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| Blaine Harrington |
Mount Cook, the Kiwi Eiger
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Believing as I do that you can go home again, at least briefly, I returned to The Mackenzie last year—driving a rental, thank you—to go deep one more time. As Mackenzie's questionable example had long been on my mind, I made a point of reading up on his exploits and made the obelisk my first stop.
An inspiration to generations of wilderness-loving Kiwis, Mackenzie was born in Scotland and arrived in New Zealand in 1850. According to a fellow Scottish crofter (who in the 1890s told a younger shepherd, who in turn wrote all this down in the 1940s), Mackenzie was six feet tall, muscular but thin, and known for claiming (when convenient) to understand
only Gaelic.
Mackenzie was respected then as now for one thing: He went bush like no one has ever gone bush. The Maori were fierce warriors who had only just ceased active warfare against the British, and the colonials were still too afraid of the unknown interior to venture there. Mackenzie was not. During the early 1850s he repeatedly crossed over the mountains and
disappeared for months at a time, exploring and living off the land. Only his dog, Friday, would accompany him. By 1855 colonists on the coast were calling the interior "Mackenzie's Country," a name that stuck even when Mackenzie's reputation went south, too.
It turned out that wherever Mackenzie passed, sheep disappeared. In those days cattle rustling was virtually the Celtic national sport, and Mackenzie had trained Friday to lead the stolen mobs over a new pass he had discovered (and which now bears his name). Meanwhile, the Highlander would walk a different route, ready to claim he knew nothing about any
stolen cars—I mean, animals.
John Sidebottom and those two Maori shepherds with the odd names finally caught Mackenzie red-handed one rainy March day in 1855. As the story goes, they tied him up and left him on the ground. But by the time they finished rounding up the "borrowed" sheep, they returned to find their prisoner gone. Legend has it that Friday chewed through his master's
ropes.
Later, Mackenzie was captured again. He was bound, this time with chains, but as they led Mackenzie toward jail he made a break for it anyway. He only got a few hundred yards before gunfire cut his legs out from under him. The wounds proved superficial, however, and he escaped again a short time later.
Escape, in other words, is the point of the place. And today, it still offers territory as free and empty as any escape artist could desire.
BUSH IN 2000
The South Island's best tramping trails
Like Patagonia, the Mackenzie and Fiordland are wild, lonely places with volatile climates, extreme winds, and, thus, some of the most experienced search-and-rescue teams in the world. The message is clear: Respect the mountain when you step out. That said, even if you have only a week to go bush, there are three excellent
trails—tracks, in local parlance—that range from easy to perilous.
Serious climbers shouldn't miss out on Mount Cook. At 12,349 feet, it's the tallest peak in the Southern Alps and is conveniently ringed by climbing schools and ski-plane and helicopter outfits that lift a constant stream of mountaineers onto Tasman Glacier, which stretches over much of the mountain's topside. Many of the tracks in Mount Cook
National Park can be done in a day; overnight stays require filing an intention form at the Department of Conservation Visitor Centre at Aoraki Mount Cook Village (011-64-3-435-1819).
The Copland Pass hike, which runs out to the west coast, takes four days and is rated the most challenging tramp in New Zealand. Collapsing moraine walls have made the route even more dangerous. Suffice it to say, don't attempt Copland Pass without technical climbing experience. To learn about trail conditions and to pay hut fees—there
are Appalachian-Trail-style huts (right) along the route—check in at the Aoraki Mount Cook Village Visitor Centre.
The spectacular and more accessible Routeburn Track leads south from Queenstown and takes four days and three nights to complete. It connects Mount Aspiring with Fiordland National Park via the Harris Saddle, and during the summer (October to April) is so popular that you have to book a backcountry pass three to five days in advance. For
conditions and reservations, contact the Glenorchy Visitor Centre (442-9937) or Fiordland National Park Visitor Centre (249-7924; fiordlandvc@doc.govt.nz). —P.S.
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