Still, there are lots of stunning photos in the out-takes, so we’ll be posting a couple from each chapter over the following months.

Prizes went out to Pete Wilkie and Fiona Blair-Heslop (photo by Lydia Bradey) for their photos from the summits of  Mt Arthur and Aoraki Mount Cook. Both Pete and Fiona received a signed copy of Our Mountains.

Follow this blog or like our Facebook page to be notified of future giveaways – we’ve got more coming up…

Sunset from the ancient vocanic summit of Mt Pirongia (959m), Waikato.

Early light fingering across tapered ridge lines; Bellbirds mimicking each other through the upper branches of towering ancient trees; Rising country coming alive with sunlight and warmth – these are among the most poignant images I carry of Waikato’s highest landmark.

Tripping here with Mark is one of the highlights of our year long exploration of some of New Zealand’s most significant mountains. This is partly due to my enjoyment of the environment, as well as my own history with the place. The last time I was in this part of the Waikato was a decade earlier when brothers Glen and Steve both lived in Hamilton. Each time I visited, they drove me out to Pirongia Mountain to run up one of its steep tracks. I remember the gut-wrenching nature of the runs, feeling absolutely shattered at the top, and then the great views once I’d got enough oxygen back into my lungs. But, also, these were trips where I got to share an experience with both of my brothers, something I have grown to experience more as time passes.

At 959 metres above sea level, Pirongia Mountain is a dominant highpoint over the rolling hills and farmland here. Its full name is ‘Pirongia Te Aroaro O Kahu’ or ‘The Scented Presence Of Kahu’, and is the highest in a line of old volcanoes – the others being Karioi, Kakepuku and Te Kawa – spread across the Waikato Basin. Like most New Zealand mountains, these were formed by a deep subduction zone, where the Pacific and Indo-Australian tectonic plates pushed and slid against each other. Around 2.7million years ago, molten rock began to erupt from the friction, forming the volcanoes. The Waipa River is a defined break between the lowlands of the Waikato Basin to the east, and the rising, buckled country to the west.

There are many people living their lives under the mountain’s shadow, individuals and small communities either on the lower slopes of Pirongia Mountain or nearby. Meeting some of these people, Mark and I appreciate the obvious care and respect they have for their maunga. People like Jan Cullen, who lives with her husband Ray on a block of land just south of Pirongia Village, close to the Waipa River, on the eastern side of the mountain. Jan is principal at Pirongia School, a school with the motto ‘Pikia To Tatou Maunga’ or ‘Together We Climb’.

‘This is a good place,’ Jan explains to Mark and I, referring both to the school and the village, ‘a really nice community that engages on so many levels. Through the efforts of a few keen locals, it feels that the whole village has taken responsibility for caring for the mountain and land around it.’

And we also get to meet ‘Aunty’ Kahu Kaumoana, fondly known as the matriarch of Pirongia School. Now in her 80s, Kahu has lived in the Pirongia district all of her life. When she first attended Pirongia School, Kahu was still to learn English. ‘My hands would be swollen from the strap so often,’ she tells us. ‘But we never spoke English at home. Slowly I learned.’

Talking to Kahu is like getting a living window back through time. ‘The most important thing is respect,’ she says, ‘respect for the maunga. My grandfather told me about the old ways. I’m saddened that they are being forgotten. But when I see the children at this school and how they speak of my maunga with respect, then I think it’s still in good hands.’

Pirongia Mountain stands tall and proud above the small communities here. The sun casts its warm glow over the dark wooded hills and across the meandering upper ridges. It is a calming place, in the lee of this very significant mountain. Kahu is right to feel so protective of her maunga. I hope that future generations continue to feel the same way.’

David Viles and Callum Grant (guide) celebrate on the summit of Mount Aspiring.

For the Mount Aspiring/Tititea chapter of Our Mountains we wanted to explore the tradition of mountain guiding in New Zealand, particularly on Mt Aspiring itself and see the mountain from the perspective of a guide/client team. Adventure Consultants very generously assisted us with this and allowed Mark to accompany guide Callum Grant and client David Viles on a successful ascent of the North West Ridge.

