Maori Name - Not Found

This hike was so worthwhile, we did it twice in a week.

To be honest, we didn't complete it the first time due to deep snow prohibiting the final scramble, but we were so sure the views would be incredible, that we went back the next week after the snow had receded somewhat. And we were right! Mt Alfred sits on its own at the fork of the Dart River and Rees River. These two rivers combine and empty into Lake Wakatipu so, when looking south, you get a spectacular view of the delta land, the lake and the surrounding mountains.

To the north, you can see where the Dart River flows from- a place known as Paradise, an area that was used many times in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. There are mountains in basically every direction.

To get to the start of the track, you need to follow the Glenorchy-Routeburn road and drive around to the west side of the mountain- to the small carpark with a stile over the fence. This confused us as there was no typical Department of Conservation signage at the carpark and we almost turned back. (i.e., don't stop at the Diamond River carpark, keep driving to the other side of the mountain.) This side of the mountain is covered in thick beech forest. Once you are in the forest (about 100m from the carpark), you will finally see the sign. Not the best placement.

This track is great for forest lovers with the different shades of green changing as the sun moves overhead in the afternoon. The track at this time of the year is very muddy and intersected by many small streams. Good waterproof shoes are a must and expect slips. There are also a lot of roots crossing the path so trip hazards are all over the place. Home made walking sticks really helped with this hike.

The first time we did it, the track became snowy whilst we were still below the tree line. Some parts are steep and this, combined with the snow, slowed us down.

The forest comes to an abrupt end about 3/4 of the way up the mountain. The last quarter is steep and exposed and had about 30cm of snow covering it on attempt one. We tried to make a path up to the ridge, but it was too difficult with no tracks to follow and uncertainty about the correct route and safety of the trail.

The mountain had lost most of its snow on the second attempt, however there was still considerable cover on the final ascent. This time there were tracks to follow and we felt like the top was attainable. Scrambling up, there is a section that is very narrow with a sheer drop on one side so I'm glad we didn't attempt it in the thick snow.

On the ridge, there is a lot more to explore than you would expect. You can walk the ridge to the north for a few hundred meters to look out over paradise, or take it to the south for a shot of the lake. I think the photos speak for themselves. Worth it!

It is the best vista you can get in the area as Mt Alfred stands alone on the delta land- past glaciers have pushed either side of it. You can see into Fiordland and spot a few of the glaciers that are on the move today (sorry- not sure which ones!) and the start of the Routeburn- giving you a taste of what the famed track can offer over the summer months. There was nobody on the whole track the second time we did it which, I'll admit, made me a little nervous being on the top for too long, but it definitely added to the magic of the hike. (It's always good to advise someone of your whereabouts). When conditions are good, it would be a great spot for a picnic if you can get going early.

It took us roughly 4 hours up and back, with about half an hour at the top. This was in August- still winter- so other seasons might see you do it quicker, depending on your ability. I would have liked to have stayed at the top longer, but it was already getting late in the day. I recommend trying to start pretty early. You are advised to contact the owners of the area at the top of the mountain to let them know you are going to be entering their land as they might have livestock up there. (The number can be found on brochures about the hike/ at the visitor centre in Glenorchy).

This remained our favourite day hike in the area, and possibly the whole of NZ. I highly recommend doing it!

** Update Dec 2016. The Earnslaw Station who own the property above the bushline have removed public access. Anyone wanting to access the top quarter of the track will have to ask permission and arrange for a guide: http://www.glenorchycommunity.nz/assets/News-Files/Access-to-the-Summit-of-Mt-Alfred.pdf

by Jessica Channing

2015

flashmagpie.weebly.com

The PCT is a long distance hiking trail that snakes up the West coast of America from Mexico to Canada. Around 90% of the hopeful thru-hikers start at the Mexican border heading northbound through California, Oregon and Washington. I was one of those hopeful north-bound thru-hikers, flying over solo from Australia to walk the 2650 mile (4265 km) trail.

A thru-hike involves a lot of planning and preparation. Modern ultralight backpacking was essentially conceived and pioneered on the PCT. The idea is get your base weight (all of your gear excluding food and water) down to around 5-8 kgs. As you’ll be spending up to 6 months on trail, investing in good quality, lightweight equipment is a good idea. You can either mail yourself food in boxes or you can, like most, hitch-hike into towns and resupply at markets along the way. I chose to hitch-hike and resupply as I went, familiarising myself with American products and experimenting with my diet. By the time I reached Oregon (mile 1660) I had a fairly good understanding of what my body needed and what I was/wasn’t getting sick of eating. I would recommend not boxing up food initially, it’s very hard to envisage the types of food you’ll be wanting three months down the track. Most hikers are not able to eat another pop tart after the first month. There’s plenty of resources on gear and food on the web. Yogi’s Handbook is a good starting point (http://www.yogisbooks.com/pacific-crest-trail/pct-yogis-pacific-crest-trail-handbook). The most important thing is to not get overwhelmed when you’re planning a long distance hike. Like almost everything, you learn as you go, and so long as your able to adapt and be flexible you’ll be fine. For example I started the hike with a hammock, learnt day three that that wasn’t working for me, and I had subbed it out for a tent on day 7.

Most hikers begin in April from the Southern Terminus, near a small town called Campo, East of San Diego. 2016 was the first year that the PCTA implemented a permit system, capping the number of hikers per day at 50. There are two major weather windows to consider. Firstly, the Sierra Nevada range cannot usually be passed through safely until the second week of June, once the snow starts to melt. So starting too early means that you may reach the Sierras (mile 700) and have to wait for the snow to subside. After that, you are essentially trying to outrun winter up in Washington. Most plan to finish the hike before October. Snow has closed the PCT as early as mid September in the past. I started on the 23rd of April and I seemed to be in the middle of the pack.

The Californian section of the hike is the longest (1660 miles). The first 700 miles winds through the high desert of the Mojave and the first 20 miles is a waterless stretch; you learn quickly that water management is going to be a daily challenge. It’s important to go at your own pace, many people injure themselves in the beginning because they don’t listen to their bodies. The desert was gruelling but gorgeous; dodging rattlesnakes, managing blisters, missing home and learning how to hike. You earn the views. After you leave the desert and enter into the Sierra’s a lot of hikers have already pulled out. The Sierra’s was the most epic mountain range I’ve ever hiked through. I felt like I was in another world. You carry micro-spikes and an ice axe to tackle the high mountain passes. By this time you’ve made extremely close friends and the trail community feels like a family. I actually hiked the entire trail with a dude I met on the first day of the hike.

By the time you reach Oregon almost half of the hikers have pulled out. It’s sad seeing your friends hurt and crushed by the type of commitment the hike demands. The Oregon section is a lot less undulating than California and so we started averaging 25-30 miles a day. The volcanic landscape of the Cascade’s breathes new life into the trail. Most of the time I felt like I was in Narnia. The wildflowers start blossoming and huckleberries line the trail. If California was mostly a physical battle, Oregon was a test of mental stamina. You’ve hiked for three months and you’ve still got over 1000 miles to the Canadian border. For the first time I felt the grind of the trail. You have to keep moving in order to finish before winter. It’s different when you have to wake up and hike if you want to complete what you started. Though, by this stage, we’re all pretty good at walking. Mile mania sets in and we all become crazed by the thought of reaching Canada.

