MT. OWEN

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXX, 17 December 1936, Page 3

MT. OWEN

TRAMPERS IN ROUGH COUNTRY A WEEK-END TRIP (Contributed) As we toiled up the open spur leading on to Billy’s Knob, our chances of climbing Mt. Owen during this weekend (12th to 14th December) seemed very remote. A thick drizzle was falling, mist hung low around us, and the air had that chill which promised more rain. Then the spur became bush covered, every branch dripped water on to us, but, thanks to our storm jackets, we kept dry and warm. Further on the bush had been burnt, fallen blackened logs and branches made many detours, but just on dark we ran down the hill .into the clearing at the foot of Billy’s Knob, and pitched our tent. Next morning we were up at dawn to find a clear day and the mountains standing out against the sky. After climbing around Billy’s Knob we dropDed down into the Owen Basin with’its limestone cliffs rising on all sides. Once on the floor of the basin we made across to the nearest gully and began our climb on to the peak which we thought to be Mt. Owen. After much toiling up scree slopes we came to the top, only to find that a peak across the valley, in a southwesterly direction, was undoubtedly higher. Also we could make out a cairn on the top. As we were ringed about by limestone bluffs, finding a quick way down to the valley by means of a i shingle slide was not such an easy matter. However, we chanced it, ran down a thousand feet in five minutes, and walked to where some small tarns showed blue amongst the brown snow grass. Close up, they were brown, the water being clean but earthy to the taste. Looking back we could see that we had picked the only shingle slide that ran from top to bottom. The others all ended in limestone bluffs. The top of Mt. Owen did look far away, but for over two hours we scrambled over and around a mass of broken up limestone, full of cracks and pot-holes, the rock being of a gritty texture that tore the hands. Big patches of snow made easy and quicker travel, although the glare was intense. Then, at noon, we were on the top—and this time there was no mistake, for a large survey cairn stood on the highest point. Although it was a very fine day a haze hung between us and Nelson, but we could pick out both lakes and the mountains surrounding them. After lunch we set off back to camp, every now and then starting deer from the snow grass basins.

At the foot of Culliford’s Hill we came upon the cave well known to all deer stalkers of this- region. Climbing around Billy's Knob was rather hard work in the hot sun, and we arrived back in camp with a thirst, to quote Kipling, “that you couldn’t buy.” That night we had a wonderful view of the basin by moonlight, the peculiar weathered formations of the limestone showing strangely in the pale light.