King William II, Slatters Peak 2012 Mar

At Fisherman’s Camp I relaxed a tiny bit. I made sure I was always in the first three (of nine) and, concentrating on that job kept all other pack pains and fears away. I raced through the thick button grass, righting myself with celerity if I fell in a mud hole, fearful of failure.

Soon enough it was time to attack the real ascent. Up and up we climbed. The bush was super thick. You couldn’t see the person three metres in front. I clung desperately to the rear end of the man ahead of me. The trouble was, these were guys with huge, strong legs, and I was trying to keep pace with them as we hauled ourselves up a near vertical rise, using saplings and shrubs to pull ourselves upwards on the mighty slope. My real problems were the fallen trunks and horizontal scrub or piles of debris with branches jutting out to catch you that they could breeze over but that I had to climb with some effort. I could hear myself grunting like Victoria Azarenka with every single haul. The others said M was grunting too. S’s face was twisted with effort. The guys seemed relaxed.

This kept up for two more hours (six in all so far), at the end of which we reached a kind of waterfall-cum-chimney that we needed to ascend. The first bit was even steeper than what we’d done (as near to vertical as you can get in the terrain), and there was one very tricky bit in the middle with few foot (or finger) holds, and with water coming down the rock we were to climb. I grabbed a tiny shrub with the left hand, a patch of grassy stuff with the right. My feet, however, slipped out from under me so I was hanging from the cliff by shrubbery, water rushing past my chest, and a drop below that was considerable. I looked down at one stage and could see M and S’s faces staring up at me – their features were strained with fear, their eyes large. Rod, a nice guy, not from our club, grabbed my wrist and yelled for help, as he couldn’t hold me and he was terrified I’d loosen my grip with fatigue and fall. W (from the club) came back and helped him get my pack off (VERY tricky). Once that weight was gone, I could complete the climb. G got out a rope and did a pack haul for my pack, plus those of S and M. Like me, once they’d lost the weighty packs they were able to complete the climb. We’d just been going for so long and it was all so steep and strenuous that the three of us had lost strength by that stage.
Once we were up, the rest was easy. We danced along to our selected campsite in a wonderful tarn-filled valley at the foot of Slatters Peak. I chose a spot that had the mountain reflected in water visible from my tent ‘window’. Before it got dark, we spent another hour and a half climbing and descending Slatters. The views were stupendous.

Back at the campsite, we cooked dinner in the fading light. I made a tactical error, as I chatted for too long with the wind ripping through from behind (my feet were still sodden from the day’s activities) and all of a sudden I realised that my core temperature had plummeted right under. My feet never warmed up during the night. I shivered the whole time, despite sleeping in icebreaker, Helly Hanson, fiibrepile, beanie, possum gloves, wollen socks, and Helly longs, with my down jacket over my sleeping bag to add an extra layer, and my overpants over my feet. M and S reported that they, too, shivered all night.

Anyway, thus clad we reached the next mountain safely (we had now climbed Mt King William II and a point that is apparently higher, namely, IIb, which has become the true Abel, as it is the highest point on the range, and not the black dot representing King William II). That afternoon it was still raining, and I did not dare to use my trangia inside the tent, so said ‘goodbye’ at 3 p.m, knowing I would get no dinner. I sat in my tent for the rest of the day wearing my lovely dry down jacket, possum gloves and wollen socks that had been saved for nights. Every now and then the rain eased and I poked my head out the tent. The view remained wonderful!

Day Three: Next day, we got to slide down the mountain. I had an absolute blast. Everyone agreed not to use that dangerous route of the first day, and so what we did was controlled sliding down 800 ms of mountain using gullies filled with large pineapple grass plants – wonderfully slippery when wet. Such fun. The rain stopped and the sun came out. I loved it. Eventually we made it to the car. I could barely believe I was still alive and had finished.

Despite some less than pleasant moments, I am thrilled I did the walk. It was a challenge that I kind of met. I’m delighted to have seen those views, summitted those peaks (all three), made the acquaintance of some new, wonderful people, and survived my first ever walk where I had to carry absolutely everything myself.