Tiffendell Ski Resort

Up where we belong…

I recall the opening lyrics of the song made famous by Rocker Legend Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes:

Who knows what tomorrow brings

In a world, few hearts survive

All I know is the way I feel

When it is real, I keep it alive…

Driving along the gravel road leading up Carlisleshoek Pass (2563 m) and leaving behind the small hamlet of Rhodes, I am overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. It is kaleidoscopic and leaves one feeling uplifted yet somehow betwixt and between.

Both grateful and relieved at the same time. Relief to be here, after the 10hour trip down from Johannesburg with an overnight in a nameless hotel in Aliwal North and then the morning drive through to Barkly East, onto Rhodes and beyond. To have finally made it to the Eastern Cape Highlands after more than a year of planning that saw this trip postponed time and again. Awesome to be high in the mountains with no plastic bags bordering the roadside and rivers. Yet, feeling a little blue at sight of the turbulent waters below, darkened from the run- off from the recent rains and with the prospect of more bad weather in the offing; I ponder going home with little or no reward for my efforts.

Peering out the side window of my ’All Wheel Drive’, I marvel at the unbridled space and the sense of tranquillity that it brings. It is the month of March and everything is so lush and green. I am happy that the rains have finally come but wish they would cease or even abate for at least a week. There is also the WTA festival later in the month but by then, I will probably have left.

Water seems to leak from every crevice and cranny and there is one magnificent waterfall that stands out for all to see. My wife, ‘oos’ and ‘aahs’ in appreciation as she points out each splendour for me to see. There are a few causeways and they all have running water about ankle deep covering the crossing and I shudder to think of the consequence of yet more rain…

I wonder whether it is wise to drive up on my own or to catch the shuttle to the Resort from Rhodes. Too late, I am at the base of the steep incline with little or no cell phone reception. I consider that the damp road conditions can make the pass more difficult to handle than in drier periods. My wife reads my thoughts and becomes quiet. There is a sign that advises one to walk to the top, if difficulties are encountered… a telephone number is provided...

I swallow hard and the Dif f. lock automatically clicks into play as we slowly move up the meandering route until we safely reach the crest. The reward on the top is of one of the most glorious natural sights in all of South Africa.

The outlook here is picture postcard perfect and the silence is palpable.; an expanse of green, dotted with a myriad of red, white, yellow and orange flowers. It is simply too beautiful for words and the pics may not do it justice.

I stop to take it all in, breathe deeply and at the same time metaphorically, pat myself on the back.

The road is long

There are mountains in our way

But we climb a step every day

I am here as a guest of Tiffindell Ski Resort, the highest resort in all of SA at 2720m and my host is non- other than the amiable Maarten Den Heyer, the General Manager. Maarten is a bear of a man who could easily wrestle the Yeti if it were found in these parts, whilst he has the skill to handle and revive a freshly- caught trout. Maarten is best described as having a humble personage and a zest for life.

It is clear to see that Tiff runs in his blood and his passion is what makes the difference to this little gem of a resort, perched high up on the slopes of Ben Mc Dhui 3001m. One only has to flit through the gallery pics of an accommodation site, featuring Tiff to see the beaming face of Maarten holding aloft a monster trout; to understand his second passion in life.

I am a very average fly fisher who gains most pleasure in relating my experiences to you through these pages, and hopefully imparting some jewel of a tip(pet) that may indeed benefit you when you do decide to visit one day. I happily accept the offer of Maarten, a reserve Springbok fisherman, and WTA guide, to act as my buddy during my stay at the Tiffindell Ski and Alpine Resort. I reason that one of us has to catch whilst the other captures the moment.

Tiffindell Ski Resort

“Ski resort” my mind screams, is this not a fly fishing experience? I rationalise that snow skiing may be the greater attraction in the winter months of June, July and August when they do have snow here (and they make it, if there is not enough). But this is March, after all and one of the better months in which to fish.

Aside from skiing, guests also come here for the eight mountain passes that traverse the region; to enjoy relaxing family times together with great accommodation and dining, alpine fresh mountain air, hiking , grass skiing, quad biking, botany, birding and some of the best high altitude still water fly fishing in all of SA. We all know what clear, unpolluted, well oxygenated water does for trout …. and if you don’t know, then please join me on this trip, whilst I show you all that I may…

We are booked into a self- catering alpinechalet which is equal in standard to any 4/5 ‘star’ graded establishment, that I have previously visited. Our accommodation is a wood framed double story with the lower section for common usage and the upper for sleeping. The lounge and dining easily seats 6 adults. There is a TV having a few selected channels but not DSTV. (If you want that you need to go to the pub in the lodge where there is a big screen). The kitchen is well appointed and the whole area breathes in light and awesome views with many doublepaned glass windows to ward off the biting cold. Gas is piped into the chalet via wall heaters and there is a toilet/basin and shower on ground level. Under the stairs there is a tumble drier and washing machine and loads of space for storing hiking, fishing kit and any other equipment that you may bring along. Upstairs you have the master bedroom which is en’ suite with a bath and another room with two single beds.

