A walk up the valley

The hike from the Ruyteplaats Estate gate near Suikerbossie to Myburgh Ravine is always approached with trepidation - will it be hot, will there be mist? Heat is a problem on this trail which is mainly in the open, despite high bushes on either side of the path and very few trees that actually provide shade apart from in the ravines. The nek between Little Lion's Head and the end of the Twelve Apostles buttresses is the first place that gets the creeping fingers of fog that herald the approach of a cold front, and today we are expecting just that. Early this morning I could see the fog rolling around the koppie from across the bay in Kommetjie and wondered whether it would intensify and make for a damp walk, or dissipate in the morning sun. It was the latter, rather unfortunately, and after the initial steep climb up through the pine trees, we turned towards the right and had the wind at our backs and the sun on our faces.
After that, the trail levels out and is a pleasant walk, although many rocks protrude and a close eye has to be kept on boot placement - it is very easy to take a tumble into the undergrowth! This means that little time can be spent on admiring the spectacular view that pops up between gaps in the trees, but this also provides an excuse for a rest and a few pics. Regrettably, the insidious creep of human habitation has made a blot on the landscape of what was once a rural valley with large smallholdings and a pristine Disa River. The houses (immense and tiny alike) seem to be swallowing up the slopes like a fungus spreading its filaments wider and wider. But if you look beyond, to the peaks surrounding the valley and across the blue waters of the bay towards Kommetjie and Slangkop lighthouse jutting out in the distance, it is still possible to appreciate a great deal of still unspoiled beauty.
As we strode further into the head of the valley, no breeze could be felt and it became uncomfortably warm, but after a good 4km we reached the peaceful shade of Myburgh Ravine, although the stream has now dried up in midsummer and the tumbled rocks carried no tinkling waters. A toil up to the waterfall to view the beautiful Red Disa will have to be left till January/February, and hopefully the merest trickle of water will once again produce a rewarding display of the Pride of Table Mountain.
The return trip always seems to be quicker, rather like the gallop home of a plodding pony on an outride, and the sea breezes soon caressed us as we reached the final stretch - a descent in the shade of an old pine forest, the wind soughing in the branches as the cold front crept closer.