Dawn Run

The sun’s rays had barely hit the sky when we walked out that wooden paneled door. Tristan and I made our way down the broken pavement that wound through the homes and bush of this South African village. Eventually we met Bradley and Heinrich; all of us decided we were going to start off our morning with a run. But we weren’t keen on running through town, running through the paved roads. So hidden inside of Jeffreys Bay is a Nature Reserve, so we decided we would run through there instead. So we all stepped confidently into the secluded trail tucked away in the calamity of vegetation and greenery.

The run started out fun, like any other trail run. With our feet light and our breathing in rhythm we all stayed close as we ran through the dirt, and puddles and stones. Bradley, displaying his sleeve of tattoos led the way displaying his wisdom and faith along with his confidence in leading anyone into any forest. Right behind him trailed Tristan, all 6’6” of him, with leadership and mercy filling up his entirety he is always close behind any person who made need him. In front of me was Heinrich, the one who is so willing to take any spot in the group, the leader or follower and fill that position to its fullest, the one who doesn’t have to speak as much as the rest of us because his actions claim your respect. And then I, the lone girl, brought up the rear of our little train.

So we hiked and we hitched, we hopped over, leaped over and pranced over numerous things. We soared and hurdled; we jolted and jumped, as we made our venture through this woodland hidden in a hole in J-bay. All was well; all was fun and games until…

We started to slow down, just a bit because the branches were getting overwhelming and overbearing. As I heard a slight commotion to the east my head whipped around, thinking it must have just been an animal I continued on my way following the boys’ lead. All of a sudden our entire atmosphere changed, each one of us felt it almost instantaneously. One moment the flavor of the mood was full of a giddy frolic and then in the next you could cut through the tension weighing the humid African air, as our hearts began to pound a little faster we couldn’t hide it. Our breathing was giving us away and we could see it in each other’s eyes; a worry, a confusion, an anxiety. We all knew someone else was in the forest with us.

All of a sudden I remembered sitting at dinner the previous night with Roy (a mutual friend of ours) as he asked the question, “Don’t people live in there?” When we told him where we were going for our morning run. As that same moment of remembrance, I thought now there was no way we weren’t noticed by our fellow forest wanderers. My heart was pounding so loud within my chest I thought my rib cage was going to break, if not my legs from the shock realization that we may not make it out of the forest the same way we made it in.

We all circled around with a concerned look in our eyes each of us told the other not to make a sound and to try to stay calm. Brad headed east, in the direction that that first initial sound came from. All four of us crouched down behind the green walls of the reserve. We crouched down, my feet burning on the hard African soil poached with natural riches and my skin burned with the spiders crawling towards my scarlet sunburn, and my face was planted right in the hard thorns of that green wall. This natural reserve’s vegetation isn’t like that of America’s. It’s almost as if each branch of each tree held a grudge, holds a resentment. It feels like the entire forest is holding in an anger that it gathered in the depths of its soul during a mourning centuries before we even stepped onto its heart broken soil.

As all eight of our eyes peered through the thorns and shrubbery we saw something none of us will ever want to remember, or forget for that matter. You hear stories, but never know if they’re true, or how much of the legends are true. I don’t know all of the South African stories that have been passed from generation to generation but this legend I am confident will grow past our band of characters.

We watched an old man, one of fragile, one of decay as he stood stirring, making some type of brew. Instantly we all knew he was a medicine man, at the same time we all smelled the aroma of decaying human. I had to catch myself quickly, I thought I was going to vomit; the stench was so strong. As we all covered our noses and mouths we heard the footsteps coming. More people; loyals, rebels, hunters, we didn’t know and I don’t think any of us wanted to stick around to find out. Bradley reached through the bush grabbing a machete that lay on the ground. At first my objection suggested we not steal the deranged witch doctor’s weapons, or killing equipment. But knowing it was our lives at risk and knowing Brad’s skills with the machete that he learned only from his time in prison I knew I couldn’t object.

Slowly we all turned away from what we were watching. The making of a stew, a sacred ritual, a murder; we have no idea. But with caution and heed we all slid our way back to our main trail. And then we dashed for it.

All four of us began to run faster than we had the first half of our run, we all became a little quicker, a little quieter. My feet were pounding rhythmically up and down the trail; left, right, left, right. Watching every step, knowing there wasn’t room for mistakes. Left on the ground, right on top of the flat stone; push off, pounce across the creek, left on the rock, right back on the soil of the trail. Every step of your foot on target, with your hands synchronized as they push back the branches falling on our heads. Through the tops of the trees, I could see the sunlight breaking through. As soon as my heart began to calm, I heard them again… the footsteps.

Fifteen more steps and we reached the top of the hole, the outer banks of the nature reserve. Eleven more steps and I reached the chained fence that blocked us from our escape. We all climbed the fence, knowing our lives were depending on our athletic ability at that point. Finally, all four of us, a little more haphazard physically and emotionally reached the road. As Heinrich made the last jump over the fence he turned and saw deep black eyes, lost in a world of darkness and death, pull back into the brush.

So we stood there, all four of us, catching our breathe on that desolate road that made the barrier between J-Bay’s civilization and lost encampment; just as the sun’s rays finally stretched across the sky.

We traveled that day through South African’s nature reserve. No we didn’t see a medicine man, or a murder, or any spiritual ritual of the sort. Our run through the reserve was quite pleasant and playful. But I’m sure it could have happened … :)