Mitre Peak: Guardian of Milford
Along with Aoraki/Mt Cook, Mitre Peak is an instantly recognisable Kiwi mountain icon. Photographs of it are found in many of our publications such as the Air New Zealand magazine which I read this morning on the plane to Christchurch. It is interesting therefore that it is so infrequently climbed. Part of the reason of course is that you have to cross 1-5 kilometres of open water and it is not straightforward either hiring a boat or arranging to be dropped of there. An easier option is to take your own boat (if you have one of course) and this is how I approach the peak.
I have summitted the peak three times over the years by a direct route up from the sound between Mitre Peak and its outlier "The Footstool". Ivan Strang I believe first pioneered the route years ago. Recently I took a party of friends out for a very enjoyable and successful climb and this is our story.
The weather this summer had been poor with an inordinate number of south westerlies bringing unsettled weather over the mountains. As my holidays approached I started tracking an anticyclone moving into the Australian Bight on the Australian Weather maps. These predicted it should reached
Fiordland by Sunday so we decided to start on Saturday evening and kayak over to the base. I took two singles kayaks for Frank and I while Kevin and Simon borrowed my Feathercraft double.
We arrived in Milford to clearing skies and clouds of sand flies. We wasted no time in loading our kayaks with all our equipment. Then we were away our paddles slicing into the obsidian-black waters propelling our kayaks into a gentle swell. We passed Sinbad valley on the left, then around the steep
cliffs and bush of the Footstool to the vast expanse of Mitre Peak dropping sheer into Milford Sound. An hour later I spotted our pullout point, a low series of rock and ledges covered in sea week. Landing is always a trick. I sent Simon and Kevin in first and used the double as a fender so we could get ashore. Then we got all our kayaks up into the forest and set off looking for a suitable place to bivi. About five minutes along towards the waterfall we stumbled onto a huge overhanging rock with a dry level floor which I modestly named "Stanley's Bivi Rock" and here we spent the night.
I slept through the alarm so it was about 7.30am before we got away. Before we headed up I jumped into one of the kayaks and cruised out into the sound to get a visual on the route. Once I had this sorted out we headed up thought tall ferns amid steep wooded slopes. Higher up I recognised some of the cliffs I¹d climbed previously. The route was fairly straightforward up
to a broad band of cliffs 150 metre high that bar the route to the col at 800 metres. We turned these on the left. The near vertical slopes have trees growing on ledges and its a strenuous pull upwards especially with packs on. At three quarters height a ledge slopes upwards to the right and up this
we climbed to reach the final thick bush slopes leading to the col.
In a small clearing on the col we rested for lunch. The sun was warm as we lay on the grass while tomtits flitted about. To the north the glaciated Pembroke Peak reached high into the blue sky. Soon we were off climbing through the last of the forest to bush line. From here it was a steady climb
up tussock slopes that steepened to a very narrow steep ridge culminating in a broad rocky ridge above. Here the route does a turn to the right leading to a deep breech . Here we descended about 25 metres and faced a vertical step on the other side. At first glance this looks vertical and forbidding but on closer inspection there are lots of holds. Higher up is another awkward bit and I knew the route from my previous visits so it was no problem. The route climbs up beside a prominent gendarme, crosses the top and moves left to a chock stone beneath a vertical wall. This was easily surmounted and at 4pm we arrived on the summit 8.5 hours after leaving the bottom.
The views were superlative in all around. The whole of the Tasman Sea was spread out to the west and the surf at Yates Point to the north was visible. To the south were the Llawrennys and below our ridge dropped towards the rounded bush covered crown of Footstool.
As time was moving on we did not linger and after a round of photos we were descending. I had marked the route through the cliff band below the col and we fair flew down this. Darkness fell when we were still 150 metres above the water and grovelled down the remainder of the route in the dark and amazingly we struck our bivi on target. Simon stripped off and went for a swim in the dark waters of the sound but the rest of us were too knackered to follow. We got our camping gear out of the kayaks and stumbled back to the cave to spend the night. I lay on the ground as Simon hunched over his stove cooking dinner in the gloom. Above glow worms hung off the roof and through the trees the light of the Milford Wanderer reflected off the dark waters several kilometres away in Harrison Cove.
