Circumnavigating Trappies Kop

Despite having grown up on the slopes of Trappies Kop in Clovelly (so named because of the steps (trappies) that had to be negotiated at the northern end of the beach before a road was made to access the sands of the Fish Hoek valley long, long ago), I have never explored this little mountain  except for the area behind our house. I went up with our hiking group about a year ago to the beacon and it was a marvellous hike with sweeping views in all directions. Yesterday we set off to circumnavigate the 'globe' by taking the track along the firebreak from the wetlands around to Kalk Bay. 

Apart from a few rocky scrambles, this is a very easy walk along a narrow sandy trail, falling steeply away towards the road side, and obstructed by thick vegetation on the mountain side. Being winter, most of the walk was undertaken in deep shade until we reached the sunlit slopes above Kalk Bay, but being yet another stunning sunny winter's day, we appreciated the shade and light southeasterly breeze. With an unobstructed view of the bay from Fish Hoek to Simon's Town and across to Hangklip, it was the perfect opportunity for whale watching. These wonderful creatures have been a part of our community for as long as I remember, and the first whales arrived a few days ago. The southeaster made the sea choppy, with an uninviting shade of grey, but we were lucky enough to see one gigantic splash before the whale settled into a period of wallowing!

There was quite a bit of activity further out in False Bay, with the SA Navy deploying a ship or two (fish for lunch?) and a steady stream of Kalk Bay fishing boats chugging back to harbour in a picturesque scene worthy of a postcard. 

When we eventually arrived at the point where the track meets the road at Boyes Drive, it was decided to hike back to the cars via the saddle between Trappies Kop and Clovelly Mountain. This involved a good 15 minute slog through a somewhat overgrown path and then luckily a beautifully laid stone path taking us easily over the top and down into Clovelly for the remaining half hour or so.

Not many flowers out yet in this shady area, but a good patch of pretty podalyria above Kalk Bay and the odd moraea provided some colour. The total distance back to the cars was close to 7km and we took almost 4 hours to complete this moderate trail, although we did dawdle at times. Well worth it and will do it again at a different season.

Chapman's Peak on a gorgeous day

Wow! What a walk. I had forgotten how steep and long the trail from Chapman's Peak Drive up to Chapman's Peak is. We couldn't have had a better day for such an arduous trek - midwinter, blue skies, no wind - paradise found. This is a two-stick trail, both up and down, as the rocky terrain and slippery stones after substantial rains and deep shade in the ravine made us extra cautious. The downhill is always worse and two steadying sticks are invaluable no matter what your age - much kinder on the knees and no falling into the bushes on either side of the path!

It took a steady climb of two hours to reach the saddle, and the views made every step worth the effort. Breathtaking in every sense of the word. Three of the group carried on the extra 20 minutes to reach the summit of Chapman's Peak while the rest of us lounged in the sunshine among the fynbos and waved encouragement. Perhaps another time.

Once again we were treated to the sight of gushing streams all along the way - I hear the streams on the Newlands side are currently impassable. Good news indeed.

There was so much to see in the way of flowers that I had plenty of opportunity to stop frequently to take photos, and this may well have contributed to the ease with which I did the trail - fitness levels are high, but stamina is still a problem - four hours is pushing it. Tomorrow I think I may feel a twinge or two to remind me of today's fabulous time in the mountains. Highly recommended for anyone who is reasonably fit.

Protea nitida (waboom)

Fish Hoek valley

Moederkappie (orchid family) - an exciting sighting and saw quite a few

Babiana - love these

A repository for memories

Certain members of this family are obsessed with repacking, reorganising, rearranging, clearing out and decluttering. I can't say it's a bad thing, but I get dragged along to make the final decisions - usually when I am about to take a Sunday afternoon snooze. We opened the drawers and doors for the umpteenth time today, to once again decide what to do with 40 years of accumulation of stuff. What do you do with the VHS tapes ( F1 Last Race 1995, Senna Tribute, Austin Powers, Ducktales, Superbikes 1997) - about 40 of those, none seen for a few decades. Two shoeboxes of music tapes, all pirated at the time - I listened to some and they are still perfect to play in the LP/CD/Radio/Tape player/recorder I bought at Christmas, so perhaps a few will survive the throw-out. Tiny tapes from the Sony Camcorder, which cost R7 000 many years ago and was almost instantly replaced by cell phones.
New devices are being launched continually, and what we have this year may not be used next year. It seems that we are in an uncontrollable spiralling of throwaway consumerism with treasured memories stored on obsolete technology consigned to landfill. There must be mountains of old tapes all over the world, closely followed by computer towers, screens, laptops, video game consoles, cell phones and SIM cards!
Perhaps we can melt them all into big lumps and send them off into space on a mission to see how far they go? I don't think there are any particularly sensible options currently being offered.
I've kept the board games. Somehow the physical interaction seems so much more attractive than a screen version and if the lights go out (worldwide - not an impossibility), entertainment would still exist at a 60s and 70s level.
It may be that the best storage for memories is in our hearts and minds. Once we are gone, there is nobody who will need our memories - they will have their own.

