"Adventure" on Table Mountain

Interesting fact: more people die every year on Table Mountain than on Mount Kilimanjaro. With that in mind, we began our trek up Table Mountain bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and full of energy, hope and fluids. We aimed to hike all the way up, approximate 2 1/2 hours according to the guide book. About a half hour into our journey, and as we glared at a sign post on the main trail, we ran into a hiker who appeared like he knew what he was doing . He had the hiker look going with the thick hiker socks, cut off t shirt and sunglasses which screamed "I know where I'm going". What's more, he casually and amicably asked us if we knew where we were going in a thick South African accent.
At this time, we were following the main path, which seemed clear enough. Yet we answered honestly that we didn't exactly know as none of us had hiked up Table Mountain before. Little did we know, answering him honestly was a poor decision.

"Oh, this way is much faster," he asserted as he pointed up the steep slope, away from the trail we were following, "the trail gets a little faint at times but its easy to follow."
Yeah, right.

About three hours later we ran into that sign post again, thankfully -- for the sake of his health -- he was nowhere to be seen. No, we had not made it up the mountain. Instead, we had spent hours trudging through prickly bushes, climbing up and down rock formations and bloodying ourselves as we tried -- and failed -- to make it up Table Mountain.
Before we reached the sigh and that damn hiker, we saw the pictured sign which has a pretty clear message. Even men can follow those simple directions to stay out of Blinkwater Ravine. Little did we know that just a few hours later we would find ourselves going down that very ravine to try to save ourselves from, what I will euphemistically call, fertilizing a national park.
Alas, we made it back down to that sign and after much false hope on my part that we could make it up before sun down following the real trail, it was crushed by reality and we decided to head home. As we descended Table Mountain we were distraught, thirsty, tired and sore. We were only left by three small consolations.
First, I don't recall any of us saying we wanted to hike to the top of Table Mountain. As I recall, the semantics were "hike up" Table Mountain. Certainly, and I think you will agree, we had done that.
Second, we were certain that hiker who gave us horrendous directions would burn in the firey pits of hell.
Third, by the time we made it back down to the cable car station, we realized that any dignity or pride we wanted to salvage was heavily outweighed by our desire for some ice cold water.
So, we ended our journey with a SUCCESSFUL trek to a neighborhood supermarket, thankful to have our health and that "adventure" under our belts.