No Fixed Abode: Gorging at the table

Mon 6 June 2016 - Table Mountain hike

We awoke early intending to get an early start for our climb of Table Mountain but somehow we didn’t leave until just before 9:30. Guess we’re slipping back into retirement mode.

Anyway, searching for the trail head we crawled along the access road, past the cable car station, where there were crowds already queuing for the ride, and several small car parks, until we found an area with several groups of people in various states of readiness to start the hike. We joined them putting our boots on and, with the sun now shining brightly, undertook our customary discussion of what additional clothes to take with us - Yvonne as usual happy in the t-shirt she was wearing, Glenn wanting to be prepared in case the next ice age with hurricane gales and torrential rain arrives, then Yvonne duly complying too. Packs on our back we set off up the large rock steps that formed the start of the path and joined a collection of walkers neatly distributed across the mountainside. As anyone that has seen Table Mountain, either in real life or in a photo, will know it is steep, very steep, in fact its high rocky cliffs looks unassailable from a distance, however, the Platteklip Gorge forms a narrow, steep cleft in the sheer walls and our path zig zagged directly up it.

As we set off we passed a couple of Americans who, as Yvonne was later to discover, were father and son on holiday together - we leap frogged each other the whole way up in various states of delayering.

For the first hundred or so metres of ascent the path wound lazily across the vegetated slopes below the gorge proper and we made hot progress in the sunshine but as the huge rock walls began to enclose us we entered the gorge itself. From here the zig-zags became progressively tighter, the path steepened over boulders and we dipped in and out of cooling shade on one side. At this point we passed three 20 something ladies, all in tiny outfits of fluorescent lycra, one of whom was changing the nappy of a small baby on a handy rock. Once finished she strapped her to a front carrier, flapped a thin sunscreen over her head and carried on her way - apparently the fourth time her tiny daughter had made the climb.

Towards the top the gorge narrows until it is only 3 or 4 m across and for the last 100m rocky steps have been arranged into a neat staircase: an excellent way to surface onto the summit plateau of, what has been voted, one of the seven wonders of the natural world. The highest point, the summit proper, is a small mound, which was inevitably on the far side of the plateau but as we were both hungry we found a nice comfy boulder to eat our lunch. Yvonne had read about the fearless baboons that live up here and hassle tourists so she was twitching at every windblown leaf or call from the hordes of distant tourists who had ridden the cable car up. As we hadn’t seen a single baboon so far Glenn reasoned that they probably move lower down for the winter as it must get very cold up here at night, which seemed to do the trick and Yvonne became content to enjoy the magnificent views and the soothing chirrup of the frogs. We really could see for miles in almost every direction.

The network of paths that criss cross the plateau are well signed and we’d noted that the summit was 45 mins away, although it didn't look that far. However, although the plateau is level it certainly isn’t flat and the path bumped over uneven boulders and rocks and wound through shrubs and bog making it time consuming and heavy going. At the summit a fresh vista presented itself and we sat in admiration as two pairs of women met and noisily exchanged their life histories. The pair of youngsters had climbed up from the other side and were knackered. Although they had visited the national park website they had only brought water with them and were starving after their four hour ordeal. Fortunately a kind gentlemen on the way up had taken pity on them and given them some of his sandwiches. The other two were a mother and daughter on holiday from Liverpool visiting a relative and proceeded to recount in detail their entire stay so far plus their remaining plans. Amidst a building crescendo of mirth and mutual admiration we left them to it and sought the tranquility of the northern rim, which we had totally to ourselves.

This is the edge that is visible from the city and it offered us some wonderful views of the city, the bay and Robben Island, which looked like a pancake barely breaking the surface of the sea. A couple more metres of globally warmed sea level and it will be gone. Finding another comfortable rock we refuelled our bodies for the descent and watched a huge container ship slowly enter the dock and, with the help of three hard working tugs, manoeuvre itself alongside the quay, the whole operation taking some 30 mins.

At last we met the intersection of four paths and despite Yvonne’s hints to descend via the cable car we retraced our steps, literally, down the stone staircase and into the gorge. As the sun had moved round, the gorge was now in almost total shade, which made the descent cooler but no less arduous. The large stone steps and boulders played havoc with our aging knees and we were glad of our walking poles to take some of the strain. Although it was late in the afternoon we still passed others going up, many ill equipped and already looking tired. No wonder more people die on Table Mountain each year than do on Everest.

Once back at the car it was a short ride home to a lovely Clarens beer and a large chilli.