Cape Town - There is something about elevation, about being physically above things, that provides a refreshing change of perspective compared to the view of those whom one of my climbing buddies refers to as “flatlanders”, a mildly derogatory term for people who never climb anything. Things look different from up on high, and I suppose it is that curiosity that has most of us peering out of plane windows trying to recognise roads and natural features that seem completely out of kilter to our own mental image of their layouts.
Not only do you get an entirely different picture of things from an elevated view, but equally a new mental perspective. What might appear to be overwhelmingly significant from the ground becomes lost in the expanse of the world seen from above. It is one of the reasons I love to hike up mountains; the walk provides much-needed exercise and the view allows for a re-evaluation of the way things really are, a readjustment of your psyche which frequently involves coming to terms with how remarkably insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things.
So I recently decided it was time to brush off the cobwebs of an overly sedentary winter and burn a few calories clambering up one of nature’s more impressive stepping machines, the path from Noordhoek Beach to the top of Chapman’s Peak – a genuine 600-odd metres of uphill slog, that had my thighs burning and my lungs straining. The obvious advantage compared to a workout in a gym, however, is that the route offers some of the most spectacular views of the Atlantic coastline, which, for me at least, takes some of the focus off the physical discomfort of the workout.
It was a glorious day, if a bit windy, but then it is summer in the Cape and that south-easterly breeze is nearly always present. It proved something of a bonus, providing welcome cooling to my overtaxed muscles as despite at times threatening to tip me off the path.
This is a favourite hike. It is steep to be sure, but the path meanders along the ridgeline, providing superb vistas over Noordhoek to the south and Hout Bay to the north, the snaking route offering up constantly changing panoramas. If the physical effort doesn’t take your breath away the scenery certainly will.
The sea was an impossibly clear blue, appearing near tropical from up on high, but I knew that the reality of such clear upwelling of the ocean currents meant that the surfers playing in the crystal barrels of The Hoek were constantly on the verge of hypothermia. When the water is that colour the temperature roughly approximates that of an industrial freezer.
Out on the beach someone had been practicing their dressage, carving a figure eight in the sand that would be all but invisible without the benefit of elevation. From on high I could see that the loops were ever so slightly uneven. My old woodwork teacher would have been less than impressed with the lack of symmetry, but then again, he was drawing his lines with a 2B pencil and I am sure perfection is a lot more difficult to achieve with a horse.
From up here the houses and shopping malls appear like children’s playthings and it all looks rather peaceful when you are removed from the hustle and bustle of urban activity. At this elevation the flatness of the valley floor make it appear as though the entire landscape would be easily swamped by one significant wave. It had me thinking that if I lived in that valley I would be trading in the car for a boat at the first mention of global warming.
Around another bend in the path and the most spectacular vision of Hout Bay comes into view, the foaming wakes of the tourist boats heading out to Seal Island temporarily scarring the clear waters underneath the towering massif of The Sentinel. The scene was enhanced by the perspective that leaves the scar that is Chapman’s Peak Drive hidden from view.
So eventually, after more than an hour’s toil, I reached the apex of the climb. There is always a sense of victory in reaching the top of a hike. I don’t suppose it equates to standing on Mount Everest, but it is a minor victory all the same and provides some sense of accomplishment. After a few moments to admire the view and bathe in an entirely unreasonable glow of self-satisfaction it was time to head back down.
The first serious work of the summer season was done and dusted. The hike is strenuous but not overly so and the scenery easily makes up for any discomfort. The path, well-worn and simple to follow, is an ideal venue for those wishing to get a bit of exercise in nature’s gym without undue risk.
Sunday Argus