Private Property! No Access! No Queen’s Chain! Trespassing!
Breaking OSH Regulations! You can imagine how the three of us
felt (large party this!) when at 11pm on the Friday night these
words jumped out at us as we peered at a notice on the fence
opposite Ferintosh Station on the Mount Cook road. It looked as
though our planned trip up Whale Stream and ultimately the 2499m
(2500 with a jump) peak of Dun Fiunary was stymied before we
started. Nevertheless, we found a good camp for the night at the
mouth of Boundary Stream and resolved to see the station owner the
next morning.
With our
negotiation skills primed, and our fast twitch muscles twitching in
case we were confronted by a double-barrelled shotgun, we
tentatively approached the house. The door opened and we were met by
..... the kindest looking old lady one could hope to meet! "Yes of
course you can go up Whale Stream," she said. "Just watch out for
the hunters, but they are due out today so they should be no
problem." "What about the ‘Private Property’ notice?" we asked.
"It’s just to make sure we know who’s up there," she replied. "No
problem if you ask permission." (Therein lies the moral of the
story!) And not only did she give us permission, but let us leave
Grant’s car in the homestead grounds. As we trudged up the Whale
Stream track we met the hunters coming out. They appeared to have
been successful, bagging several chamois and/or tar. One poor guy,
however, had had his tent blown away and lost his wallet with it.
Unfortunately, we never found the wallet.
After a
couple of hours and a long lunch, we found an ideal small terrace
above the stream where we could pitch the tents. This done, and
before we fell asleep in the warm, late afternoon sun, we decided to
go up to the stream fork and follow the north branch by tracking a
long ridge terrace, helpfully mentioned by the hunters, which hugged
the valley side some fifty metres above the stream. This made for
ideal walking and, interrupted only by watching a chamois climb
above us, we soon came in sight of the Whale Stream headwaters below
the spectacularly craggy peaks of Ferintosh and Glentanner. We
returned to camp with the evening sun on our backs, and after our
evening meal settled down to the sound and smell of consumed dried
onions.
Cruel Grant
woke us at 6.30am the next morning to a low mist and the distant
call of the kea. As the mist looked as though it would burn off,
after breakfast we decided to head up towards Dun Fiunary in the
hope that we could 'knock the bugger off'. To get a quick start we
left our tents up and hoped that the kea’s calls would remain
distant. As we climbed up from our campsite the mist cleared from
the ridge terrace but remained in the valleys. Before we ascended
into the Talus Basin below Dun Fiunary we had to drop to a small
stream, which was still covered in mist. It was here that we
experienced a strange phenomenon. We were above the mist with the
sun above and behind us. This caused our shadows to be cast upon the
mist below and be completely surrounded by a perfectly circular,
beautiful rainbow aura. Tony took this apparition as a divine signal
from heaven and, after first blessing his fellow disciples, launched
himself across the gap in an attempt to levitate himself into the
Talus Basin. Needless to say God was not on his side and, after
ignominiously picking himself up, he had to struggle up the steep
tussocky incline like other mortals. Once in the Talus Basin, we
bore left (as recommended by an OTMC member) and took a steep but
easily climbable tussock ridge that brought us to the left of the
peak of Dun Fiunary. However, before we could gain the final rock
ridge, we had to struggle up some hundred metres of scree of the
'two steps up, one down' type. We had some relief courtesy of
several tar who gave a demonstration of their remarkable ability to
run across sheer rock faces. Finally we gained the ridge, only to
find that it was about one metre wide and consisted mainly of loose
rock! After a couple of scary attempts to climb along this ridge, we
settled on a secure spot ('spot' being the operative word!) and had
a late lunch whilst taking in the expansive views that stretched
across Lakes Pukaki and Tekapo to the Two Thumb Range, and over the
clouds which covered the country towards Timaru.
As it was by
now mid afternoon, we decided not to seek an alternative route to
the summit and so headed back down. The tiring descent was
alleviated by two discoveries: the first an exquisite miniature rock
and bright green moss garden, complete with bonsai-like trees (but
no Hobbits), formed where a spring emerged from surrounding barren
rock; and the second a perfectly preserved tar/chamois horn found by
James. We arrived back at our tents, relieved to find that the keas
had remained distant, and, after cleaning up all our gear, struggled
off with full packs back down the valley.
Thirteen
hours after being awoken by Grant, three very tired trampers (am I
just speaking for myself here? - Tony) arrived back at Ferintosh
Station. Just as we were driving out of the gate we were met by the
very kind old lady and her husband. We told them of our adventures
and not being able to get to the peak. The old man replied with
typical sheep farmer taciturnity, "You went the wrong way. You
should have gone further up the basin." Now who was the &#?!!?# at
the club who told us to 'bear left' once we were in the Talus Basin?
Never mind,
we had a good hard tramp (11 hours), climbed to over 2000 metres,
had great weather, great views and what is better than being in
amongst the mountains? (Fish and chips afterwards at the Omarama
pub?)