An account of a trip up Mitre Peak on 8 February 2004 by members of the Southland Sea Kayak Network: Simon Marwick, Kevin Pasco, Frank Johnston and Stan Mulvany.
I have summitted the peak three times over the years by a direct route up from the sound between Mitre Peak and its outlier "The Footstool". Ivan Strang I believe first pioneered the route years ago. Recently I took a party of friends out for a very enjoyable and successful climb and this is our story.
The weather this summer had been poor with an inordinate number of south westerlies bringing unsettled weather over the mountains. As my holidays approached I started tracking an anticyclone moving into the Australian Bight on the Australian Weather maps. These predicted it should reached
Fiordland by Sunday so we decided to start on Saturday evening and kayak over to the base. I took two singles kayaks for Frank and I while Kevin and Simon borrowed my Feathercraft double.
We arrived in Milford to clearing skies and clouds of sand flies. We wasted no time in loading our kayaks with all our equipment. Then we were away our paddles slicing into the obsidian-black waters propelling our kayaks into a gentle swell. We passed Sinbad valley on the left, then around the steep
cliffs and bush of the Footstool to the vast expanse of Mitre Peak dropping sheer into Milford Sound. An hour later I spotted our pullout point, a low series of rock and ledges covered in sea week. Landing is always a trick. I sent Simon and Kevin in first and used the double as a fender so we could get ashore. Then we got all our kayaks up into the forest and set off looking for a suitable place to bivi. About five minutes along towards the waterfall we stumbled onto a huge overhanging rock with a dry level floor which I modestly named "Stanley's Bivi Rock" and here we spent the night.
I slept through the alarm so it was about 7.30am before we got away. Before we headed up I jumped into one of the kayaks and cruised out into the sound to get a visual on the route. Once I had this sorted out we headed up thought tall ferns amid steep wooded slopes. Higher up I recognised some of the cliffs I¹d climbed previously. The route was fairly straightforward up
to a broad band of cliffs 150 metre high that bar the route to the col at 800 metres. We turned these on the left. The near vertical slopes have trees growing on ledges and its a strenuous pull upwards especially with packs on. At three quarters height a ledge slopes upwards to the right and up this
we climbed to reach the final thick bush slopes leading to the col.
In a small clearing on the col we rested for lunch. The sun was warm as we lay on the grass while tomtits flitted about. To the north the glaciated Pembroke Peak reached high into the blue sky. Soon we were off climbing through the last of the forest to bush line. From here it was a steady climb
up tussock slopes that steepened to a very narrow steep ridge culminating in a broad rocky ridge above. Here the route does a turn to the right leading to a deep breech . Here we descended about 25 metres and faced a vertical step on the other side. At first glance this looks vertical and forbidding but on closer inspection there are lots of holds. Higher up is another awkward bit and I knew the route from my previous visits so it was no problem. The route climbs up beside a prominent gendarme, crosses the top and moves left to a chock stone beneath a vertical wall. This was easily surmounted and at 4pm we arrived on the summit 8.5 hours after leaving the bottom.
The views were superlative in all around. The whole of the Tasman Sea was spread out to the west and the surf at Yates Point to the north was visible. To the south were the Llawrennys and below our ridge dropped towards the rounded bush covered crown of Footstool.
As time was moving on we did not linger and after a round of photos we were descending. I had marked the route through the cliff band below the col and we fair flew down this. Darkness fell when we were still 150 metres above the water and grovelled down the remainder of the route in the dark and amazingly we struck our bivi on target. Simon stripped off and went for a swim in the dark waters of the sound but the rest of us were too knackered to follow. We got our camping gear out of the kayaks and stumbled back to the cave to spend the night. I lay on the ground as Simon hunched over his stove cooking dinner in the gloom. Above glow worms hung off the roof and through the trees the light of the Milford Wanderer reflected off the dark waters several kilometres away in Harrison Cove.
An account of a trip up Mitre Peak on 8 February 2004 by members of the Southland Sea Kayak Network: Simon Marwick, Kevin Pasco, Frank Johnston and Stan Mulvany.