Some people give skiers a lot of stick, but it's a lot more worthwhile
than climbing. What's the point of just getting to the top of these peaks?
Only joking. I do see the point in climbing, especially the ski descent
after the ascent.
Anyway, better than the normal fixed heel skiing is the true
alpine pursuit of Telemark skiing. This is the original form of skiing
and originates from the Norwegian area Telemark. Traditional, old school
Telemark skiers wore leather boots. The boot is attached to the ski only
at the toe leaving the heel free. The boot had three holes in the toe which
attach to three small pins on the ski. Hence old school Telemarkers are
referred to as pin heads.
New school telemarkers wear plastic boots, but these are still
a lot lighter and more comfortable than normal alpine ski boots. There
is a boot inner which comes out from the plastic shell. The most sought
after boots are Scarpa Terminator boots (which I hear are best for turning).
The bindings used by the new school are cable bindings which secure the
back of the boot with a cable which can be loosened or tightened. The advantage
of this, if you fall, is that the boot isn't wrenched out of the three
pins. With any sort of binding there are no ski brakes so you have to make
sure that the ski is tied to the boot or you may lose it in a big crash.
A big advantage with Telemark skis, which makes them ideal for ski
touring is that you can put skins on them and use them for going up hill.
The skis are also nice and light without heavy bindings on them.
You can buy skis which are designed especially for Telemarking, although
I use an old pair of Dynamic GS skis. This year was my first year Telemarking.
It was going to be a big season but the eruption of Mt. Ruapehu ruined
it. It was a pity that I didn't already know how to Telemark when I was
staying at Carkeek over winter. I had all the gear but didn't feel like
learning to Telemark on Carkeek ridge.
So, instead of 40 - 50 days learning to Telemark at Whakapapa,
we hired camper vans and went down for free skiing at Treble cone. This
is probably the Telemark Mecca of New Zealand and there are a few good
Telemark skiers about.
Once I was back in the North Island I was able to get about 8
days in at Whakapapa. One of the highlights was climbing up above Te heu
heu valley. From there we had awesome view of the lakes and the desert
road. Then it was a big Telemark descent back down to the ski field. In
the end I only got in 14 or 15 days Telemarking this season, but because
of my alpine skiing background I was Telemarking quite competently by the
end of it. I was quite enjoying skiing 40 degree slopes and actually found
that Telemark skis are quite stable on steep slopes.
Most of all I want to get into ski mountaineering with my Telemarks. I would love to do Mt. Aspiring and anything in the Mt. Cook region. I remember Jonathan Clarke saying that Ellie de Beaumont has the biggest vertical ski drop in New Zealand. I really want to get some alpine climbing skills so that I can get the top of these descents. I recommend that climbers take up Telemarking so that when they reach the top of a climb they have an awesome descent to look forward to as well.
Join the tramping club they said, see the world they said. I think they
were right, I saw a lot of stuff on the mid winter wander in Kahurangi
National Park, mostly the stuff I saw was snow. When I wasn’t looking at
the snow I was looking at some of the most amazing country in which I have
ever been.
I did have a problem on this trip though, the sadistic trip organiser
saddled me with a group that seemed just a wee bit too keen for my liking.
When I was in leader school I was taught that there was only one way to
deal with a potentially keen group and that is to show them the value of
pit days as soon a possible. Having done this I believe I was successful
in turning some of my group to the soft side of the tramping club.
Darth Piker strikes again, come over to the Soft Side group.....it is your destiny.
The first day of the trip was hard but I think as a group we handled
it well. The ferry crossing was fairly arduous, as was the van trip to
the road end. We had a pretty gun driver who, I believe, would have been
quite prepared to drive us all the way up the Cobb valley to Fenella hut
if he hadn’t had a birthday party to attend in Picton. As it was he drove
at break neck speeds over some fairly treacherous roads (ice and stuff)
and only nearly killed us all once.
We spent the first night at Trilobite hut. There were a couple of really
neat guys there who had just written a book on hunting in New Zealand,
They had a cool toy with them in the form of a night vision scope (they
weren’t using it for hunting I think they were testing it out or something)
which they let us have a play with. It was just like all those night time
shots from the Gulf war, except that there were no missiles, Americans,
or Iraqis to look at. Come to think of it, it was nothing like the Gulf
war but you get the general idea. They also fixed the cooker I was carrying
(I haven’t had a cooker that has worked on a club trip all year, have I
upset the gear custodians?).
