Solo attempt of the South Face of Taranaki

Taranaki, at 2,518m is the second highest mountain in the North Island. It’s also second in another statistic… of all the mountains in New Zealand, Taranaki rates as the second deadliest after Aoraki-Mt Cook. Its proximity to the coast brings with it rapidly changing weather, a reputation for nasty rime ice, and its picturesque conical shape belies the steepness of its upper slopes. Add to this its easy accessibility and you have a potentially dangerous mix. I have made two previous spring attempts on the South Face with neither resulting in the bagging of a summit. On both occasions, day trips from my home in at the time in Wanganui,  the cloud rolled in quickly from the sea and the spring corn snow began to quickly freeze over and with the prospect of absolutely zero view at the summit I turned tail and headed down again.

In October 2014, I headed back again.

I’ve always had a dream of trekking in the Himalayas but until recently hadn’t really thought much about whether doing any serious climbing was a possibility without the expense and time commitment of joining an expedition to one of the more well-known peaks. Earlier this year, I decided that the time had come to put dreams into reality. After a bit of research and talking about the experiences of a work colleague (who was also part of my Oxfam Trailwalker team) who climbed Island Peak / Imja Tse in April I figured out a plan, found an agency and booked myself a trip. So, in late March 2015, I head to Nepal for a three week trek of the Everest Base Camp circuit and finish it off with an attempt on the summit of 6,119m Lobuche East.

Better do some serious training then…

I pencilled in a weekend in October to return to Taranaki. My plan was to set out from Dawson Falls Visitor Centre (900m) on a Friday afternoon and ascend up to Syme Hut atop Fanthams Peak at 1,960m. That would allow plenty of time for a morning attempt on the summit via the South Face before returning to Dawson Falls.

Early in the week a late winter storm cycle blasted up the country and I didn’t commit myself until the day before. This same week, there were daily news articles online on the inquest into the deaths of two climbers caught out by a rapid change in the weather close to the summit. This gave a grim reminder that Taranaki is not a mountain to ever be taken lightly.

With such a relaxed schedule there was no rush to get up the mountain. I treated it like any other workday, getting up at my usual time. Before hitting the road there was time to hit up iconic Wellington eatery Floriditas for some of their amazing bacon and eggs. Just the ticket to fill the stomach before an uneventful four hour drive to Dawson Falls. Not surprisingly, the naming feature of my destination is a waterfall. A very pretty, 18m high drop in the midst of some beautiful native bush.  Very much worth the short walk down, and then back up again for some photos before hitting the trail proper. 

I had been half expecting to arrive to an empty carpark. But with some fairly nice weather on one of the last days of the school holidays, the carpark and visitor centre was a hive of activity. Mostly day-trippers out for picnics though, and as I kitted up my climbing gear attracted questions from curious children and adults alike. Things quickly quietened though.  Stepping into the bush away was like stepping out of civilization. I encountered one person on the track after 10 minutes, but they would be the last person I’d see until the next afternoon.

The climb up from Dawson Falls is a bit of a prick really. It is a constant climb, and some bureaucrat has had the wisdom to basically build steps all the way up to about 1,700m. An annoying feature going up… absolutely hell on the knees coming down!! But the scenery is enough to take the mind of the regulatory nature of how each step must be taken. For the first couple of hundred metres, the track ascends through moist ‘goblin’ forest of native trees shrouded in moss before transitioning to sub-alpine scrub that gets lower and lower until the steps finish and the scoria slopes begin. The best part of the next hour was basically a grovel of one step forwards and half a step backwards on the loose scoria until reaching solid snow and ice and finally the crampons could go on.

The first snow climb up to Fanthams Peak brought back some good feelings. It had been over 12 years since I’d done any serious climbing but my French technique came back to me just like riding a bike. There’d be no front points through clothing or flesh today! I had left late enough in the day that the snow was firm and crisp under foot and as I reached the top of Fanthams Peak, the sun was low in the sky, silhouetting Syme Hut off in the distance quite magically.