The ‘Bridge Of The Gods’ connects Oregon and Washington. It’s a huge bridge that hangs over the Columbia River. Walking over it was a proud moment. Washington claims the final 500 miles of the trail and it’s almost unanimous that it also boasts the most beautiful scenery on the PCT. However, the weather starts to change. It’s an eerie feeling when you wake up in the middle of the Northern Cascades and the mist covers everything. You get up onto a ridge line and you can barely see thirty feet in front of you. Eventually the weather clears and you get a proper dose of Washington in fall. The leaves are changing colour to a burnt orange and you can hear the strange calls of elk at night. Like the leaves, the rain starts to fall. It rained for 30 hours at one point. I had to stop and hunker down on the top of a mountain in my tent that quickly filled with water. Everything was soaking wet. I rolled the last of my tobacco and waited. I was 140 miles from the Canadian border and I was in my element. I was freezing, tired, sore and completely content. I was at home. I felt alive. The colours, the birds, the rain, the rivers, the peaks, the snow; we got it all in Washington.

I reached the border at 5:30pm on the 23rd of September, 5 months after I began. I said to myself that I’d probably never attempt another thru-hike. I doubted I could commit myself to a hike like that again. That sentiment lasted a couple of days, then I missed the trail like nothing I’d ever missed before. What an epic adventure. So, it’s only natural to start planing another one! (next year I’m planning to thru-hike the Te Araroa in New Zealand).

For those considering thru-hiking the PCT, the following are some good sources of inspiration and information.

“Do More With Less” - Documentary - http://domorewithlessfilm.com
PCT annual survey - http://www.halfwayanywhere.com/trails/pacific-crest-trail/pacific-crest-trail-thru-hiker-survey-2016/

by Mathew Bate

2016

driftwoodandtheappletree.com

The Walker’s Haute route is a high-level trail that begins in Chamonix, France and finishes in Zermatt, Switzerland. It doesn’t require mountaineering equipment orexpertise, but with 7000m of elevation gain over 120km, it’s a daunting route. We set out in July, unsure whether we would actually complete the whole distance.

Originally conceived as a cross-country skiing route, the summer months transform the Haute Route into a demanding, but spectacular two week walk. The trail snakes around some of the highest and most imposing peaks of the Alps, but remains just below 3000m. The terrain ranges from gentle farming road, to alpine meadows, boulder fields and sometimes sketchy scree slopes. There are river crossings, glacier crossings, and sections with just steel ladders bolted to the rock, but trails are well sign posted and there are plenty of places to stop for a beer.

After waiting out some ugly weather in Chamonix, the first five days treated us to blue skies and cool nights. Climbing alongside the Glacier du Trient to the Fenetre d’Arpette was both a highlight, and a taste of the challenges to come. Days later, after a long ascent to the the ski resort of Verbier, a spanner was thrown in the works. The mountain refuge informed us that a lingering ice cornice made the following days walk too dangerous to pass without crampons. Reluctantly we shared an expensive taxi with some other walkers and skipped to the next valley.

From there the walk fell into a satisfying routine as we slowly ticked off the 14 passes that punctuate the route, passing from high cols to valley floors. We camped where it was sensible and otherwise made good use of mountain refuges dotted through the alps. The Swiss aren’t super keen on wild camping, but there are plenty of quiet spots where you won’t be bothered and fresh water is everywhere.

The final stretch down the Mattertal to Zermatt was the most spectacular and hair raising of the whole route. With good weather on the horizon, we chose the “Europaweg” over the gentle valley floor, a decision we questioned at times. The trail climbs straight up to 2200m and spends the next 31km traversing an extremely exposed section of boulder fields and cliff faces, with a minimalist approach to safety infrastructure. We witnessed three major rockfalls along the way, providing ample motivation to reach the safety of the picturesque Europahütte. A cold beer calmed our nerves substantially.

Unfortunately rockfall damage to a major bridge had cut off the route through to the second stage of the Europaweg. We reluctantly descended to the valley floor and enjoyed a relaxed walk up to Zermatt. As the Matterhorn finally came into view we felt elated, exhausted, and a little bit sad to see the end of an epic trail.

By Ben Christensen

2016
benchristensen.co

Nordmarka, a densely wooded forest, is within easy reach of Oslo’s northern edge; made even more accessible by the savvy Scandi’s town planning with the metro dropping you at numerous trailheads. While it’s without the fjords and fjells of the west coast walks that so often epitomise ones notions of the Norwegian landscape, Nordmarka is a vast playground of wilderness (some 430 sq. kms), that most cities only dream of having such close proximity to.

The plan to hike and camp at Bjørnsjøen (Bear Ocean), was conceived like most memorable walks, entirely at the last minute, with gear begged, borrowed and even constructed. Setting off from Voksenkollen station into an unseasonable 23 degree autumn day, the sun beat heavily on our backs and the urge to take a dip into one of Nordmarkas many lakes was only curtailed by the oncoming sunset. Our route was a relatively gentle 13kms, on forest road, single track and the odd bit of ski trail. The trails are coded as either blue (summer) or red (winter) and it’s advisable to take the blue option where possible, thus avoiding an awkward tramp through a swamp that come winter would be frozen and therefore skiable, this was learnt the hard way…

The scent of Birch, Pine and Spruce trees, quickly yellowing in the deepening Autumn, lingered sweetly as we made our way along tracks, that come December will be crawling with skiers. There was also an abundance of fresh blueberries that while a little sour, certainly beat the punnet prices found 15kms away. Around halfway to Bjørnsjøen, the conversation turned to Norwegian fauna; specifically bears and the increasing wolf populations. Although potential sightings were quickly dismissed due to our proximity to the city, it wasn’t long before tracks and fresh shit were spotted, keeping the thought of an encounter alive for a while.

Nordmarka offers an enviable smorgasbord of possible routes. They are all signposted and many can be tackled in an afternoon, except for the more serious treks like the 12-day Oslo to Bergen hike. The ability to camp freely on public land is a real treat, especially in a country renowned for its hefty prices.

Reaching Bjørnsjøen we found a spot, ditched the packs (and our dacks) and jumped into the cool dark water, which quickly stung as it found its way into our leg cuts and scratches. The sun lingered long enough above the tree line to pitch the tent, brew a coffee and sit back watching fish jumping into the night air, in search of insects or some such, invisible to us. Our home cooked, pack defrosted, chickpea curry offered the perfect end to a spectacular day.  
The next day, fog provided a stark contrast to the previous nights summery feel and added a further dimension to the hike. Norwegians are said to be born with skis on their feet, but the summer months reveal a country that offers incredible hiking potential, much of it within easy reach.

by Keith Parsons and Gunvor Eline Eng Jakobsen

2016

gunvorejakobsen.com

I hear about Bali’s holy mountain while on an earlier spiritual quest in Sanur involving incalculable bottles of Bintang and a local poolhall—enlightening me for exactly six hours. The rapture of Mt. Agung lasts much longer.

Some of the mountain’s lasting impression is pure scale—all 3031 vertical, volcanic metres of it. Even while travelling down the coast towards Amed in preceding weeks, Mt. Agung was impossible not to encounter. It dwarfed everything else in the landscape—a huge cape of shadow stretched between land and sky.

But it’s not all about raw volume—a lot of what makes this hike so memorable is the unique, noctural nature of the journey. I wait—as per street vended travel instructions—outside my hotel at around 11pm. The bus swerves through a handful of tourist districts and eventually into the inky humidity of the mountains until we reach the Besakih temple trailhead. Wayan, our bus driver passes us on to our guide—also Wayan. You will read here and there that it’s possible to do this walk without a guide. And it is, in the same general way it’s possible to take a long bath in a crocodile farm—possible, but greatly unadvisable for a number of reasons.

