Other formats

    Adobe Portable Document Format file (facsimile images)   TEI XML file   ePub eBook file  

Connect

    mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 68

Sunday

Sunday.

Started at about six in the morning on the return journey with the idea that the thorough rest and perfect acclimatisation experienced to Alpine climbing, would see this night's camp on the banks of the Clinton and therefore over the Pass. Very good progress made up the Roaring Creek bed, and after keeping to it until it was thought safe and correct to leave it, the creek was left at right angles, and the ascent of the Pass began. The bed of a dry tributory creek was taken, which after a little while became very steep; the ascent was continued, however, but as the bed of this dry creek now became smooth steep rock, impossible to negotiate, its sides had to be used, where, by means of bush, it was possible to pull oneself up. The grade kept on increasing until it was almost a case of "hanging on by one's eyebrows," and the higher the ascent the worse it got; in some cases the rocks wore overhanging, and but for plenty of scrub and grass by which to hold on and pull oneself up by, it could not have been attempted. Proof was now apparent that the Roaring Creek bed had been left too early, and that the journey ought to have been continued up its bed until the base of Balloon Peak was reached.

[N.B.—The proper and only way to safely ascend this side is to go up the Roaring Creek bed until the base of Balloon Peak is reached, and then by rising on its base a fair track can be made; all the rest of this side of the Pass is precipitous, and a great deal of it worse than perpendicular (for pedestrians), for it is overhanging.]

page 13

But by a sort of determination, only to be call foolhardiness, and for which the writer is chiefly to blame, this mode of ascent was continued, when presently a sort of mantelpiece on a rock presented itself, and along which it was necessary to crawl; it was moreover so much overhung with scrub, &c., that it was impossible to retain the swags in the orthodox place, viz., on one's back, so they were taken off, and each dragged behind its owner. During this mode of travel, the writer found a tuft he was clutching was giving way, and to save himself from falling down a precipice he clutched at a stronger hold, and in doing so released his swag which fell over the precipice, thus taking the writer's place in the falling. All that was seen of it was its making one or two bounds as it touched the rocks, then it disappeared, and, according to the writer's companion's opinion, never to be seen again. The writer, however, does not take quite so pessimistic a view of the matter, for he believes that when the Colony has progressed "by leaps and bounds," (to quote Sir Julius), and has sufficient population to people these alpine districts, then some alpine mountaineer settler may find a vestige of other days in the shape of the decaying remnants of the writer's swag. The loss of the swag was, however, very serious, for all the matches (packed in a glass bottle for keeping dry) were in it, as was also all the writer's spare clothes, blankets and papers, but fortunately no provisions or tent. After much more hard work the summit of the Saddle was reached, the time taken making it quite late in the evening; but endeavours were made to descend the other side to camp on the Clinton bank, for spending all night in a tent 3,000 feet above sea level is not very enticing. Only a short distance was descended, however, when it became too dark to think of getting down that night, and since it was also too dark to pitch tent, it was used to roll round our bodies as we lay on the earth. Unfortunately it came on to rain in the night, and in a short time everybody and everything was wet through, and it was therefore best to stand up and wait till morning, for it was too dangerous to walk about in the dark. After much anxious waiting, daylight appeared, but only to bring a dense fog, which rendered any progress as impossible as the darkness did.