I was a little bit relieved that the hut was completely exposed. If visiting for the first time, it pays to know where the door is, as it is often buried under snow or a coating of heavy ice. On my last visit I had to spend a good half hour digging my way into the top half of the split barn style doors. I also had the hut to myself, the first visitor for two weeks according to the hut intention book. Settling in, I boiled up some water in my new Jetboil Flash and sat down to a dinner of delicious Back Country Cuisine roast chicken and mashed potato, washed down with a cold can of Heineken (a straggler that had fallen out of my golf bag at some point and was still rolling around the car boot. Why not I thought… what’s another 400gm to carry up if it means I can enjoy a cold beer with dinner after an afternoon hiking!). 

After dinner it was out with the camera gear to capture the sunset… one of the other reasons I’d planned to spend the night up here instead of making a rushed day visit.

As I turned in for the night I set my alarm for 4:30am reasoning that if I make a nice early alpine start, I should be treated to a spectacular sunrise up on the high slopes too. It does take a bit of effort to extract oneself from a nice warm sleeping bag, especially when the condensation has frozen on the inside of the huts windows. I got myself moving though and set off under headlamp to just the sound of a light wind and crunching of boots on snow.

From Syme Hut, the route descends 60m to Rangitoto Flat before the climb proper begins. I had a choice here to tackle the South Face directly or to sidle a bit to the west to Skeets Ridge. Given that the going was already quite icy I decided that the best option was to stick to the South Face. 

After an hour of climbing the sun began to crack the eastern horizon and I paused for a moment to take in the beautiful pink glow of the mountain below me. This was pretty much the highlight of the morning. From about 2,200m I entered Taranaki’s notorious rime ice garden.

As I ascended higher and higher, the ice beneath my feet became increasing more brittle. With rime ice forming in thin layers, it reached the point where every second or third foot placement would result in the top layer breaking away and my foot slipping an inch or two before the crampon teeth would bite. At around 2,400m, just 100m or so below the crater rim (from which the summit would be easily attainable) I found myself again in a situation of questioning just how badly I wanted to reach the summit. Here I was on a slope of between 45 and 50 degrees steep with exposure that meant a fall would have very serious consequences. Serious injury was a certainty… death a very likely possibility. If I could place protection, the risks would be manageable, but I was climbing solo and light, so I made the decision to bail and head down. It was a shame on such a beautiful morning to be turning around but the mountain will always be here and I will just have to keep returning until the conditions all fall in my favour.

The downclimb was frustratingly slow. With the slope too steep and icy to comfortably walk down  it was face in to the slope and three points of contact at all times back down through the rime garden. At this point I regretted only bringing a single ice axe. Having two tools would have made this section so much quicker. The first 150m of descent took nearly an hour and a half, through which I focused on reaching a small depression in the slope where I could take off my pack and rest for a bit. Below this point I could walk normally again and the next 200m of descent took only 20mins. The last 50m or so back to Rangitoto Flat offered up a safe run-out area so it was down on the bum for a fun and fast little glissade. 

Safely reaching Syme Hut again, I brewed up a coffee and sat in the sun to reflect on the choices that I’d made. I’m happy that they were the right choices for the conditions though.

After packing up all my surplus gear that I’d left in the hut whilst climbing, I set back off for the long descent back to Dawson Falls. No more than 15 minutes after leaving I came across two groups heading up. I’d picked my days right. Friday night I’d had the hut to myself… Saturday night was looking like it was going to be a little crowded.

I encountered another group at the Hooker Shelter just above the bushline. Three middle aged women all laden down with packs that looked like they contained enough provisions for a month. We got to talking and they were headed into Lake Dive Hut for the night. They seemed a little incredulous when they asked where I’d come from and I said Syme Hut after attempting the summit this morning. They were only just sitting down for lunch and I was pretty much done for the day!

