The 'Naki

Made the long drive to New Plymouth this weekend to climb Mount Taranaki. I decided to take the “direct route” which involved the Forgotten World Highway and a “no gas 150km sign.” Even for a New Zealand road, the twists and turns on this highway were enough to make my sense of adventure carsick.

New Plymouth seemed like a nice, industrial little city, but maybe I just get excited these days about being anywhere the population is larger than three thousand. The weather was fine and I had a lovely walk along the coast before meandering down for live music at one of the many parks, which happened to be lit up for their summer festival.

I was a little concerned about the weather - being a large peak right on the ocean, Taranaki can attract some pretty variable weather conditions. The weather forecast for the day before had said "fine with some cloudy periods" and when I arrived at the DOC (Department of Conservation) visitors center to check on the route, it was pouring down rain. Nevertheless, I was determined to be determined and rose at 5 fingers crossed. The world was clouded over. By the time I was at the trail head the sun was breaking through -

and I had a good feeling about the weather.

The track itself was quite scenic, beginning in the “goblin forest” and winding its way up (and only up….I don’t think more than ¼ mile of that trail was flat) along a service road to an alpine hut, and then through an atmospheric mix of basalt cliff sides and high alpine scenery. After a never-ending flight of wooden stairs (to protect regeneration of vegetation communities...though i did feel a bit silly) there was the obligatory scree field and a proper scramble to the summit.

At 8:45, the last wisps of cloud were blown away from the top of the mountain, and I turned around to this awesome sight:

A small glacial saddle sits just before the summit, but the snow was soft enough in the sun to walk across without feeling too unsafe. Eyeing the sheer icy runway to my right did make me wish I had an ice axe and definitely had me thinking about how unpleasant - and inaffective - a self-arrest with my elbows might be. All was fine though, and I enjoyed some inspiring views and company of several fine hikers at the top. The highlight of lunch was probably the guy who thought my gaiters were sexy. New Zealand is a funky place.

See album to the right for more photos. Peace.