For Mark it took two trips to get the ascent photographs he needed. The first trip with Andy Cole (guide) and John Apps (client) was thwarted by a prolonged storm and the trio got no further than 100m above French Ridge Hut. Kind weather allowed a flight in for trip two and after a day waiting out weather at Colin Todd Hut Mark, Callum and David were able to make the summit in perfect clear weather.

For David, a Cantabrian in his 60’s, reaching Aspiring’s summit was his first mountain and a ‘bucket list’ experience. He trained hard for the climb and consequently stormed it on the day, taking all of the day’s challenges in his stride – including falling into a crevasse on the Bonar Glacier on the trip out. He has rebooked Callum for an attempt at Aoraki Mount Cook this summer. Good luck David!

-MW

Author Paul Hersey takes in a blazing sunset on the summit of Mt Arthur.

BOOK GIVEAWAY!

Release week for Our Mountains means it’s time for a book giveaway, but we want YOU to participate!

Our Mountains features 15 mountains that Paul and I considered to be among the most significant to New Zealanders.

They are (from north to south): Manaia, Mt Eden, Pirongia Mountain, Hikurangi, Mt Ruapehu, Mt Taranaki, Mt Hector, Tapuae-o-uenuku, Mt Arthur, Mt Rolleston, Aoraki Mount Cook, Mt Aspiring/Tititea, Double Cone, Mitre Peak and Mt Anglem/Hananui.

We’d love to see YOUR photos of people on the summits of these mountains: could be you, your mate, or a complete stranger but we’d like to celebrate some of the stoke Kiwis have for our iconic high places. Can we get a shot from every summit?

So please Like & post to our Facebook Page and share it around. Best photo submitted by 9pm Friday 11 October 2013 WINS a copy of OUR MOUNTAINS!

Please just one photo, per entrant, per place, and keep ’em awesome!

Paul and I are very happy to announce that Our Mountains was officially launched nationwide in New Zealand this week.

The book should be available widely from good book stores and Macpac outlets by the end of this week.

Thanks to everyone who has helped with this 15 month project. We hope you enjoy the book, and it inspires you to get among Our Mountains.

– MW.

Kester Brown looking back across the Double Cone – Single Cone Grand Traverse, from the summit of Single Cone. Remarkables.

High above Queenstown – the self promoting ‘adventure capital’ of the world – the soaring apex of the Remarkables Range draws the eye naturally upwards. Double Cone and its neighbour Single Cone are undoubted highlights for any climbers visiting the area. Some call Queenstown the Chamonix of the South – in comparison with France’s climbing capital – and this is all down to the location, accessibility and quality of the nearby mountains.

For Mark and I, researching Double Cone was certainly not a chore. The Remarkables Ski Field access road allowed easy access to the upper part of the mountain, and the climbing opportunities – both winter and summer – that arise in all sides. In winter, the Remarkables Ice and Mixed Festival draws climbers from all round the country as well as overseas to test themselves on the ever increasing number of ice and mixed routes here. And in summer, a number of fine rock routes can be found on a various faces.

For me, the Double Cone – Single Cone traverse is an absolute must! You’ll need a head for heights with this one, and also some technical climbing sills. Although the traverse is considered easy by competent rock climbers and alpinists, some teams choose to use a rope because of the exposure.

In summer, the traverse is a pleasant rock scramble/climb, basically sticking to the ridge-line from Double Cone to Single Cone. Some people climb it the other way, but Double to Single means you get to climb up, rather than down, the crux at Double Cone. There is also a tricky bit down-climbing Single Cone which can sometimes be wet or iced up, but abseil anchors are available if needed. In winter, the whole route can be covered in snow or ice, and becomes more technical.

If climbed unroped, the route can be completed in an easy half day car-to-car, but it’s much nicer to take your time and enjoy the view. Don’t be surprised to see some ‘gun’ climber flash past in running shoes – for them this is a training circuit!

I always look forward to visiting Queenstown, either for a weekend or a more extended stay. The range of climbing opportunities on Double Cone are more than enough to keep me interested.

