Peter Koos Swanepoel – Page 12 – Bewilderbeast Droppings

Fab Five Reunion

Larry visited from Ohio back in 1996. Pierre was in Harrismith; I was in Durban; Steph and Tuffy were living in Cape Town, so they won – we arranged to meet up as the Old Fab Five musketeers down in Kaapstad.

Larry Wingert had been Harrismith’s Rotary exchange student back in 1969 and had returned to South Africa twice before – once in 1976, down through Africa from Greece, mostly overland, all the way to Cape Town; and once in 1985, when he and I had done an overland trip from Maun in Botswana to Vic Falls in Zimbabwe.

Trish and I took him to Mkhuze game reserve:

and down to Cape Town:

– the Fab Five plus Rope – Pierre, Rope, Koos, Steph, Tuffy, Larry –

Steph took us to his Kommetjie beach house

This year 2020 Steph’s brother JP sent me pics of the magic pub in the beach house

and Tuffy entertained us royally at his and Lulu’s lovely home in Langebaan:

~~~oo0oo~~~

Asked what the Fab Five was, I had to think about it. We were a gentlemanly triple-AA ~~gang~~ Educational Club who would meet clandestinely after dark and do creative things to broaden our minds.

The one AA was for automobiles, which we would borrow under an intricate arrangement where the actual owners were not part of the bargaining process; we would then use these automobiles to go places;

The other AA was for alcohol, which we would procure under an intricate arrangement of dispatching a third party who could legally buy the stuff, to a bottle store other than my parents’ bottle store; this we would then imbibe for the purpose of stiffening our resolve. And for laughter and the third AA:

Action! Adventure! Anything but boredom.

– the SAAB re-enactment didn’t happen – we used Tuffy’s bakkie instead – Fab Five plus Frik – Steph Frik Pierre Tuffy me Larry –

One of the founding reasons for launching the august club was we suddenly had a Yank in our midst and we were really afraid he’d go back to the metropolis of Cobleskill, upstate New York and say there was nothing to do in Harrismith. The thought mortified us. We had to DO something!

~~~oo0oo~~~

We were reminded how offended we were late one night on one of our adventures – this one not motorised – we were prowling the empty streets at night te voet – on foot.

And we spotted a policeman driving around drunk! Can you believe it!? That was OUR forte! What was HE doing driving around drunk like us!? So we indignantly phoned the copshop from a tickey box, reported him to the dame on laatnag diens and walked away feeling smug. Next thing we heard a squealing of tyres and the roaring of a Ford F150 straight six. It was him! She had obviously radio’d him and told him! Maybe they were an item!?

We started running as the cop van roared closer. It was the only thing making a noise in the whole dorp at three in the morning so we could easily hear where he was. We sprinted past the Kleinspanskool and as he came careening around the corner we dived under the raised foundations of Laboria – Alet de Witt’s big block of flats. We crawled through and out the other side, at Steph’s house. Steph & Larry went home as did Tuff, a block or two away. Pierre and I had a way to go yet, so we set off along Stuart Street – we could hear the fuzz in the grey Ford F150 with the straight six and the tralies over the windows roaring around in Warden Street. He never stood a chance of catching us. We were fleet of foot and we could u-turn within one metre!

~~~oo0oo~~~

te voet – on foot; saving fuel for the environment

tickey box – street phone booth

dame on laatnag diens – lady on late night duty

Kleinspanskool – junior primary school

tralies – burglar bars

Storm in a Shopping Trolley

Just yesterday I was dispensing my best Calm The Fuck Down advice to a friend, and today TomTom and I have a big fat fight!

He went shopping, wheeled the trolley home (knows he’s not meant to) down a steep footpath under the big fig tree and tipped the trolley. ’30 eggs broken and the bread squashed flat,’ he yells!

Came in in a rage. ‘No-one helps me!‘

Hey Tom, its OK boy.

Gaan’d aan and aaan. ‘No-one even came to help me.’

Well, did you ask us, fella? Did you phone? He didn’t. We should have arrived like knowing fairies.

Rage – so eventually I snapped OK ENOUGH NOW, You cocked up, you didn’t ask for help, it is what it is!

Rage

SHUT UP NOW! FFS!

Storms out of the yard.

About an hour later he’s back.

‘Sorry Daddy! I apologise!‘

Me too, fella, I’m sorry. Things happen. We OK?

‘We’re OK. I just lost it when I saw the damage.‘

That’s OK. That’s understandable.

Done.

