When the Monks Cowl hike was announced, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I was bursting with excitement and didn’t hesitate to sign up. But to understand the emotions behind that moment, I need to take you back—back to when I was just a young boy with a dream.
I spent my childhood holidays on my grandparents’ farm near the Sudwala Caves, with the Mankelekele Mountains rising in the distance. I remember watching hikers through binoculars, dreaming of one day climbing a mountain myself—on foot, step by step. That dream never materialized… until now.
Doubt Creeps In
I booked my spot and messaged Ferdie: I’m in. But as the date crept closer, so did the doubts.
A year earlier, I’d injured my leg and developed a condition called drop foot, which affects balance and stability. After a painful fall at Easterkloof, my confidence was hanging by a thread. I started to question whether I should go at all.
Through it all, Ferdie was a steady, supportive presence. He believed in me—especially when I couldn’t.
The Freeze at Klipriviersberg
Not long after, I hit another low point. On a casual hike at Klipriviersberg, we reached a small stream with a jump. Everyone crossed easily. But I froze. No matter what, I just couldn’t do it. Embarrassed and frustrated, I watched everyone else move ahead.
Ferdie calmly told the group to continue and said he’d take a different route with me. But what happened next reminded me why this hiking group, Fenix, is unlike any other. The entire group came back across the stream and said: “No one gets left behind.” We would walk together.
That moment reminded me: this group isn’t just about hiking. It’s about brotherhood.
Facing Monks Cowl
As the big hike neared, so did the nerves. I didn’t want to slow anyone down. But again, I was reminded: you will be fine—we do this together.
We left early Friday to grab a good spot and soak in the Drakensberg’s beauty. When Ferdie pointed out the route we’d take the next day, my heart dropped. It was high. Really high. But I kept the fear tucked away and focused on the goal: I was going to the top.
Step by Step to the Summit
We started climbing early Saturday morning. The first hour alone was brutal—700 meters up. My lungs burned, my legs ached, but I repeated my mantra: Stappie vir stappie (Step by step).
Some guys were ahead, but we had made a pact—everyone climbs at their own pace, and we regroup at the summit. Eventually, I saw it. And then… I was there.
I had done it. I had climbed a mountain.
My childhood dream was real. The view was beyond words. Every challenge, every doubt—it had all led to that moment.
A Second Test
Sunday brought a lighter hike. Through forests, across rivers, back to camp. But when we reached the river, old fears returned. I froze again.
But not for long. My hiking brothers showed me where to step, anchored themselves, and helped me across. No pressure. Just support. And I made it.
Brotherhood on the Trail
That crossing—and the whole weekend—reminded me what makes Fenix special. Every man on the trail carries something. And when one of us struggles, the rest show up. That’s not common. That’s powerful.
Gratitude
To every super man I walked beside this weekend, and all those I’ve hiked with before—thank you. You’ve helped me grow in ways you’ll never fully know.
And if you’re wondering whether to join the next hike—stop wondering. Come.
See what true brotherhood looks like.
Finally, an enormous thank you to Ferdie - for your planning and preparation l, the incredible catering (those burgers !!) And believing in us all.
PS: Also, a heartfelt thank you for taking hearing my concerns and anxieties and purposefully holding back, reaching out to lend a hand when I was not surefooted, pointing out which rocks were not slippery or wobbly. Without this I would not have made it up or down.