The first reason is that, especially towards the top section of the walk, the path dissolves into volcanic shale and a scramble of increasingly vertical rock. The guides know the best way, and will help you find it. The second is that this hike is long and steep—an unremittent, five-hour ascent. It’s good practice to have someone to look out for you. And thirdly, this is a reliable income source for local people who are allowing tourists to climb one of the most sacred sites in Bali—a fragment of Mount Meru, the very axiom of the universe, according to some Balinese stories.

The other things you’ll need to ensure the walk is unforgettable in all the right ways are: a torch (preferably head torch), food (it’s six hours up and more than half that coming down), warm clothing (don’t let the heat fool you, it’s 3 kms above sea level and freezing on the summit), water (lots of it, even at night it’s an unrelenting uphill through tropical-grade heat on the lower slopes) and a rain jacket (depending on time of year).

The whole reason the walk begins at 1:30am—after groups are assembled, incense is lit and offerings are made to the silhouette of Besakih temple—is to meet the rising sun at the summit of Mt. Agung. And is it ever worth it. Watching the distant circuitry of city night fall away to reveal reefs of clouds impaled by mountains, watching an oceanic shadow begin to drape from Agung over the land as far as the naked eye can see—these are what make hardship of the early morning climb instantly forgotten.

And all of the colossal craters and teeming jungle that was blotted out on the ascent is now visible. Until finally you’re back at Besakih temple, no longer a silhouette, but wrapped in flags and forest.
This isn’t strictly an easy hike. It’s a five hour ascent—often aggressively up, and about three hours down. The last portion towards the summit becomes more of a climb/scramble than a hike. It won’t be as painful the next day as a quest involving Bintangs and poolhalls, but you will feel it.

by Paul C Cumming

2016

signalfaults.com

No map available sorry.

During June & July of this year I headed off on a 3-week jaunt across Europe, splitting up my time between Switzerland, France and Italy. I’ve never seen so many cheese wheels, Birkenstocks and bottles of sparkling water in my life.

Clean as the Swiss streets may be and as hairy-chested as the Italian waiters were, the highlight of my trip came from France. Here I stayed a few nights in Saint Gervais, a lovely little homely town that looked out to the Alps from just about every café table. It was in this part of France that I took a day trip to the world’s eleventh highest mountain; Mont Blanc (meaning, ‘White Mountain’).

Located on the very edge of the tourist hot-spot town Chamonix, Mont Blanc stands at exactly 15,782ft tall (give or take a few feet depending on the days snow dump). Unless you’re fine with climbing up a 4,000-metre incline in waist deep snow or you’re Sylvester Stallone from Cliffhanger, you’re going to want to take the cable car.  Heading up and back on that wonderful sky-car will set you back €86,50 for an adult and €73,50 for your younger ones. If you’re feeling like actually earning that ‘Dad of the year’ mug you got for Fathers Day, you can take the whole family for €259,50. Yeah, it’s not super cheap but I would have been kicking myself if I hadn’t gotten to the top for the view.

Despite being snow covered all year round, I was able to head to top and be comfortable in just a tee shirt, jeans and a beanie. There are various lookout points which, after looking at them all, will have given you a 360 degree view, but just not all at once. The snow-capped jagged edges that litter your surroundings are truly stunning and are complimented by the litany of hikers along their sides, looking like colourful toy soldiers.

There is a great little exhibition in the middle of it all, showcasing all of the hiking, paragliding and skiing that takes place on and around the mountain. It’s part Go-Pro commercial and part personal-fitness demoraliser, but it’s nothing short of impressive. Naturally, there is a gift shop on the way back to the cable car. I mean you can’t spend all that money to get to the top of Mont Blanc and not be tempted to buy a key ring in the shape of a snowflake, right?

On the way down I made sure to stop off at the cable car midpoint to grab a Mars bar and admire the view from a modest little café on the side of the eleventh highest mountain in the world. Hands down the coolest snack spot I’ve been to. I implore you to get there one day. You can’t replicate the feeling in your lungs of that pure, high altitude air or be satisfied enough by my images to not take yourself and your definitely ever-grateful family* all the way up. If I ever get back to France I’ll surely head back to Mont Blanc, if only to buy that very ok and absolutely overpriced key ring.

*Ever-grateful family not guaranteed, depending on your privilege effects may ware off immediately.

by Jordan Rogers Smith

2016

If simply camping or driving through the amazing Joshua Tree National Park isn’t energetic enough for you, then a hike might be in order. One of the best and most rewarding hikes in the park is the trail up Ryan Mountain. It’s a moderately difficult hike as it is all uphill from the beginning to the end with almost no flat areas to ease your legs, but once you make it to the top, the incredible view is worth it.

Ryan Mountain is named for one of the early ranchers and mining operators in the park back in the day and is known for being the second highest peak in the park. You may also see many varieties of cacti, Joshua Trees (of course) and lizards.

On the day we went, we audaciously decided to start our hike in the mid-afternoon sun at the end of a warm summer. It is recommended that you take ample water for your hike and we drank our way through 2 litres easily. The desert conditions means there is little shade relief on your ascent so plan wisely. That means don’t forget the sunscreen!

At the beginning of the hike, there is a small rock formation that is interesting to look at, but don’t get stuck there for too long as the hike has a lot more to go.  The path is well kept for the most part but there is a mild amount of scrambling over uneven rocks and very steep stairs carved out of rock. As you go higher, more and more interesting rock formations reveal themselves to you and the view over the park becomes even more spectacular.

To the north-west, enjoy the vista of The Wonderland of Rocks, and further south-west, the Little San Bernadino Mountains. The best view however, is at the peak of the mountain, once you have reached the sign and mound of rocks marking completion of the 5,457 foot summit. If you hike in the afternoon like we did, you may catch the sun setting over the Little San Bernadino Mountains, which makes for some breathtaking views and hues.

We spent far too long taking photos as the sun retreated below the horizon so our descent was mostly in the dark by the light of our headlamps. Luckily for us there were no missteps or falls but the sounds of the nocturnal desert fauna kept us hurrying on the way down.  

By Eu-Jinn Teh
2015
thesilverlining.co

Sentiero degli Dei is translated ‘Walk of the Gods’ and I have read a few suggestions as to why. The most mystical being that it is the path the Greek gods took to save Ulysses from the sirens. More realistic, but far more dull, is that it was so called because of the numerous Roman temples scattered across the slopes. Either way, the names is deserved on the basis of the stunning scenery viewed from such great heights. At times my head span at the height we were at and the sheer drops to the sea with nothing to stop me from going over the edge other than my own sensibility.  

You can join the path at various points along it by climbing the seemingly endless stairs from one of the towns at the bottom. Or you can cheat and get a bus. Once you reach the path it is not long before you are rewarded with incredible vistas of the Mediterranean below as well as lemon groves and tiny villages that make you think of what life could have been like had you been born in a simpler time and place.

by Simon Joshua Peel

2014

simonjoshuapeel.com.au

If you Have been to Croatia you most likely have dipped into the the Adriatic from the night club lined beaches in the city of Split. To get relatively easy access to the Dinaric’s you can catch a bus from central Split to a tiny little town called Sitnoe Gornje. It doesn’t seem like much goes on in Sitnoe except a small bar run by a really friendly old Croatian man (and his cat) and a stream of busses back to Split. Definitely remember the bar is there for a post hike Karlovačko (beer).

The only information I found on the internet about hiking up Mt Mosor (other than organised tour groups) was to follow the red and white hand painted markers (hence no map). To begin, you walk up a pebbled road at the top of a hill that is still used as a donkey cart route up the mountain. It’s relatively easy going just mind the occasional pile of donkey crap and some oversized sharp pebbles. The donkey path takes you pretty high so you get an impressive view of all the farms and towns below.

