View from the Top
An unexpected journey to climb Table Mountain
The outdoors are wonderful and I love exploring in nature, but it’s no secret that I am a large, overweight woman, so strenuous hikes are not exactly my forte. I’m happy to spend several hours hiking, but I prefer my hikes to be somewhat level, where I have plenty of time to take in the scenery, and where my pace can be fairly leisurely.
With all that in mind, I had never imagined I would choose to hike a mountain!
On a trip to South Africa, I was going to explore Table Mountain and do a creative writing prompt from the top of the mountain.
The day of my scheduled excursion to the top of Table Mountain via cable car, the wind was extreme. So, the cable cars couldn’t run. We were offered a choice: end your excursion early, OR join the guided hike to the top.
Just recovering from a massive bronchial infection and being severely overweight, there was only one obvious choice for me: climb the mountain.
Obviously.
I may not have been prepared for a long climb, but I didn’t come to the other side of the world just to be stopped by a little wind.
So, we started up the wide, sloping, well-maintained path. No problems for me — yet. At the base of the mountain (wait…that path wasn’t even the start of the hike yet?!) the guides gave us another opportunity to go back.
I had a choice to make again: go back and have a nice day in Cape Town, OR continue up the mountain with the group and the guides and (hopefully) do something I have never done before.
I chose to push on.
From there, the nice large path became smaller and steeper and more overgrown. As we climbed, I fell to the back of the group. But I kept going.
One guide waited for me near the first set of wooden ladders — he again offered to take me back. I puffed my inhaler and kept going. Hand over hand I climbed straight up the ladders leaned against the sheer mountain face.
The guide who waited for me was so impressed that I wanted to keep going. He promised to stay with me so I didn’t get left behind.
As he waited for me to slowly climb my way over boulders and through narrow paths, he shared stories of growing up under the Apartheid and seeing so much progress happen even in his life time.
Although silently catching my breath, my thoughts were reeling from the stories he shared, the perspective and changes he had seen, as well as from my temporary insanity when I agreed to climb this mountain. He told me about the geography of South Africa and the place where you can see the actual striations of where the tectonic plates have shoved the earth’s crust up. He shared his knowledge of the incredible flora we were passing and gave me big smiles to encourage me as I moved my heavy body up the arduous trail.
Nearing the top, we reached the most difficult part of the hike — scaling a dry waterfall.
I was dumbstruck staring at it.
I had no idea if I had the strength to pull myself up those giant vertically stacked boulders using only the knotted ropes hanging down them.
I wrestled again with the idea of giving up and going back. I knew if I could come up this far, I could probably make it back down the same way. But I was so close!
Gathering every ounce of strength I had, I grabbed the rope and I started to climb that dry waterfall. My feet slipped, but I didn’t fall. I was so close to the top of the mountain — I couldn’t stop now.
With some rope burns on my hands, I made it!
Only 20(ish) minutes of an “easier” climb to the top of the mountain. That so-called “easier” part of the trail led us to a felled tree which served as the bridge over a swift-moving river below. Everyone else crossed it with ease — I worried it wouldn’t take my weight. Luckily, it held.
As we crested the top of the mountain and the incredible panoramic view of South Africa’s coastline unfolded before us, I swelled with pride. After four hours of nearly vertical climb, I made it.
I just climbed a mountain!
I could have stopped. I could have turned back several times.
At every opportunity to turn back my body was screaming to stop. My lungs were burning, my muscles ached, my feet hurt, and my shoulders were tired of carry my pack. But, I made the decision to push on.
And I am so glad I did.
No matter what else I do, I can now say that I’ve climbed a mountain. And I will carry that immense pride in myself forever.
I’m not sure if it is because of the difficulty of that climb, but the view from the top of Table Mountain was one of the most spectacular views I have ever seen.
Standing at the precipice, I also had learned a few other things about myself on my climb. I realized that I really can do whatever I set my mind to. I am persistent. I am strong. And I am capable even when I feel weak or have my doubts.
As proud as I was — and still am — of climbing that mountain, the moment was short lived. Although I had made it to the top, I also had to make it back down.
The journey down
Our guides led us to the aptly named “Skeleton Gorge” path to take us down the mountain. The trail was easier to follow, but consisted of either stairs or nearly vertical incline with sheer drop-offs almost the entire way down. After an hour of continuous stairs, my knees were buckling and I was falling behind again.
I leaned against the mountain and breathed deeply trying to recover enough to keep going. I put my head down and kept putting one foot in front of the other, making my way down the steep trail.
My calves started cramping and my lungs were still wheezing, but I kept going. The sun dipped behind an evening bank of clouds and the air started to become chilly, and still I kept going.
Finally as dusk was settling in, we made it down to the end of the path in the Kirstenbosh Gardens.
Seven and a half hours of almost continuous hiking — and I made it!
From the bottom of the mountain I look up at where I had just climbed to — it looked so high up there.
And I made it.
If I can make it over boulders, up a waterfall, to the top of a mountain, and back down Skeleton Gorge, I know I can do whatever I set my mind to. And I will.
Years later whenever I’m scared to try something new or afraid of failing, I remind myself that I climbed a mountain with no experience, completely out of shape, and with a recent lung infection — whatever this is has nothing on that. It reminds me: you can do this! No matter how hard the climb may be.
Besides, it really is true that the best views do come after the toughest climbs.
Leana’s an avid world traveler who has been to over 40 countries and will be venturing to her 7th continent in 2022. She believes in ubuntu and that adventures make life worth living. To follow her journey as a plus-sized woman with unquenchable wanderlust as she continues to seek out all that the world has to offer, you can check out The Overweight Adventurer.
