I had planned to break the five and half hour drive after work to New Plymouth with a stay overnight halfway. But the weather window was good and someone decided that Friday was the day to summit Mt Taranaki – I could hardly miss out on such an adventure and new experiences with dear family and friends. I’ve climbed higher peaks, even in the North Island, but never in winter through such snow and ice cover. So I was pleased to arrive safely in New Plymouth not too tired.
Leaving the parking lot at the North Egmont Visitor Centre, it was just on sunrise and we were treated to the mountain being bathed in a wonderful glow.
The clear skies were also pleasing to see.
A relatively steep double-track road (used to service the transmission tower we reached just before donning our crampons) took us through dense native forest. Gnarled old trees, branches and foliage lost as the mountain stood above.
I was taken with the difference and large crown of the cabbage trees – most unusual compared to the ones I usually see.
As the snow layer thickened, we reach an alpine club hut. A little salubrious – electricity, flush toilets and swipe card access. Crampons were fitted to my boots (and everyone else’s, but it wasn’t unusual for Adele, James & Dan), snacks taken on, sunscreen applied and we were off into the snow and ice.
It took a little to get used to walking around with big spikes attached to one’s feet. Using the handle of an ice axe as a walking pole, on the uphill side of the traverses, was more difficult to get a rhythm going with. Switching hands through the leash (it doesn’t pay to lose an ice axe down the slope) every time we switched directions also required more concentration than simply walking.
After a short section of quite narrow snow between rocks and a drop (great introduction), our route opened into a nice wide gully.
Apparently it was time for me to learn to “self-arrest”. Which basically involved throwing oneself down the hill, getting a bit of a slide going on (keep your feet up to prevent snagging them) and leveraging the ice axe into the snow to stop the descent to certain peril. Brilliant. Two such attempts were enough.
Steep enough for this novice.
We watched a large layer of cloud slowly approach us from the east and smaller clouds blew on top of us and soon fled. It was a surprisingly calm day for the most part. Occasionally we were exposed to a bit of a southerly, but conditions were generally benign. Small patches of white-out conditions had us following the poled route.
Due to my inexperience it had been decided we’d take the easiest, least interesting route up. It was plenty interesting for me but – constant thought of where one was stepping, trying to get as much contact between crampons and snow, driving ice axe in. So much so, that I had to stop to admire the view, rather than looking aimlessly while walking. There were four others that we shared the walk up with – everyone taking slightly different routes up.
Approaching the crater, the ice formations became larger, more unusual and at times surreal.
In the crater, the surface turned from snow to lumpy, knobby ice.
It looked rather windswept. While we were still bathed in sun, a layer of cloud encircled the lower reaches of the mountain.
Out of the crater, one last pitch up to the summit. Here the ice was in much larger lumps, some of them shattered when bearing weight, others didn’t – they all looked potential ankle breakers though.
Five hours after setting off, we had ascended 1500 metres and enjoyed a bit of time on the rather flat and, in this case, calm summit.
Dropping back down to the crater, we lunched in the sun before starting the descent. Back on the snow, it took a little while to get any sort of technique to go at a decent pace – this involved moving from walking across the face using the whole sole of the foot to turning to walk down the steep slope and relying on one’s heels to dig in. It worked, until it was too steep and I became more faint of heart.
The weather closed in again, and after two hours of slow descent (oh for skis) I think I was starting to get a bit fatigued. So repetitive…
One of the other parties inadvertently followed us down – which would have been OK, except we were not going back to the hut where they were heading. As the visibility vanished, we cut back to the poled route so that they did not get lost. Parting ways just before the hut, we missed a bit of the track out by taking a narrow gully – we tried sliding down, sans sleds, but it was rather bumpy.
Back on the access track – golly it got steep, no wonder it was paved in part.
Things cleared a enough to admire a bit more of the scenery.
My legs held out enough to make it back to the car. But how I would pay for it the following days – barely able to get up and simply walk, my quadriceps have never felt so tight. All worth it though – a fantastic day out learning new things, going new places with great people.
Not much snow looking south-east from where we parked.
Across the Maniototo to the Rock and Pillars.
A tad higher now, at least there is snow on the skin (4WD) track. Looking over to the western reaches of the Kakanui Mountains. I wonder if there is much bikepacking to be had up there…
We followed these footprints all the way to Buster Diggings, until we finally met two photographers from Dunedin on a day trip. Mt Kyeburn, our destination, in the background.
Into Buster Diggings – a bit difficult to see the remnants of sluice mining when it’s covered in snow. Once again, Mt Kyeburn in the distance – this time from a different angle.
Soon after the diggings we rested and snacked at the tiny Buster Hut. Apparently James spent a rather frigid night in here last winter. Well insulated, it was not.
Looking west over the Ida Range; it looks a bit different to when we biked over it almost four years previously.
Made it, after about four hours (1636 m); finally proper windy as the Maniototo stretches west behind us.
Looking over to the Kakanuis from the summit.
Snow cover getting a bit variable, and the track being pretty rutted made for exciting and knee-flexing times.
Speaking of fair clouds, the clouds were kind to us that day – providing light cover and no rain.
A good warm-up for the day, taking about ninety minutes, during which I could look back over the hills I’d climbed and traveled over the previous days.
The most colourful thing we saw all day; unfortunately we missed all of the tours. We would shortly climb to Poolburn Reservoir, or Rohan Village as some may know it.
That’s a fair summary.
All smiles after the lovely valley floor riding – the Ida Valley behind. The climbing began again at that cattle stop.
Some careless child of the giants left their Tonka toy just sitting there. Young folks these days.
Weaving our way through countless scattered, jagged rocks kept the interest level up as plenty of holiday traffic passed us on the road. By which I mean about ten or twenty cars – basically rush hour.
#interestingclouds
We’d cross that smaller, greener ridge before then climbing the hills behind that.
More fenceposts provided handy bike stands at the top of that hour-long climb.
Crowding in for a not-really-a-summit selfie, and trying to get the bikes in too.
The rock and pillars of the Rock and Pillar. Looking over the valley below and at the clouds encroaching, they were looking a bit too far away to be that evening’s goal.
Back on road again, a brief section of relative pace.
The Upper Tairei River is just around the corner, behind that sign. 
We came from the left of shot, from over those ridges, to intersect with the gravel road
With the wind at our backs and views like this, it was rather pleasant.