After a while you will follow the markers off the donkey route and start scrambling up a less cart friendly track. Sometimes the markers get kinda hard to see but you will find them eventually. The path opens up as you reach the first hill top, you’ll see a donkey shed and a beautiful chalet looking house used by the local mountaineering club (who are responsible for the markers). It is a bit eerie in the winter with nobody around but on a crisp clear blue sky day you can see for miles.

There are multiple routes you can take up the different summits around Mosor, one route (i forget the name) has an ominous Catholic cross at the very top that seems to follow you everywhere.

(apologies but we could not find a workable map)

by Max Blackmore
2015

noscribbles.com
natuaraltombestone.tumblr.com

Lake Louise and the Plain of Six Glaciers trail are located in Banff National Park, Alberta. The trail starts at the historic Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise, where hordes of tourists will undoubtedly be snapping pics of the bright turquoise water. Don’t let the crowds put you off, by the time you’ve walked around the lakes edge and are heading up through the spruces and firs a lot of people will have disappeared and you’ll be free to admire the stunning cliffs and snow capped mountains. Be sure to look up every once in a while, each cliff seems to have its own collection of rock climbers, who (buff as they may be) look rather fragile when balanced so far up above the rocky ground.

For a good couple of hours, you’ll hike up through the picturesque valley, it can get pretty darned hot, so don’t forget your hat and water. Just when you’re feeling as though your poor old knees might leave you and head for home, you’ll find yourself looking at a 1920s stone teahouse tucked in behind the trees, surrounded by wildflowers. A hot cup of tea or a warm lemonade might not be the first thing you feel like after the long climb up, but once you’re sitting on the shady veranda looking out at the stunning landscape, you’ll make any excuse to have another cuppa. This place is exceptionally purdy, so take your time and have a slice of blueberry cake. Many people turn back from here, but do not be one of those people, regardless of how full you are! The best views yet are just half an hours walk away.

A further 1.5kms up from the teahouse is the Abbot Pass viewpoint. The trail to the lookout is loose and rocky with steep slopes on either side, so mind your step (and be prepared for the snarky criticisms of serious hikers if you’ve chosen to wear sandals). At the very end of the track you’ll be rewarded with an amazing view of the lower Victoria Glacier and in the distance a very small, but no less vivid, Lake Louise. 

by Lydia Coleman

2016

Mix the two halves of the word around and “Montserrat” reads a bit like “serrated mountain”. Which, not coincidentally, is also what the word means in Spanish. A pilgrimage spot for many religious Catalonians, the mountain houses an abbey as well as many other significant religious monuments. It was also used as a refuge for artists, scholars and anti-Franco politicians for years during the Civil War. And it’s only a one-hour train ride or 40-minute drive from central Barcelona, so you’d be nuts not to put down your “vermut con sifon” and your “tapas” and hit the road.

Despite religion and politics, Montserrat has become a destination for the weekend walkers, exercise nuts and extreme, wall-scrambling mountain climbers. You might even see one of them flash their arse at you as you pass by on the funicular mountain train.

You can walk up to the top from the very base of the mountain, or, as we did, from the monastery. Choose your day wisely, because if you pick a foggy day expect to spend the first part (or the whole part) of your journey disappointed. Luckily for us, only the morning of our trek was disrupted by fog.

While the fog was a bummer for some, it made for some spectacular scenery as we climbed higher and higher. It’s kind of eerie hearing the bells ringing from the monastery through the fog.

When the fog cleared, we began to spot the climbers scaling vertical granite walls. We were alerted to their presence by their excited yelling in Catalonian, or shrieks warning hikers below of a possible avalanche of boulders. If you do hear loud shouts from above, you may want to duck for cover: it could be a warning that dislodged stones are headed for you.

There’s a multitude of trails that weave all around and up the foothills of Montserrat, not that you would know it (we found no maps anywhere explaining the walking trails). You pass derelict former dwellings that isolated monks and nuns lived in many hundreds of years ago, and chapels that look straight out of a spaghetti western. There is one particular part of the climb up to St Jerome where the former dwellings are actually carved into the edge of a giant boulder, with tiny doorways nestled into the rock.

(apologies but we could not find a workable map)
by Max Blackmore
2016
noscribbles.com

natuaraltombestone.tumblr.com

By tradition, the Camino de Santiago is a Christian pilgrimage to the Spanish city of Santiago de Compostella. It has origins dating back to the 11th century. Today, El Camino welcomes pilgrims from all walks of life (pun intended), with the quietest periods from April to June and September to October.

There are multiple paths of the Camino.  Some as long as 1200km and others as short as 100km. I did a combination of Caminos. The first was the 820km path from St Jean Pied de Port (France) in the Pyrenees to Santiago de Compostella (Spain, aka Camino Frances) in northern Spain. The second took me 120km from Santiago de Compostella to the coast at Cape Finisterre (aka Camino Finisterre).

The Basque and Rioja regions at the start of the Camino Frances were a highlight for their red soils, mountain vistas and vineyards. As were the snow capped mountains and quaint villages around the town of Foncebadon. I thoroughly recommend the John Brierley Camino guidebooks as they detail elevations, distances and accommodation options. I referred to mine multiple times each day.

As far as downsides go, there are a couple. Like most cheap food, cheap Spanish food is pretty rubbish and doesn’t sustain you over a month of walking. Unless you intend on camping along the way (which is possible), you’ll want ear plugs for the snorers. Also, if you are used to more remote walks be prepared for some walking along ashphalt roads on the Camino. Be prepared too for the emotional lows that come with physical fatigue, processing of the past and dreaming up the future. These things will come up on a walk like this.

The highlight is being able to live the simple life. At it’s core, the Camino offers people an opportunity to live simply for about 5 weeks. By simple I mean spending time walking everyday, in an ever changing landscape, carrying only a few possessions, picnicing with people from all over the world and having time for reflection and conversations.

Length – 940km over 33 days

(apologies but we could not find a workable map)

by Rachelle Jones

2016

Rachellesjones.tumblr.com

Away from the skiers and boaters around Aviemore, the route up Bynack More is one of the Cairngorms’ less trafficked walks that’ll let you forget you’re in primo highland holiday country.Winding up from the main car park in Glenmore, you may find your dreams of Narnia-esque woodland slightly deflated as the path through The Queen’s Forest is bordered by large swathes of logging. Clear that though, and the trees soon thin out of their own accord as the path gradually snakes up to Meall a' Bhuachaille, an 810 metre Corbett topped by a giant (and conveniently wind-breaking) cairn (a mound of rough stones).

Over the hill there’s the cosy-looking Ryvoan bothy and although tempting to put your feet up and read the pencilled graffiti it’s probably best to push on because really, Meall a' Bhuachaille is just the starter. Once you trod on east of the bothy you’ll find all the dog walkers and ciggie-puffing tracksuiters quickly disappear.
 
You’re never really alone though. Ptarmigans (snow chickens, essentially) make fairly regular cameos and announce themselves with perhaps the one of the most ungainly birdcalls going around.
 
From there it’s a gradual walk through low scrub and heather, dotted by small ponds, streams and the occasional abandoned mountain bike. But there’s plenty to keep your jaw dropping as you rise higher and higher above the valley.

We headed out on a pretty sunny mid-April day, leaving enough snow to make things postcard-y without running the risk of any “foolish-unprepared-Australians-missing-in-blizzard” nightmare headlines. Trekking up above the valley the remnants of last night’s snow begin to appear, a white front gradually retreating back up the mountain. Pretty soon though those early glimpses are thoroughly trumped by the snow-capped Bynack More itself.
 