~~~oo0oo~~~

– the big old fig – and – our steep path to PnP – not trolley-friendly! –

~~~oo0oo~~~

California Honeymoon

First job in California is to get into the nearest cheap motel and start the search for a Ford Econoline Camper! We’re going to drive our own home for a week! Of course, I’ll do the sums. I’m not irresponsible. It’ll have to be reasonable . . .

Those days you still used telephone directories, yellow pages and a phone plugged into the wall!

– sure, it costs a bit more than motels, but . . . –

– it was well worth it, I said. – Incorrigible vrou took an upskirt pic of me! –

Off to Yosemite! Heard about it all my life and now we were going there!

– our favourite Yosemite pics of each other –

Favourite birds probly the Acorn Woodpecker, the California Quail and the Roadrunner.

From Yosemite we headed back to the coast in an arc to drive the Big Sur coastline

We were in California cos Aitch said ‘Hey! We can’t only be in the sticks! I’ve never seen an American city with its shops and bright lights. You have.’ OK, m’dear I said, thinking Yosemite, Redwoods, Big Sur coastline. Oh, and San Francisco – we’ll ‘do’ San Francisco, OK?

So we did, we hired a small car after handing back the camper – and paying in for a bumper bashing while reversing in Yosemite – and roamed the streets, going down the famous twisty Lombard Street and catching a few trams. And, unfortunately, shopping. I dunno what Aitch bought, but I got caught for such a sucker when I bought a telescope. One of these salesmen: ‘Ah! South Africa! Aangename kennis! Hoe gaan dit?’ you know the kak. So I overpaid for this telescope which was OK, but not what I had wanted. ‘Sucker!’ chortled Aitch, showing zero sympathy. Was this what marriage was going to be like? Was she not going to be like my Ma, who would have sympathised with her poor boy?

I cheated a bit, using the car to also go across the big bridge and into the redwood trees at Muir Woods, just 20km north of San Francisco. This using her ‘city time’ for my ‘backwoods time’ did not go unnoticed, nor unmentioned. But she loved the redwoods as much as she’d loved the sequoias!

~~~oo0oo~~~

Big old photo album has been thrown out. But first I recorded all the photos here:

We loved California. Now, we were off to Wyoming – We’ve been to Yosemite, now I’d love to go to Yellowstone! You too, right Aitch?

Childless Cathedral

Aitch needed a break and Barbara, Jeff, LindiLou and Robbie agreed to have the kids on their Umvoti Villa farm. So off we went to a luxury stay in the Cathedral Peak Hotel. The breast cancer had spread to liver and bones, and the treatments she opted for were severe. Here was a break from the punishing rounds of chemo. October 2010.

Trish went on some short walks with me. I went on a few longer ones and some bike rides.

She took some pics of the smaller things . .

~~~o0oo~~~

The kids had had an absolute ball on the farm:

~~~oo0oo~~~

Cousin Liz

We are ten cousins from the four children of Ouma Elizabeth and Oupa Paul Fouche Swanepoel of Pietermaritzburg. Our cousin Liz Grundling-Fortmann in Camperdown passed away in 2018 and a gathering of family and friends took place in Camperdown where Liz lived most of her life, to salute a special lady.

Afterwards, I wrote to cousin Shirley Solomon-Miller in Seattle Washington, USA:

Hi Shirley – Well, Lizzie had an amazing memorial service in Camperdown! I was amazed at the number of people who turned out. There were five cousins – the ‘Uncle Pieter’ Swanies, Barbara Sheila & Koos, and the ‘Aunty Lizzie or Aunty Anne’ Grundlings, Jack and Marlene. The four generations present were beautifully represented by Mary, Barbara Mary, Linda Mary and Mary-Kate.

