Lion's Head Hike

This past Monday evening we decided to take a sunset hike up to the top of Lion's Head Mountain for a picnic. It was initially a steep dirt pathway that carved sharply against the slopes of the hill. The smooth terrain soon transformed as the rocks crumbled into bluecheese-esque blobs. The trek got a little trickier as the path morphed into stair-like jags, but not hard enough for the two dogs that bounded past us with their tails wagging like locomotive flagellum. The propelled up their custom off-road pathway and made it look so easy. We made pit stops for the winded and cherished the hazingy stunning panorama of Table Mountain, Signal Hill and the waterfront dock. We climbed the last portion that required the use of steel handles and chains that were implanted into the stone, then arrived at the relatively flat top that was scattered with fellow picnickers. One crew was on their weekly\y hike/picnic triple date which, by observation, they had mastered. As we munched on our corner store snacks and subway sandwiches they indulged in shrimp skewers, white wine (don't forget the ice in the Tupperware darling!) and cheese & crackers. We all shared the same magical view of the endless Atlantic Ocean that looked like a sheet of rippled smooth leather. Sharp rocks protruded out of the coastal waves with currents swarming around them. Bree thought that one was actually a whale swimming in the water. Four boats were anchored between Robben Island and the dock, and they ignited with lights as the sun set. Cliffs hung parallel to the bustling city below Ro and Kenzie swung their feet against the wind that was starting to chill. Although it was rather cloudy, enhanced the tablecloth effect over Table Mountain and beautifully blurred the line between the sea and horizon. Once we realized the looming darkness, we scurried down the “recommended route” of the hill that brought us to one last sunset view which had enhanced into a crease of hot pink against the dark grey clouds. Turning on the flashlight made me think of my nights at camp arrowhead during the summer, so I started to sing camp songs. Ro and I, with the holidays constantly on our minds, managed to draw an outline of a Christmas tree made out of the lights of the city- one edge was carved out be the coastline and the other along signal hill. The roads between them created the swooped tinsel and the neon lights of stores formed the ornaments. The city shined with a stagnant, static flutter of lights that went for kilos and kilos.