BIG BEN.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXV, Issue 24, 29 January 1915, Page 7

BIG BEN.

TARANAKI'S SENTINEL. A HOLIDAY-MAKER'S CLIMB. (Contributed.) To those who have never indulged in mountaineering. ;i climb up Taranaki's famous sentinel is a feat to be proud of, and one to be remembered for many years to come. The writer, a novice at mountain climbing, got to the top early in January, and would advise those in search of a hard day's work—one of the hardest imaginable —with full compensation for the effort, to tacke this stupendous proposition of nature. If success is achieved,, it

brings its own reward, if failure results, it should act as a spur for future endeavour, though at the time the aching limbs and parched limbs mutely declare that never again would their tired owners be so foolishly ambitious as to undertake the trip. In the distance on a line day, Mount Egmont stands out boldly asking all who may conquer the monarch. The difficulties are as skilfully concealed as the feats of the accomplished conjurer. Scoria, the curse of the mountain climber, is invisible, yet it is ever present, forming a barrier over which many stout hearts have vehemently cursed, battled against and reluctantly admitted defeat. Gullies and

steep pinches are blotted out in a genial smoothness and the unwary are deceived by the apparent simplicity of the task. But get closer and commence to climb. In the preliminary stages the grade is gentle, the path leading through a fringe of bush, which has innumerable attractions for the botanist and lover's of nature, and it is not until a couple of hours have passed that the awakening conies. After this period had elapsed the spirit of conquest had been aroused in myself and two companions—one a \voma;i picturesquely and appropriately attired for the climb in a man's

working shift, with belt, and just c suspicion of bloomers showing. To the ultra-modest such a costume might seem immodest. To those who have scaled Egmont's slopes it will appeal as just the thing. Had it not linen for her good sense in discarding her hobble skirt and other feminine trappings, she would never have had the satisfaction of being the first 1 woman to make the top from the Stratford house this season. But she was a tired little bundle of feminine aches when she got back to Mr Williams' snug little mountain house. I and revelled in the acceptable repast with which he put new vigour into the alpinists. My advice to any woman going to woo llig Ben is to follow her example and give her limbs fair play. This is half the battle. Nobody on tha mountain will say anything to you for the simple reason that you will probably meet nobody thorp If the clouds embrace you, they mig!;t be cooler than the clasp of a lover, but if you are wise you will pn 1

your clay and, if your judgment is coi reet, the embarassment of a hug from , nature's airships will 'ne avoided. To get back, however, to our trip. W<

left the Mountain House at 7.3 D a.m., after having ridden several miles on horseback in the early morning to get there, and reached the top at 3 p.m. "What a long time," some stalwart climber might exclaim, bail when 1 explain that we mistook our \\a>, walked round the mountain and ascended via the New Plymouth rout, our apparent slowness is easily accounted for. But here let me apologise for overlooking the Stratford ascent. It was our fault entirely, as on our rclurn journey we saw the sign post with the legend "To the Summit," and realised that in the morning we had failed to follow its command. Anyhow, to be quite candid, this way looked more difficult and foreboding

than the other—-although Mr Williams ' subsequently assured us that it was not—and we took the line of least re si stance. Nothing of note happened as we wound our way round the base of the giant. The going was easy, the ascent gentle, the gullies picturesque and rugged, and we were on good terms with ourselves, littln dreaming of what was ahead of us. Thirst is one of the trials of the climber, and the first patch of snow formed an acceptable refresher for our parched mouths—though I believe we fractured a rule by so partaking, being informed by an expert to in future leave this kind of refreshment severely alone. By the time we had got to the foot of the long spur leading up from the New Plymouth house we were just a bit tired, but game. The mossy nature of the ground gave a spring like the feeling of good Bros sels carpet. Not yet had our awakening come. By one o'clock we reached the scoria, and even then we were not appalled. Buoyed up by the glimp l 'p of dots of humanity on the rocks nea: the top, our trio started to grapple with Big Ben's most formidable obstacle. We struggled on, bravely at first, making steady progress. Then a gale commenced to blow and this doubled the arduous nature of the task. Presently the lady's legs began to ache—and then we began to realise what we were in for. Apart from the gnawing and pleadings of our tired muscles, our temper's began to get frayed. Our female companion was brave and eager, but oh, so tired, and though she wanted to go up, she seemed to forget that (here was also to be a retracing of our tired steps. Our other friend had been up the mountain before and made light of the seeming impossibility, and but for his encouragement we should never have got to the top. Once, when he had got a ; little way ahead, T consulted with my panting companion, and tried to dis- ' stride her from going on. Half an hour's argument resulted in our admission of defeat. We decided that

