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Editorial
The solitude of our mountains
I often used to escape into the hills to find solitude. To sit quietly on an outcrop and look at the majestic unfolding vistas. To listen to the resonance: birds singing, insects chirping, the music of the wind blowing between the crags and the distant sound of the traffic filtering up from the humdrum of the city, which looks so far away, practically in another world.
To experience the ever-changing moods of the mountains: early morning light, dense cloud descending suddenly around one, brought on by a determined Southeaster, watching the fronds of the edges of the ‘Tablecloth’, thick at first then dissipating in long ghostly tendrils, as the pillows of whiteness lose altitude. The last rays of the setting sun reaching across the cold Atlantic, painting the Apostles buttresses a myriad of hues from orange to gold to pink, and then all of a sudden, a light grey as the sun drops below the horizon, swiftly covering the mountain in a cloak of darkness.
I also remember exploring rivers and kloofs in the higher mountains with friends. Out for the day or sometimes several days, just us, nobody else in sight, the whole mountain to ourselves. The sound of the rushing waters as they form rapids over submerged rocks, and the languid feeling, as you wash up on a small river beach, at the end of the day.
The mountains and rivers were sacred places where one would go to find yourself. To recharge and enrich the soul. A place of serenity and beauty, which was held with great respect. A place that you left cleaner than you found it.
Then one day a pandemic swept across the world and somewhere during the first year of this ‘apocalypse’, people, millions and millions of people, decided that they had to get out into nature. It was a bit of a phenomenon. When the mountains and national parks around the world opened again, once legislation allowed it, masses of humans descended upon the fragile eco systems of our hills, valleys and rivers. Many of them for the first time in their life. There were people-jams on trails, some walking with music blaring out of blue tooth speakers, once quiet kloofs became places for parties, and litter soon became a huge problem. Hundreds of cars crammed into parking areas and along the roadside of once peaceful residential neighbourhoods. Almost overnight, our mountains were turned into circuses: locals and tourists alike, like ants, crawling everywhere.
Some say that it is a good thing that so many people found nature, others stand aghast at the damage that is being done and the ambience that once was is now gone forever.
Call it whatever you want, but one thing is for sure, the peace and solitude that the mountains once brought to us has been severely compromised and it is only going to decay further.
Fortunately for some, there will always be a secret nook or an undisclosed ledge or overhang, where you can sit in peace, dangle your feet over the edge and reminisce about our beautiful and tranquil mountains of yesteryear.
Be safe in the hills
Tony
Features
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by Riaan Vorster
Platinum Wall – El Capitan
Media Writers
Regulars
RAW Exposure
Book Review
Gear Reviews
Classifieds
Back Page Story – The Six Degrees
by Terence Livingstone