Being without hardcore gear and still a little green when it came to trudging through a mountain’s worth of snow, we stuck to the footprints left by the lone pair of slightly more weathered walkers we bumped into on the way up.
 
Their makeshift path spiralled up and around each of the ridge’s successive peaks until we found ourselves at the Munro’s (scottish mountain) summit, standing 1090 metres up and looking across at the summits of Ben Macdui and Cairngorm. Just down the other side are some apparently iconic rock formations, but given the rate the snow was melting we opted to scramble back down the way we came.
 
Even in the hour or so spent on the final climb, much of the snow we passed through had cleared by the time we made the long, slow descent back down, desperately hoping the ice hadn’t soaked through to our socks.
 
Passing south of the bothy this time, the trees grow thicker as you dip down the valley to Lochan Uaine. A long oval of green water backed by a granite cliff-face, Lochan Uaine is a convergence point for many of the criss-crossing paths whose starting points dot the main road up to the Cairngorm ski slopes.
 
Which, handily, leaves you with a few options depending on how knackered you are. To break up all the downhill action we picked another brisk forest climb which, after crossing paths with a few cute dogs to pat, opened up out the back of a reindeer farm within a few minutes walk of our starting point."

Words by Walter Marsh
Pictures by Sia Duff

2016

siaduff.com

Lombok is an island next to Bali in Indonesia, like Bali it is extremely volcanic, in fact most of the island of Lombok is taken up by the massive Mt Rinjani. Rinjani is an active 3000 metre high volcano that imposes itself wherever you are on Lombok. To get to Lombok you can catch a licensed ferry or ‘party boat’, that plays terrible action films below deck and pumping techno above. Sitting below deck you become slightly delirious from the diesel fumes flowing through so you have to venture up to techno and $3 Bintangs on the roof.

The ferry from Bali will drop you at a harbour town just north of Senggigi where you can rent a scooter for $5 per day which is the best way to sight see and make your way to one of the Mt Rinjani starting points. Using Mt Rinjani as the perfect navigation tool it’s pretty easy to find the town of Senaru, Just make sure your accommodation on Airbnb actually exists!

Depending on how much time you have and whether you want to hire sherpas/guides to take you on a multi day trek to the summit it is possible (despite all the articles telling you the opposite) to go up most of the way to the Crater Rim in one day. If you want to do the crater rim mission in one day haggling to find a guide to lead you up the 3000metres is your first problem. You have to haggle and persuade a company that they can do it in one day and eventually you’llnegotiate a departure time of 2am.

If you want to beat the sun to the top leaving at 2am is the best deal just pray you don’t get delayed by hectic Bali belly. I’ve never started a climb in the dark or in such humidity but after a tough few hours and a 2000 metre ascent the view we got as the sun came up was very worth it. To top off the beauty our guide a 32 year old Indonesian man named Basri carved a mean pineapple into an edible sculpture with a giant nepalese army knife. Getting a guide like Basri pays off not just in pineapples and a good lunch he’s been taking tours up for 12 years so his knowledge is vast.

by Max Blackmore

2015

noscribbles.com

Just an hour south east of Zürich in-between the jagged Appenzeller mountains and the beginning of the Glarus Alps, lies the Lake of Walen. Beautiful enough to inspire a solo piano piece by Hungarian romantic composer Franz Liszt, called Au lac de Wallenstadt. Lake Walen (Walensee) is a deep, dark and mysterious pool that lies at the foot of this equally inspiring alpine hike below the Churfirst peaks.

The hike begins at the not so charming Rehab Clinic Walenseestadtburg and continues West through a more charming chocolate box swiss alpine landscape above the lake. Not many minutes later you pass the compulsory stop of ‘Paxmal’, the  peace monument built by eccentric Swiss artist and stamp illustrator Karl Bickel.

From the monument you climb a very steep zig zag to the beginning of the high plateau. There is a whole other wold up there with panoramic views of peaks in all directions and a ‘teletubbyland’ rolling snow fields east back towards Walenseestadt. This route allows for spectacularly close-up views of the Churfirsten rock walls and fjord-like Lake Walen below.

After a hurried jog for a couple of hours because you didn’t realise the snow would be thigh deep and you start stressing because you’re wearing shorts and sneakers, and your girlfriend already got stuck in a snow drift up to her armpits, this causes you to get pretty stressed. After a little more stress you arrive at the perfectly located Alp Tschingla, here you can relax with a bottle of Rivella and enjoy the view.

Now its a seriously vertical descent through a gorge-like forested valley that ends back at Walenseestadtburg.

(Length - 11km)

By Nick Ashby

2015

www.montyfairview.com

Maori name - Aoraki meaning Cloud Piercer

To Mueller Hut...
Aoraki/Mt Cook is the highest peak in New Zealand, located in the centre of New Zealand’s South Island. Being early March, we were blessed with warm sunny days and the route to Mueller Hut was clear. It completely snows over in winter, and avalanches become a real threat, so the track is generally only open mid November to late March. Whilst the hike is only 5.2kms each way, it is more than a 1000m climb with a large chunk of the track being a bit of a rock scramble marked by rock cairns and orange markers.

To start, you need to register your hike and if you want, book a spot in the Mueller Hut. We decided to freedom camp, and fairly easily found a spot a bit out of the way and out of view of the hut so we didn’t get in trouble from the hut warden. We were still able to grab some water and use the toilets at the hut, and lounge on the balcony post hike. We also locked up our more precious belongings in a nearby hostel for a small fee, even though we didn’t stay there. Pack enough water for the day, as the only water refill is when you get to the summit. We also took some beer and pasta; because we decided that carrying those extra kilos were worth it.

An early start is ideal, as there are too many lookout spots to count, so you want to be able to take your time. Each section of the track reveals more and more of the surrounding landscape, until you reach the top of Mueller Hut at 1800 meters, where there are 360-degree views of glaciers, peaks, vertical rock faces and ice cliffs. The first section is from the bottom car park and campsite to Sealy Tarns. This is called the Kea Point Track. This is the easier section of the track, though it is still steep, predominantly consisting of stairs (about 1800 of them). It leads to the Sealy Tarns track, which becomes even steeper, though the track is still well-defined and it zig-zags up to Sealy Tarns. There is a good place to stop and have a rest at the top of this section, and the views of Hooker Valley and Aoraki/Mt Cook can be seen from here. We had an incredible view of both the glacier run off and the peaks as well as the valley due to the day being super clear. It was also warm and this section got us nice and sweaty.

From Sealy Tarns to Mueller Hut you have to hike through alpine route rather than a maintained track. The track turned from tussock to a steep and rocky climb. Our pace slowed down significantly here, as every step had to be calculated. So it wasn’t as sweaty, but a little tedious. Once we navigated the rock field, the rocks turned to loose gravel and the last 50m of the climb was battling scree. However beyond the scree is a ridge where we stopped for lunch. The top of the ridge revealed views of the Muller Glacier and an incredible ice shelf. Another 20m following the orange markers and you reach the hut. There was snow when we got there, so we dug out a snow eski and cooled our kingfishers. I got scared of the Kias and we kicked around a rugby ball in the snow. We through snowballs and we watched far off avalanches from the hut balcony. We set up camp, cooked our pasta and explored the ridiculous perimeter of views the summit had to offer.

The night was stupidly windy and freezing so we rose pretty early, tried to pack up our stuff without loosing it all to the wind and took off back to base. The climb down is a bit rough on the knees, though at least we were no longer carrying beer and pasta. It was a pretty quick journey down and we descended in a couple of hours. The stairs at the end made my legs turn to jelly and it was really hard to walk on flat ground for about half an hour afterwards.
My advise would be to take your time and do this hike overnight, though you could easily do it in one day if you sped through. I would also advise packing heavy and taking a beer and a decent dinner as no one enjoys eating a protein bar for dinner.

