Mt. Domett
So a year has passed since the last attempt at Domett. On that occasion, a tantalisingly small weather front drove us back, but by the time we had retreated to the cars, the mountain was again bathed in sunshine. When you are inside a cloud it’s hard to know what’s happening outside.
On this occasion however, the weather played a different game in the form of gale force winds.
The walk in to Chinaman’s hut on Friday evening was nothing but a pleasure for all, in spite of the river having had a major sluicing since last we were last there, making the going a little slower.
As the night progressed, so did the strength of the wind, even in and around the somewhat protected hut site. For those who chose to sleep outside (in tents and on the ground), it was a noisy night, even in the hut as well. At 6am, the planned time of wake up, I did a quick circuit of bodies, tents and hut sleepers to postpone the start ‘til at least 8am in the hope the wind might recede.
Departure at 8.45 was all very casual with little hope of going far, as the gusts were still viscous.
But as we approached the mountain, our hopes began to rise as the wind eased.
During the climb there was a bonus for the few at the front, seeing a very large stag 100m away which for a few seconds hadn’t seen us. Surprisingly it didn’t scamper off in the opposite direction, but proceeded up the hill and across our route so we got a great look at this magnificent beast.
How do you measure the combined elation of ten people all grinning like Cheshire cats at the simple achievement of climbing a hill – yes a bigger hill than some – in fact a mountain! Although I had been on this spot many times before, I got huge pleasure not only from my reaching the top again, but from watching the other nine people enjoying the moment as well.
But all too soon our attention was drawn to the huge bank of easterly cloud rolling toward us. This would make our descent (down a different and longer route) very difficult indeed, so off we went down the back of the mountain before sidling across horrible rock and scree to reach Raggedy Ridge.
About two thirds of the way down this long ridge, the fog engulfed us, reducing visibility to 100m. Almost immediately we found ourselves in unfamiliar territory but least were able to keep descending and eventually reached the creek with the help of the fog dissipating.
It had been a 10hr day so the focus was simple, a good meal, lively conversation, then into the sack.
Earlier thoughts of more climbing on Sunday seemed to evaporate, so it was a casual “watch your step walk” back down the river.
The homeward journey was broken with a brief inspection of the recent clearing of the historic bridal track from Beatties Hill across the Marawhenua river to Livingstone. There may well be more mention of this area in future.
The thrill seekers were – John Chetwin, Jane Green, Els Jordans, Colin Wollstien, Mathew and Anna Harris, Murray Gifford, Tim Pawson, Bron McCone, and Bill Bews.