I was pretty shattered by the time I made it back down to Dawson Falls. Not much sleep followed by seven hours of good honest physical exertion meant I wasn’t exactly looking forward to another four hours in the car driving back to Wellington. I did feel that I’d earned myself a sneaky feed of McDonalds in Wanganui on the way!

Edit: A short video from the climb...

Mt. Taranaki - October 2014 from Adrian Rumney on Vimeo.

Gear:

Rough gear list for this climb:

Scarpa Mont Blanc GTX boots;

Black Diamond Epic 45 pack

CAMP Ice Rider Fast crampons

Grivel Jorasses ice axe

Black Diamond Couloir harness

Black Diamond Vector Helmet

Mammut Masao shell jacket

Black Diamond Stance Belay Hoody jacket

Marmot Tamarack shell pants

Macpac Solstice sleeping bag

First Aid Kit

Icebreaker merino beanie

Rab Latok Alpine gaiters

Rab Latok gloves

Macpac Stretch gloves

Garmin Etrex 20 gps

Kathmandu headlamp

Black Diamond Orbit lantern

Jetboil Flash (with coffee press!!) cooker

Macpac and Icebreaker thermal underwear (top and bottom)

Black Diamond Deploy 3 snow shovel

Julbo Pipeline L sunglasses

Black Diamond Ultra Distance trekking poles

2 x Macpac 1L water bottle

Jetboil fuel,

Coffee mug

Food – 3 days worth of Back Country cuisine freeze dried, a couple of pork pies, coffee, 1 bar of chocolate and snacks (dried fruit and jetplanes)

Canon 40D camera

Benro carbon tripod

Various filters, spare batteries.

Rimutaka Super Loop

I had never even heard of the Whakanui Track until this year’s Wellington Xterra trail running series headed in there for round two. After suffering myself through the 12km run in some spectacular bush I decided that I must head back here at a more leisurely pace to do some further exploring.

Over the next couple of weeks I pored over maps, websites and online trip reports and pieced together what looked to be a challenging but achievable loop that would take in the Whakanui Track, the Big Bend Track and then the McKerrow Track. According to DOC’s recommended times, this was an undertaking of between 13 and 14 hours but in the back of my mind I was thinking, at a good pace, should be able to be knocked out in 7 to 9 hours of slog.

Picking a weekend day that would offer up some favourable weather seemed to be the biggest problem given that winter was fast approaching. I got lucky though, and set out from the trailhead in Sunny Grove, Wainuiomata in a frosty -1degC, rising quickly above the mist that was hanging low in the valley. 

Looking back over a frosty Wainuiomata from the Whakanui Track.

A big consideration when prepping was the nagging thought of what if the DOC time indications were a closer of the time this hike would actually take? Just in case I’d added in an extra warm layer, some spare food and a headlamp. My concerns were quickly allayed though. Setting out, the first sign indicated that I would reach the Whakanui track in 30 mins… I got there in under 11 mins at just a steady walking pace. 

The grind up to the highest point of the Whakanui was made easier by the fact that it was such a beautiful morning, and not having to (attempt to) run it meant I could pause repeatedly to take in the sounds of the native forest and to snap off a few photos.  There are numerous signs reminding you that you are in Kiwi country and it was a little saddening to recall that despite all the reminders, only a few weeks earlier a dead kiwi, the victim of an unleashed dog, was found in this very area (http://www.gw.govt.nz/protect-kiwis-from-your-dog-in-wainuiomata/). 

Just one of many reminders that you are in the heart of a Kiwi recovery project.

The other signs that were very evident was that of deer. Every few metres there seemed to be clumps of fur on tree trunks and branches and hoof prints in the mud. This made me just a tad nervous! It was still the ‘roar’… prime hunting season and as I had pulled up to the trailhead, a hunter was just setting out. Knowing that he was just 10 minutes or so ahead of me and that no doubt his eye was much more attuned to seeing such animal activity, I just had to hope that he, and any other hunters in the area, were responsible enough to not be looking to bag an easy kill.