–PH

]]> https://ourmountainsbook.wordpress.com/2013/09/17/behind-the-scenes-double-cone/feed/ 0 139 5D2-02-0743 highlux Kester Brown looking back across the Double Cone - Single Cone Grand Traverse, from the summit of Single Cone. Remarkables. https://ourmountainsbook.wordpress.com/2013/09/11/behind-the-scenes-mount-arthur/ https://ourmountainsbook.wordpress.com/2013/09/11/behind-the-scenes-mount-arthur/#respond Wed, 11 Sep 2013 22:00:44 +0000 http://ourmountainsbook.wordpress.com/?p=127 Continue reading →]]>

Neil and Paul enter the Nettlebed Cave lower entrance/exit from the Pearse Valley.

Mount Arthur (1795m) is well known to those who live in the top of the south. It’s a place where many Nelsonians have experienced their first tramp, seen a kea, or examined with wonder the shells remaining from Powelliphanta – our endemic giant snail.

Part of Kahurangi National Park, the karst massif comprising Mt Arthur and its surrounding ranges is riven with cave systems, one of the deepest and most famous of which is Nettlebed, a fractured network of some 24 kilometres of limestone passages. Well mapped by numerous caving explorations since 1969 the labyrinth descends 889 metres from its upper entrance among the golden tussock of the Mount Arthur tops to an exit among verdant bush near the Pearse Resurgence.

It was this unique aspect of Mount Arthur that we choose to pursue for Our Mountains and with exploratory caver and photographer Neil Silverwood, Paul and I made a trip into the Nettlebed cave system from the Pearse Valley.

Christchurch caving and climbing legend Lindsay Main kindly lent us some equipment, and took the precautionary step of measuring the width of Paul’s broad surfer shoulders to make sure they’d fit through the infamous triple-squeeze crux known as the Hinklehorn Honking Holes.

Still, it was with some trepidation on Paul’s part that the three of us entered the cave on a drizzly autumn morning. Gumboots-off, Paul made it through the squeezes though and three of us spent a long day underground, exploring passages, shooting and being entranced by the uniqueness of the subterranean world.

Well versed in underground lighting techniques Neil was the perfect tutor for a crash course in cave photography and he and I returned the following day for a second full day of shooting.

Underground photography, where the only source of light (apart from head torches) is radio trigger controlled strobes, is a time consuming and experimental process and it usually took about an hour to get the lighting from multiple strobes right for each shot, along with misfires, focussing issues and trying not to drop everything in the water! Despite the work required for a single good frame it was a genre of photography that I very much enjoyed and I’m looking forward to more time underground.

–MW

Prior to removing his gumboots, Paul gets wriggly with the first squeeze in the Hinklehorn Honking Holes, Nettlebed.

The third squeeze on the Hinklehorn Honking Holes requires you to put both arms behind your head and drop in feet first.

Neil Silverwood on the Up and Overs section of Nettlebed.

Neil inside the Volcano Tubes section of Nettlebed. Ancient bat skeletons can be seen on the floor of this section of the cave.

Double exposure of Neil Silverwood in the Meltdown section of Nettlebed.

The Pearse Resurgence.

Opposite Mounts Aubrey and Manaia a lonely gun emplacement overlooks the Whangarei Harbour Mouth.

I realised I got a kick out of climbing around the same time I realised I was scared of heights. Clutching a giddily exposed cliff near the top of Northland’s towering Manaia, the irony of this dilemma wasn’t lost on me. Being excited and petrified at the same time is a difficult concoction of emotions to manage mid climb. Yet that confusing experience all those years ago helped shaped the path – or more accurately, cliff – I chose to travel upon. Manaia has a lot to answer for.

There have been so many more climbs since. Yet, returning to the beginning, to record and reconsider the influence of this significant mountain with Mark, has been both humbling and enlightening.

Northland is not noted for its mountains. Sandy beaches, surf, diving and great fishing are what people expect in the ‘Winterless North’. And these were what I pursued through most of my youth – until I discovered climbing. My early forays up Manaia with brothers Glen and Steve opened a whole new world, albeit one that scared me as much as it enticed.

