Mt White

The CTC swarms up Mt White

We went along to join up with a CTC party on a day trip to Mt White (Puketeraki L34 256 978). The trip was graded Moderate, but most of the eighteen that turned up looked more toward the Hard end of the spectrum. However there were a couple of newcomers too.

The whole team were: Steve Bruerton, John Henzell, Joy Bryant, Adrian Sullivan, Lynnette Hartley, Jeff Hall, Alan Ross, Jenny Harlow, Ian Dunn, Bernard Parawa, Todd Ellis, Clive Marsh, Peter Langland, Paul Beaman, David Ellison-Smith, Andrew Tromans, Honora and me.

Honora and I had packed for the whole weekend, rather than just for the day trip. Driving 160 km each way for only a day seems such a waste. We were going to carry on and do our own mission when the others headed home to their couches.

At Mt White station we got a friendly welcome. This was especially appreciated as there was supposed to be some sort of Federated Farmers' political protest involving locked gates this weekend. Federated Farmers had told property owners to lock their gates to 'townies' and hang an orange ribbon on them. Apparently this was to put pressure on the government to pay them to let the public continue crossing their farms to get to rivers etc the way they have for generations. However it can't have been much of a success as none of us saw any orange ribbons on the long drive to Mt White.

So off we went up the hill. Quite a serious pace was set right from the bottom too. The field was soon well spread with about 300 m from front-runner to tail-ender. Tramping with the CTC is definitely more for sport than recreation. I wondered if anyone had a chance to notice the changes in the varieties of vegetation they were rushing through.

The first pause was 900 m higher at a flattening on the ridge at 1529 m. This was designated the lunch stop though it wasn't quite into the afternoon yet.

However it became a very brief lunch. After 15 minutes some complained they were getting cold and wanted to go on. I hadn't noticed anyone other than Honora and me layer up when we stopped. We prefer to make our lunch stops, and all our time in the hills, enjoyable. I think we were the only ones with hot water with us too.

But anyway, everyone rushed on again after only 20 minutes. So we gulped down half our lunch and followed.

From here to the top it started to seem a bit more like a mountain than sheep country. The slope was mostly snow covered too. I was still wearing my sandals but the snow was soft enough for me to leave my boots in my pack.

On the summit the view really opened up. Joy Bryant's smile was pretty wide too. Some might have just gone along for the workout, but Joy really looked like she was enjoying being there.

Honora and I had a great time too noting all the summits we'd been on right round 360 degrees. Even Turnbull way to the north stood out clearly. I realised I'd actually walked the entire visible sky-line for 270 degrees around us.

Honora gave a few people some snow skills refresher coaching on the snow slope just off the summit.

Adrian Sullivan is an old hand in the snow and could be coaching people in the 'self-arrest' technique himself, but he didn't miss the chance to sharpen his own reflexes.

Having got up to the summit so quickly it seems a few were keen to extend the journey into a round trip. They moved off heading further along the summit ridge. It was a while before all the laggards noticed so they had to go hard to catch up.

Along the ridge Honora and I had a good chance to look down into Boundary Stream. We'd tramped through there a couple of times in the early nineties.

The ridge ran nor'nor'east for two km to point 1604. From there a spur dropped off to the east. We followed this down, 900m over two km to Mt White station's Esk Valley road.

It was a take-no-prisoners descent. Everyone arrived at the road the same - red-faced and overheated.

The only thing left was the seven km march out along the muddy 4x4 road. After rounding the end of White Spur the end was in sight, with the light of day fading by the minute above the darkening silhouette of Mt Binser.

Crepuscular gloom turned to darkness as we packed into the cars and headed off. At the Mt White turn-off, all the cars except us turned left heading back to the city. Honora and I turned right toward Arthurs Pass. It usually seems sad heading home after a trip. But this time we could leave that for another day and head straight off on another one.