Whakanui Track

The only other time I’ve seen a wild deer has been at quite some distance on the lower slopes of Ruapehu, above Horopito. So easily the highlight of this walk was coming around a bend on the steep descent down to the Orongorongo River and coming face to face with a young stag no more than 20 metres away. We both stopped and stared straight at each other. Me thinking WOW! and him letting off a steamy snort. After just a second or two, but what seemed much longer, he vanished… crashing off into the bush. Instantly my nervousness about gun-toting cowboys looking for that easy kill returned and I half expected to feel the searing impact of a high calibre bullet rip through my body at any moment. Nope… all good and after another 15 minutes I was down beside the river, having successfully tackled the first of today’s two big hills.

Amazing native bush on the descent to the Orongorongo River valley.

The second ‘third’ of this walk was a gentle sidle for 40 minutes or so along the Big Bend track which follows the Orongorongo River until linking up at Hump Bridge with the popular Orongorongo track, that connects the river with the main Catchpool Valley entrance to the park. 

Big Bend Track

Swing bridge on the Big Bend Track

After the wilderness experience of the Whakanui where I had seen no-one and the only human engineered sounds were the occasional plane overhead, the river valley was positively urban. Dozens of four wheel drive owners were using the stony riverbed to either access the numerous huts or just for a day out burning fossil fuels and someone else was doing something on the other side of the river involving an incredibly loud chainsaw. I just put my head down, stuffed some marshmallows in my mouth and did my best to admire the views across to Mt Matthews, the park’s high point.

The Orongorongo River and heart of the Rimutaka Forest Park.

Hump Bridge across the picturesque Turere Stream, represented a rough half-way point, and a good spot for a sit down and more substantial bite to eat. Lunch was the guilty pleasure of a pork pie and can of Dr Pepper… fat, salt and sugar. Not very nutritional but pretty satisfying on a walk like this. This was also the popular point for accessing the river with a number of large groups of hikers crossing the bridge above me as I rested.

Hump Bridge over the Turere Stream.

After 10 minutes up the well graded and metalled Orongorongo Track I saw the sign that marked the final ‘third’ of this outing, indicating the start of the McKerrow Track. This was a blink and you could miss it moment. There was no track junction to speak of, just a an orange track marker nailed on a tree up a bank that required a bit of grabbing tree roots and hauling oneself up to access. This was pretty much the going for the next hour and a half… a steep and gnarly climb up to the ridge that would lead to the Mt McKerrow ridge. 

This was tough but somewhat enjoyable stuff. It was pretty clear that not too many people put themselves through this level of suffering. The quality of the track didn’t really improve until the junction with Clay Ridge track which leads back down to the Catchpool Valley park entrance and campground. After a few more minutes and only a bit more vertical climb the summit of Mt McKerrow was attained at 706m above sea level. 

This was another blink and you miss it moment. The summit itself is enclosed in bush and offers no views, and it is marked by a rusty pipe sticking out of the ground. If you didn’t know that this was a “mountain”, then it would be pretty easy to pass by and merely wonder what on earth possessed someone to poke a pipe in the ground in such an odd location! Five minutes or so either side of the summit though, there are windfall clearings in the bush that offer an incredible vista across Wellington Harbour and to the city off in the distance. 

Summit marker on Mt Mckerrow

Descending off McKerrow was like negotiating a minefield with lots of boot sucking mud now being the main characteristic of the track. Here my trekking poles came in handy for sussing out potentially solid ground ahead of each step. This slowed the pace a bit, but any thoughts of being out here after dark were now well and truly behind me. For me anyway… at about 3:30pm I did come across a chap who was heading up and who didn’t seem too perturbed to be told that the summit was still about an hour away. With only an hour and maybe a bit more of good light available I hope he was prepared! There were no news reports of anyone missing… so all good.

After the McKerrow track linked back up with the Whakanui I was back on familiar ground. In fact I was still feeling good enough to break into a bit of a jog to liven up the relentless descent. Things were getting pretty dark in the trees and the winter shadows long when I made it back to the car around 4pm.

