Trail Running: The Wild Boar Trail Run

Val du Charron, Wellington

16 December 2022

A Storm Brewing

Weather warning? What weather warning?

We nearly didn’t enter this race due to a severe weather warning.

 

Cape Town is not known known for severe weather.

 

At worst, we get 7 days of continuous rain during the winter months. And kvetch about it until the summer as if we were hit by a hurricane.

 

We do get gale force winds throughout the year, though.  Cape of Storms, remember?

 

It doesn’t help that Capetonians are solar – powered, so even a single cloud and more than two drops of rain mean all drivers lose their arguably already-meagre critical thinking skills and fail to remember how to operate a vehicle with reasonable competence.

 

It is a well-known urban legend (urban legend is code for: ‘anecdotal’) that fender benders increase proportionally to the amount of rain that falls in Cape Town.

 

So, when the weather bureau issued a storm warning for Cape Town and surrounding areas for Friday 16 December 2022, including uncharacteristic thunderstorms, I was hesitant to pre-enter  the 10km trail run on Val du Charron Wine and Leisure Estate in Wellington, a town  famous for it’s vineyards, architecture and country-style charm, a mere 75 kms outside of Cape Town.

Wellington

Miles and Miles of Vines

Named after the Duke of Wellington, this heart of the Cape winelands was formally established in 1840 and like Franschhoek has a decidedly French flavour, reminiscent of its Huguenot founding fathers.  But Wellington is also reknown for its distinct Cape-Dutch architecture.

 

The town is known for its wines, distillery and deciduous fruits, according to sahistory.org.za.

 

Wellington is also the gateway to one of South Africa’s most notorious mountain passes, Bains Kloof Pass, which has recently undergone some overdue restoration.

 

Named for Andrew Geddes Bains, the pass requires a head for heights as it means cliff-edge driving and excellent reflexes to dodge baboons that appear out of nowhere on the side of the road.

 

Although I was keen to enter the race and redeem myself following my disastrous experience at Om Die Dam, the idea of an uncharacteristic thunderstorm descending on the Cape of Storms had me firmly perched on the fence.

 

Chucky and I decided to enter on the day. If it rained Friday morning, a public holiday, The Day of Reconciliation, we would sleep in. If not, we would collect Mambi and BasheeRush and make for the Boland. Again.

 

Friday morning dawned cloudy with a lowish chance of thunderstorms. We decided to risk it.

 

We reached the beautiful wine estate, Val du Charron, with time enough to spare a few jokes at the ‘late entries’ registration table. The ladies were efficient and convivial, especially considering it was not yet 8 am on a holiday morning.

 

The turnout for the race was sparse but the gees was plentiful, brought on mostly by Lans, the event organiser and MC who maintained his sense of humour throughout, pending storms and load-shedding notwithstanding.

Race Briefing

Val du Charron

Val Du Charron

South Africa is the most beautiful place in the world. I don’t say that because I am fiercely in love with the absolute wild mad insane beauty that is this country. It is true.

 

Like the rest of the world, we have more than our share of problems. Including a venal, corrupt, contemptuous, pustulant government that is a curse on this land and every single one of its citizens.

 

Cape Town, the ‘gateway’ to Africa, is especially beautiful and rightly so, flanked by two oceans, the Indian and the Atlantic, mountains at her doorstep and wide open country spaces within a 20 minute car drive.

 

On top of being a cosmopolitan city with some of the best night spots, eateries and cultural (from hippies to kugels) entertainment, arts, counterculture, and non-entertainment (I mean, the first successful heart transplant was performed at our very own Groote Schuur hospital) in the world.

 

Cape Town has it all.

 

The Mother City is consistently voted one of the top holiday destinations in the world. Despite our reputation as one of the world’s crime hot spots (Thank you ANC).

 

Wine estates are a dime (metaphorically!) a dozen in this part of the Western Cape. We have an entire industry built on wine tourism. (As an observant Muslim, I don’t drink) but I do enjoy a blooming green vineyard as much as a valley resplendent with pink proteas.

 

Val du Charron has a spectacular vineyard. The succulent green vines, the straight lines of the vines both calm and soothe me. They represent life, renewal, order, and prosperity; all wrapped in a fragrant earthy bundle.

 

I looked forward to running through those vines.

Chucky Off To A Strong Start

The Race

The race is part of the ‘Run The Vines’ series, a  list of runs on wine farms around the Cape, as arranged by Onsite Events.

 

The calendar for 2023 is already available here.

 

As a n00b trail runner, this was my first, but not my last run of the vines.

 

The event was well organised, and things got off to a smooth start, despite several challenges.

 

Level 6 load-shedding meant the sound system was down and Lans had to make himself heard.

 

Later, the pumps for the splash pad (man, I was looking forward to that!) would be down, so we couldn’t rinse after the race.

 

We chose to run the 10km distance for 2 reasons:

 

  1. I had finished my antibiotics course a day ago and was not going to take any risks.
  2. The 20 km distance was just a second loop of the 10km.