Lizzie’s son Zane and brother Jack spoke beautifully of her at the service. She sure was loved and admired. Dad said it was the biggest funeral he’d ever been to – and he’s been to a bundle! I arrived just on time and then waited for Sheila, hoping I’d be able to hang back and maybe even stand outside as I have at many a funeral and wedding, but they had kept seats for us! We were ushered to the very front row! Caught out!

After the preacherman had finished Dad (95 then) leaned over and in his loud deaf voice he complained the service had been way too long. I indicated HUSH and he says ‘Can they hear me?’ Yes! I nodded, so he – no handbrake – says ‘Well, the last time he was subjected to such a long sermon was by dominee Ras in Harrismith.’ That was about fifty years back. See, people forget he’s there for the food!

And the Camperdonians laid on a feast – tea and coffee and tons of food – and then they said we must follow them home for a braai!

We all gathered at Auntie Lizzie and Uncle Con’s old home (and Lizzie’s home ever since) and had a lovely gathering and braai and then Sheila followed me and we drove home in the dark on that very busy N3 road to Durban – the road that runs right past Lizzie’s garage and petrol station. When we got home I phoned Sheila to check she was in – she was already in bed!

We agreed on what a really lovely bunch of people Lizzie had around her, her son and daughter, their spouses and kids were all so friendly, hospitable and helpful to all of us, some of whom – like me – they have seen very seldom indeed.

I saw Aunty Lizzie and Uncle Con’s graves and was surprised to find she didn’t have Elizabeth in her name! She was Anna Naomi, and Con’s nickname was Sarge. I did know a lot of people called her Aunty Anne. We only called them Uncle Con and Aunty Lizzie! Sheila says it was something about Dad’s nickname for her – ‘Skinny Lizzie” or something. Surprised me.

Another surprise: Lizzie was affected by emphysema after smoking for years – even when she was sick she ‘cut down to one a day.’ And there was her daughter Lisa smoking! I had to chuckle! Us humans!

Other pics were taken. I’ll send as I get them. I see mine have very few people in them! Just Sheila and Jack on the back stoep. – Lotsa love – cousin Koos

~~~oo0oo~~~

Some time before, Shirley and I had spoken of her Mom, Liz’s aunt, Adriana ‘Janie’ (pr. ‘Yahnee’) Swanepoel-Solomon who died in 1974. Shirley had held a ceremony on the Skagit River up north of Seattle where she lives.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Luckily nine of the cousins had managed to get together not long before – I think in 2014?

~~~oo0oo~~~

Recently it was Liz’s birthday. Cousin Solly in New Zealand reminded us, and Liz’s kids Zane and Lisa and their partners Bridget and John sent a pic of the flowers they had placed at her plaque:

~~~oo0oo~~~

dominee – preacher for the chosen volk

volk – nation

stoep – veranda, porch, patio

Mow a Meadow

One Man Went to Mow

Went to Mow a Meadow

. . .

Usually Tobias Gumede mows, but he’s in lockdown in Jozini, so the amateur had to do it. And there were repercussions . .

. . .

The next week TomTom voluteered to mow! Yes! I shouted! ‘For money, of course’ he added. OK. It’s a deal. He mowed.

. . .

~~~oo0oo~~~

A Vrystaat Shepherd’s Cottage

Shepherds’ cottages in Lesotho are often quite primitive affairs, used itinerantly as their flocks graze in that area; then moving on to pastures new, where – especially in winter – a new shelter may be built, or an old one re-roofed with available grass or shrubs.

– Lesotho scenery and a shepherd’s cottage / shelter –

But the Shepherd’s Cottage Denyse and Mike built was far more comfy. We enjoyed their hospitality there when we went up to celebrate the new chef at their castle high above on the hilltop, serve his first formal meal. A lovely experience!

~~~oo0oo~~~

Phinda

Aitch thought she’d do nursing after school; very soon found out that wasn’t her, so she tried blood confusion. Well, that’s what I would say and she’d correct me: ‘Transfusion, Koos!’ Bit better, but then she discovered cardiovascular perfusion. Now that she regarded as a career! She loved it.

About ten years later she left for her first job in the private sector, pharmaceutical sales. 1985 – the year I met her. She excelled in sales. Soon I was reaping the benefit. One of her first rewards was a trip to Phinda private game reserve.

Soon after, in 1988, we got married. I mean, hello-o . . what’s not to like . . ?

