A New Dictionary

It’s 10:30 pm. It’s dark. We’re halfway up a steep slope trying to put our crampons on. We can’t see the track markers in the pitiful light emitted by our headlamps. Half of the poles are covered in snow and ice anyway. Why are we doing this? Because it’s an eagerly awaited family holiday!

We didn’t leave Auckland until after 1 pm on Friday, and after driving for six hours we finally reached the Dawson Falls carpark at 7 pm. A few last minute things are crammed into already full packs, then it is off up the track to Syme Hut. The hut is situated on top of Fantham’s Peak, a parasitical peak on the side of Mt. Egmont, at an altitude of 1960m. This means that we have to climb 1100 vertical metres from the carpark.

The track begins by winding its way through bush, and soon we encounter the first of the hundreds of steps on the path. We revel in the crisp mountain air, and the beauty and wildness of our surroundings. After a while we emerge into the subalpine scrub but our view of the mountain is obscured by a swathe of cloud just above the snow line. Here the steps begin in earnest. Many of them are topped by puddles or mudholes, keeping us on our toes as we trudge through the gloaming.

The first patches of snow appear beside the track after the sun has set. We walk through snow lying in the track. Suddenly wooden stairs rear up in front of us. The ice-coated steps are treacherous and demand careful attention. The staircase goes up, up, up through the tussock. No end is in sight. We plod on. Surely there must be an end to the hundreds of steps. Finally we regain the earth, and the track is marked by wooden standards. Negotiating snow and scoria takes all of our attention. A fall here could have serious consequences.

Suddenly we are surrounded by cloud. The next marker is lost to us in the gloom. The atmosphere is demoralizing. We continue going up. We know that as long as we keep heading upwards, we will eventually reach our beds. The rocks get fewer and fewer; the snow gets harder and icier – more dangerous. Finally we find a rock to sit on and don our crampons. We can see the top, but distances are deceiving in the darkness. We continue upwards, feeling a lot safer with our crampons biting into the hard snow.

We reach the ridge and angle left. Now the ground falls away below us. Fantham’s Peak has been reached. Where is the hut supposed to be? With the light of our torches we discern Syme Hut. Exultant but weary, we tramp across the plateau. At 11:20pm, four hours after beginning our climb, we reach our destination.