sign boards so they would hoot at us as well as some of the truckers as they passed our little hamlet.

Soaking the feet. My 5l bucket was great - the orange one in the background - but both feet did not really fit in and often due to the fact the bucket was a fold up one it would collapse and the water leak out. Karen lent me this one - the square green camping one and if I can offer you any advice this is the perfect fold up "bucket" to soak your feet in. I will be purchasing one of these when I get back!!

You can get an idea of why my feet did not fit into my boots and shoes! I was known as Wednesday legs (wens they gonna break) and Lucky legs (lucky they don't break) because I have really skinny legs. For the first time in my life I had jumbo calves!

The camp site was coming alive now and everyone was sorting out their feet, packing their bags for tomorrow and getting ready for dinner. We had been welcomed to hot Karoo donuts covered in sugar. They were small so it was an excuse to have more than one. It was such a guilty pleasure!

the little 2 day lamb and its mom inside the warm shed for the night.

Dinner was ready so we ate after our nightly camp story, and bible reading. Then the owner of the farm whose land we were squatting on joined us. We all went to bed fairly early and I went to pack my backpack for tomorrow. I was going much lighter tomorrow to ease the weight off the feet . I had also decided to walk in my Trek sandals I was not sure if they were going to hold out on the tar and gravel but I was going to give it my all. Tomorrow was a long 33 km day and we had to trek up 2 long passes. I was looking forward to that as I am an uphill plodder not a down hill walker. I took my last Myprodol and hopped for the best.