With a summit of 420 metres, Manaia is not a particularly strenuous climb, but its combination of weird rocky formations, lush rain forest, and sweeping views make for a thoroughly worthwhile 2-3 hour outing.

Manaia is part of the remains of a once huge, 50km wide volcano that scientists reckon erupted some 20 million years ago. Other remnants of the old volcano include the nearby Mt Lion and Bream Head – another interesting, and longer, hike – and the offshore Hen and Chicken Islands.

The original route up Manaia – the one that my brothers and I used – involved shimmying up a rather exposed chimney just below the summit outcrop. But DOC recently built a new track that curves round the southern edge of the Manaia and climbs its south eastern flank.

The new summit viewing platform is set some way back from the actual summit. There’s a sign asking visitors not to proceed any further out of respect for the area’s sacred heritage. Where my brothers and I climbed up all tose years ago is now considered off limits.

But the view from here is stunning. Below, New Zealand’s only oil refinery, Marsden Point, hums away at the northern tip of Bream Bay, while the quaint bays of Whangarei Harbour appear rich with pohutukawa and birdsong. To the east, the wide blue of the Pacific stretches away to an endless horizon. The view is well worth the climb.

Returning with Mark allowed me to reconsider the Winterless North – the landscape, the fauna and flora and the communities living on its edge. This is a special part of the country and a place that I am proud to consider as where I grew up.

– PH

Back where it all started, Paul reflects on a life among the mountains of New Zealand.

A spring storm clears to reveal Mt Taranaki – an omnipresent backdrop to New Plymouth.

Strong winds buffet Phill and Paul as they discuss whether to continue on Mt Taranaki.

Being seasoned climbers, Mark and I never considered that Mount Taranaki would prove too taxing to climb. But a particularly feisty spring storm system meant we almost missed out during our trip there.

The first attempt saw high winds buffetting us and cloud scurrying by, sucking light from the sky and enveloping us in grey nothing. We sheltered in the lee of a rocky alcove at around 2000 metres on Mount Taranaki’s north-eastern flank, shouting at each other whether to continue climbing. Eventually we decided to descend.

We had attempted the climb with New Plymouth’s Phill Davies, club captain for the Taranaki Alpine Club (TAC). At 29, Phill was one of the younger, more active members of the 400 strong TAC. He moved to New Plymouth in 2010 with his wife Anna, attracted to both the area and the mountain.

After choosing to abandon our climb, Mark and I stayed with Phill and Anna at their New Plymouth home, hoping the weather would lift enough to try again.

It took six days, but eventually a half day clearance allowed us another brief opportunity to try to reach the summit. Cloud and wind were still our companions, along with new snow. It had snowed heavily the night before, and we wondered about avalanche conditions further up the mountain. With cloud and wind still clogging the mountain in the morning, there was no opportunity for an early start. We left the North Egmont car park just before lunch, and started kicking steps up through the fresh snow.

Given the challenging weather conditions, Phill suggested the North Ridge as the best option – hopefully it wouldn’t be loaded with too much fresh snow. A few weeks earlier, two local climbers had been swept hundreds of metres down the northern flank of Mount Taranaki by a wind-slab avalanche. Phill pointed out where the climbers were knocked over by the avalanche. Judging by the fall line, they were lucky to survive.

One of the unique aspects of Mount Taranaki is the view. It is surrounded by the ocean on three sides. As I ascended the last few hundred metres to the wind swept, ice encrusted summit, I was mesmerised by the ocean. Plenty of our mountains have a view of the sea, but to see it almost all around felt like I was standing right on the edge of Aotearoa.

Mark, Phill and I reached the summit just before sunset. Mark dashed around with his camera to capture everything before the light faded. Phill and I hunkered down, trying to shelter from the bitingly cold wind and the constantly swirling snow. It hadn’t been an easy climb, but reaching the summit felt more special because of this.

–PH

Paul fights on despite a whirlwind of spindrift and strong winds on Mt Taranaki.

The calm after the storm! Descending Mt Taranaki as the sun sets.