Silvermine in sunshine

There can be few so privileged as to have the time and opportunity to wander in the mountains of the Peninsula on a windless, sunshiny winter's day - and that is what we were today. The Silvermine Nature Reserve provides many walking trails to suit all levels of fitness and enthusiasm, and today we were both fit and enthusiastic as we set off in the chilly shade of the Steenberg Peak with the promise of sunshine on the other side of the valley.
The Silvermine river is in spate after the good rains of this week, and I haven't seen it flowing so strongly in the two years I have been walking. We were unable to cross at the waterfall and had to retrace our steps to the jeep track, fortunately giving us the only bit of uphill to get the heart rate up on an otherwise very gentle downhill trail. It was just wonderful to be accompanied by the sound of tumbling waterfalls and rushing streams all the way, something that has been a long time coming.
The bright tips of the leucadendrons brought sunshine to even the shadiest slopes, with the white metalasia providing a dotty backdrop to the silvery grey foliage. The occasional protea lepidocarpodendron popped its bearded head out from the dense vegetation, and a pristine pale pink protea repens gave a splendid show despite the requisite sugarbird being nowhere in sight.
We stopped for coffee at the ruins of the old powder store used back in the day when silver was being sought in these hills - all that remains are a few walls, three huge and long dead pine trees (victims of numerous wildfires) and a dangerous network of tunnels and sinkholes on the other side of the river. But the name persists.

A fynbos ramble

It wasn't too long ago that I would have been hard pressed to walk any distance at all, and now I find that not hiking for a week due to wintry weather gives me cabin fever! And so I took the opportunity yesterday of joining another walking group on a ramble through the fynbos at Cape Point, not for exercise, but to observe and photograph the interesting flowers along the way. We took the track from the circular drive across the plateau to the road connecting Olifantsbos and I would highly recommend it to anyone wanting to stroll through the reserve with absolutely no effort whatsoever. It is a gentle meander of nearly 5km, to be taken at whatever pace you wish.
The weather soon cleared from a gloomy cloud cover to clear blue skies moving in behind the rains we had overnight (just as all rain should be - overnight) and although there was a headwind, it was gentle enough to be almost unnoticeable.
This is the quiet time of year for fynbos and so our expectations were not high, but still we found more than 50 different flowers - most of them only millimetres across and requiring the services of a good camera, a steady hand and a lull in the wind to capture to any satisfaction! As many flowers are on the end of an extremely thin stalk, it was no easy feat and I had to admit defeat in a few instances!A closer look at the photos on a computer will often reveal undetected wildlife, such as ants and spiders and assorted beetles, and if it weren't for this facility, most of life's interesting moments would pass us by. There is a tremendous amount of industrious activity going on down there in the fynbos!

Way back when

A little gentle rain with a return to winter has breathed new life into the garden. This is the rain of my childhood; soft, soaking and accompanied by a light breeze. I recall many walks in the winter school holidays from home in Clovelly to the soccer field in Fish Hoek in  rain that didn't bother us - or perhaps it was the destination that took our minds off it. This was where  all the talent was, whether it played soccer or not. In summer it was the lawns at the beach and winter the soccer club. Of course, it was only eye candy, as we were still a few years behind the girls who occupied their minds! But such are the teenage years and it was all good fun.
The soccer field was also the destination of the floats of the annual Mardi Gras -  the biggest event in Fish Hoek for many years under the capable guidance of the inimitable Lynette Barling, with drum majorettes in blue and white silk and white boots always in perfect time and very easy on the eye, a Scottish marching band in their splendid kilts and of course the ching-ching of the tins as they were held out for coins to the crowds lining the streets (it was after all a charitable event) and the music which blared out from megaphones. At the field, the best float would be chosen and participants would relax and party as only the Fish Hoek crowd could, in preparation for the Mardi Gras that night at the Civic Centre.
Those halcyon days are gone and can never be regained. The soccer field has long been the home of Fish Hoek High School and Mrs Barling's larger than life personality has never been replicated. But a little gentle rain can still jog the memory.

Before the dawn

I'm outside on the deck, the planks sodden from another 20mm of gentle, soaking rain over the last 24 hours, the sun is still far below the eastern horizon and the twittering of birds calling for the dawn is astounding. They are obviously relishing the availability of fresh raindrops hanging from every leaf, waiting for their eagerly gaping beaks to sip. A fluffing of feathers helps to wash the dust off and rejuvenate their finery for another day.
The Cape Robin-chat is the most vociferous of all in the hour before dawn, and their ebullience is infectious. In close competition is the Southern Double-collared Sunbird, irrepressibly cheerful at any time of the day, and making a good substitute for an alarm clock if close enough to the window.
The thundering of the sea as the waves surge into the bay slightly mutes the calls of the seabirds, but their numbers provide quite a chorus of shrill cries as they stir for a day's foraging on the rocks and out on the ocean waves
The skies are lightening over the cloud cover, the remnants of the cold front wisping away for a while before the next one arrives, and before we know it, the winter days will become longer and we will be welcoming spring. So enjoy the freshness and wetness, particularly before the dawn - best part of the day!