It’s the indigenous forest that lures hikers to Magoebaskloof, but you’ve barely taken your first step on the Magoebaskloof Hiking Trail and you find yourself in the shade of enormous bluegums. 
Alexander O’Connor, one of the kloof’s first foresters, planted them more than 100 years ago.
A signboard next to a huge splintered tree stump reads:
    Eucalyptus saligna
    Planted 1905/’06
    Diameter 1,31 m
    Height 81,5m
    Volume 67,25m3
    Largest planted tree in the Southern Hemisphere
Jan Spies, a lecturer from Pretoria, works out that the tree was 30 storeys high. It was blown over in a storm in 2006, but its successor has already been identified and will soon be labelled. 
We hike through a pine plantation and then reach the indigenous forest. Once we’re among the trees, we can see barely 20m ahead. 
Old man’s beard hangs from the branches, ferns abound in the undergrowth, and moss and clivias grow in every cranny. 
My knees complain in the winter chill, and I’m grateful that I’ve got a makeshift walking stick – one that was used to poke around in the fire last night. 
Every once in a while we have to clamber over the roots of one of these big trees. 
A chilly wind cuts through our jackets as we stop at a small waterfall for tea. Every time we pause
along the way, everyone puts on their jackets, but as soon as we start walking again the top layer is peeled off and the jackets go back into our backpacks. 
We pass two rectangular holes about a metre deep. These must be the remains of the saw-pits I read about, dug by woodcutters at the end of the 1800s before they felled an old forest giant and towed the logs out with mules. I’m sure this forest has many stories. 
Lady Florence Phillips, wife of the mining magnate Sir Lionel Phillips, was a colourful character in one forest story. 
Early in the 1900s, she persuaded her husband to buy land in the kloof and establish a horse farm to boost agriculture in the area after the devastation of the Anglo-Boer War. Later, the couple retired to the wine farm Vergelegen, near Somerset West. 
Just before the 9km mark, we pass through a copse of oak trees that Lady Florence planted. The oaks trace ghostly images against the emerald hue of the pine trees and the multiple shades of green of the indigenous trees beyond. 
“If one stays somewhere for longer than a week, one should plant a tree,” Lady Florence is reputed to have said.

We stop for lunch in a place that must once have been a great picnic spot. One of the rotten planks of the picnic table breaks under my weight. Behind us is an outhouse. A small stream – the overflow of the Dap Naudé Dam – babbles past. 
The dam’s steep, twisting banks reminds me of a Norwegian fjord. It’s only half full, as a team of workmen is busy repairing the dam wall. 
The wind is still blowing. The trees creak and groan as they sway to and fro. We turn off the forestry path once more and head back into the forest. 
“It sounds as if the trees are fighting when their branches smack into one another like that,” says Darius Venter, a technician from Pretoria.

It's 3PM when I drop my backpack to the floor in the Waterval Hut, which looks out over a  fire-blackened vlei. About 10m away is the small waterfall that gives the hut its name. 
It’s mid-July and very cold. I don’t feel like having a cold shower, so I boil two litres of water on my gas stove. From another pot I mix small quantities of cold water and wash myself from head to toe. 
“Today was tough,” says Thea Campher, who has never been on an overnight hike before. 
Her boyfriend, André Venter, has a blister on his heel that needs doctoring. 
Jana Walker, Darius’s girlfriend, borrowed a backpack that is too tall for her body, and her shoulders have taken a beating. 
Everybody is tired. All we want to do is go to bed. Before darkness falls, everyone has cooked their supper over the fire. We huddle around the flickering flames, trying to absorb enough heat to last us through the night. 
I peek at my cellphone’s screen as we turn in – it’s barely 7.30pm.

