Mount Fyffe

I met Clement & Ysee at Blenheim airport. I had been listening to an acoustic chill mix the whole flight and was in a sublime mood. As I waited kerbside, even through my airpods I heard their french tones as they walked by. Just a few minutes later they came back past and Clement approached me. I led with “ça va?”.

It had rained heavily in Blenheim overnight. Blenheim’s surrounding area including around the airport consists of flood plains. Many of the roads in this area have fords, and they were impassable after the rain. Additionally a new round-about construction at the airport had access from the west blocked off. With all this combined, my father was having trouble arriving to the airport!

It turns out Clement & Ysee were searching for a bus from the airport to town, which I didn’t know anything about, but I offered them a ride with us, not knowing it would be another thirty minutes till my Dad actually arrived. In the meantime we chatted in a fun mix of French and English.

They were staying the night in Blenheim, but the next day were destined for Kaikoura just like us that evening. As we dropped them off at their Blenheim accommodation, I hastily entered my number in their WhatsApp, so we could meet up in Kaikoura. When I didn’t receive any message from them that day, I figured I must have typo’d putting my number in! I went analog, rang the accommodation and left my number which worked. Then we bumped into them in town the next day anyway – of course!

We chatted about things we could do, and I asked them how fit they were, mentioning Mount Fyffe. There are many anecdotes over the years of people barely able to walk the next day after tackling the mountain. Nonetheless they said “should be ok” so it was game on! We scheduled it for two days later for the best weather, and aimed to set off from the carpark at 6am for the best experience.

Mount Fyffe is a four wheel drive track with consistent steepness and 1400m altitude gain: straight up, straight down. We left the carpark at 6.15am. As we got started Ysee set a seemingly slow pace that had me wondering how the day would go fitness wise. It was steady though, and in retrospect, given my thirteen extra years on the planet than them, rather intelligent.

They had only been in the country a week, and so everything was being seen through fresh eyes. They marvelled at the beauty of NZ native bush, and how it seemed so tropical: very different than the forests of the French alps. The language exchange was also in full swing. I will forever be guilty for setting off Clement’s perfectly cute overuse of saying “I’m partial to that” in place of e.g. “I’d like that”.

We climbed as the day rose. In my mind there are three stages to Fyffe, the first stage finishes at a grassy knoll area which is also the beginning of all the mountain bike tracks that have been put in on the lower part of the mountain. By this time, you’re already able to see south over the Kowhai river and towards Mt Lyford, as well as a large portion of the Kaikoura flats to the East. The view evolves rather than changes from here as you climb. You begin to feel more immersed in the mountains rather than looking up at them. This is a good stopping point for those who want a shorter walk.

The trees are less forest and more bush as we continue. Much of this section of the walk is spent looking across the Kowhai river valley which separates Mount Fyffe from the main Kaikoura ranges. It was surprisingly warm at the carpark given the summit forecast for ~0 degrees, not a cold morning. As we climb the air temperature cools while at the same time the rising sun heats, giving us steady temperature.

Clement had already fallen in love with Kaikoura. He was ready to settle here - at least for the bulk of their six months in NZ. As I thought about all the other places in NZ, I couldn’t really argue with that sentiment. It’s a small town in an absolutely spectacular location. French university students have the opportunity for a gap year mid way through their studies. They had tossed up between South America and NZ, but ultimately the chance to practice English tipped the balance to NZ.

After the zig-zag slog that marks the end of the second stage, and at around 9am, we arrive at the hut. There was snow spotted here and there from the previous days snowfall. They sat on the bench to take in the view. The elevated view of the Kaikoura peninsular is already spectacular from here. Many people treat the hut as a turnaround point.

As for us, we continued at our steady pace up the third and final stage – summit bound. Unfortunately wildling pines block the view after the hut for a period. The trail has changed to a well formed path rather than a vehicle track from here. The hut is 1100m so this is still a 500m grind to the top, but you really start to feel you are amongst the mountains, and perhaps for this reason it feels like it goes quickly. There is a small false summit, and then one last push to the true summit.

Greeted by a trig marker, a summit sign, a few benches, a pang of hunger, and a sense of achievement we take in the 360° view. To the north the Puhi Puhi valley presents some flatness amongst the mountains, with smaller hills dividing it and the sea. Beyond that we can see Wellington. To the East is the uninhibited Kaikoura Flats and peninsular, with the surrounding ocean a myriad of blues and the mixing of grey river water causing gradations extending along the coastline. To the south we can see Banks Peninsular, beautiful white cliffs extending into the ocean, a beautiful lake and the valley through which Kaikoura’s inland road travels. To the west, covered in spring snow, the line of peaks that form the Seaward Kaikoura Ranges, each spectacular in it’s own right.

We are high enough that the elements feel raw. The sun shines intently with a glaring heat while the cool mountain air breezes give the cheeks something to brace against. It’s a mix of earth raw and unhindered and a feeling of being in the heavens. One thing is true: we all got up early for this, and there is no hurry to go down. After a number of panoramic photos taken, we eat lunch and take a solid half hour nap, fully covered from the Sun.

Waking completely hot and toasted, we take in the view a little further and then begin to make our way down the mountain around 1.30pm. The hardest part about making ones way down the mountain, is that it’s seemingly endless. Even if the third and second stage go ok, by the time you hit the third, the legs are definitely aching. We search for walking sticks in the Manuka forest and try all sorts of creative methods to give the primary shock absorbing muscles a break. I was actually quite spritely, but I must admit, the moment I pushed it in anyway, I realised Ysee’s excellent pace setting was the only thing keeping me from injuring myself in my enthusiasm.

My mountain companions were becoming good friends. Beneath Ysee’s quieter demeanour I began to understand there was a very sharp mind and a wicked sense of humour that could run circles around you if you weren’t careful. As we neared the carpark, I tried to do one more bit of the guide thing and introduced them to Kawakawa - a native plant in the pepper family that can be used to make great teas. They loved it. We arrived at the carpark about 4.30pm. A brilliant day, very well done.

The next day I was confident enough to wake up and go for a run. Then Clement and I helped my Dad move three pellets of concrete bricks down a ten metre hill. I was feeling strong, but by the next day the “courbatures” (muscle aches) properly kicked in, I was stiff to walk, and definitely didn’t want to run. I’d earned them I supposed. Not for my younger companions though - they barely felt a thing in the following days. Thank goodness for Ysee’s pace setting, as it seemed like I was ultimately the weakest link!