Saturday, January 08, 2005
Day 6 Table Mountain
8 January 2005
The predicted rain never came and the swift Cape winds were absent. In the shadow of Table Mountain we disembarked our chariots (a.k.a. the VW Minibuses and Toyota Tazz) and stood, but for a moment, humbled at the task that lay before us. There were hushed whispers of what strange wonders might await; Rumors of wild baboons, treacherous chasms, and storms of wind and rain to make even the most stout of heart quiver with despair could be heard floating amongst our intrepid fellowship, as we tightened our laces and secured our packs. Ah, but on that morning, with the cape winds but a light breeze against our sunburned necks, our confidence soured, and we felt strong enough to overcome anything. And so it was that we began our ascent.
It wasn't long before our company entered skeleton gorge. Harsh and unforgiving, the gorge endeavored to hinder our progress which each turn. By an arsenal of goliath boulders, vertical walls of stone, and inclines to challenge the nimblest of fauna, we were assaulted. But through shear determination driven by the promise of the untold beauty and wonder of the majestic vistas that awaited we persevered. And so we climbed. Laboring under a canopy of green, we climbed, overcoming boulders with grace, stone walls with ladders, and the steep table mountain inclines with shear will power; We climbed.
Breaking free from the clutches of the gorge we bid farewell also to the trees witch had protected us from the sun. The wind blew cooler now, for we had ascended several hundred feet. But the coolness only invigorated us and the lessening of the incline gave hope for lesser challenges and greater rewards. Indeed, glimpses of the city below us had already gladdened our hearts, and more impressive vistas awaited. We climbed
Crossing a stream we beheld the rear Red Disa, a brilliant orchid found in few places on earth. Not long afterwards, our company crested the final ridge and found ourselves on the top of Table Mountain. Kings and Queens we were, on the top of the world, crowned with the very clouds themselves. In joyful exuberance while feasting upon lunches of PB&J one of our company suggested we declare our victory with a ceremonial casting away of food off the edge of the cliffs around us. Equipped with only half an Oreo he would have done it, had it not been for the less than enthusiastic support of some. However, not completely without allies, a stick was cast from the mountain; We rejoiced and then journeyed on.
We trekked across the top of the mountain, across fields populated only by the most rugged of plants, able to endure the high winds of the mountain, and century old stones that have stood the test of time. With the Indian Ocean to the east, and the Atlantic to the west, the whole southern cape was ours for the viewing, and we feasted upon the sight.
Our decent was brisk. The cable car that was our steed sped us down the slopes, mocking our efforts of the morning. In no more than three and one half minutes we had descended from top to bottom, from dizzying heights back to the mountain foot. Having accomplished that which we were most proud to do, we returned to the sanctuary of our surrogate collage, to rest our weary bodies, and anticipate with eager delight the adventures yet to come.
~Matt Ooms