Adventure Magazine

“The contents of my backpack cost more than any
of the five vans I’ve owned,” I thought as I scratched
around in vain for a decent hold. With the pump about to
overwhelm, I squeezed all my insides together, grasped
some crappy sloper, squeezed tighter, and then hucked
high to what happened to be a reasonable hold.
"“The contents of my backpack cost
more than any of the five vans I’ve
owned,” I thought as I scratched
around in vain for a decent hold.
With the pump about to overwhelm,
I squeezed all my insides together,
grasped some crappy sloper,
squeezed tighter, and then hucked
high to what happened to be a
reasonable hold."
Pulling over the top was like stepping through the gates
of paradise. Soggy and damp, with weary fingers and
forearms, I emerged from a shaded face to a flat, grassy
ledge in the glorious, windless sunshine. Fears of my
falling camera were forgotten as I gazed out at the
Llawrenny Peaks, the spine of rock extending west of
Mitre Peak, and the shy heads of Pembroke, Tutoko and
Madeline.
A short scramble led us to a plateau complete with a
lake and perfect rock ledges, and some skinny-dipping
and sun-soaking was in order before heading back down
via a steep gully.
The following morning, we shouldered heavy packs and
headed up grassy slopes to the Llawrenny Peaks. The
views were immense: countless peaks all around us
and textured ridgelines leading southeast to Lake Ada
and the Arthur Valley. Terror Peak, tomorrow’s objective,
rose prominently on the southern ridgeline, gentle snow
slopes hugging the edges of her base.
Ben Grindle abseils down the top
part of Sinbad Wall, a 300m-high
overhanging face of granite in a
remote part of Fiordland.