It was in Lesotho, Africa in 1968 when Ashton-Martin Moejane and i reached Maletsunyane Falls on horseback. There wasn’t much water in the stream that plunged 630 feet to a rocky pool below. We dismounted our horses, and tied their reins to a stubby bushes. Ashton walked right up to the precipice edge with no fear. My knees nearly buckled seeing him do that. He turned back toward me. “We should cross stream. We can see better there.”
I squatted next to the stream, stuck my right hand in the frigid water, and felt the polished granite streambed. “It’s too slippery, Ashton.”
“It’s okay.” He walked back about 25 feet from the edge to where the fast-flowing water was only 8 or 10 inches deep and the stream was only about 12 feet wide.
“Ashton, if you slip, water will carry you over the edge.”
Ashton said, “No problem,” as he walked through the stream to the other side. He turned toward me and repeated, “No problem.”
Holding my breath, i followed. The chilly fast-flowing water pushed against my legs and filled my boots. Boots! My heart skipped a beat midstream when i realized Ashton was wearing boots with grooved rubber soles while i was wearing slick leather-soled Wellingtons. Somehow i made it without slipping on the polished granite and i started breathing again.
Again Ashton casually walked up to and stood at the very edge. As i approached the edge, i lay stomach-down on the flat granite surface next to the stream, removed my straw cowboy hat, and nervously inched my way forward until i could see the pool far, far away at the base of the vertical rock wall. All of the cascading water turned to a fine mist and swirled with the winds long before reaching the rocks below. Although i lay on level solid granite, acrophobia robbed me of any joy.
As we retreated from the precipice, i insisted we walk upstream several hundred feet where water was slower and crossing less treacherous. Loose rocks and mud made it tricky but we reached the other side without incident. Back at our horses, i emptied water from my muddy boots and changed to dry socks. We then mounted our horses and continued on to the Catholic mission at Semonkong.