LOCH LOMOND AND LAKE WANAKA.

Otago Witness, Issue 3029, 3 April 1912, Page 58

LOCH LOMOND AND LAKE WANAKA.

By a Glasgow Max. We have come back from Lake Wanaka wondering why its glories are so little told to oversea visitors. Tourist guides praise Lake Wakatipu to purpose, but Wanaka is left neglected. W T e would tell our tale- to utter our gratitude. We have sailed over these waters with a song in our hearts, feeling that if only the heather were here this would be indeed the land of our sires, but grander. The approach to Wanaka is itself remarkable. Leaving the train at Clyde the wanderer passes along a deep and rapid river, which, working in an almost rainless region, lias cloven the hard schist rocks so as to leave on either side great precipices, with little room for a road. These mountain faces, swept by the dustladen winds, have been carved into innumerable ridges and peaks. Down below, wherever a side stream comes in, are the remains of old mining camps. In the river itself the dredges are seeking the gold the cradle men have left. After 13 miles a sharp turn in the valley brings us in view of the upper end of the gorge. In the angle between two rivers, high up on a gravel terrace, whose sides the rivers have carved right to the rocks, is perched the town of Cromwell, its church spires and red roofs gleaming in the evening light against the dark background of Mount Pisa beyond. Next day we cross the desert to the land of Beulah. For 40 miles we drive up the valley of the Clutha. On either side the mountain sides are lined by conspicuous gravel terraces, indicating the levels of a former lake. The whole valley is full of gravel, brought down by river and by glacier. Among these the river has been working, distributing them again and again. The process is seen on a great scale at the junction of the Clutha, the Hawea, and the Cardrona Rivers, where seven terraces can be counted, one above another. For miles of the road nothing seems to grow except where the snow-fed- streams coming down the mountain have been turned aside into fenced and netted fields. The native plants are the dry, wiry, thorny plants of the Sahara. We see few sheep, but we are told that the pastures near the snow line are admirable, and that the sheep are fattest and the wool the finest in all Otago. At the north end of the valley the fern appears again on the hillside, the 6ign of rainfall and the promise of fertiliy. Soon we see waving cornfields and frequent homesteads, and we spend the evening by the lake among vines and fig and mulberry trees. Lake Wanaka, like Loch Lomond, consists of two parts. The lower third of the whole length is broad, and studded with islands. The upper and longer portion is narrow, a true fiord or "sound." In the lower part beauty and majesty are mingled. The western barrier of the lake has here been broken down so that the next vallev has been pierced, some remnants of tne barrier appearing in tbe lake as islands. The result is Glendhu Bay and the view of Mount Aspiring, The mountains on the east are sufficiently high, Mount-Maud, Mount Gold, Mount Burke; but those on the west are giants. From Pembroke we look on a magnificent panorama—Mount Rov (5000 ft), Mount Alta and the Minarets (6000 ft), Mount Albert (6500 ft); and through the gap the Three Cones, Black Mount, and Mount Niger (6000 ft, or thereabouts); and, half hidden behind these, the more distant Gla-cier Dome (9000 ft) and the Triple Crown (9500 ft). These last are the satellites of Mount Aspiring, which wo see from the entrance to Glendhu. It was our good fortune to see these mountains with almost their complete winter covering of snow. For two days later the snow retreated, as it does more slowly in the spring, letting us see accurately the relative heights of the mountanis, until only the eternal snows of the highest peaks were left, the glaciers and ice falls of Mount Aspiring glistening in the morning sun. The visitor may amuse himself in climbing. There is a hill of easy ascent and comprehensive view just behind the township. He may drive over to Lake Hawea, past fields that yield up to 100 bushels per acre. He may cast his net into the lake and draw in 1001 b of salmon trout. But his chief delight will be in sailing up Wanaka. Rival boats compete for his custom. Mr MacDougall, the father of the town, who owned the steamers in former days, is represented by his son with the Tilikum. The mail boat, however, is commanded by Captain Burns, grandson of the first minister of Otago. One favourite excursion is to Pigeon Island. The route usually taken skirts the shore of Glendhu Bay, to open up Mount Aspiring. Then, passing between smaller islands and sailing along the mountainous Wanaka East Peninsula, past precipices that seem to give no foothold to a goat, the boat comes to the tiny bay of Pigeon Island, and is moored at the wharf. Everyone toils up the steep hill to a lake near the top. The billy is boiled and the baskets are opened. The folk stand awhile surveying the grandeur of the scene and then scatter to explore. The nobler excursion, however, is to the top of the lake. It was this that most impressed us. It was Loch Lomond in its completeness, only everything was doubled in size. The steamer takes four hours instead of two. the mountains are 6000 ft high instead of 3000 ft, But Tarbert and Rowerdennan appear over again. On the western side, below the Minarets, a peninsula is formed with a bay on each side. Above the silver strand rise the trees about tho homestead, just as the plantations around a Scottish castle. The very Falls of Invcrsnaid have their paral-

lei near the head of the lake, by the pier at Makaroro. The Ardlui swamps are seen again with the Crianlarich road through the bracken on the hard hillside. If the return is to be made the same day the visitor will find entertainment in the hospitable house of Mrs Moffat. She is the daughter of James Smith, one of the minor poets of Scotland, who has been honoured with a handsome memorial in Edinburgh, raised by Lord Rosebery and others. Mrs Moffat inherits the vivid and poetic temperament of her father. But Makaroro is too fine to be left so quickly. We ourselves were met by a friend at whose station we spent a few' memorable days. The traveller may remain with Mrs Moffat, or he may be driven by Mr Ewing to his picturesque home some six miles up the road. In any case be will pass along one of the grandest valleys he has ever seen. On each side the mountains are 6000 ft to 7000 ft high, their lower parts rounded and polished like Ben Lomond by the glaciers, their upper ridges sharp and rugged, as if they had pierced the ice sheet. On the west side the Wilkin River joints the Makaroro. The view up the Wilkin Valley is one of the finest in the whole district. The slopes of the mountains are clothed with bush. Between Mount Broom and Mount Albert the valley opening reveals Castor and Pollux, two mountains higher still, like Mount Aspiring itself, with eternal snow and glaciers. Wher.e the road enters the Makaroro bush we pass tne remains of an old township, around a spent sawmill. Here, under Mrs Ewing's care, the lover of the mountains may revel. This is the land of the mountain lily, ranunculus lyalli, and of hosts of alpine plants of species he has never seen before. It i» the home of the red deer, and a "royal" head of 12 points or an " imperial " of 14 may be shot from the road. It is the kea country, where the parrots prey upon the sheep, and the shepherd receives from the squatter one shilling for every kea bill. From this point also a very easy pass leads to the West Coast. The distance is only 40 miles. There are Government huts 16 and 25 miles away. One man we met, whom Mr Ewing had guided, told us that he had crossed 217 running streams, but that the mountains and glaciers and forests and rivers made together scenery that was beyond description. The journey bad occupied a week, and it was tho journey of a lifetime. No doubt other parts of the Otago lake and alpine regions have their virtues, but we have returned from Wana-ka refreshed and inspired for many days to come. Being Scotch, moreover, we have the privilege of descending from romance to practicality, and from poetry to prose. This quarter has a final virtue that will not be lost upon our countrymen. A brother Scot who had reached Pembroke in his own motor car paid his steamer, fare to Captain Burns. He turned to us with a different expression than that of tho Scotchman on his first visit to London—■ " This is the cheapest place I have ever come to in all my touring. I have paid not one-half of what I expected to pay."