All up from start to finish: 7hrs 46min (5hr 12min moving time)

Distance: 25.1km 

Vertical Ascent: 1,606m

http://www.strava.com/activities/147512001
 

A shout out must go to the tireless volunteers of the Rimutaka Forest Park Trust. Their vision for protecting and restoring the unique flora and fauna of the park and their  efforts in supporting DOC to trap mustelids and rats, are a massive contributor to why Kiwi can be re-introduced to the area. 

Check them out… http://www.rimutakatrust.org.nz/  and support them! 

I think $25 to sponsor a trap is a small price to pay for being able to enjoy such an incredible day out on the doorstep of our capital city.

Hard work for bitter disappointment

In April I discovered that  soul destroying feeling of training hard for something and then failing to achieve it.

A couple of years back whilst enjoying a few drinks with work colleagues after the annual relay run around Lake Taupo, I suggested the 100km Oxfam Trailwalker as a possible challenge for the future. With a few drinks inside us, there was some doubt expressed that I would ever walk 100km, something that I took as a personal affront, and a bet was born. After much persuasion I managed to get together three other colleagues to form a team, and with the support of some others who were keen to help out, we began the task of fundraising and training for the 2014 event.

TRAINING

Walking 100km is a pretty big ask for anyone. Doing it as a team adds a whole other dynamic. The obvious positive is that you have the support and encouragement of teammates who share a common goal and vested interest to help motivate each other to keep going. The big unknown though was how our own individual strengths and weaknesses would be discovered and managed.

Individually we all had our own training schedules to  build base fitness. But we also planned two weekend sessions together to test ourselves as a team. Importantly these also gave our support crew, the opportunity to practice how they would handle the logistics of the transitions. And I do need to stress that the support crew are as integral a part of the team as any of the walkers are.

The first training weekend in February involved a two stage, 72km route. Starting after work on a Friday evening we walked the Rimutaka Rail Trail and then down the western side of Lake Wairarapa to one of the team's weekend house, arriving just before 1am. Spirits were pretty high and we smashed out the Rail Trail section at a fast but comfortable pace before popping on the iPods for the monotonous second half along Western Lake Road with only our headlamps lighting the way.

After a few hours sleep, we awoke to the sound of heavy rain. It had subsided a bit by the time we had a hearty breakfast and hit the road for leg 2 - a 34 km walk down to Ocean Beach and then along the coast back to the end of the Wainuiomata coast road. Spirits weren't quite as high. The rain was off and on for the whole day and a cold southerly made for testing conditions. One of the team was struggling with blisters and I was putting on a chipper front and staying silent about the nasty chaffing that I had from hours of walking in damp clothes.

Another character building feature of the day was the track signage. At one point we passed a sign indicating 10km to the Wainuiomata coast car park and I got in that frame of mind of counting down the kilometres as I felt my Garmin GPS watch vibrate as each one passed. Silly move... I was battling the weather, in pain from the chafing and thoroughly over it. Three, two and then one kilometres to go and my mood lifted a bit but then as kilometre zero approached there was no sign of the promised carpark that would signal food, warmth and shelter from the weather. The zero point in my mind passed, and then we got to plus one kilometre, plus two, plus three.... My spirit had gone completely. The 10km sign was a blatant lie. But I battled on and eventually the cars at the end of the track came into sight some 14.4km after the lying sign.

Despite the war wounds that we each took away from the weekend, it was an encouraging confirmation of our shared abilities and ability to work well together as a team. For the second team training we committed to a single day endurance effort. We set ourselves a course from Peka Peka Beach to Paekakariki and return. The terrain of this course was pretty easy but it promised a solid 12 hour plus day of walking.

Luckily the weather for this one was a lot nicer than the Wairarapa outing. A beautiful day in fact. We set out at 7am and made it back to the cars just before 8pm... 12hrs 50min and 67km later. I was a lot more diligent about chafing this time around, applying Lanacane at every stop to avoid any problems. Thought I might have got away completely injury free until I first noticed that feeling of a blister less than 3km from the finish.

