Dancing On Mountain Tops

With all of my running on the flat, I have been yearning to run in the mountains.  The peaks have been calling me, tantalisingly close.  So on Friday, I heeded their call, and made my second attempt to run up Little Mount Peel. 

I woke up earlier than normal, and headed west.  I tentatively began my climb, the first section up a steep little section of road.  My poor legs started to burn after the first few meters, and I quailed, thinking that I had lost all of my uphill fitness.  Breaking on to the trail, and along a gentle undulating section, my legs began to warm up, and the leg-screaming subsided.

Then the climbing began in earnest.

The last time I embarked on the Mt Peel climb, I quickly reached deep snow, and so although the views and I rose were familiar, I was seeing the trail for the first time.  Areas of snow obscured trail that I slithered and fallen on, were revealed to comprise of knee and waist height steps, no wonder I struggled the first time!

The weather was calm and warm, the sun injecting warm fingers of heat into the crisp alpine air.  I quickly passed the point that I had reached on my last expedition.  The views were just stunning – the vast plains stretching out to the ocean, ever further below.

The higher I progressed up the ridge, the more technical the terrain became, with steep sections interspersed with flat and gloriously muddy bits.  I was feeling pretty chuffed with myself for managing to run so much of this very-up-hill trail (well I was running up a mountain!), and the bits I couldn't run I was scrambling on my hands-near to rock climbing through the tussock, and up lichen crusted rock.

About two thirds of the way to the summit, I still had a really steep section of ridge to ascend, but as I climbed, my progress felt more manageable than I had imagined.  Some tenacious soul(s) had carefully laid hundreds of meters of board walk to protect the delicate alpine eco system from the tread of exploring feet.  I marveled at the enormity and logistics of such an enterprise – and felt simultaneously proud of and sad for our beloved Department of Conservation, the under-appreciated and politically sidelined guardian of our most precious native assets.

Excited to be so close to the top - the shelter and trig station in the background

Cresting the last major climb before the summit, I was almost overcome by the beauty of my surroundings (I think that my senses and emotions are heightened exertion), and felt so pleased to have nearly achieved my goal.  I could see the Tristram Harper Shelter in the distance, and the trig station and the peak.  Behind me the mountain dropped sharply away.  In front, Middle and Big Mount Peel blended into the ranks of snow capped peaks marching forward from the Southern Alps.  All around me, in the rustic golds and greens of the quintessential New Zealand alpine environment, Little Mount Peel was beautiful and splendid.  Now I was running through the brilliant blue sky.

Middle Mt Peel and Big Mt Peel

I pushed forward with renewed vigour, my spirits soaring high, buoyed on by being so close to the top.  The track the led to the shelter dropped away extremely steeply, and sidled along, dodging treacherous patches of snow that would send the callously-footed climber over the edge.  Behind the hut, the last few meters of track wound up to the very peak itself.

Trig Station on the peak of Little Mt Peel

And then there I was, standing on the top of the world.  The view was amazing, but the tranquillity and sense of achievement was breathtaking.   I literally danced on the top of the mountain top with joy.

After drinking in the view, I sat on the shelter steps drenched in sunlight, and gobbled up a couple of muesli bars – chocolate and apricot never tastes as good as it does on a mountain top.  I stayed for ages, and didn’t want to leave (except that I was looking forward to more running).

View Glorious View

I explored the shelter interior, which was delightful, before plunging back down the mountain.  The run back down was so much fun (and a little hair rising in sections).  I relish knowing that even a few months ago I would have struggled much more with the terrain than I did.  I flew back down the board walks, and took great bounding leaps down the steps.  I splashed though the mud, and am not ashamed to admit that I even turned around and ran back through some of the muddiest sections, just for the joy of splashing through the thick of it.

Tristram Harper Shelter

The sun had really warmed up the day, and I was boiling as I ran back down, grateful for the shade as I reached the bush line.  It seems that the core strengthening exercises I have been doing are also helping with my running form, and I felt strong and stable as I descended.

Its always a good day on the trails when you are covered in mud 

This amazing and beautiful run has to be one of the best that I have ever had – confirming that running in the mountains is definitely my favourite.  I can’t wait to practice this route more in the future, and improve my speed and footwork over steep and technical terrain.  I also can’t wait to discover more beautiful peaks.

Less than a week to go until my next race, the much anticipated 50km, it is going to be great (although I do hear mutterings about snow).  EEEEK!