The next day dawned clear (at least I imagine it did, I wasn’t up at
dawn unlike some other people I might mention. Getting up at dawn is one
of the first signs that a tramper is keen, either that or they have a firing
squad to attend) and after a satisfactory breakfast we proceeded at a leisurely
pace up the Cobb valley to Fenella hut. The scenery was brilliant so I
just wandered along being impressed. Fenella is a great hut. We got to
spend two nights there and it is the place where we spent our first pit
day.
On Monday morning I feigned illness while my group (who were still showing disturbing signs of being too keen, such as getting up early on a designated pit day.) went to look at Lake Cobb. They had a good time on their short day trip and some were even going to go up towards Waingaro Peak after lunch. This is where they were wrong. After a nice lie in I got up and had an unhurried breakfast. I then sat out on the porch of Fenella hut with a book and a cup of fresh coffee. I just relaxed and took in my beautiful surroundings. It was in this repose that I was found by my group on their return from Lake Cobb. It was too much for them and all thought of physical activity was banished from their minds. I was winning, no one went up to Waingaro Peak that day.
Tuesday was a good day. We left Fenella at about 10:30 and slowly wandered down the Cobb valley (note that the operative word in that sentence was down). We had only been going a short time when we met the groups led by Melinda and Chris coming up the valley. After some quick mental calculations I worked out that they had left Trilobite hut a heinously early hour and must therefore be keen. We stopped to talk with them for a while and found that Melinda was the ring leader of this keenness and was driving her group before her like a sadistic slave driver. Just as some of her group were about to open up and tell me of their horrific plight she whisked them away from their only hope of salvation. It is terrible to see an innocent group in the clutches of such evil but do not worry gentle reader, be assured that one day the truth will come out and justice will prevail.
Tuesday night was quite interesting. We got to Trilobite hut and found it already full. After some discussions I decided to check out Myttons hut just up he track (some people may believe that going to a hut to check it is unoccupied, coming back to collect your group and tramping back up to that same hut is keen behaviour, it isn’t, I just felt like a walk, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it). Myttons is a four bunk hut and there were six of us, two had to sleep on the floor. I can’t for the life of me work out how it happened but the two leaders in our group, Dirk and myself, were the poor unfortunates who ended up on the floor. Half way through the night two things happened. The first involved a bird calling out very close to the hut, the bird in question was a Great Spotted Kiwi (confirmed later by Dirk who was listening to the bird call on National Radio) so that was quite a buzz, they do exist outside of wild life sanctuaries, at least for now. The second event involved our friendly rodent landlords. They decided to hold a party in the fire place. This was fine for those who had bunks, but not so good for Dirk and myself who were on the floor. Dirk did the noble thing and jumped up to move all the food to higher places.
If Tuesday night was interesting then Wednesday was utterly fascinating. There was an awful lot of up at the start of the day to get to the Table Lands, so we took it very easy. As we proceeded we began to encounter more and more snow. This was not a bad thing initially. Once we got to the top of the ridge from Myttons we noticed that the weather was closing in and pressing on seemed like a good idea. By lunch time it became obvious that we were not going to make it to Balloon hut before the bad weather hit. We got caught in a white out just above Lake Peel. It wasn’t too bad at first as we could follow the tracks of a group who had gone before us but we soon hit a snag. The tracks of the group we had been trailing suddenly became highly divergent and utterly impossible to follow (we later found out the group in question had been playing in the snow and running about all over the place, thanks guys). We were faced with a problem, the track marking stakes were placed fifty meters apart and we could only see twenty meters. After a lot of mucking about we finally decided to use a map and compass. This worked surprisingly well and we were soon back on the track to Balloon hut.
When we got to Balloon we meet some rather interesting people. Unfortunately there were sixteen of them. Balloon is a twelve bunk hut, add the six in our group to their number and you get a reasonably cosy night. The people in question were on an outdoor adventure tourism course. Once their course was over they were going to go out into the world as tour guides and show overseas tourists our great outdoors. I may be judging them too harshly but the impression I got is that if the people doing the course get any where near tourists New Zealand will lose a multi million dollar industry over night. The people running the course were great, and some of those taking the course were fine. Others were utterly disorganised and didn’t really have a clue (they left a large amount of stuff behind when they departed from Balloon). We ended up spending two nights with them one at Balloon and one at Salisbury. They were all nice people and usually courteous but it is going to take more than a couple of tramping trips to make them outdoor guides.
