Cairnbrogie trail – a run on the wild side
“We won’t regret it,” is a phrase that my running companion Matt and I have uttered to each other in wry jest many times in recent years. These four words arose from a particular training ride in 2019 where dark clouds were looming, but we decided to cycle anyway citing fears of regretting not going if wet weather didn’t transpire. It did, however, in buckets and although we completed that ride it was only because you don’t really have another option when you’re on the return journey anyway.
‘Drenched’ takes on a completely new meaning when you must then undress and wring out your lycra shorts outside your house. Note: don’t try this in public!
Ever since then I’m a self-proclaimed fair-weather cyclist. Even if there are just a few woolly off-white clouds in the sky, I’ve been known to call off a ride with a dramatically worded text message claiming nearby flooding and the building of arks. There, I’ve said it – I’ve flaked occasionally. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.
So, this morning, when I pulled up the kitchen blind only to be greeted with grey skies and a strong south westerly, reminders of that ride three years ago resurfaced. Fortunately, today we’d planned a run, so there was no threat of a soggy cycling shorts repeat, which eased my mind considerably. I don’t mind running in the rain, but there’s no pleasure for me in cycling wet. In my twenties I cycled from Wimbledon into the centre of London every working day for two years come rain, sleet, or snow, so maybe it’s PTSD from that. Or maybe it’s just age. Whatever the reason, wet tyres and I just don’t gel anymore!
Dressed in well-planned layers, I was still running on the spot to keep warm as Matt arrived at my gate in his Triton to collect me. “Not looking too bad, is it?” said Matt, ever the weather optimist, as I climbed into the passenger seat. I simply rolled my eyes and replied, “We may just regret this after all.”
Cairnbrogie is a working dairy farm on the Robberg Coastal Corridor to the west of Plettenberg Bay. Besides producing delicious cold-purified full-cream-milk, for many years it has played host to seasonal cycling and trail running events such as the Pennypinchers/Buco Easter Adventure Weekend. In recent years, they’ve built the estate into an adventure sports park by extending the cycling, running and hiking trails and they’ve even created a pump track for younger cyclists and others to enjoy if they’re not into distance riding.
I’ve cycled along the cliff route at Cairnbrogie many times, but today was my maiden trail-run attempt, and I was excited to experience it from a different perspective. The gates to the farm open at 07h30, so from there we made our way to the pump track and café which has an honesty box where you can insert your R60 per person for a single-day permit. There are also annual permits for singles, couples and families, so if you’re planning to use the park regularly, a season ticket would be well worth it.
If you’re cycling, hiking or running, you can leave your car at the pump trail parking area and set off on your bike or by foot following the various trails around the estate. We were only going to be doing the cliff-top trail, so we headed off down the farm roads in Matt’s vehicle.
Another note: the farm roads become fairly rugged and potholed further on, so a bakkie or 4×4 would be advisable. Also, there are plenty of free-range cows about so make sure to close any gates behind you.
Riding shotgun, it soon became clear that it was my job to open and close said gates, with muddy feet and the smell of cow dung on a wet morning being my only reward. I did, however, receive a well-timed moo from a bovine onlooker and a hairy glance from a large male Cape baboon perched on a pole.
The western edge of the estate borders the MTO forests, and this is where we were to begin our run. There are a couple of signboards clearly indicating the start of the trail and white circles with blue feet are neatly painted on rocks in the path to ensure you’re on the right track. The gorge to the right of the trail is spectacular as you gradually descend towards the path that follows the contours along the top of the cliff. The sea beneath is wild with thundering waves and the wind whips about you with a life of its own. It’s hard not to feel a little bit small and a whole lot inspired when you’re standing on a rocky ledge overlooking the edge of Africa knowing that the next stop is Antarctica.
“Watch your footing,” says Matt between breaths as the path becomes sharply undulating and rocky. For hiking, there’s nothing too tricky about it, but for trail running it’s the kind of track that would test your technical ability and at the very least be good practice for hopscotch (if you’re into that kind of thing). I’m glad I have good trainers with a bit of ankle support as this is not just a one-foot-in-front-of-the-other kind of route.
The fynbos has recovered nicely since the 2017 fires swept through this area, but there are still steeper slopes with bare faces and burnt branches which stand in stark contrast to the otherwise green vegetation. Indigenous bush like Erica and blombos are abundant which is pleasing since alien vegetation is inclined to take over if given the slightest chance.
As the ground was still wet and there was a light drizzle, we cautiously crossed the log bridges which were quite slippery and emerged from the cliff-top path at the eastern side of the estate to start the return journey. This section made a dog-leg and took us inland slightly on a track which is shared with cyclists, so watch out for fellow adventurers hurtling around corners on two wheels.
We arrived back at our starting point with damp feet from the wet grasses and puddles but invigorated from the trying circuit and fresh morning sea air. My Strava had recorded 5,06 km in a time of 52 min, so while we weren’t going to be breaking any local records at 10 minutes per kay, we were pretty pleased with our effort, and both agreed that a return to the coffee shop for a well-earned hot treat was in order.
Armed with a milk-from-the-farm cappuccino each, Matt and I patted ourselves on the back at completing another midweek mini-adventure and settled down at one of the outdoor picnic tables inside the walled quadrangle that houses the open-air pump track. The discussion turned to our next outing which will be a run from Nature’s Valley to Salt River Mouth one weekend soon (if the weather holds).
Besides hiking, running and cycling, Cairnbrogie offers a number of other activities from horse-riding and birdwatching to catch-and-release fishing. You can even walk your dogs on the farm provided they’re on a leash and you stick to the designated routes. “Don’t bother bringing your dogs then,” says Matt, who knows that my two unruly hounds would rather garrotte themselves than obediently heel.
Arriving back at home I take off my shoes and toss my saturated socks into the laundry basket. I peel off the wet t-shirt that is clinging to my back like an Elastoplast with separation anxiety. I turn on the shower, and as I wait for the warm water to journey through the pipes I smile and conclude that even though I got decidedly damp, I certainly don’t regret it.
- Find out more about the Cairnbrogie trails and activities here
- Visit www.cairnbrogie.co.za to book your season pass online
