An impromptu speed session

2 posts in 1 day! The weekend deserves its own post because of some running-related craziness and a change in location.

On Friday afternoon after work, Ivy and I hitched along with our coworker Robyn to the Drakensberg Mountains (the Berg...chiseled, weather-beaten, and stoic like a certain other Berg) on the border of Lesotho. Robyn's a native Durbanite and recent college grad working with us at the same HIV research organization. She's been a blast to hang out with and has been an incredible tour guide, showing us around the area. She very generously invited us to a vacation up in the Berg with her family and family friends.

We stayed at this nice resort in the foothills of the mountains with some absolutely beautiful views of the area. On Saturday after a round of mini golf, I headed out for a run. After a week's worth of running on asphalt in Durban, it was nice to run on some trails. Too bad the trails were at elevation and the hills here are not so much hills as mountains. Oh well.

There are a number of trails that run around the resort into the foothills. Figuring I'd just find one and hope it took me cool places, I set out. I followed some signs to a set of trails that diverged from a main path. I continued on the main path until I hit a T, with a sign for a trail on 1 side and a "Private Property" sign on the other. Deciding the trail with the sign was too steep, I cut onto private property, figuring (somewhat naively) that since all of the other paths seemed to lead to trails, that this trail would cut through private property briefly and back onto one of the legit trails. Big mistake.

Before I continue, 2 things. The exact text on the sign (which I would later carefully inspect) read: "Private Property. Enter entirely at your own risk." There was no gate, no fence, nothing to physically stop anyone from walking or driving through. There was no "No Trespassing" sign.

In any case, I entered entirely at my own risk. The road wound up and down and around some pretty cool, grassy hills. After awhile, I came up to 2 nice cottages set up on a hill, and later turned around just before hitting a fence with an old blue pickup and a house set back from the fence. On my way back, I heard a car behind me about 2 1/2 miles away from the private property sign. I stopped to let it by and turned around to see the blue pickup coming down the road from where I had come.

The pickup stops when it gets to me. A weather-beaten middle-aged dude gets out. I'm not really sure what's going on. He opens his mouth. "You get the fuck off my property. Go back from where you came from." I respond, "I'm sorry." "Fuck off! Get out! And learn how to read." There isn't much room for explanation on my part. I totally unprepared for this scenario, so I just kind of stand there dumbfounded and take it. "Fuck, man! You'd better run!" At this point I take off in a dead sprint.

Unfortunately the way he cornered me into running was away from the way that I knew out. He turned his pickup around and came back toward me and the house. Deciding I didn't really want to run into him again, I turned into the deep bushes and grass on the side of the hill and walked down where he wouldn't see me. Still afraid that he was going to see me from his house and chase me down, I cut through the grass, which was about shoulder height and made it impossible a lot of the time to see where I was stepping. I couldn't continue this way the whole way back, though, and I finally got onto the main trail. I booked it back to the resort, feeling like I heard the truck coming several times down the road.

All in all, I was pretty shaken up for awhile. A braai (South African bbq), a few Namibian beers, and some great company later, I was able to relax.

Week 6/15-6/21:

Total mileage: 35 miles