I have fond memories of Thursday. We had to go from Balloon all the way to Salisbury. The snow was pretty deep as it had been falling all night. We did the wise thing and waited for the group of sixteen to go down before us. By the time we left there was a well worn trail ahead of us, even so it still took us a whole hour and a half to get to Salisbury. That was all the tramping we did on that day and I was happy with our progress. The rest of the day was declared to be a pit day. Over the course of the day more of the tramping club arrived at Salisbury and once again things got very cosy.
On Friday we bid farewell to the adventure tourism people. Yet again they left half of their gear behind (which turned out to be quite a good thing as you shall see). Some of my group thought it would be a good to spend the night in a rock shelter. While a believe that this would be a great idea in Summer it was still snowing and it was kind of chilly. In the end the options had to be weighed up, warm hut, cold rock shelter, can you guess where we spent Friday night? Yes I’m a sook, and damned proud of it too. Friday turned out to be another pit day (how odd). Some of the others thought that they should do something active. Dave and Nat headed off towards Gordon’s Pyramid and several others tried their hand at snow sculpture. I sat in front of the heater and stayed warm. The snow sculptures were interesting, the mermaid was quite nice, but I don’t quite see the relevance of a snow pig to the V.U.W.T.C. David and Nat returned after some time mumbling something incoherently about “mission” and “snow” which I didn’t quite take in but it sounded like they had an interesting time (those chaps were too keen by half). During the course of the afternoon two hunters arrived at the hut. This proved to be an enlightening experience for us all. One of them was obviously the talker of the pair and he went on to assure us that all of Eric's group was “fucken dead”. He seemed very sure of himself as he repeated the phrase “fucken dead” every few sentences. It seems that they had run into Eric and Co. down in the Karamea, knew which route they planned on taking, and pronounced it suicidal. If memory serves Eric's group turned up several hours after the hunters left the hut and they didn’t appear to be dead at all. ( luckily they had changed their plans -ed)
Our last night in the bush was quite a laugh. The three or so groups in the hut ended up having a group massage session. The sight of ten or so trampers all giving each other back massages has to be seen to be fully appreciated. I did attempt to lead the others in a rousing rendition of All Things Dull And Ugly, but no one really caught on. I have no idea what the world is coming to when there is no one willing to make a fool of themselves and sing on a tramping trip (after six days in the bush you have little street cred. left to lose so lighten up people).
On Saturday we made the snow pig into a really cool snow pig. The adventure tourism people had left behind a pair of sunglasses which we put on the pig (well it was very bright outside). The weather had cleared so we headed out to the road end though some utterly amazing country. The tablelands were shrouded in a thin mist. The reflections off the snow and the silhouettes of the trees made the whole landscape extremely ethereal. It was almost like something out of The Hobbit. I was very impressed. On the way we checked out a few of the rock shelters. They looked like fun places to stay but I still felt that it was more of a summer thing. We made it to the bus on time and arrived in Picton around seven o’clock. There we had a large feed of stodgy food and got on the ferry for the trip home.
It was a great trip. We did the dead minimum to get out on time but I think we all enjoyed ourselves. I definitely recommend tramping in Kahurangi National Park. It contains some phenomenal country and is well worth a look. If I can manage to dodder around in the bush for seven days then anybody can. Remember you don’t have to be keen to have a great trip. The lure of the Soft Side is strong, just give in to it.
The main task required of me for the 96-97 year as Hut Custodian was
to paint Penn Creek and Carkeek huts, the two huts in the Tararuas that
our club looks after. First up was Penn Creek. Along with painting it we
had volunteered to do some work on the sidle track out to Otaki Forks.
So a group of us (myself, Mike Cotsilinis, Chris Fitz, Dan Batten, Jeremy
Haines and Richard Allan) went in February to build some new tracks around
the major slips along the track.
On the Saturday we built a track around the second slip from the hut.
Richard and Mike cleared the route and put in a zig zag while the rest
of us scouted around for a route over the closest slip to the hut. On the
Sunday Mike, Chris and I marked the route over the big slip while the others
walked out down the river. We met up with them near Allan’s Creek where
Dan decided to join us on the sidle track as he didn’t want the chainsaw
he was carrying to get wet. The chainsaw came in use later, clearing tree
falls that were Dan’s height.
A few months later Jeremy Bray, Chris, Beck, Damon and I went
in to do more clearing with the help of some “loopers” supplied by DoC.
Jeremy also carried in the new broom, not an easy task along the sidle
track. On Sunday we came out via Tabletop with amazing views of the Tararuas,
Ruapehu and Tapaeanuku.
