Climbing Mt Taranaki

“Climbing a mountain is about commitment,” says Mt Taranaki/Egmont guide Ian MacAlpine. I’m sitting on his couch in Stratford, Taranaki, eager to climb the mountain that looms through the window. “No-one will be summiting today, the wind’s not right,” Ian says. I look out the window to see a near perfect blue sky, and the mountain covered in what appears to be a dusting of non-threatening whispy white cloud. I think maybe he’s a bit loopy - it looks great to me.
Over the next few hours Ian tells me many incredible stories of his exploits in his younger days, like the time he completed a solo grand traverse of Mt Cook in 28.5 hours, or when he climbed Mt Taranaki/Egmont four times in one day. Ian MacAlpine is a man that has certainly lived up to his prophetic last name, a true man of the outdoors.
Suddenly Ian jumps up - his washing is on the line, and it’s raining. Dark and foreboding clouds have completely covered the mountain. It dawned on me then, this man really knows this mountain, with over 1650 summits to his name, there really is no one more experienced on Mt Taranaki/Egmont than Ian. I guess I’m the one that’s a bit loopy, as I would have attempted the climb based on the weather a few hours earlier and now I’d either be turning back or in some serious strife.
Serious strife is something that too many people find themselves in on Mt Taranaki/Egmont. Because the mountain is climbable in summer in shorts, a t-shirt and good running shoes, punters think they can climb it in winter with little experience and inadequate equipment. Too many of these people have fallen victim to the extremely icy and dangerous conditions present on the mountain in winter. However with an experienced guide the climb is attainable for those without the experience that would be needed if attempting the climb on their own.
After meeting Ian and discovering my naivety with the weather I make my way back to Hamilton with the hope that Monday will provide the weather required to make the summit.
Monday morning hasn’t even dawned and I’m up (3am) and in the car on the way to New Plymouth. Heavy fog slows my progress for most of the three-hour trip, hiding any signs of what the weather may hold for me.
Arriving in North Egmont, the meeting point and start of the climb, the entire mountain is hidden in cloud. I’m apprehensive as to whether or not we’re going to make the summit, but have my fingers crossed.
Ian’s ready to go and once I get myself sorted we head off - “time is of the essence when climbing the mountain at this time of year,” explains Ian. We get away 20mins late, as I was a bit late in arriving. “This 20mins could be the difference between summiting or not,” says Ian - at this time of year (September) it’s not staying light very late so we need to be off the mountain by four.
The first stage of the climb is a leisurely walk up a track to the Alpine Club’s Tahurangi Lodge. Ian uses this time to learn what it is I want to achieve out of my day and what it is he tries to achieve each day he’s on the mountain. He also uses this time to make sure you understand that it’s not a race; a steady unrelenting pace is the key to summiting. I try to absorb everything I hear like a sponge, for me this day is not just about climbing Mt Taranaki but also about learning as much as I can from one of New Zealand’s most experienced mountain climbers.
A couple hundred metres shy of Tahurangi Lodge the track disappears under a thick layer of snow. We stop and put on our crampons. The climb has begun.
Within a hundred metres we burst through the cloud, Mt Taranaki towers over us, a great snowy peak in an ocean of cloud. No sound can be heard apart from the crunch of our crampons into the snow.
The sun beats down on the two of us as we make our way up the lower part of the mountain; it’s going to be a hot one. The snow softens, making the going that little bit tougher and slower; it’s certainly going to be no walk in the park.
Slowly it begins to feel like we’re making some progress, the windblown cornices at the summit look closer now than they did two hours ago. After a couple hours of steady climbing Ian decides it’s time to rope up, with no complaints from me. Until you stand on the slopes it’s difficult to appreciate the steepness, and the fact that if you fall the only thing that’s going to stop you is a bluff or the bush, 2km below.
Cramponing technique is crucial here, where ice is commonplace. One slip could take the two of us tumbling down. Ian ensures that my technique is sound and we continue zigzagging our way towards the summit. The heat is beginning to take its toll, my legs feel fatigued and the summit still looks a long way away.
About half way up we take a short break on a small shelf, a chance to stop and admire the views and take on some much needed fuel. A climb of this intensity requires optimum hydration and energy so supplements are certainly recommended, particularly on a hot day such as this. Mark Inglis’s PeakFuel is a great choice and I chow down a Summit bar and gulp down a Solo Shot.
Across the sea of cloud I can now make out the summit of Ruapehu in the distance. Even though we’re only about half way up it feels like we’re on top of the world.
The next phase of the climb becomes more technical and dangerous, serious concentration is required from here onwards. We slowly zigzag our way through a field of small windblown ice cornices before finally making our way out onto the final section to the summit. This section is the steepest and most exposed yet. Gusts whip across us as we climb. Certain areas here require us to put our ice axes to work and climb directly up, virtually lying flat against the slope. This technique is tiring but effective and we make some good elevation gains.
Before I know it we’ve reached the crater; a little further up and we’re standing on the summit. Ian congratulates me and shakes my hand, as he would have done many many times for other climbers. I look around me 360 degrees and truly feel on top of the world. The only visible landmark is Ruapehu, poking its head through the cloud. “Half way there,” Ian says. A good point. Too many people fall victim to the belief that once they’ve made the summit it’s all over and it’s easy on the way down. This couldn’t be further from the truth, going up is the ‘easy’ part, it’s heading down that’s dangerous. Tired legs and minds too often lead to silly mistakes.
Ian’s phone rings. “Good timing” he says. He talks for a moment to someone interested in being guided up so they can ski from the summit. Ian lets them know that he isn’t keen to be involved, for any price. “I don’t like it, I can guide these people up and they are under my complete control, but once they start skiing down I lose that control and these guys are still my responsibility.” Spring does offer tempting skiing conditions, however the risk level is very high, falling on slopes this steep could be deadly.
We take a few photos and make our way down to a more sheltered area to have a quick lunch. We’re on the clock and have to be off the mountain by 4pm. The climb took us six hours, leaving North Egmont at 7am and summiting at 1pm.  
Before beginning the descent Ian gives me a quick run-down on how we’ll descend and what type of techniques we’ll use. Once we hit the edge of the crater we descend sideways foot by foot for about a hundred metres, getting a feel for the descent before we point our boots down the slope and start really moving. We use a few different techniques as we descend through different types of snow, concentrating on making sure each foot placement is secure before placing the next.
The further we descend the more the snow softens and the going gets quicker and easier, we’re really going for it now. Just when I start to relax a tyre-sized piece of ice rips past us at a hundred miles an hour. “That was close,” Ian quips. We watch the piece of ice hurdle its way all the way to the bottom of the mountain. I suddenly remember where I am, and we’re not down safely yet. We move out of the valley and up onto a ridge where we’ll be safer from any further ice barrages.
We descend back into thick cloud and Ian somehow navigates his way back to the track. We remove our rope, crampons and helmets and I feel an immense feeling of achievement. It’s been a tough, long day. Nine hours up and back, but absolutely worth it. I now really appreciate the fact that Ian has climbed Mt Taranaki so many times, and three times in the last four days - wow.
We make our way back down the track to the North Egmont visitor centre and part ways after a truly amazing experience.
Mt Taranaki/Egmont is a climb that will certainly test you physically and mentally. All that’s required is a moderate level of fitness and plenty of determination. You’ll learn a lot of basic mountaineering skills like correct cramponing techniques and some basic rope-work. I certainly recommend this climb to anyone that is interested in pushing his or her limits or looking to get a taste for mountain climbing. Using a guide is highly recommended and will not only improve your odds of making it down alive but will also make it a much more enjoyable experience.