Climbing Table Mountain in South Africa

South Africa.   When most people from the States hear "Africa" they automatically think lions, tigers, elephants, savannah, safari, jungle, etc.  However, Cape Town, South Africa is quite different from all that.  Ok there are baboons.  But do not feed them!  I'm told that in the summer Cape Town is generally warm and dry.  Right now, in winter, it is anything but warm and dry.  Having spent a good deal of time in Scotland over the years I feel confident saying that Cape Town's weather feels closer to Scotland's.

Overshadowing Cape Town is the very impressive Table Mountain.  The upper part of the mountain where we climbed consists of quartizitic sandstone; it is very similar to the rock at Seneca Rocks and the Shawangunks.  I will only bore you with one excerpt from the wikipedia page that pretty much sums up this unique mountain:

"The mountain's vegetation types form part of the Cape Floral Region protected areas.  These protected areas are a World Heritage Site, and an estimated 2,200 species of plants are confide to Table Mountain - more than exist in the whole of the United Kingdom.  Many of these species, including a great many types of proteas, are endemic to the mountain and can be found nowhere else."

For more on Table Mountain, check out the Wikipedia page here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Table_Mountain

Back to the story....last week the weather cleared and was beautiful.  Blue skies and warm sunshine dominated the days. You could see Table Mountain with perfect clarity each day.  I got in touch with a local guide and set up a day of climbing for Saturday.  My fingers were crossed that the weather would hold.  Well, it sorta did.

Ross Suter was my guide (http://www.highadventure.co.za).  He came highly recommended from my friend Jim back home.  I was so excited Friday night that admittedly I didn't get as much sleep that night as I'd have liked.  Oh well.  Ross picked me up at my hotel at 7:45am and we were on our way.

We drove up to the lower Table Mountain Cableway station, parked and headed up the trail.  The morning was overcast and cool.  I was hopeful that maybe the clouds would lift a bit and we would have a spot of sunshine; that was wishful thinking and I pretty much knew it.

To get you oriented, the Cableway basically goes up over an area called India Ravine.  Our first climb was on the cliffs to the right side of India Ravine.  The rest of our day was spent linking up three separate routes to ascend all the way to the Upper Cableway Station.  The photo below should help.  Obviously I snagged this off the net and added my text...the weather was the exact opposite of that in the photo below.

The first climb was Bombay Duck.  This was a good route to assess my skills and to get familiar with belaying Ross on double ropes (half ropes).  I don't typically climb with doubles, but I do own a set now and would like to use them a bit more.  The route was a bit wet, especially in the crux areas.  Some well placed hand jams in a wet horizontal crack and some good footwork saw me through and got me warmed up.  We quickly rapped back down and headed on over to the main event...climbing to the top of Table Mountain.

Ross nearing the overhang to his right.

For this portion of the climbing both of us would need to carry our packs as we wouldn't be coming back this way.  The added weight always adds an interesting challenge to the climb as the pack typically throws your usual balance a bit off.  Undeterred by this, Ross started up Fader's Frontal.  At an overhang he had a bit of trouble as the rock was fairly wet in this crux section.  After a few false starts he pulled the moves and continued up.  When I reached this section I found myself stemming my right foot out with everything I had, praying it wouldn't slip off on the wet rock.  A few hand jams and crimps later had me up and through and then on my way to meet up with Ross.

Nearing the top I had just pulled out cam that Ross had placed when my foot slipped on a lichen-covered edge.  It surprised the heck out of me and somehow I dropped the cam.  Unbelievable and humbling.  Dropping gear is just not cool and I was rather upset with myself...even though I couldn't really figure out how it happened.  At least I was able to see just where it landed and Ross was able to retrieve it the next day.

Our last view of civilization for awhile.

The higher we climbed the further we progressed into a cloud.  Seriously.  It wasn't raining but there was so much moisture in the air that when the wind would blow, everything would have obvious condensation on it.  Gear, clothes, rock...it didn't matter.  Everything was wet.  Chalk for climbing? Pfff...put it away and forget about it.  As we moved on to the next climb I had to make sure I kept up with Ross for fear of losing my way in the mists as we bouldered up, over and around the jungle gym of blocks on the top of this buttress.

 
Somehow or other we made it up the middle pitches of Arrow Route.  After a quick time check we decided to hike up and around to a route called Jacob's Ladder.  At this point I honestly would've been fine with calling it a day and heading back.  Not that I didn't want to summit but I was just happy that I had been able to climb on Table Mountain in South Africa.  However, up until this point I'd been through much worse in Scotland.  We endured some pretty harsh conditions there at times (offset by many more beautiful days though) so I felt pretty well prepared for wet and cold....I wasn't anticipating the wind.