By Rebecca Capp
2014

@bec_capp

Maori name - Not found

This particular hike can be done over several days or in one, you also have the option of kayaking through part of it as well. We chose to Kayak in and walk back this time. Another time I walked this track we caught a water taxi to Totaranui and then hiked back over 4 days.

There are 4 DOC (Department of Conservation) huts along the hike, that are equiped with bunks, heating and running water, or you can camp along the way. These photos were taken during a kayak to Anchorage bay and then hike back to Marahau. The kayak took about 5 hours, and it’s amazing, you duck into little bays with no one around or you can paddle out to some of the islands that sit just offshore.

In New Zealand terms it is relatively busy but most of the time it is quiet and you feel like your completely isolated. The kayak out was a bit rough, and we were constantly worried about capsizing, especially because I had my camera tucked under the spray skirt but once we got around the point it was a lot smoother.

The Abel Tasman National Park covered in native bush, Beech forest and large Kanuka trees, as well as the clearest blue water. I heard some one say that during the last ice age this area of NZ was spared devastation because of the high levels of quartz in Golden Bay, so the flora and fauna in this area are prehistoric.

The hike is pretty mellow, but the distances between huts is far. On the day we went our journey was about 9 hours all up but well worth it. Depending on what you choose, paddling or tramping, you will get to see some of the best waters in all of New Zealand.

2015
By Tim Hillier

timothyhillier.com

After 3 days of rides, ramens, onsen baths and general galavanting through the beautiful Sounkyo Gorge, it was time to get myself on top of those mountains. I didn’t do the long plane-train-bus combo into the heart of Japan’s northernmost island for anything less. I wanted to spend some time in the country’s largest national park, up in ‘the playground of the gods’ as the native Ainu call it.

There are so many options for hikes in Daisetsuzan, 16 peaks over 2km’s high, crossed with paths, dotted with huts and more stratovolcanoes and lava domes than you can shake a stick at. The trek I did circled ridges and peaks of a handful of mountains around a huge volcanic caldera — which is essentially when the earth spews up so hard the ground just drops away leaving a giant crater.

I first attempted to hike up from Ginsendai, an hour bus ride from Sounkyo Village. I decided to call it and head down after wild winds ripped my beanie out from under my hood and made it near impossible to stand up. By this point I had even resorted to crab walking and could barely see 15m into the mist. Turning back was probably a wise move. At a point being aggressively persistent gives way to being a foolish fool. Waiting at the bus stop for a return bus that wouldn’t come for another 4 hours, I was lucky that a kind couple from Honshu on summer holiday insisted on driving me back to Sounkyo. Pair of legends.

Second attempt I just went straight up. First the ropeway (which was across the road from my accoms above the natural cafe - an airbnb I would recommend)  and then the chairlift. You can walk up from the bottom if you are a keen bean but there’s plenty more to do at the top. After crossing the peak of Mount Kurodake the landscape changes to something more rocky and volcanic. Trees give way to alpine shrubs and as an added bonus you leave 90% of the punters behind. And just when it gets good! I stopped just past the peak and had the best bag of chips of my life admiring the landscape.

Kurodake Hut is the best equipped in this half of the park I hear. It’s got a canteen offering snacks, drinks and beers, a dirt floor room that can sleep 80 shoulder to shoulder and, best of all, sleeping bag rental - great for a guy like me who didn’t bring any real gear halfway across the world to hike with. They even have cycle powered dunnys there.

That night I shared the hut with about 20 hikers sporting full packs, double poles and gloves - all the gear. They carried on like a bunch of teens on school camp, though the average age of them would have been about 65. I chatted to one guy, 73 who looked like a Japanese Mads Mikkelson. Another woman gave me a large helping of her homemade pickles to supplement my cup noodle dinner. Man, the Japanese elders put us all to shame, I’ll be a proud guy if I’m still hiking the trails at their age with such joy and vitality.

I’d recommend getting up at stupid o’clock to scale the nearby Mt. Keigetsudake just before dawn to see the sunrise. Perched up on some rocks drinking in the first rays of the day I was briefly joined by a little fuzz ball poking his head out of a gap in the rocks beside me. I later learned it was a Pika - the thing Pikachu was named for! Japan. Woop!

Tracing the peaks around the caldera wasn’t a too taxing stroll. Barren, rocky heights on the west side, descending down on the east side to a meltwater stream that cuts through the permafrost snow making a small ice cave. Between the lush grasses, the stream crossings and the wildflowers it’s pretty damn magic. Before you know it you are back over Kurodake past the struggling dads trying to climb the trail with a kid on their shoulders and heading down on the gondola back to the alps-like village of Sounkyo.Next time I’m picking longer route.

(apologies but we could not find a workable map)

By Stanton Erskine

Maori name- Not found

Roberts Ridge to Lake Angelus, returning via Speargrass Track.

Lake Angelus is a huge alpine tarn carved into the Traver’s Range by a long-since-melted glacier. It’s nestled high in the range between lakes Rotoiti and Rotoroa, in Nelson Lakes National Park at the top end of New Zealand’s South Island.

To get there from Mt Robert carpark, we took Pinchgut Track to Roberts Ridge, which we followed over Julius Summit and down into Angelus Basin. Pinchgut is the hardest and most boring part, but it only takes an hour or so and there are some good views back over Saint Arnaud and Lake Rotoiti. Once you’re on Robert’s Ridge it’s pretty flat most of the way, but there are some boulder-hopping sections toward the end that require concentration. It’s just over 12kms and took us about six hours. You’ll need to take a whole days water with you because there’s none until you get to the lake.
The little peninsula that sticks out into the Lake Angelus is a good place to camp because thick speargrass provides some natural (though a little speary) cushioning. Alternatively you could stay next to that lake inside Angelus hut if the weather is bad, but that costs money. We went in February and the water was still freezing but we had a swim anyway.

For a change of scenery, and because it follows a fresh running stream, we took Speargrass Track on the return trip. There’s plenty of river crossings, bush bashing, and shin-deep mud, so bring good waterproof shoes if you’re gonna go that way so you don’t end up with the beginnings of trench foot like we did. This route is a fair bit trickier, and will take longer than Roberts ridge, but the forest is rad. In retrospect it might have been a good idea to stay an extra night at Speargrass Hut on the way out, because it was a pretty long day.

The best advice I can give you for this hike is don’t leave valuable shit in your car. When we got back to Mt Robert carpark, a bunch of cars had been robbed and my bag, containing 15 rolls of exposed film, was gone. Despite the best efforts of the rangers and the Murchison police force (which consisted of one guy named Mike), I never saw the bag or the film again. We later learnt that robberies are common at that carpark and that there are lockers in the Nelson Lakes visitors centre, which I would recommend you use.  

by Ed Gorwell

2015

www.blog.edgorwell.com

@edgorwell

Day seven of our twelve-day trek found me standing breathless at the top of a mountain pass after having climbed over a kilometer in elevation from the valley floor. Among shards of shale I bent down to discover the fossil of a seashell and realised that where I stood, at 4600m above sea level, was once under the ocean. The Cordillera Blanca - the white mountain range - is made up of an impressive collection of glacial peaks, many of which reach close to, or higher than 6000m in altitude.