 

So that was the big training efforts. We felt ready to tackle 100km in two weeks time. Until then there was only fitness to maintain and fundraising to do. I got roped into this a bit more than the others. One idea was to shave off my beard for charity, but a counter offer saw my hair go and the beard stay in a lunchtime bbq / all comers have a chop of my hair for a donation. It was a bit of fun that saw over $500 donated. All up we managed to fundraise about $4,800 for Oxfam as part of our participation in the Trailwalker event.

EVENT DAY

The concept of Oxfam Trailwalker is pretty simple. Teams of four walk together over eight legs, covering 100km in under 36 hours. The average team takes a shade over 25hrs, and we set a conservative target of 24hrs to aim for. Start time in Kinloch was 6am. This meant that the first hour or so was in the dark, but also maximised the daylight hours which we felt was more advantageous than the later 7am start.

The whole atmosphere of the event is fantastic. Other teams and the hundreds of volunteers along the route all offer encouragment. Our support crew did a fantastic job of preparing food and drinks, sorting gear and nagging supportively to ensure that we all ate, drank, stretched, changed socks and then got moving again in a timely manner at each transition.

The course was great as well. Stretches of native bush at from the start became open farmland, a big climb, quiet rural roads and then long stretches through pine forests, skirting some of Taupo's thermal areas. Other than a brief bad patch about 40km in when the effects of the hot afternoon sun rattled me for a couple of kilometres, I felt pretty good. We all did and we we steadily ticked off the kilometres with the halfway banners at 50km passing in the late afternoon. Suddenly for me, things changed for the worse.

I had woken up on the Thursday before the event with a stuffed nose and all the symptoms of an impending cold. They didn't worsen though and didn't really bother me at all for over 50km and 9 hours of walking. Then it all changed. A headache and dizziness appeared out of nowhere. In the space of five or ten minutes I went from comfortably chugging along to it being a battle just to put one foot in front of the other. I felt on the verge of passing out and actually thought that it was a distinct possibility that I would. After confiding to my teammates that things weren't good they stayed positive and encouraged me to push on but their eyes couldn't disguise their concern for my well being. As we reached the next transition at Taupo's domain I knew that my Oxfam Trailwalker was over. Despite the encouragement of the others to continue I knew that it was unlikely I would make it much further and we were on track for a really good time and I did not want to slow the team down.

I had come into this knowing I had the fitness to complete 100km and it was heart breaking to be defeated by a sinus infection after 54km. As my teammates all prepped at the transition to head out on the next leg I don't think that my sunglasses masked the tears of disappointment that had overwhelmed me. So whilst I saw out the remainder of Trailwalker in a sleeping bag in the back of the van, the rest of the team trekked on into the night and finished in the wee small hours coming in a fantastic 39th out of 265 teams.

I left Taupo with some unfinished business. I will be back though.

The sinus infection turned out to be pretty nasty. A couple of times I thought I had shaken it but then after each of this year's Xterra runs I relapsed pretty badly. Finally after two months, some strong antibiotics and an enforced lay-off I think I made it back to a healthy state.

Goats and Tussock Traverses

 THE GOAT TONGARIRO 2013

Returning from Europe, it was time to focus on perhaps the most ambitious fitness goal I set myself in 2013, The Goat – a 20km run on the side of Mt Ruapehu between Whakapapa and Turoa ski fields. I was under no illusions that this was going to be a tough race but I don’t think any level of preparation would have left me ready for just how tough.

The weather forecast wasn’t great and the organisation team doing the registration gear checks seemed to be quite diligent  that people were carrying the compulsory items of wet and cold weather clothing. It’s very easy to scoff at compulsory items as being an unnecessary burden at trail running events, until of course you get a day that you actually need to use that jacket, gloves and beanie [I hope never to have to use the safety blanket] that they insist you carry. Goat Saturday 2013 was one of those days. 

