The Conquering of Mt Cavendish

On the fringes of Christchurch there is a range of hills called the Port Hills. The Port Hills are comparable to the Pentlands in height and offer gentle walks for those wanting to partake in a short stroll - ideal for me since I was feeling a bit tired after climbing Mt Stokes the day before.

I decided to walk up Mt Cavendish mainly because there is a well trodden path called the Bridal Path that leads up to the summit. The promise of a twenty minute walk and then some good views of the city was too much for me to resist.

Just neer the start of the track there is a fork in the road whereby you can choose to continue up the Bridal Path or go off onto the Scott something track; despite the differences being clearly marked I still ended up on the Scott something track. Not to worry there was a clear route from the track up a gully then round to the baleoch between two summits that I could take - indeed a couple ahead of me were taking that route.

Climbing up the gully I saw near the top what I assumed to be a tent pitched at the base of some cliffs. Climbing up higher I passed various bits of car remains, that's when I realised the 'tent' was actually a car that has taken a short cut down from the road above. Wanting to investigate I ignored the path off the the baleoch and continued up to the car remains. From there I decided it would be better to simply scramble up through the cliffs rather than have to retrace my steps back down to the baleoch turn off. Mistake.

While the cliffs were not large cliffs they were high enough to cause damage - the crushed upside down car is evidence to this. Climbing up I found that the route was too hard so I down climbed and tried again a bit further along. This time I managed to climb higher but as I pulled myself up onto a ledge I realised that there would be no easy way back down from here. Worse there didn't seem to be a viable route off the ledge.

II tried to climb up one section that look potentially climbable but part of the hill broke off in my hand - some quick reactions from my left foot preventing tradegy. By now I was a bit panic-ed and was cursing my stupidity for taking this route in the first place.

From where I was there were three options:
(1) Attempt a downclimb by dropping onto a rock which I couldn't be sure would hold my weight or not - it was just out of reach and the nature of the ledge meant I couldn't lower myself.
(2) Get rescued by a helicopter.
(3) Somehow climb up out of this area.

In the end I somehow managed to achieve (3) using pretty much all of my skill and cunning in the process. With five or so movements I was clear of the danger and could easily sramble across to a grassy slope an upwards to the summit road. Those five movement taking a long time to execute and being of the most delicate nature.

I arrived at the summit taking one and a half hours to do so - an hour longer than it'd take the average person on the right track. I was covered in sweat (most of it terror sweat) but I was totally elated at making it up alive.

I think I have learned two things from this ordeal:
(1) Stick to the tracks an never attempt to wing it unless you know the terain.
(2) I can pull out my A game when faced with certain death.

So while my path finding confidence is at an all time low. my climbing cofidence is at an all time high.


Oh yeah, tommorrow I'm going to Mt Cook, maybe I'll attempt the summit...