The Alpamayo Circuit begins on exactly the same route as theSanta Cruz trek – one of the most popular treks in the Cordillera Blanca. However, about 3 or 4 days in the Alpamayo Circuit branches off to the left and leaves the Santa Cruz route behind, along with the crowds of hikers. It then continues around, as the name suggests, making an almost full circuit around Alpamayo, a mountain whose name in the native language means “earth river”.

The trail is one that has been used for hundreds and even thousands of years and along the way are stone walls that date back to pre-Incan times. The local people also use this land for grazing so there are hundreds of livestock roaming the valleys covering the otherwise picturesque landscape in their droppings.

There are a few optional detours that lead to milky turquoise coloured lakes cradled at the foot of Alpamayo. From those lakes it is likely you’ll hear the rumble of an avalanche being unleashed, and if you’re lucky you might get to see one.

The trek weaves up and over enough steep mountain passes to make you pretty tired of walking uphill, but the views are well worth it. In such a steep landscape, trekking is hard going. The thin air at high altitude makes breathing difficult and exhaustion easy.

For us, the end of each day was greeted kindly with a hot cup of tea and as the cold settled in for the night we curled up in our sleeping bags and went to sleep with an impossible amount of stars hanging above us.

by Rachel Mclaren

June 2014

rachelmclarenphotography.com
thosewanderingdays.com
@thosewanderingdays

Torres del Paine National Park, Chile (Towers of the Paine)

Located in the South of the Chilean Andes, the Torres del Paine National Park occupies 2,400 km2 of pristine valleys, crumbling glaciers and epic mountain peaks. The park is open year round, however the summer months of December - March make for manageable conditions and breathtakingly clear views. This is not to say that the elements offer comfortable hiking conditions during this time. Be prepared for the likes of torrential rains and gale force winds.

The ‘W Trek’ (named due to it’s topographical shape) is generally a four day hike with the option of an additional day to walk into the park itself. Our Patagonian posse, consisting of two Australians and two Germans, opted to take advantage of the additional day. This allowed us to acclimatise, break in our gear and take advantage of the surreal panoramic views of a place regarded as ‘the jewel of the Andes’. Refugio’s and campartmento’s can be found at convenient spots along the general route, with roughly half of campsites being free of charge. I highly recommend that you bring a compact stove, cooking pots and plenty of high carb foods to keep your energy levels up. Note that five consecutive nights of tuna pasta and orange cordial is not always a bad thing. Also note that the water you are drinking is fresh from glaciers and mountain ranges, therefore it is not only drinkable, but some of the best, most untainted water in the world.

Days 2, 3 and 4 are tough, lengthy days where eight hours of walking becomes almost second nature. The blisters and sweat drenched clothes become all but forgotten when you finally reach the likes of Glacier Grey and Mirador Britanico. Glacier Grey offers an incredible opportunity to relax and watch as large portions of ice break off the glacier and crash into the frozen waters of Lago Grey. Mirador Britanico is one of the top spots to marvel at the surrounding mountain ranges of the park.

Day 5 is arguably the most enjoyable day. Wake up early and make the 45 minute walk through pitch black to experience the Torres as the sun comes up. If you’re lucky you’ll witness the mountains glow red as the morning sun reflects off the tower like structures. It’s a rare occurrence, that I unfortunately didn’t get to see. So if you’re lucky enough to catch a glimpse of it, make sure that you send me a photo. Beware that the wind at the Base de Las Torres can be overpoweringly strong. We witnessed one mans sleeping bag get blown out of his arms and in to the near by lake on day one of his hike. A mistake that would have lead to a few frozen nights.

The Torres del Paine National Park is full of incredible scenery and a diverse range of hikes for all skill levels. It is also something that can be experienced on a relatively limited budget. Lastly, keep your eye out for an Andean Puma. Very few people will ever spot one, but National Geographic has taught me that they are a sight to behold.

Total distance: 88km Approx

Days: 4-6

December, 2014

benburgess.com.au

Itinerary

Day 1: Administración - Campamento Paine Grande / 5hrs / 17km

Day 2: Campamento Paine Grande - Refugio Grey - Campamento Paine Grande / 8hrs / 24km

Day 3: Campamento Paine Grande - Mirador Britanico - Campamento Los Cuernos / 9hrs / 22km

Day 4: Campamento Los Cuernos - Campamento Torres / 7hrs / 15km

Day 5: Campamento Torres - Base de Las Torres - Hotel Las Torres / 5hrs / 12km

Everest’s Three Passes Solukhumbu Region Nepal

This challenging 18 day trek is guaranteed to satisfy the most addicted
mountain-junkie, traversing three of the world’s highest passes without
the need of technical mountaineering gear.

If you’re crazy about mountains, which you should be, then the Everest
region has been on the top of your bucket list for a while now. Most people just join the crowds and make their way directly to Base Camp. Yet with over 1,000 people now living there during the on-season, an alternate route is developing that is even more challenging, more remote, and more rewarding– The Three Passes. The hike starts off from the “world’s most dangerous airport”, at an elevation greater than any point in Australia. Passing ancient monasteries and Sherpa villages, it doesn’t take too long before you leave the tree line behind and find yourself completely surrounded by the world’s highest peaks. From here you’ll spend the better part of the next fortnight descending and ascending
the Kongma La (5,528m), Cho La (5,420m) and Renjo La (5,340m) – staying in a series of small hiking villages between. Prepare yourself for daily alpenglow, massive glaciers and some serious altitudes.

The best bit: during the seasons this route doesn’t require any technical
mountaineering gear or experience. Leave that icepick at home and bring spare camera batteries instead. Getting there: many major airlines fly from Australia to Kathmandu. From there catch a domestic flight with Tara Air to Lukla where you will begin the trek.

by Michael Poland

Route: Gotthardhospiz - dam Lago Lucendro - Lago d'Orsino - Laghi d'Orsirora - Gatscholalücke - Laghi di Valletta - Lago Lucendro - Gotthardhospiz

As an introduction, this walk is set in Switzerland, at the border between the Italian and German speaking regions by the infamous Gotthardpass (Italian:Passo del San Gottardo). The pass has been a major and strategic link between Italy and Switzerland since the middle ages, highly fortified and occupied during the wars. It was further developed during the twentieth century with sealed highways and currently the worlds longest alpine tunnels, the region now displays a unique and very Swiss feel with its surreal mix of colossal concrete dams and a web of power lines calmly and comfortably imbedded in one of the most picturesque and traditionally beauty blessed mountainscapes in the Alps.

Atop the pass is the Ospizio San Gottardo, a particularly serene work of architecture by Basel based practice Miller & Maranta, who’s bluntly subtle renovation of an ancient Alpine Hospice is an essential night spent with views all the way to Italy.
From here the 4 or so hour walk scrambles amongst military pill boxes disguised as boulders and multiple generations of highways that weave through a misty moss covered landscape that shrugs indifferently at these brief scars of civilisation. As you head towards the towering wall of the dam of Lago di Lucendro the walk begins steeply up a scramble of tussock passed abandoned hydro buildings and spillways. From here the walking is straight forward, just follow the painted rocks until you have passed 5 increasingly beautiful lakes. Towards the top is a necessary side walk to the ‘Passo d’Orsirora / Gatscholalücke 2528m), the views from here are west towards the French speaking valleys and the neighbouring ‘Furkapass’ where James Bond raced his Aston in ‘Goldfinger’.
Take your swimmers for the lakes.
For the experienced the pass can completed on cross country ski's during thewinter.

