AUTHOR and poet Louis Leipoldt called it one of the seven wonders of the old Cape Province when it created access through the Swartberg mountains to the north for farmers and travellers. But today people come from across the country, not to travel to the other side of the rugged mountains but to wonder at Seweweekspoort’s kaleidoscope of rock formations that dwarf all who enter this grand canyon.
The poort cuts a swathe through the Swartberg Nature Reserve, a World Heritage Site, from the nearby mission village of Zoar on Route 62 between Calitzdorp and Ladismith for 17km, to emerge on the northern side of the Karoo where the gravel road continues to meander towards the N1 and the town of Laingsburg.
But it is to the poort itself that visitors come. No sooner has one entered the narrow ravine when giant walls of rock, aged in shades of ochre and brown, rise up on either side, leaving only sufficient space to allow passage along the gravel road that shares the floor of the poort with the Huis River. The road twists and turns in harmony with the river as at times the rippled sandstone walls, created by volcanic force millions of years ago, shut out the sun and seem to create an impenetrable barrier to progress before the road takes another daring turn to reveal a way forward.
There is some debate as to how the poort gained its strange name. Some say it took seven weeks for mounted troops to escort a gang of highway robbers through the almost impassable surroundings, while others believe the poort was named after a local missionary, Reverend Zwerwick who did his good work in the area.
It is possible the name is derived from the seven weeks fern (seweweeksvaring in Afrikaans) which grows in crevices and moist spots. I favour the belief that it got its name from the time it took brandy smugglers to transport their ill-gotten cargo through the poort to Beaufort West. It certainly has more mystique than Huisrivierpoort (House River poort), which it might well have been called if left to those with less imagination.
Construction of the road through the poort began in 1859, initially using convict labour under the direction of AF de Smidt, brother in law of legendary pass builder Thomas Bain, who probably gave the team a few tips along the way. It was completed in 1862 and still remains a twisting and turning gravel road demanding all the attention of the driver to negotiate the bends at speeds only a little faster than the horse-drawn wagons of the past. De Smidt’s base camp was in a place called Aristata, named after the rare Protea rediscovered here in 1952.
Today little has changed. There is not even electricity, but it is the only place where one can stay in the poort. There is just enough space between the cliff faces to accommodate a few old farm houses where guests can stay in rustic accommodation beside the river and surrounded by the ever-present mountain walls.
Once an inn for passing travellers, the thick walls of the main house ensure cool comfort in summer and warmth in winter, while a swimming pool fed by a spring is an ideal spot to relax and enjoy the spectacular surroundings.
On a clear night the sky between the mountain peaks is alive with stars.
We decide the best way to view the splendour is slowly on mountain bikes and leave Aristata to pedal the gradual incline upstream. We lose count of how many times the road crosses the river via narrow causeways but it must be close to 30. Certainly frequent enough for us to refresh ourselves regularly in the crystal clear running water. But despite being summer and normally hot in this part of the Karoo, the floor of the poort remains cool, only the midday sun warming us as its rays reach between the walls.
While the ride is leisurely with regular pauses to admire the contorted rock shapes twisted into hideous angles as if to permit access for the road, we do hasten the pace when the overhanging rocks appear ready to rumble and flatten everything in their path.
A thatched picnic spot beside a cave, an ideal place for the robbers and smugglers of old to hide, provides a welcome picnic break. Along the road we pass the remains of an old toll house where legend has it the ghost of the tollkeeper may occasionally be seen on stormy nights. He appears in the road swinging his lamp to attract the attention of the occasional motorist, but when they stop he disappears into the night with a chuckle.
As the cliff walls part before us, giving us sight of the steep mountains ahead, we catch a glimpse of the tallest Seweweekspoort peak, which at 2325m is the highest in the Swartberg — and the highest mountain in the Western Cape.
Then the mountain walls envelop us once again, shutting out any view of the way ahead and we follow the trusty road as if in a giant maze expecting the way before us to be barred by a massive krantz. But just when it seems it will be impossible to proceed, the road makes a hairpin bend and we are able to continue our zigzag journey.
Reluctantly we arrive at the end of the poort and begin our ride back to Aristata. This time we are a little faster as we are travelling in the same direction as the river on a gentle decline, twisting and twining between the flexures and curves of this mountain chasm.
We pause at an unmarked track and follow it to the Tierkloof dam, built recently between the rock faces to provide a reliable source of drinking water for nearby Zoar
It has not taken us seven weeks, not even seven hours, to travel through the poort, but we cannot help sharing Louis Leipoldt’s wonder at the grandeur of the surroundings.
• Aristata Seweweekspoort, rates from R350 a night, (028) 551-2355, www.7weeks.co.za.
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