Pre-start at Whakapapa village was a thick pea-soup of freezing cloud and misty rain. Every man and his dog sought shelter in the cafe until as near to start time as possible. Conditions never really improved. Wind chill was a reported -6 or -7... not the summer conditions everyone had hoped for. And all the rain made for freezing cold stream crossings and mud. Lots of mud! 

This was pretty much the only photo I could find of myself in action, albeit through a very rain soaked lens. Kudos to the photographer for sticking it out in those conditions!!

The mud was incredible and it made for really slow going. At one point I dropped off a small bank into what looked like a normal ankle deep puddle, only to disappear up to nearly my chest in freezing cold water and thick mud.

By the time I reached the infamous rock scramble up the waterfall just a few kilometres from the finish, I was in a pretty bad place. Physically I was hurting a lot. Thanks to the cold, after every stream crossing my legs began cramping pretty badly and mentally I'd had enough. Thanks to an observant marshal who could see my hurt, and a dose of the cramp stop she was carrying with her, I got some respite and battled on. 

 Finally reaching the Turoa carpark and the finish line brought a massive wave of relief. The cold Mountain Goat beer and hot burger that they dished up was really appreciated. But there was no time to linger. Despite throwing on dry, warm clothes the cold just would not go away and like many of the other runners, I was showing early signs of hypothermia. It was down the mountain as quickly as possible for a long hot shower and a quick nap before the prizegiving.

I apologise to whoever had to clean my motel room. The black volcanic sand just seemed to come out of every item of clothing and bodily orifice.

On a good day I can knock out a half-marathon in around 2:10. Not fast but respectable enough for a fat bastard such as myself. Today the 20km and 1,350 vertical metres of the Goat took 4:50. It was that tough.  Surely the conditions can't be that bad two years in a row though. I'll be back in 2014.


TUSSOCK TRAVERSE 2014

Six weeks on from the Goat and it was back to Mt Ruapehu, this time for the 26km Tussock Traverse run from the Tukino access road to the Chateau Tongariro in Whakapapa village. Unlike the Goat weekend, this time there was the promise of sunshine and light winds.

It was a long bus ride around to the start on the Tukino side of the mountain where the run started with a 2km grunt up the ski field access road before dropping down into the moon like terrain of the Rangipo alpine desert.

The first 10 kilometres was through this barren landscape before the gin clear Ohinepango stream signalled a short bush section. At this point the heat of the January summer sun was starting to be a factor. And that stream looked so inviting but I resisted the urge for a quick swim.

After another four kilometres, and with a big climb looming, I did take a short detour off the course to a nearby stream. By this stage it was hot... really hot! A quick dunk of my head in the cold water was just the refreshing relief that I needed before tackling what was a relentless climb, followed quickly by another just like it.

I had no real idea of what the terrain was going to be like in this one. I've done a lot of tramping on and around Ruapehu, but never on this side of the Tama Lakes. In doing my research I'd found a couple of GPS logs from people who'd done the run previously. One suggested around 700m of vertical ascent and the other less than 400m. That's quite a bit of variation and both sounded a bit on the light side for a run of this length on the side of the North Island's highest mountain. Sure enough, my own data file when downloaded came up with closer to 1,000 VAM, a figure that corresponds with the pain I was feeling in my legs afterwards!

The heat and the relentless climbs took there toll and I found myself battling for the last 6 or 7km. But as I got past the Tama Lakes, I got back onto tracks that I was familiar with. Passing Taranaki Falls and knowing exactly what lay ahead gave me a little confidence boost to push through the pain barrier and enjoy the last bush section before popping out into the tussock again and the welcome sight of the Chateau Tongariro which marked the finish line.

A cold beer in the sunshine later and I could reflect back on how far I'd come compared to the state I'd let myself get into a year earlier.

Time for another challenge. The focus moves away from running for a bit and towards walking. In just two months time, a team of us from work plan to take on the 100km Oxfam Trailwalker event... the result of a drunken bet I'd made with another work colleague that I would never walk 100km.