In November we planned to go in to paint. Despite several assurances
by DoC that yes, the paint would be choppered into the hut, there we were
on the Friday night at Waikanae loading 18L of paint into the back of the
car. Jeremy H and Tony took a 4L pot each and joined by Richard with two
2L pots walked into the hut via the sidle track that night. Nathan, Adrian
Pike, Chris, Beck, Melinda, Rachel, Matt and I took the rest of the paint
and the brushes etc, up to Field that night. Melinda had the task of carrying
the squeegee mop! (And a right drip I looked too! Not the best for travelling
through trees - ed)
On Saturday we found a pile of waratahs at the turn off on Tabletop and decided to take one each down to the hut for future use on the track. Halfway down to the river it began to rain - great painting weather! Nathan, Chris and I arrived at the hut to find Tony and Jeremy hard at work scrubbing the inside clean with their gear stored in the dog kennels outside. We set up two flies to keep our gear dry from the frequent rain storms that would hit for an hour or so and then stop. During the dry periods we scrubbed the outside of the hut and started to paint. It was then we discovered the extent of DOC's incompetence. Instead of the dark blue/purple paint asked for, we had been given paint that was more of a lavendar colour ! !
While the rest of us finished the outside, Jeremy and Melinda set to
making a ladder to get to the roof, with some driftwood from the river
and a couple of the waratahs brought down. Jeremy, Melinda and I finished
painting the roof at about 6:30 pm, including the racing strips on the
chimney.
Unfortunately it rained during the night and washed most of the paint
off the roof along with some off the hut. We woke to find a red ring around
the bottom of the hut. While cleaning the foam roller used for the roof,
Beck suggested I put a red hand print on the hut. With so much paint coming
off the roller I went one better and did a ring of hand prints around the
hut thinking I was going to come in only a few weeks later to paint over
it so it wouldn’t matter. How was I to know it was going to rain every
weekend ‘till Christmas in the Tararuas!
Before leaving we painted the inside of the hut and the ceiling. Nathan did a great job on the ceiling and looked just beautiful with his plastic bag over his head. Then it was time to head home via Burger King again for dinner.
After finishing my degree at the end of '94, I wondered, like many of us, what now? Getting a 'real job' seemed an appalling prospect, so instead I headed overseas with an ex-VUWTC member, Anjali Pande. Anj and I had survived Honours together so we figured we could probably survive being travel companions for a year. Our original plans had been to cycle tour around Europe, perhaps stopping to do some climbing along the way. After three weeks of solid rain in Germany,we headed to the South of France (by train) - the weather had to be better there. Our trip became progressively focussed on climbing, and as we weren’t hard-core enough to cycle with all our climbing gear,we ended up sending the bikes back to Anj’s Mum’s place in Germany and resigning ourselves to the fact that the climbing in France was just too good to resist.
Towards the end of summer we found ourselves in Chamonix, where many climbers from all over Europe converge, as it is a good place to access many climbs of varying difficulties and styles (rock,alpine etc). We had talked to lots of people about the place, and it was such a great feeling to finally be there! We spent our first evening sitting in the Centre-Ville engrossed in a pile of letters from home, occasionally stopping to take in the sight of the surrounding mountains, and to cringe at the multitude of tourists milling around.
The first few days were spent at the closest rock-climbing crag, Les Gaillands, where Anj dragged me (literally) up a few French 6a’s (approximately NZ grade 19). The evenings were spent getting to know some of the other climbers staying in Camping Les Arolles, a relatively cheap campsite within crawling distance of the obligatory Irish pub, Jekyll & Hyde.
On our third day at Chamonix it rained - a common theme so far on our trip. The day was spent mooching around the numerous sports/climbing stores in Chamonix, drooling over shiny karabiners and ropes. Now Anj and I had been getting on pretty well lately but we figured after three months of sharing a Minaret, it was probably time for us to have some “space”.That and the incredible amount of gear Anj had accumulated during her years of work at Bivouac, resulted in the purchase of a cheap and nasty tent by moi. The next few days were either rainy or dodgy (when the possibility of rain is sufficient for procrastinating climbers to call off a planned route) and were spent taking cover in cafes.