Men wasn't worth further effort, and had begun to retrace our steps when our friend, perceiving our intention, bistily rushed back over his hardly won ground and forcibly remonstrated.

What he told us, of the sight that was J >n .tore tor nij when we reached the ! Lop would have made Kginont blush

with pride. A glimpse of the panorama below was, he said, worth a £SO note at the smallest computation. He had seen women so exhausted by the scoria that they had lain down in it and cried at their humiliation and insignificance, only to get up when then passion had subsided and triumphant ly reach the top. Compared with them, he said, we were as fresh as paint and certain victors if we went on. We went on, and regretted it the further we went. The scoria was treacherous and relentless. One step up and half the distance back was the measure of our progress. "We zigzagged and rested. Then we started afresh, gained a few more yards, and rested again. The wearer of the shirt and bloomers had lost her dash and clung tenaciously to her capable assistant—which was not me. When the rocks seemed still a long way off, and our hearts jumping and straining as if in a last noble effort, we met the party previously seen near the ■ummit. They told us we should win if we kept going for another hour, one of them—a fresh complexioned girl, cheering us'with the information that ve would have to hang on with our teeth when we got to the rocks. After ■mother consultation we started again, weary, disconsolate and with a poor appreciation of the novelty and grandeur of our surroundings. Every step up, though it took us nearer the top, was a fresh touch of agony. Our legs seemed fit to snap, and the rests hecame more frequent until despair seized us. More cheering words, mor.e strenuous struggling,, more quivering limbs, and gradually the paint-dabbed rocks which denoted the route to the

• top begain to assume more definite shape. There they stood as stars ol hope and led us on and on. Negotiation of the rocks was not so trying as the scoria, though to a woman the task was by no means easy, and the trying pinch near the summit was a final taxon the already over-strained nerves of those unaccustomed to the strenuous life and unused to dizzy heights. But we got there, reaching the snow of the crater just at 3 p.m. The gale was blowing keen, and fleecy clouds were shooting across from the New Plymouth range, and with the uncanny feeling born by the unique sight of the snow-filled crater, made the summit .;eem almost as good a place to be away from as the scoria. Having conquered, however, we were loathe to return without crossing the crater, which we did without difficulty, though bad it not been for the footprints of our predecessors in the snow we should have thought twice of venturing on the carpet of white, as it seemed like -rambling with one's life. However, it was more dangerous looking than it actually was, and when we beheld the smiling countryside spreading away in all directions, with the cosy farms and prosperous towns studding the landscape, we had an indescribable feeling of elation and pleasxire which for the time being quite overshadowed 'he fact that now we were there we

had to go back. We felt that we had deserved to conquer, and quite agreed

'hat to have turned back would have obbed the day of its crowning pleasure. The homeward trip was not nearly as strenuous as the upward climb, and it was a very meek, tired, and humble trio which greeted Mr Williams half an hour from the Mountain House, when he had started off in searcl) of us with a billy of cocoa. The cocoa was the most acceptable thing which had passed our lips that day. This is just a brief account of a climb which all who delight in nature should undertake, but my advice to the aspiring conqueror of Big Ben is to go in for a course of hill climbing before you start and have an inexhaustible supply of courage to cheer you when in the grip of the scoria. Mount Egm'ont is an asset which Taranaki may well be proud of, and it is worth all the praise which can be bestowed upon it. lam a new champion of it for the future.