13.22km

by Nicholas Ashby
2014

montyfairview.com

Lake Waikaremoana is a place I grew up visiting as a kid. Both my parents actually helped build a lot of the hiking tracks in this area so it’s a pretty special place to me.
We arrived just after midday to the main campsite which after driving through vigorously windy roads and then a further 1.5hours on unsealed road is a beautiful sight. This place remains fairly untouched as it is very remote and isolated. We hired a chalet for the night due to time restrictions Which is a great choice if you are in a small group as they come equipped with a fridge and cooker. Also since the air can be very very cold all year around it’s a great place to take refuge at night with a hot cup of tea.

The walk starts at the main lake (Waikaremoana) and stretches through dense native New Zealand bush rising up to 300m in altitude. It’s really something walking along a track knowing you will more than likely not bump into anyone along the way. The air is fresh, the colours are vibrant and when you get to Lake Waikareiti the view is breath taking. The lake itself is crystal clear and you can walk out at least 200meters without in gaining any depth. Once back at our chalet at the main lake we opted for a few smaller walks to some historic native trees and different views of the lake. Definitely take warm clothes and if you want to get food from the store it closes at 6pm so be aware of that too.

Lake Waikaremoana is often referred to by Tūhoe people in the saying ‘Ko Waikaremoana te wai kaukau a ngā tīpuna’ (Waikaremoana, the bathing waters of the ancestors).

The following story is about the formation of the lake…

There once lived a rangatira named Māhu. He had many children. Māhu and his family lived at Waikotikoti on the shores of Lake Wairaumoana. One day Māhu told his daughter Haumapuhia (Hau) to go and fetch water from a certain spring. Hau refused. Enraged, her father drowned her and threw her body into the waters, where she was transformed into a monster, or taniwha.

After this, Māhu left the region. Haumapuhia remained in the spring at Wairaumoana, but she longed to reach the sea. She tried to go northward, but the Huiarau range prevented her; she tried to go east but failed again. Her attempts to force her way to the sea gouged out and formed Lake Waikaremoana (sea of rippling waters). Her final effort formed the outlet to the lake at Onepoto. It was here that Hau was overtaken by daylight, exhausted. She remains to this day in the form of a rock, with the waters of the lake running through her body.

source : http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/hawkes-bay-places/page-12

by Ben Clement

benclementphoto.com

2015

THE CEDAR WALK TOGAKUSHI NAGANO JAPAN:

Togakushi village is a small township in the Joshinetsu National Park in the Japanese alps, about 45 minutes by bus from Nagano city. It’s a beautiful skiing, hiking and spiritual destination that is also renowned for its soba noodles. The Cedar walk to the Okusha shrine is by no means the hardest walk ever done, at only 4-5 kms roundtrip but if you do it in November it’s dang icy and may take a little longer. Having said that while I was there I saw a girl do it in high heels so…

Other than a few hairy patches of solid frozen ice on stone steps it’s so casual. You have heaps of time to take in the beauty of the tree lined path and the snow capped mountains visible between them. There are plenty of longer and harder walks in the park but the cedar walk is one of the most popular for it’s spirituality and history.

Now to eating… Togakushi is well known for it’s long history of incredible soba I don’t know if it’s the picturesque location, the chill in the air or the general alpine vibe, but the reviews do not lie. It has the most delicious, flavoursome and textured noodles i’ve ever slurped. And the tempura prawn aint bad either. We ate at ‘Uzuraya’ which is a classic looking Japanese restaurant with a noodle making viewing room on the street.

All in all this is a real good time.

Uzaraya (soba)
3229 Togakushi, Nagano 381-4101, Nagano Prefecture

by Max Blackmore

2013

noscribbles.com

naturaltombstone.tumblr.com

So I arrived on a freezing cold frosty morning, perfectly clear and open sky.
I basically ran the first leg to the first hut, because when I’m down in the forest and can tell its sunny up top I get hell FOMO for the views.

The first part of forest is very calm and pretty, on the banks of lake Te Anau. There are some pretty cool caves on the way up to the tussock plains that are worth the stop (Its a pretty hectic climb up though). I read somewhere that originally the mountain was owned by some farmer who would walk his sheep all the way up through the bush just to graze up top, camp for a few nights then come back down, which really seems rather impossible seeing how dense some of the bush is. When you get up the views are amazing up Lake Te Anau to the southern alps and across the Kepler mountains. Walking across some tussok (type of grass) plains for a bit until you get to the first hut.

Waking up in the morning with no wind overnight and very cold meant there was a thick layer of cloud that just hung all day at about 1000M and never rose so the views were incredible. Your second day is spent following a sharp ridge line all with a couple of emergency shelters and funny toilets hanging off cliffs, there is a side summit that is worth the extra hike and there is normally plenty of snow if your in the shoulder season, also watch out for deer as there are still a lot roaming about.

After traversing the high ridge right into the mountains for a while you can see right up into the south branch of Lake Te Anau and the glaciers of Fiordland. then there is a very steep descent into a dark valley with old stunted forest. The next hut although picturesque is exceptionally cold and trapped in a little valley which while I was there was blanketed with frozen frosty fog. It’s a well maintained hut with a river and waterfall included.
 
The next two days are a slogg through bush, forest, fern groves, mudslides, tussock plains and eventually the banks of Lake Manapouri. When you come out you find yourself in a gravel carpark in the middle of nowhere, I just hitchhiked back to Te Anau town with some bogan nutter pulling bongs and drinking beers while driving.

by Nicholas Ashby

2012

www.montyfairview.com

This grade three scramble is one of the more notorious climbs in the Highlands, which follows the entire north ridge of Glencoe for 10km, linking two munro's (Scottish mountains over 3000ft).

Its bark is worse than its bite, however, if conditions are good and you don’t mind sheer drops and awkward scrambling then this is an exhilarating route with outstanding views. For the most part the holds are good and the rock is sound.

A Completely absorbing 10km scramble with incredible views. But on a negative note the trail ends 10kms from where you start so you have to hike back up the Glen to your car (worst option) or hitch a lift back up (recommended).

by David Boyson Cooper

2012

davidboysoncooper.com

This hike through the Talassemtane National Park cuts through a deep valley in the Rif Mountains, a mountain range famous for once being among the largest producers of hash in the world (but the title is now held by a region of Afghanistan). The day hike takes about 3 - 4 hours round trip, but you'd want to add at least an hour to swim at Akchour Cascades.

Follow the creek that leads from the entrance to the park. There's no real signage on the hike and not much of a map. There's not much of a trail to follow either but so long as you keep the river in your sights it's going to lead you to the waterfall.

At one point you have to scramble over some boulders but there's some writing on a rock to let you know you're going the right way. After you've been hiking for about
an hour and a half you'll enter a patch of dark cedar forest inhabited by monkeys. Continue a bit further and you'll find some tents and makeshift cabins along the river and you'll know you're nearly at the falls. The falls only get sun when it's at it's peak so leave early if you can because by mid afternoon the water will be in shade and it gets pretty cold.

by Samuel J Davison

2013
www.samueljdavison.com

With around 5 million visitors each year, it’s no wonder that the national park is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the “Most Visited National Park per Unit Area”. Seoul has more than 25 million people in its metro area, (2nd largest city in the world) and from the top of Mt Dobongsan you look over it all, its crazy.

We caught the train to Dobongsan station which is about an hour from Seoul, and on the weekend will be packed full of people in high tech hiking gear. I'm really not exaggerating when I say that the Koreans are obsessed with hiking, every single person was kitted out with the most high tech and latest brand new North Face or Patagonia gear, head to toe, old and young.

The park has a lot of trails but it all seems to be about finding the most remote rock sticking out of the forest so you can sit down and have a picnic. There are also lots of people praying to passers by on the way up. If the fog isn’t too thick you get great views of the city around you, sprawling forever.

by Nicholas Ashby

2011

www.montyfairview.com