Even the locals are impressed I hiked Table Mountain yesterday.

It wasn’t one of my brightest moments, but I went with a bunch of guys who climb the mountain at least once a week. On their off days, they climb Lion’s Head, which is not as tall, and supposedly not as steep. But I was out of breath just walking on the paved road alongside the base of the mountain before we even reached he trail. Not to mention, I was carrying bread, brie, grapes, wine, and mixed nuts on my back. Well, the guys carried the wine and some food, but the point is that I was weighed down. And these dudes were practically sprinting up the trail.

I lagged further and further behind the group, although one person took pity on me so I wasn’t alone. I was dripping with and glazed in sweat. My eyes were deliriously red. All I could do was put one foot in front of the other. Sometimes, I had to pull one burning leg in front of the other with my hands. It was like walking up a steep staircase for two hours – and over 2 miles – except these stairs were made of rocks of varying heights and sizes that were uneven and cracked.

Some of the same people passed me on their way up and down the mountain. Despite their words of encouragement – “It will be worth it when you get to the top” – I wasn’t buying it. All the views of Cape Town are spectacular, and I already had an eyeful. I was partial for the view by the car.

When I actually make it to the top – a plateau with steep cliffs that overlooks the city on one side and Table Bay and the Atlantic Ocean on the other – the sun had set and a bell rang signaling that the last cable car down the mountain was leaving in a half-hour. Most of the food and wine was gone. There was nothing to do but buy a ticket and go home.

However, those strangers were right: looking down on Cape Town from Table Mountain is probably the best view I’ve seen yet. And I want to hike it again.

But the experience was a wake-up call. I need to holler at a gym. Quick.

On the way up:

 

 

The climb:

 

 

The view: