Stephen Gray : Unspoilt places
They first appear, like sentinels, on the dirt roads north of Calvinia in the Northern Cape. Then up over the salt pans, en route to the Orange River at Upington, there is the occasional specimen, linking the sky to the dry, dusty, arid landscape. Keep on the R27 surely South Africas loneliest long-haul right through Bushmanland on the old inland route to South West. Seven kilometres short of Kenhardt, on a slight rise, one cannot help noticing suddenly on either side of the rocky outcrop that these strange trees have migrated there. Here is the countrys only Kokerboom Forest Reserve. Stop and walk. This is a sacred grove awesome to behold. And the pathway loops over 4km.
The kokerboom or quiver-tree is, in fact, a member of South Africas vast aloe family number 29 on the National List, Aloe dichotoma. It has been known to Westerners at least since Simon van der Stels 1685 expedition to these parts to prospect for copper. On craggy hillsides it still makes its stand, growing to all of 9m high.
The roundish crown gives a Pierneef geometrical effect, especially against that vacant blue. From the middle of the stem rise the upward-growing branches. They seem to filter the blazing light-yellowish bark, and once a year, the yellowest of blossoms.
These piled yellow flowers are a winter display (May to July), the flames on the candelabra. Sunbirds come to savour them not just a few sparklers, but whole flocks. In the encampment are some 4 000 trees, so those tangled cups contain pints of nectar. Baboons used to harvest them, human beings as well. Witsap it used to be called, a not too bitter thirst-quencher.
Declared a reserve by the old Cape Nature Conservation department only in 1993, the forest is as yet hardly known abroad. The local Bushmen would hollow out quivers for their arrows from the light branches which are like a compact loofa. With temperatures rising to 40 degrees in summer, the later settlers used the fibre, when dampened, as a refrigerant. A collapsed kokerboom is a bizarre sight. Sometimes a communal birds- nest takes over and the structure implodes.
The nearby mutton-producing town of Kenhardt is named after a hardy trader. It is still on a manual exchange (05462). Ask for 25, and friendly Willie du Plessis in the town clerks office will oblige with desert data. The local hotel can handle tourists being astounded at their photogenic growth.
Although the forest is on the privately owned Driekop Farm, the reserve part is open to the public throughout the year. No charge.