“I’m breathing clouds of steam. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get up,” says Chel-Marí Spies from her -10°C-rated sleeping bag. Only her face shows between her beanie and the sleeping bag’s hood.
The rest of us are scurrying around to get everything into our backpacks.
I had a cold night, and so did the foursome from Pretoria, who slept packed like sardines on the floor of the other room.
André’s knee started aching yesterday. We part ways with him and Thea at the small waterfall just before 8am. They have decided to walk along the forestry roads to the next hut. 
It’s dead quiet in the forest, which is still thawing after the freezing-cold night.
As we stop for tea, we hear baboons high on the slopes of Pypkop (1800m above sea level). The sun shines brightly, and yesterday’s freezing wind is just a memory. 
Jan and Michiel know about a hidden geocache treasure near the tea stop, which they’ve been planning to find. (Geocaching is a game in which participants leave “caches” for one another to find, placing the GPS co-ordinates on a website. A “cache” is typically a small waterproof container with a logbook and a “treasure”, usually a trinket or toy, inside.) A few of us go looking for the treasure, but in the spot where it was supposed to be is only a pile of tree stumps.
We continue walking along the contour line around Pypkop. We edge across the side of a granite
dome at least five times, with only a slack chain between the hereafter and us. Far below, the Magoebaskloof Dam glistens in the misty blue valley.
Then we start descending along the mountain slope, through the most beautiful part of the trail – kilometres of cool, green indigenous forest.

It's easy to understand how King Makgoba, after whom the kloof is named, managed to hide from the old ZAR government for such a long time. (Eventually Swazi impis tracked him down and decapitated him.) A slight melancholy still clings to the leaves – not only for Makgoba, but also for the woodcutters and gold seekers who suffered so much. 
Or perhaps I’m just feeling sorry for myself. My ankle has started to hurt, and I’m limping along at the back of the group. Every now and then, Michiel and Jan stop to see if I’m still following. I blink back the tears. 
At lunch time we stop off at one of the upper tributaries of the Politsi River, which tumbles over the 24m-high Debegeni Falls a few kilometres further. High up here, you can comfortably step over the streams. 
My sore ankle is all but forgotten when we’re on the last few hundred metres next to the Dokolewa stream. We pass a succession of pools, and the river gurgles cheerfully over smoothly polished rocks.
“This would be a great place for swimming in summer,” Lawrette says. Magoebaskloof reminds one of the Tsitsikamma forest, except that the water is clear, with a hint of blue. 
“Who would complain about a cold shower if you can stay here?” Jan says when he sees our hut on stilts. I put my feet in the pool, but within 30 seconds they’re numb with cold.
André isn’t fazed – he walks into the water and stands right under the waterfall!

In the past two days we’ve descended almost 500m. Today, we have to head back all the way up again to the Woodbush Hut, where the vehicles are parked. Crocs are hardly the ideal shoes for this kind of terrain, but my boots make my ankle worse, so I tie them to my backpack. 
Just before we turn away from the Dokolewa stream to Woodbush, we walk past four large tree ferns.
Some of the bridges that cross the stream in various places are rickety. They are only two long poles with crossbars on top. In places, you can see the remnants of a previous bridge that must have been washed away when the river came down.
“I wonder if I’m going to be the last person to walk over this bridge,” Jana says as she gingerly tries to avoid the rotten planks.
The first 4 km is a comfortable hike, but half an hour after tea time we turn away from the river and the real climbing starts. We drag ourselves upwards on the smooth pine needles.
“The light at the end of the tunnel has been switched off until further notice,” Darius heaves as we stop to catch our breath at a forestry road that intersects our path. Jana sits down flat on the ground, without even taking off her backpack. 
Our uphill struggle continues for another 45 minutes. Nobody says a word. All you hear is someone uncapping a bottle to take a few gulps of water. 
Finally, we collapse on the soft carpet of pine needles behind the Woodbush Hut, which was once a forester’s home.
Hikers fresh from a mountain trail may eat just what they like. At Picasso’s in Haenertsburg we order cheeseburgers, lasagne and hot chocolate, and eat until we’re stuffed. 
We collapse in front of the fireplace, where the restaurant’s two resident pugs lounge, each on its own chair.
The blissful warmth of the fire crawls up my arms and my muscles tingle. The cold, my sore ankle and the heavy backpack are forgotten. 
“So guys, where’s our next hike going to be?” I want to ask…

When King Mampokhu Makgoba of the baTlou tribe in the Magoebaskloof refused to pay taxes or abandon his ancestral lands, the Zuid Afrikaansche Republiek declared war against him. General Piet Joubert used Swazi impis to hunt Makgoba down in the dense kloof, where he was beheaded.