Our first notable achievement was climbing a peak called Aiguille de L’Index (2595m). Most people catch two chairlifts (they operate in winter for skiing and in summer for lazy tourists and climbers) to the base of the climb, however Anj and I decided to walk from the valley, in order to save money and get some decent exercise. So we got up at 6am, and were on the track by 8am. we climbed 1400m and walked a horizontal distance of 7km. When we got to the top of the second chairlift, the Aiguille Rouges (the name of the range L’Index is part of) were not visible - they were completely clagged in. So we stopped for lunch and then headed towards where we thought the climb was meant to start. Some British guys from the campsite were also climbing the same route that day, but had taken the chairlifts up. We could hear some voices, which we figured was probably them, already part-way up the climb. As we continued we were asked by two men if we knew where the climb started. After several minutes of speaking to each other in French, we finally realised these guys were American and continued the conversation in English.
We finally found our way to the base of the climb, which involved five pitches of grade 3 climbing (NZ 14). Aiguille de L’Index is a popular route for newcomers to Chamonix, and it is definitely a climb that is well worth doing. The actual climbing was most enjoyable (especially since Anj lead every pitch), and the views across to Mt Blanc on the other side of the valley weren’t too bad either!
The last pitch was probably the best - the start being a nice crack, followed by an arete to the top. The descent involved one abseil down the other side, and a mixture of down-climbing /scrambling down a couloir. After stopping to talk to a French family who were camping out in the snow at the base of the climb (their idea of a summer holiday!), we then made a speedy return to Chamonix, only to find the supermarket had already shut. Damn, we would have to buy pizza and beer for dinner instead of pasta, what a shame!
A few days later we set off to climb another popular route, with an English chap we had met at the campsite. Most of the day was spent getting organised, resulting in us catching a bus to Le Tour, a village further up the valley, at the incredibly early hour of four in the afternoon. From Le Tour we had a 1200m climb to Refuge Albert Premiere, a “hut” at 2700m. By the time we reached Albert Premiere, which we were planning to free camp behind, it was getting dark, and a little cold. So we wimped out and decided to stay in the Refuge instead. It cost us a mere 90F ($NZ30) for a bed, a room to cook in (the only one without a light), and toilets. Everyone who was planning to get up at 5am was put in the same room, so the warden could wake us all up at once. So my first night in a real bed for ages was cut tragically short, as I dragged myself out of bed to a breakfast of tea and muesli.
Soon after setting off from the Refuge we roped up for glacier travel as we were about to cross Glacier du Tour. After about four hours of snow-plodding, we crossed through Col du Tour into Switzerland, in order to climb Aiguille du Tour (3542m), by the easiest route. The last part of the climb was a little steeper, until the snow gave way to rock. We remained roped together, threading the rope over boulders for safety. I followed Colin over the last boulder, to the top of the climb, surprised to see about ten other people sitting around in the sun. Anj came up, cursing about letting Colin lead the last part of the climb.
Then we heard someone from one of the other parties call out “How was
your cycle tour across the States?” Anj and I looked to see who was talking
to us, then looked back at each other in disbelief. It was Miles, a climber
we had met briefly in America. He was working as a British Mountain Guide
in Chamonix and had just lead one of the parties up the mountain. He must
have recognised our Kiwi accents, because I don’t think he could have recognised
us under hats and sunglasses!
We had a quick chat before he herded his group off the mountain, and
we were left to enjoy the view by ourselves. After the obligatory summit
shots (half a roll of film), we began our descent. Going downhill roped
up was interesting, as everyone wanted to go at different speeds and hence
we kept pulling each other over. At the end of the day we felt pretty pleased
with ourselves - we had walked to Switzerland and climbed a 3000m peak
all in one day. Definitely something to write home about!
Dave Walker rang me up and asked if I wanted to go to Carkeek for Labour weekend. I had just finished my only exam but was meant to be going up to Ruapehu for my last Telemark skiing of the eruption shortened season. Just before the weekend I found out that I had to work Labour day so I couldn't go up skiing. I rang Dave and said I could go to Carkeek but had to be back Sunday night.
On Friday night I headed into town in the yellow peril to pick up Dave. Surprisingly the Lancer made it over the Rimatakas, in second gear and at maximum revs. Dinner was fish 'n' chips and Chinese and then off to Holdsworth Lodge.
We strolled along to Atiwhakatu hut and then up Rain Gauge spur to Jumbo for the night.
Saturday morning we were up and along in fine weather to Angle knob. Dave took out his radio and I used the opportunity to have a look through some binoculars I had brought along. The views were awesome and I could see a couple of people on top of Jumbo.
