Originally written in 2022
I’d been to Mt Donna Buang twice before, but this time was different.
Most people prefer hiking and sightseeing on a fine day. I do too.
But every now and then, curiosity gets the better of me. 
We were supposed to drive all the way to the summit, but the fog was so thick that visibility was probably only about ten metres. Three kilometres below the top, Graeme and my sister-in-law decided there wasn’t much point continuing.
They had a perfectly reasonable argument:
There would be nothing to see.
Naturally, I decided to go anyway. 
I convinced them to wait in the car while I walked the remaining three kilometres to the summit.
Was I expecting some spectacular view to suddenly appear?
Not really.
I just wanted to know what it felt like to be up there, out in the open, at around 6°C, surrounded by fog.
At 1,245 metres, Mt Donna Buang normally offers beautiful views across the surrounding ranges and valleys.
That day, I saw absolutely none of them.
No panorama.
No distant mountains.
No dramatic horizon.
Just mist.
And strangely, that was what made it special.
There was something almost surreal about standing there while everything beyond a few metres simply disappeared. The cold mist wrapped around the mountain, the trees faded into grey, and for a while the world felt very small and very quiet.
Sometimes you go somewhere for the view.
And sometimes, there is no view at all — but you’re still glad you went.
Stories Along the Way 