~~~oo0oo~~~

The Red-Faced Barbet

Aitch used to look at these Two-Puddly birds and say ‘Why Black-collared Barbet? they should be called Red-faced Barbet!’

There’s probably already a red-faced, I said; and I don’t know why I didn’t go looking then. I suppose life happened. Anyway, she prolly took my word for it.

Listen: Here’s why we called ours ‘Two-Puddly’ (old man Geoff Leslie used to call them Scottburgh – that’s where he would hear them most, at the Fyvie’s coastal cottage).

And there is a Red-Faced Barbet. It’s found up on the western shore of Lake Victoria. It’s duet is a bit less musical, more frog-like, if they don’t mind me saying so:

– pic by Michelle Summers – ebird.org – Cornell Macaulay library –

~~oo0oo~~

Black-collared Barbet (Lybius torquatus) – Red-faced Barbet (Lybius rubrifacies) – cousins

Thanks – Margaret Elworthy Coombes – for the Black-collared Barbet pic on wikipedia

Glorious Self Isolation

So I’m at home in self isolation. It’s like I’m underwater in a diving suit, ‘cept this suit is full of holes. The holes being my kids and their friends and their gregarious, roving ways.

Yes, Dad, they say earnestly after getting my full explanation of what gives, having gazed deep into my eyes, nodding every five seconds.

Hey, where you going?

Out to see the girls!

*** sigh ***

– the weight around my neck represents Jess and Tom !!! –

Who’s in the kitchen?!

Me and my mate José.

Have you fellas washed your hands?

Um . . er . ja, we’re washing them now . . of course . . !

Slowly I’ll hope to improve the actual isolation effectiveness . . I’ll probably need to apply a lot of alcohol . .

Meantime, I’m luvin’ it!!

~~~oo0oo~~~

Kosi Bay with a Boat

Kosi Bay is a special place and the campsites are superb. Good birding and great habitat. It’s an estuary system comprising of four lakes – Amanzimnyama (dark waters), Nhlange (reeds), Mpungwini (?) and Makhawulani (boundary? haste?) – the system is connected by meandering channels and fringed wetlands before it runs into the Indian Ocean via a shallow channel and estuary. A boat excursion from Lake Nhlange to Lake Makhawulani is a scenic meander on open water and through reed channels. At the mouth you can snorkel among rocks and along the mangrove banks. The rocks are exposed or covered depending on the amount of sand present at the time.

You can get to the mouth by 4X4, but if you want the full Kosi experience you really need a boat. Fortunately for us, on two of our three trips there in 2002 / 2003 good friend Greg Bennett lent us his rubber dinghy and Yamaha. The freedom this gave us, plus the knowledge of the area provided by a local guide made all the difference.

– to get to the mouth takes a boat ride and a walk . . .

– Jess was in her gymnastics phase, so I rigged up an umbrella pole trapeze for her –

– that delightful age when simple little things can be a big adventure! –

JonDinDin joined us. His RAV4 4WD was feeling intimidated by my mighty Kombi 2WD, so we kindly let it do a little work . .

– the lakes can be choppy, they can be glassy –

– freedom! We could picnic on the lake shore, or the beach at the mouth, or at Bangha Nek

– bath time for ole pint-size in the ablution block –

~~~oo0oo~~~

Our first trip was ca,1990, newly married and blissfully chidfree.

Shh – Don’t tell a soul, but when we took the kids in 2002 and 2003 I smuggled our heavy AEG microwave along and plugged it into the plugpoint in the campsite. Made warming up Tom’s bottles so much simpler!

~~oo0oo~~

Fogg’s Folly

or Destiny Castle

Driving through the beautiful Eastern Free State you see many flat-topped sandstone kopjes like these. But suddenly you say, ‘What’s on top of that one? Is it a castle? It’s a CASTLE! Can’t be. But it is!’

Truth is, you knew it would be there – as you’ve been invited to visit it – to be at the dress rehearsal dinner, where the resident chef is going to present his first full meal to a small group of discerning – and two not-so-discerning – guests, courtesy of King and Queen of Destiny Castle, Mike and Denyse! So like the Grand Old Duke of York, you drive up to the top of the hill . .

