“When are we going to climb it?” The words leave my mouth before my brain processes what I said.
“You are really serious?”
I’m in the back of a taxi before I know what is happening being dropped off at the bottom of the trailhead leading up Table Mountain. What was I thinking? This is a mountain. It’s in the freaking name of this heap of rocks and I some how thought I could climb it. Who do I think I am? Super Sam?
One step. Two steps. Three steps. Push forward. Keep going. Legs arch. Move forward. Back soar. Push on. Lungs so tight . Breath. Why are their birds circling? Wait, are those things vultures? That’s it. I’m going to die here. I turn around to sit and for the first time notice the view. Below me Cape Town sprawls out. Just hours ago I was down there looking up oblivious to what was happening on the mountain. Now I’m here, looking down, certain of death.Only 1/3rd of the way to go. Death is looking better. I’ve always wanted a sky burial.