Early 1600s
The Bolobedu tribe, from which the Modjadji queens are descended, move into Magoebaskloof.

1870
The first woodcutters arrive in the kloof. They later settle in Houtbosdorp.

1886
The Okkupasiewet (“Occupation Act”) encourages white farmers to settle in the area around Tzaneen and Modjadjiskloof.

1895
Abel Erasmus of the Lydenburg commando sends 800 burghers and 6000 Swazi impis to hunt down Makgoba and his 500-odd followers in their hideout in the kloof.

1906
Sir Lionel and Lady Florence Phillips buy large swathes of land in the kloof to establish a horse farm.

1910
Alexander O’Connor is appointed chief conservation officer; he is the driving force behind the Woodbush and De Hoek plantations.

Hikers Chel-Marí and Jan Spies, who both lecture and study adventure tourism at the Tshwane University of Technology, recommend a few things:

Support your knees. “Dischem’s walking poles are actually meant for frail-care patients, but they work just as well as the hiking poles sold by outdoor shops, and cost only a quarter of the price.”
Walking pole: R50 from Dis-chem www.dischem.co.za

Dream cream. Add a cup of water to the powdered cream, whip it for a minute, and voilà, you have whipped cream to serve with canned peaches. Creamo powdered cream: R7.

Two-in-one toothbrush. The problem? You’re worried your toothpaste will get squashed in your bag. The solution? With this hiking toothbrush you squeeze some toothpaste into the handle. Pack-Lite toothbrush: R45 from Hikers Paradise 012 663 7647, or order from hiker@esnet.co.za

A light-weight stove. “You can warm your hands while you boil water,” says Jan of his Trangia stove, which burns methylated spirits. “Although it’s no longer imported, I heard you could buy a similar product in Bloemfontein.” Trangia stove: R150 from OFS Canvas ( 051 447 6807).

Handy hook. Hang your damp towel or a shirt that isn’t quite dry yet on a hook, which you tie to your backpack. Packet with three hooks: R15 from Cape Union Mart.

When is the best time to go? According to Komatiland Eco-Tourism, the best time of year to go is April or May, because Magoebaskloof gets 90% of its annual rainfall (1100-2000mm) between October and March.

How do I get there? Take the N1 north from Gauteng, and turn onto the R71 to Tzaneen. Pass through Haenertsburg and turn left at the Houtbosdorp sign to get to the Woodbush Hut.

Cost? R65 per person a night. Woodbush and Seepsteen huts are near to each other, as are Broederstroom and Waterval, and De Hoek and Dokolewa. So you have a choice between hot water (at Broederstroom and De Hoek) and a better location, as at Dokolewa.

Contact? Book at Komatiland Eco-Tourism 013 754 2724; ecotour@klf.co.za. Find out more about the trail at www.komatiecotourism.co.za.

Darius Venter, Electronics technician
“My Hang Ten body warmer worked well – the first two days that we hiked I didn’t take it off once. I loved my beer on the last night; next time I’ll definitely take one along again!”

Thea Campher, Nurse
“Because this was my first time, I didn’t know what to expect. Next time I’ll bring fewer clothes and a hiking pole. The new Scholl gel plasters that I put on my toe to stop a blister worked well – I didn’t feel it at all.”

Jana Walker, Chef
“I didn’t like the colour of my neon-green windbreaker, but it works well: It stops the wind, breathes, is light and takes up little space. I bought it at Pick ’n Pay for R90. Next time I go on a hike I’d pack a greater variety of drinks, because you get tired of Game.”

Michiel Meyer, Lecturer
“I bought myself a pair of Merrell Switchback Gore-Tex hiking boots with Vibram soles, which distribute the impact. The Gore-Tex fabric takes moisture away from your feet. I’m very happy with them. I also like taking a small gas lamp to make light for the whole party.”

Lawrette McFarlane, Photographer
“I’ll never tackle downhills without a hiking pole again. If you don’t have strong knees, it’s a must-have. I’d also take more savoury snacks – you get tired of sweets.”

André Venter, Technician
“I’ll bring more red wine and a rump steak!”