. . where you’re welcomed and taken inside, up the spiral staircase, past the knight in shining armour, to an antechamber where the drinking can begin . . see the thickness of the castle walls! We’ll easily withstand a siege here. Well, until the Old Brown runs out . .

On to dinner, where Aitch and I feed the not-so-discerning kids first so that they can be asleep when the ribaldry begins. Once they’ve had their fill, we shoot two grizzly bears, wrap them in the skins and soon they’re snoring.

Let the feasting begin!

Bottles are smashed open and revelry ensues . .

Common ground is found: Hey! We’re both bald! No I’m not! Oh, now I’m not . .

For once, it seems I was the photographer. After dessert we repair to the rooftop to gaze at the heavens through a telescope, and drink another toast to life, to life, l’chaim!

Good friends, great hospitality, lovely food – and of course, lots of vino!

. . and so to bed

~~oo0oo~~

What a stunning amazing place – a dream started by some eccentric mal vrystater decades earlier, then realised by Mike and Denyse Fogg.

I’m guessing the ZF on the watermarked pics is Zena Fogg – thanks Zeens!!

~~oo0oo~~

Careful Where You Step!

Recording and reminiscing; with occasional bokdrols of wisdom, one hopes.

Random, un-chronological events and memories after meeting Trish, marriage, children and sundry other catastrophes.

NO PERMISSION GIVEN to Artificial ‘Intelligence’ wannabes or LLMs to steal content. Don’t steal other people’s stuff, didn’t your mother teach you that!? Shame on you!

My pre-marriage blog is vrystaatconfessions.com. Bachelorhood! Beer! River trips! Beer!

bokdrols – like pearls, but more organic. Handle with care

~~oo0oo~~

Note: I go back to my posts to add / amend as I remember things and as people mention things, so the posts evolve. I know (and respect) that some bloggers don’t change once they’ve posted, or add a clear note when they do. That’s good, but as this is a personal blog with the aim of one day editing them all into a hazy memoir, this way works for me.

Simes’ Cottage in Lotheni

There’s a lovely old sandstone farmhouse in the Lotheni Valley, one of the Drakensberg / uKhahlamba’s beautiful valleys. We had some great adventures with good friends and our kids up there. These pics are from a few visits over time. – ca.2003 to 2011 –

– Simes’ Cottage – . Lotheni valley -. in Ukahlamba –

As an adult retreat it’s our idea of paradise: no electricity, no cellphone reception, no wifi. Peace. Plenty of hot water, a gas stove to cook and boil water on, candlelight, a lovely fireplace, cozy inside. Luxury. Long-suffering friends the Adlams, Taylors, Foggs and Abercrombies, all blissfully child-free, would tolerate the disruption our two – who were aged from about one to about thirteen over the ten years we went there – could cause. I think they loved it! I know they loved the brats and were very kind to them.

A great spot for fishing, birding, botanising or sitting with a G&T and gazing into the distance . .

– there were people who would disturb this tranquility with lures and line –

Adventure in Yellowwood Cave

It had been years since I’d slept out in the ‘Berg and I was pleased when Gayle and Grant readily agreed to spend a night in a cave in 2011. Aitch was feeling a bit weak, so decided to stay in the comfort of the cottage. It was May already, so getting a bit chilly.

– we set off to overnight in Yellowwood Cave –

Settling down for the night on the hard floor of the cave I gazed out through the yellowwood tree branches at the night sky, ablaze with a million stars. I was just thinking ‘It’s been too long, this is the life! I’m in paradise!’ when a small voice piped up next to my ear, ‘Daddy I don’t like it here.’ Oh, well, she may not repeat the exercise, but I doubt she’ll ever forget it. Jessie lay on my one side. Tom on the other side in a double sleeping bag we shared. At least they were warm.

Getting Bolder on Bikes

Fun with Aitch

Once Ma took the kids off up the mountain trail, to give the fishing and reading adults ‘a piece of quiet,’ as TomTom used to say for peace and quiet.

