Have you ever had a friend say, “If I ever get a chance to go (insert the name of some exotic locale exponentially out of your price range), do you want to go with me?” Once upon a time, I too, made those same grand promises to a friend. I agreed when she had the chance to visit her family in South Africa, I would go with her. Little did I know she would find a REALLY good deal on tickets just a few months later, and suddenly, I was in. Tickets paid for, going to all lengths to secure 17 days off work in a row, and saving every extra penny.
The one line item on our trip-to-do list I DIDN’T give as much thought to, was what we would actually DO once we arrived. I left the planning in the hands of my friend and her family, and the idea began to be thrown around that we should climb the iconic Table Mountain, overlooking Capetown. Mind you, I’ve been “hiking” as much as one can, having come from the Midwest (read: basically not at all), and I figured with a few “training hikes” for endurance, I’d be squared away. I was not in particularly good shape at this point in my life (and if I’m being completely honest, I’m still not in particularly good shape, but that’s a post for another day) but I figured through sheer determination and luck, I would manage.
The morning of the climb, we met the guide early, around 5am I think. (Maybe 6? It was early, forgive my memory) The climb was supposed to take 3-4 hours. Initially, I thought the first part of the climb would actually be the easiest, as it was more of a hike, than a climb. This entire trek was supposed to be doable by novice climbers, and required no equipment. Prior to my arrival that morning I was sure I was in the “novice” categoy, but seeing the mountain rising up so drastically from the city and the sea, I found myself wishing I’d advocated for something more along the pre-novice category.
The first portion of the climb, was literally just a freakin STAIRMASTER workout. Huge steps cut into the mountain, which got my heart rate way up, and I was by far the heaviest and most out of shape in the group. I also don’t think I had breakfast that morning. Luckily, I had packed a box of Special K bars and plenty of water. When we reached a place to take a break, I inhaled 4 of the Special K bars and downed some water, magically giving me strength to go on. 
During this break, the sun began to peak around the corner of the mammoth, and I felt my my first moment of sincere gratitude and appreciation at being on this adventure. The early morning fatigue, the physical exertion, and the fear I was feeling began to give way to a sense of contentment in knowing I was doing something that would be forever etched in my memory.
Of course, then the break was over and the beauty of the sunrise took a backseat to the push ahead of me..
As we were climbing the stair master, and the rocks became bathed in sunlight, we could see other hikers perched like mountain goats on the edge of this massive cliff. I took an infinitesimal amount of comfort in knowing we we had picked one of the “easier” routes, was thinking holy shit I’m so glad we didn’t pick THAT route (cue the foreboding music).
We finally reached the end of the aerobic bootcamp, and began to get into a rockier stretch. There were a few small scrambles, and since only one person at a time could go up these stretches, it allowed for a few short breaks to catch my breath, and I began to enjoy the experience a little more.
Continuing up the steeper section, I was incredibly surprised to start seeing a few people coming DOWN the mountain. Our guide greeted quite a few of them, and told us they were people who hiked the mountain a FEW TIMES A WEEK. In my mind I’m thinking “I’m over here struggling to make it up this monster just once in my life and these crazy people come back for more??”
We continued on, and reached what I thought would be the absolute end of my climbing career (and potentially my life). We came upon a stretch of climbing that had chains screwed into the side of this mountain. We’re talking very, very exposed open air beneath your wings. A few people went up before I did, and the guide who was wafer thin to my stout build, said she would help spot me. I’m thinking, like spot me 200 feet down in the rocks when I fall off the cliff? But alas, I grabbed the chain, held on for all I had, and pulled myself up.
As we rose yet higher, the terrain shallowed out into a number of switchbacks, and I began to have a small sliver of hope I might actually make it to the top. The only downside of getting higher on the mountain was the beautiful morning view began to disappear as we ascended into a mountain layer of clouds. Which also means I ended up SOAKING WET and out in the wind. So now exhausted, freezing, and lagging well behind the group, I trudged on.
Now lumbering through a thick, wet, windy fog, sticking exactly to the middle of the trail because I wasn’t sure how far down it was over the edge, I began to see a shape emerge. A few more turns and through the haze the most glorious sight of the morning came in to view at the top of the mountain: the coffee shop, and the tram that would take me back to the ground. 
Despite the incredible sense of accomplishment I felt in making it to the top of Table Mountain (in just under 4 hours, damn near a world record if I do say so myself), I was just as excited for the nap that awaited me as soon as I made it back to the house.
At the end of the day, I greatly enjoyed my trip to South Africa, and climbing Table Mountain was a great experience. While I provided insight into the apprehension I felt on my climb, the tour guide provied a safe route up the mountain for all in my group. If you are interested in visitng South Africa and would like to climb Table Moutain, check out hike_table_mountain on IG, they did an excellent job getting our group to the top.
