Of the many interesting experiences I’ve had here at Klipwal, I can now add being a truck driver to the list. The mine staff here have been running at full speed to try to build a new plant before Thursday. That’s when yet another potential investor is arriving in Klipwal – in a helicopter – to listen to Lloyd brag and boast about his ‘baby’ (the mine). It’s just speculation on my part, but I’m thinking the guy arriving on Thursday might have even more cash to offer than the other guys judging by his preferred mode of transport. As a result of the flurry of activity at the mine, and with Nick off in Johannesburg buying steel, timber and cable in bulk, I was drafted to be a co-driver for a delivery of carbon to our sister mine TGME (Lloyd owns other mines too) located in Pilgrim’s Rest. I quickly packed an overnight bag on Thursday morning and was teamed up with one of our drivers named Vincent for the 6 hour drive north.
Our first pit stop was only five minutes outside of Klipwal at Vincent’s house. His house was typical of the rural dwellings that dot the countryside around Klipwal, consisting of six or seven small houses and huts clustered around a larger central house. Some were made of concrete and others of mud and stone. He said he grew up in that house and when we dropped by so he could pack his bag, there were three small children playing in the grass next to the two cows that his family owned. Vincent emerged about five minutes later and had changed out of his work overalls into plaid trousers, a Liverpool FC jersey, and a black leather jacket. Ten minutes down the road there was a large market going on with people selling fruit, clothes, and toiletries by the side of the road. Vincent pointed out his mother to me who was sitting selling Avocados and oranges in the market.
After passing through Piet Retief and continuing North, the next major town that we pass is Amsterdam. One of the many towns in South Africa named after a Dutch city, Amsterdam is in no way comparable to its European namesake. The main cross-roads at Amsterdam feature a Shell station, a liquor store, and a mechanics garage. Other than that, some old houses and a few more liquor stores line the main road through the town. It did however offer one thing that Amsterdam, Holland definitely does not have: monkeys. And we would end up passing a lot of monkeys over the next few hundred kilometres. They always seemed to be playing on the roads and evade oncoming traffic just in time before getting hit.
Unfortunately Vincent and I were not like the monkeys when it came to avoiding the Mpumalanga Traffic Police. Over 200 kilometres, Vincent and I ran into 5 traffic stops, which are annoyingly popular in South Africa. The police stand in the middle of the road, wave you to pull over, and then check for your license and if your vehicle is running properly. The first one we hit, they checked Vincent’s license and sent us on our way. The second one, however, resulted in a ticket for an “improperly fastened battery”. And at the fourth stop when they asked for our little reflective triangle thingy and when we couldn’t produce one, they slapped us with another 200-rand ticket. This all seemed very petty and proved to be an enormous waste of time, as we were now behind schedule, but we continued on until we stopped at a gas station in Badplass to switch drivers.
Taking the wheel of the Toyota Hiace, I revved it up to 2nd gear and roared up the hill at 35 miles per hour. We were carrying nearly a ton of carbon on the back of this small flat bed truck (made to carry 1 ton), so it was very sluggish going up the hills. And up the hills we went until reaching the pass before entering the Barberton gold valley. After dropping down into the large bowl we slowly climbed our way back up to the next pass just south of Nelspruit. Home to the World Cup stadium held up by giraffes, Nelspruit was luckily not full of traffic as it usually is, and we breezed through the town and began the climb into the Transvaal hills. We were entering yet another South African gold country, the eastern Transvaal being home to Pilgrim’s Rest, a classic 1800’s mining town where I first started this whole journey almost two months ago. After finally reaching the sleepy tourist destination at around 4, I took the dirt access road into the valley to the mine there, where a guy named Danny was waiting for the carbon. Expecting another struggle to lift the two 500kg bags of carbon off the truck, I was relieved to see the crane they hired at their plant make quick work of the unloading process. Danny gave me the hotel reservations for the night, and I drove Vincent back to the town for some dinner and drinks.
I went back to Johnny’s Pub where Lloyd and I had a few drinks and talked with some locals back in September. I had a beer, and Vincent stuck with Sprite. The same guy was working behind the bar so I reintroduced myself and we got to talking about South Africa and how I was liking the country. Then he pointed to the flyer on the bar counter: “Thursday, October 28th, Movie Night at Johnny’s Pub.” The movie was Tombstone, and it came with a two course meal of cornbread and homemade chilli. Perfect. By 6:30 it seemed like at least half the town of Pilgrim’s Rest (pop. 90) descended on Johnny’s, and just like last time they were all extremely friendly and excited to hear about their gold mine starting up again. They started the movie at 7 and I enjoyed the chilli con carne as we watched Wyatt Earp lay down the law in the Wild West. We finally left at around 10 and Vincent drove me up the hill to the Crystal Springs Lodge where Danny had booked us in for the night.
Breakfast was included in our stay there so I took full advantage of that by raiding the cereal and muffins at the continental buffet. That morning we headed back down the steep road overlooking Pilgrim’s Rest to the valley floor and down the dirt road to the mine. It was now my job to sample the tailings dam here, just as I have done at Klipwal, and take that material back to our mine to run in over the James Table. Lloyd arrived later that morning and then assigned me the task of drafting a report outlining the processing potential of the dam there, so I will be busy completing that in time for Mr. Helicopter Bigbucks on Thursday. Soon I finished sampling and Vincent and I were on our way, heading south the way we came.
The drive back was uneventful but beautiful, with amazing views from the summits of the passes looking over miles of the jagged Drakensburg Mountains and the sweeping plains below. Everything was fine until we hit the gauntlet of police traffic stops again. This time I was the driver. They first checked my California driver’s license and while they were a bit confused and then excited, everything checked out. Then they began meticulously checking the truck, asking me to turn the hazard lights on and adjust the mirrors. I felt like I was back at the DMV taking my driving test. When I pressed down on the horn and it didn’t work, we ran into some problems. They also noticed that on one of the tires, one of the nuts was missing. He was ready to ask me to step out of the car and write me a ticket, when I quickly grabbed the two we were given the previous day and showed him. He obviously felt some pity, because he then asked me the question “Can I write you another ticket?” Not really knowing how to respond to being asked this by a cop, I replied after a long pause, “Umm....no, thank you?” And guess what, it worked! First time I’ve talked myself out of ticket.
It was six in the evening when we arrived in Piet Retief for a final fill-up. And as icing on the cake of our wonderful two-day journey, we were given a spectacle at the gas station when a crazy drunk guy stripped down naked and started running around the parking lot. The workers helplessly chased him around until the police showed up (carrying large shot guns), which was our cue to leave. I drove back the hour to Klipwal and dropped Vincent off at his house before collapsing into bed. Truck driving takes a lot out of you.
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