We carried on down to McGregor biv and then continued down McGregor spur. We disturbed quite a large deer along the spur. After a little bit of confusion we reached the end of the spur and continued down to the river.
After a few indiscretions and wasted time we reached the Waiohine river. I was surprised that we hadn't come out at Dorset creek because that was the route I had come down last time. Dave was interested to hear this as he always comes out south of Dorset. The river was low and in about half an hour we reached Park forks. After lunch in the sun we continued up to Carkeek.
We lazed in the sun on the helicopter pad. Dave talked to someone in the South Island on his radio while I was scanning Nichols with my binoculars looking for a T.T.C party that was meant to be coming to Carkeek.
We retired early for dinner and while I was making the cheesecake I looked out the door and saw someone coming down the ridge. The solo tramper was Alastair Christie, a bit of a radio buff, so Dave knew him. He had made his own vhf/hf radio. I also learnt that he was helping out with comms for the S.A.R.E.X.
Alastair was heading for Nichols so he followed us down the ridge the next morning. About 25 minutes from the hut we passed the T.T.C party. They had spent the night at Park forks and had left one of their party down there.
At Park forks we left Alastair and went down the river. This time we went up the ridge from Dorset creek. The track is well defined and a lot easier to follow up than down. We made very good time to McGregor biv.
The weather was shit on the tops so we put on our storm gear and made haste to Jumbo for lunch. From here it was a stroll out to Holdsworth road end.
Home was via the oasis of McDonalds Upper Hutt and a Mega feast and Fillet o' Fish combo (But McD's are an evil manifestation of capitalist greed and, more importantly, their food sucks. How could you?-ed)
All in all it was a successful weekend. In and out of Carkeek and off to work on Monday for double time and a day in lieu. An alright substitute for 3 days of Telemarking and I heard the skiing was poor on Labour weekend.
Saturday morning dawned fine, just like Friday, with views of Holdsworth and the Eastern range from just south of Martinborough where I was staying. This meant only a short drive to Holdsworth road end and I was there at 7am to register and go through the gear check. The race officials make sure competitors have polypro top and bottoms, hat and gloves, a jacket and a survival blanket. I saw Dave and Craig at the road end but they weren't running, they were with Craig's brother as his support crew. As I went for a warm up run I could look up and see Powell hut from the road end for the first time.
The race started at 8am and I took off to the front so I could cross the bridge over the Atiwhakatu before the crowd of 150 starters arrived. As soon as I hit the uphill to Powell my pace dropped. I was struggling on the uphill and didn't feel too good. Not to worry though I thought because it normally takes me about 20 minutes to warm up in these runs. A great horde of runners was passing me as I dropped back to around 20th place. As I reached Rocky lookout I heard someone behind me calling my name. I looked back to see Jonathan McNab pass me, he used to run cross country with me at college. This really put my spirits down and I thought that getting to Powell in sub 1 hour time was looking impossible.
The temperature in the bush was bloody hot but as we got higher the wind increased and kept it at a nice level. I was still struggling up above Mountain House and not feeling as good as last year. Just near the bush line I got a bit of an energy burst and tried to give the sub hour a go. I hit the bushline at 57 minutes and although it seems quite close to the hut there is still a bit of a climb through the boulders. Just short of the hut I caught up to 3 other runners and relaxed a bit, getting to Powell in 1 hour and 2 minutes.
Above Powell I started to feel more energetic and with the clear conditions I could see a line of runners in front of me. I increased my pace quite a bit and caught Jonathan McNab just below Holdsworth Trig. He got ahead of me again and I followed him across to Jumbo. There are about 3 big ups and downs and all the way across I could see a group of runners just ahead of me. The wind was a strong westerly which cooled us down nicely, it could have been dangerously hot without the wind.
Running down to Jumbo hut from the peak I passed a few runners and caught up to McNab again. We passed through the hut in about 1hr 54min and took off down Rain Gauge spur. We ripped down at quite a fast pace and I was nearly over several times. We passed about 3 people coming down and went through Atiwhakatu hut in 2hr 13 min.
From here it was 7.5 km undulating to the finish with legs like jelly
after the 700m drop from Jumbo. I left McNab behind and picked up another
runner after another couple of kilometres. This left a group of 3 of us
running out. They both passed me at Donnelly flat with 2 km to go but I
was quite shagged by then. I ended up finishing in 2hr 51min, 14 minutes
better than last year and in 14th. The winner did 2hr 26 min and Colin
Rolfe finished 2nd, looking good for another victory in the Southern Crossing
race this year.