Every runner who crosses the line at the Otter TERREX Trail, presented by EasyEquities, remembers the climbs, the river crossings, the ache in their legs by kilometre thirty, and the delicious meal waiting for them at the finish line. Fewer remember who fed them. Long before the start gun and long after the last finisher stumbles in, there’s a kitchen working quietly behind the scenes, making sure nobody, staff or athlete, goes hungry. At the heart of that kitchen are Portia Moyo and Thandi Moyo, two women whose names won’t appear on any results sheet, but whose care is a big part of what makes Race Week feel the way it does.
Seventeen Years in the Kitchen
Portia has been part of the Otter’s catering crew since 2009, the same year the race itself was still finding its feet. “It has grown, very much so, from the beginning,” she says. “It was quite small when we began, and I must say I wasn’t even sure what was happening or where we were going with it. But from then until now, it has grown, it’s so big now, so popular.” She remembers the disbelief on people’s faces when she told them what she did for a living. “They’d say, ‘What? What is that? Where is that happening?'”
Nearly two decades on, Portia is in the kitchen full-time, a role she built up to gradually, starting with four days in the kitchen and helping with registration on Tuesdays and Fridays before moving into it completely.
Portia isn’t the only one in her family who found a home on this crew. Thandi Moyo, based in Knysna, is Portia’s sister, and has built her own years-long career in the Otter’s catering team alongside her. It’s one more reason this kitchen runs the way it does: for these two, family and crew have never really been separate things.
The Long Nights
Ask either woman what a typical race week looks like, and the answer really has two shapes to it, not one. “We prepare on Friday night, salads and stuff,” Thandi explains, “and then we set up a buffet under the tent.” That kind of prep happens twice over, once building toward the Challenge on Thursday, and again building toward the Race on Saturday, each with its own wave of hungry athletes coming through. A good thing the tent’s there too, since the weather has a habit of turning on them. Rain or not, the food is ready, and the crew doesn’t miss a beat.
For Portia, it adds up to a demanding week by any measure: long nights, early mornings, and hundreds of plates across both event days. “Usually Wednesdays are quite slow, but Saturdays are our biggest, busiest days,” she says. Even so, ask her how it feels in the thick of it, and she doesn’t hesitate: “it’s always fun.”
More Than a Job
Talk to Portia and Thandi for long enough, and the conversation always drifts past logistics and into something more personal. For Thandi, it’s the people. “You get to meet different people from all over the world. It brings all nations together.” For the wider Tsitsikamma region, she adds, the race means more than atmosphere. “It brings job opportunities, and in terms of tourism, it also contributes a lot.”
For Portia, the meaning runs deeper still. Asked how she’d describe the Otter community, she pauses before answering. “Looking at it, it gives me the courage to face life head-on. Because I believe the sky is the limit, and I know that if you want to do something in life, you have to put your whole mind and your whole body onto it.” She’s watched athletes come back year after year, chasing something she recognises in herself. “It shows it’s something they love, wholeheartedly. To me, the Otter tells me I know where I want to be in future. Seeing other people doing this gives me the courage to keep fighting towards my dreams and my goals.”
Thandi and Portia have both never run the Otter themselves, and both say so almost apologetically, as if it needs excusing. It doesn’t. Their race happens on Friday night, over hot stoves and under a tent built to outlast the rain, so that by the time anyone else laces up their shoes, the hardest part of their work is already done. “It’s like one big family together,” Thandi says of the crew she’s part of. “Everyone is kind, everyone is willing to help wherever it’s needed.” Portia puts it simply: “It’s not like work. It’s like a family thing.”
Behind every finish line photo, every post-race meal, every athlete who made it through the weekend fed and cared for, there are hands like Portia’s and Thandi’s. They don’t run the trail. They make sure everyone who does can.