Luckily we would be rappelling back down off the route to about where we started.  That meant we didn't need to climb with our packs.  To start the route Ross climbed a short wall and then traversed about 20 meters or so the left along a really big ledge.  I followed up to the base of a big overhanging corner.  The mist here was so thick I had actually had a tough time seeing Ross once he was about 20 ft up the face.

Ross heading up the first, easy corner.

My view at the start of Jacob's Ladder...Misty Mountains indeed!

Ross on Pitch 1 of Jacob's Ladder heading up and around the corner.

As I followed the first pitch I was quite happy that I had figured out I could stuff my feet with my sock on into my climbing shoes.  Normally I don't wear socks but the cold and the wet forced me to try something new.  I sacrificed some sensitivity for warmth...it was a good choice.

I moved up the first section to below the main overhang and traversed left.  Up until this point the rock was "relatively" damp...not wet per se...damp.  Once I turned the corner and the wind started hitting me full blast the climb took on a whole new dimension.  The climbing in and of itself was brilliant.  The rock was clean and the moves were fun and challenging.  But it was wet and cold and the higher I climbed the more it seemed the wind was trying to knock me off the rock.  Finally, I could see Ross up and to the right and I figured my way to the belay.

This was a hanging belay like no other.  Steep face.  Small footholds to rest on.  Nothing but mist below me.  Nothing but mist behind me, above me and up the rest of the route.  I had no idea how far off the deck we were.  It could've been 50 or 500 ft.  Interesting that I found not knowing a bit more difficult to deal with.  Of course the gusting wind might've had something to do with that.

Everybody look right!

Everybody look left!

As Ross traversed out right to start the final pitch I just focused on feeding out rope.  Once he was out of my sight I would feel better the faster the rope went out went from me.  The wind would blow and I would huddle in closer to myself, ducking my nose inside the brim of my jacket to keep a bit warmer.  I adjusted my stance a few times just to get blood flowing back into my legs.  Finally, I hear a bellowing voice on the wind, "OFF BELAY!!!"  Or at least I was pretty sure that's what I heard.  Obviously there were no other idiots up here climbing so it really only could be Ross.  I quickly took him off belay, yelled up to him and got ready to climb.

As I traversed to the right I used a bit of chalk to try to dry my hands.  Obviously I had forgotten how useless an effort this would be.  I was reminded to close up the chalk bag when my right hand reached out for next hold and hit a nice puddle.  Continuing up and out, the wind continued to howl and again nearly blew me off the rock.  The pitch was steep but the holds were positive.  I moved up through lots of nice horizontals until I reached a rather blank section.  I was cold, my hands were numb and the wind at this point was no longer "gusting", it was just relentless.  I quickly realized that pausing to think through moves was not going to work.  I had to simply climb on instinct and trust the flow of my intuition.  To my pleasant surprise, this worked quite well.  And as I pulled up the final bit I saw Ross with a big smile on his face.  With his big, bushy beard and imposing figure he looked like some crazy Norse god of the mountain or something.  We high-fived and shook hands.  A short scramble more and were at the top, right where tourists would normally disembark from the cable cars.

Ross at the top of the last pitch.

At the upper cableway station.

We snapped a few quick photos and then headed off to start the descent.  The first rappel was short and I went down first, the wind whipping the slack rope below me far off to my right.  The second rappel was a double-rope and under normal circumstances would've been fantastic.  After maybe 15 ft of descent I dropped past an overhang and descended a long section of free-hanging space.  The wet ropes were squeegeed through my belay device creating a nice fountain of water in my lap.  Lovely.

After hitting the ground we packed up, threw the headlamps on and started the long walk-off that took us at least an hour.  Cold, wet and tired we trudged on with good conversation about climbing ethics, new routing, and how to continue the spirit of this kind of climbing to new trad climbers.  Nearing the lower cableway station we finally emerged from the cloud and could see the city lit up below us.

Cape Town

On the journey back we both remarked that it was amazing how different everything was down in town.  It was warm and dry.  Everyone had surely gone about their day and would just have no idea of the things that transpired for us on the mountain.  That's the beauty of an experience like that.  Most people would not have gone out that day.  I certainly won't always climb on those "iffy" kind of days.   But when I do, I know it'll always be something incredibly unique.  This was a day that will make me cherish the warm, sunny and dry days on the rock.  Yet at the same time, it challenged us both in unique ways and we will never forget it.   Above all else, I will always remember that I was still smiling when we reached the top.

Ross and me back in Cape Town...a world apart from Table Mountain.