– off they go – Aitch takes our kids on a walk – with her camera as always –

– peace descends on earth – goodwill too –

– Aitch says **Shuck your clothes and jump in!** Mud bath Simes Cottage 2007 –

– Really Mom? – **Yes, Go ON! Jump in!** – OK!! –

– What? Go back now? – – Just like this? – **Yes, off you go! Just don’t go indoors! –**

Another Piece of Quiet

We snuck the kids off to have breakfast one morning in the kombi soon after they woke, to allow the adults to sleep in. Good birding opportunity, too.

– breakfast away from the cottage where the addleds are sleeping – Jess takes blankets, Mom takes food – Afterwards, Jess steers us back –

Whipping the Water into a Froth

– Fishermen – Please be polite & Kind to them – Don’t work out their Hours-Per-Fish average! –

Hiking

That’s a very special valley.

~~oo0oo~~

Washington Honeymoon

Fresh out of that lovely Hole in Wyoming we landed in Seattle and immediately headed for the hills. Or the sound. Puget Sound. I’m a bit allergic to cities, so we picked up a little rental car – would you believe a Toyota Tercel, with all-wheel drive and six forward gears . . what? I’ve said this before? OK, I did enjoy those cars.

– Me and our second Toyota Tercel on Orcas Island –

We drove onto a ferry in Anacortes and disembarked on Orcas Island. We looked for a place to stay. I had something in mind – the thing I usually have in mind: cheap. And we found it, on the far side of the island. Ah, this is good value, I thought. Aitch was fine with it. She liked the laid-back friendly approach they had. We were determined to avoid boring same-old places and anyway, she was always a great sport and tolerated me and my frugality. Hey, it was a lo-ong honeymoon. We had to stre-etch things. This was week four of our 1988 honeymoon. Halfway.

Lonely Planet review There are resorts, and then there’s Doe Bay, 18 miles east of Eastsound on the island’s easternmost shore – as lovely a spot as any on Orcas. By far the least expensive resort in the San Juans, Doe Bay has the atmosphere of an artists’ commune cum hippie retreat cum New Age center. Accommodations include campsites, a small hostel with dormitory and private rooms, and various cabins and yurts, most with views of the water. There’s also a natural-foods store, a café, yoga classes ($10), an organic garden and special discounts for guests who arrive by bike. The sauna and clothing-optional hot tub are set apart on one side of a creek.

Years later I read a Lonely Planet review: There are resorts, and then there’s Doe Bay, eighteen miles east of Eastsound on the island’s easternmost shore – as lovely a spot as any on Orcas. By far the least expensive resort in the San Juans, Doe Bay has the atmosphere of an artists’ commune cum hippie retreat cum New Age center. Accommodations include campsites, a small hostel with dormitory and private rooms, and various cabins and yurts, most with views of the water. There’s also a natural-foods store, a café, yoga classes ($10), an organic garden and special discounts for guests who arrive by bike. The sauna and clothing-optional hot tub are set apart on one side of a creek.

Ours was a cabin. We paid $10 for the night. Camping and the dormitory were cheaper, but hey, I’m no cheapskate. Our cabin was called Decatur and was luxuriously made of packing cases and a double layer of plastic sheeting in the windows. Cosy and warm. Seriously.

– Aitch rustic-ly snug; note plastic windows and expensive artwork above her –

– our favourite bird on Orcas – the Harlequin Duck – tiny, like our Pygmy Goose –

We’d seen a sign ‘Hot Tub’ on the way in, so we went looking. Walking down the path to where the bath house overlooked the Pacific, the sign said ‘suits optional’ and we realised that meant bathing suits, so we happily hopped in naked as we were the only people around.

– the Pacific out there is frigid; in here, the waters perfect! –

Getting ready to leave, Aitch froze and I started laughing: Voices, coming down the path! Aitch ducked back underwater, as we were joined by two couples who shucked their clothing and joined us. The view as they clambered down the steep metal stairs! You almost had to avert your eyes. We had a long chat, they were from Seattle and – ‘South Africa? Optometrist? Did we know Rocky Kaplan?’ Well, actually I did know of him. ‘Well he has reduced my short-sightedness so much; I’m now only wearing a three eyeglasses!’ OK.

By the time they left up the steep metal stairs – the view! you almost had to avert your eyes – Aitch was wrinkled like a prune.

– we drove up the mountain in our all-wheel-drive Tercel, but before we summited
a thick snowbank across the road turned us back –

~~~oo0oo~~~

I have tossed out the old thick honeymoon photo album! But only after recording the pics here:

Then it was back on the ferry, island-hopping our way back to the mainland. Next we were headed for Texas, the Gulf of Mexico! New birds and warmer climes. Except we wouldn’t get there . . .

~~`oo0oo~~

Wyoming Honeymoon

We flew into Jackson Hole from San Francisco. Change in temperature. I was still in short pants – had to change pretty quick! This was week three of our honeymoon, so we were into the groove: Fly in, find a car, then look around for the best places to visit and find cheap lodgings near there. Aitch was better’n me at that. She’d actually look and weigh up options.

Why Wyoming? Yellowstone Park, and my childhood reading of My Friend Flicka and Thunderhead, by Mary O’Hara.

Soon I was warm. Toasty, in fact, as I was sitting – still in short pants – in a Toyota Tercel! A little all-wheel-drive station wagon with four doors and a barn door in back. The four wheel drive system included an unusual six-speed manual transmission with an extra-low gear. It could be moved from front- to four-wheel-drive without coming to a full stop; That was nifty. The 1500cc engine produced 71 HP and awesome torque – more than ample with that light body. I had a SIX speed gearbox on honeymoon in 1988! Formula 1 cars only had five at the time. Plaid seats, two gear levers, four pedals and an advanced 4WD monitoring / information system were standard. Trish asked me, ‘Who do you love more? Me, or this one-week rental car!?’

I cleared my throat . . um, YOU – in a Toyota Tercel!

Then we found the Antler Motel. I said I LIKE the look of this place. She said ‘You’re only looking at the price.’ How do they do that? Only married a couple weeks and already she can see right through me!

We found out we were too early for Yellowstone – the road was still blocked with a wall of snow and we were turned back well short of the park boundary. Shoulda done my homework, glad I didnt. The countryside and views were breath-taking. All the way on our left the Grand Teton mountains loomed, disappearing behind cloud and then fully revealed as the cloud cover cleared from time to time. All around was deeper snow than either of us had seen before and on our right were rivers with Trumpeter Swans. And a moose!

One evening we went to the elk winter refuge, and enjoyed a sleigh ride on which we saw a grouse in a tree. Grouse, swans and elk in the wild – things I’d read about all my life, and here they were! I was chuffed. Also, being married . .

Also, I had read Thunderhead as a ten year-old. About a horse in SE Wyoming. I loved that book and also My Friend Flicka (Thunderhead’s mother), which I read next. Those books’ descriptions were all I knew about Wyoming, but it was enough to want to get there. Plus the attraction of Yellowstone (‘course, I could have checked if it was open before we flew in!).

– the elk overwinter here, then move back up north as it warms up –

Every stream I came to I’d get out and search. Then I saw it: A Dipper – at last! It flashed down onto a rock next to the current – and dived underwater! I’d spotted a dipper! I’d read about these little songbirds for years – and here was one doing what they do: hunt underwater!

What a honeymoon! A. You, my dear; B. The Dipper; C. The Grand Teton mountains; D. That Toyota Tercel.

That night in our cozy motel room my sternest critic suggested I was thickly settled:

Wait! Did I show you a pic of our Toyota Tercel? It was all-wheel . . what? oh okay . . .

– 2-4-6 !! – 2 gearlevers – 4 pedals – 6 forward gears – just saying . . –

~~~oo0oo~~~

The old photo album has been tossed – after I recorded all the pics here:

Next: On to Washington. Hell no, not DC, the state . . we have a ferry to catch.

–oo0oo–

Tag Archives: Peter Koos Swanepoel

Fab Five Reunion

Like this:

Storm in a Shopping Trolley

Like this:

California Honeymoon

Like this:

Childless Cathedral

Like this:

Cousin Liz

Like this:

Mow a Meadow

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A Vrystaat Shepherd’s Cottage

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Phinda

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The Red-Faced Barbet

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Glorious Self Isolation

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Kosi Bay with a Boat

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