We decide to eat out on the first night and the pub serves up a great three course meal that would not be out of place in any of the eateries that I frequent. The restaurant itself is closed, only open in the busy months. The staff are friendly and have a ‘can do’ attitude, which is such a pleasing change from the city that I feel I must mention it here.

It rains during the night and in the morning the three resort dams, are the colour of last night’s vegetable soup. I try a few casts in the early morning with sod- all luck.

As my vehicle has now stopped working, Maarten and all his merry men gather around and try to find the source of the problem. With modern day vehicles being as they are; and especially with autos governed by sophisticated computers, I begin to feel rather

gloomy at the prospect of getting safely off the mountain.

Maarten suggests we try some fishing, possibly as a means to cheer me up and we set off for Loch Ness, a WTA governed still water.

The rain has stopped and the sediment begins to settle in the late afternoon cool, but water is still flowing profusely into this large lake that is surrounded by mountains with many streams flecking the slopes. We walk through waterlogged grass to get to the water’s edge and then wade on in, in order to cast over the thick weed. You need more than a fair decent cast to get into a deep channel .No waders are necessary for Maarten as he goes in ‘boots en al’. Fishing conventionally from the dry of the wall is not recommended as the weed is quite prolific and should you indeed hook up, then you will most likely lose the fight through trout seeking refuge in the weed. We are joined, lakeside by Mike Visser the LAN Manager for the resort who is also a dab hand at fly fishing.

We all have a go, but agree that it is my role to capture the moments on film and to put words to the activities that we are experiencing. I follow Maarten, as he pushes through all manner of obstacles to circuit the lake in his quest to find a most suitable lie from which to execute his plan. He suggests that I follow him with a rig that is made up with a large Mrs Simpson, dressed with all it’s razzle dazzle; atop a much smaller but yet very visible nymph. The dropper could change depending on any hatchings, bearing testimony to what works and what doesn’t.

The takes are massive, savage thuggery actually; resembling a recent video where a leopard is seen snatching meat from the closed jaws of a crocodile. Unless you were fully conscious you ended up with a broken hook, tippet or worse.

We were all using light tackle and an unwritten rule has passed amongst the three of us, to persevere with that and not change down to a lower(X) tippet/leader strength. It was up to the fisherman’s expertise to hook, net and release these monsters, unharmed back into the water.

Maarten is first on the board and happily records the only score for the day with a nice 5lb Rainbow cock trout. Mike and I are thrilled for him but determined to challenge that score the next day.

We end the day with drinks and snacks served from the back of the bakkie as we swop fishing stories fortified with our suitable liquid refreshment .I can’t think of another place that I would rather be at this particular time, with my fishing companions and the sun going down over the mountain, it surely does not get better than this.

We head back to the pub for a wind- medown and another scrumptious three- course meal which strangely champions a speciality trout dish. I reflect on my many strikes of the day that heralded absolutely nought and almost feel justified in enjoying the tasty flesh, perfectly baked in the ovens below and by a chef who has been with the resort for 20 years or more.

I go to bed nicely satisfied ; but I can’t sleep for worry, and toss and turn at the thought of my confounded car, inoperable and stuck up on the mountain .With the prospect of more thundershowers on the weekend, I play out the options that are open to me .

Final Day

Our time in the mountains is cut short as we decide to get down to Rhodes before the bad weather really sets in. Maarten jumpstarts the vehicle which sets off an array of different coloured lights. Turning the ignition springs the engine into life and some of the lights remain on, others disappear and few new ones light up the dashboard. We make it safely down and arrive in Rhodes and whilst still leaving the engine on, I bid Maarten farewell and press on to Barkly East.

There the vehicle finally dies a death.

We arrange a tow to Aliwal North, stay overnight in the same non- descript lodgings as for the downward trip and then leave early, the next morning for the car dealer in Bloemfontein. My wife and I leave the car there and hire a vehicle to take us back to Joburg.

Final Analysis

Tiffindell is well worth a visit. Next time I will consider the shuttle option especially in poor weather conditions and then one you can r e a l l y ‘ l e t g o ’ i n v e r y b e a u t i f u l surroundings .The accommodation we stayed in is luxury and there are so many options available that you need to check this out with the resort itself. If it is fishing that interests you, then I would suggest you go for around 4x tackle unless you are feeling kind or lucky. Nymphing seems to be the way to go but I would consider a float tube as the weed can be a hassle. Possibly the WTA could do something to make the weed less of a challenge? Whether it be fishing or skiing or just plain relaxing, the staff will surely make your stay a pleasant one and I would use Mike or Maarten as a fishing guide.

Maarten has been with Tiff for a little over 22 years and is a qualified alpine skier, professional ski instructor and is qualified in the art of snow-making. He wants his guests to enjoy and have fun and leads a fine team, by way of example.

I am indeed grateful to all those at Tiff for making my experience so memorable. This fishing was good and the people were great. I recall the lyric made famous by the late Joe Cocker and am thankful to all those whom I met along the way.

I get by with a little help from my friends

Will I return?

Do fish swim?