Loops are boring!

Is That A Hill I see Before Me?

The Course

HIll up!

The course was a toughie. There was much of hill ups! The weather was muggy and humid. After 5 steps I was sweating like a horse, and not one of those elegant racing stallions either. I did do a reasonable imitation of a plow horse though and by the end of the race, smelled like one too.

 

Nevertheless we “Fab Four” determined to enjoy ourselves, chirping the announcer at the start of the race and each other all along the route.

 

For the first 5kms we stayed relatively together, meaning, we were never out of sight of one another, but after the second water table at 6km I found my stride and I needed to run. The course also started to level out a bit so running was easier. It felt so good. Especially after last week.

 

It felt fantastic to allow my body to find its rhythm.

Taking the Easy Way Down!

In the meantime, my mates had found a rock to climb. Can’t take them anywhere these bergies. A bergie is an Afrikaans word meaning ‘little/small mountain’. 

 

It also connotes a homeless person who lives on the slopes of the mountain. Nowadays any homeless person is referred to as a bergie.

 

While the term is largely used pejoratively, hikers often use it to denote those of us who are happiest in the mountains, or nature in general.

 

Mambi caught Chucky and Bashe taking a ladder up the rock instead of climbing up. Cheats! Can’t turn my back for a second.

 

Val du Charron is gorgeous.

 

The route led us through luxurious green vineyards, past dams and through clumps of trees.

 

A hint of ozone on the tentative breeze, made the air heavy, the latter heralding an impending electrical storm. All of which made for a challenging yet exhilarating run.

 

The 10kms was over too soon.

 

My Garmin showed 1h 19m. I was slightly disappointed. Somehow, I had hoped to run closer to my road running time of around 60 mins.

 

No worries. I felt good and snagged my medal and a water before waiting for the rest of the gang.

Dramatic Finish

Chucky came in 2 mins later, faking a hard race. What a drama queen.

 

Shortly after Mambi and Bashe came strolling along.

Post Race

Hello Roy! You legend

The splash pads were out of order due to load shedding. Thanks Eskom. You suck eggs.

 

But we hung around the finish area, ran into our AAC clubmate, Roy, again, who ran the 20km distance in just over 2 hours.

 

What a machine!

 

Yummy Pizza-filled Tummy Smiles

After cooling down we adjourned to the restaurant for pizza. The service was prompt and efficient, the waiters friendly and knowledgeable.

 

Best of all? Mambi won a bottle of wine in the lucky draw. She was over the moon! Day made.

 

As we were getting the bill (I commend Val du Charron for the excellent coffee and generous pizza portions) fat drops of rain began splashing down. That was our cue to exit.

 

The storm had kindly held off until after our race. 

 

We had nothing to complain about.

 

We ran a beautiful trail with amazing friends-like-family, made new friends and experienced some good vibes and good food. 

 

On the N1, at the Sable Road turn off, we were briefly caught in pre-Christmas shopping traffic going to and from the Canal Walk shopping centre.

 

I always resent having to go back to the city. The more time I spend away from the city, the more I want to move to the countryside where I don’t have to deal with filth, traffic, and conspicuous consumerism.

 

I have long pitied humanity for its extrinsic materialism as a manifestation of its intrinsic value. At this stage of my life pity has evolved into contempt. Yes, I’m judging.

Youmul Jumu-ah

Had it not been Friday and Youmul Jumu-ah (Day of Prayer) and we had to rush to mosque, we may have stayed in Wellington the entire day.

 

Jumu-ah is the compulsory (for *competent Muslim males) prayer at approximately midday every Friday. The prayer is accompanied by a sermon. Friday is the Muslim sabbath. In many Muslim countries Friday is a non-working day.

 

In South Africa where Muslims are a (often vocal) minority, bosses allow men to attend Friday prayers during the workday (Even during Apartheid, South Africa had been tolerant of all religions) since it conveniently coincides with lunch time.

 

Many self-employed Muslims either take the entire or half day off. Islam doesn’t dictate the sabbath as a non-working day, only that no trading or business be conducted during the time of the actual prayer.

 

On a public holiday, most Muslim families would have a big meal (like Sunday lunch) after prayers.

 

Our plan had been to shower at the vineyard and attend Jumu-ah prayer at a mosque in Wellington or Paarl.

 

However, Eskom’s load-shedding meant no shower at the race, so we had to go home to clean up.

 

As it was, Chucky barely made it to mosque on time and I didn’t have the time to join him. Women are not obligated to participate in the Jumu-ah prayer.

Happy Reconciliation Day!

I had a great time doing what I love with people I adore in a fairy tale setting.

 

So many happy boxes ticked.

 

It was the perfect start to a long summer weekend, thunderstorm notwithstanding.

 

Did I mention I love thunderstorms?

See You At The Next One Lans

1 thought on “Trail Running: The Wild Boar Trail Run”

  1. Basheerah l

    I had an Awesome time with Amazing people and forever Greatful to be a part of this Madness love you Guys.

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