The Mountain Road
Thursday morning, Ingrid and I set out to explore the spectacular mountain road into the Cederberg. This gravel road is an experience to say the least! (Lenore you will remember it.)
The road is extremely narrow and the recent rains have left it rutted and corrugated, although Ingrid said it was in not too bad shape comparatively speaking. There are sheer drop offs which allow no margin for error and a mistake would take you plummeting to certain death. The upside, however, is spectacular vistas. Mountainous peaks tower above you while cradling lush valleys nestled secretly away in their midst.
Travelling along through Uitkykpas (“Outlook Pass” or “Lookout Pass”) revealed glistening rocks, shining with water trickling over them from the higher altitudes. A mountain spring nested away at the side of the road provides a natural, pure water source for those inclined to stop. Wild flowers are resplendent, folding out carpets of vibrant colour in the brilliant sunshine, secret treasures that explode in a narrow window of opportunity in this forbidding landscape.
Everywhere there is evidence of the bushfire which swept through this pass several years ago. Blackened rock and boulders cracked by the intense heat lie strewn around. Charred and broken remnants of stands of the rare variety of Ceder trees for which this mountain range was named remind one again of what a formidable envionment this is. To merely exist is an accomplishment in it’s own right. Fire is deeply respected here. Any point of ignition would send fire cascading across the extremely combustible landscape, the mantle of dried grasses and shrubs providing easy fodder for it’s all-consuming appetite. Still, as with all things in nature, fire serves it’s purpose and the scar is rich with the rebirth and promise that follows such devastation.
My experience with mountains is always that they remind me of what insignificant beings we really are. We like to believe that we are in control; that somehow we are masters of our own destiny. For me, the sheer magnitude of mountains reduces me to my rightful place as just a blip on the landscape. While I don’t believe there is anywhere on earth that this is more evident than the majestic Canadian Rocky Mountains which tower in comparison to these mountains, even here in the Cederberg one is humbled at the sheer power and endurance of these bastions against time. What things they have seen through the centuries as they stand as silent sentinels.
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Morag