After a scramble when I think back to it, I only have fragments. I think it might be because of the effort expended or maybe the adrenaline prevents a smooth cognitive flow. Whatever it is – what follows resembles a poem but is really the way I remember the Mt. Nestor scramble.
Sean and I did this scramble on a perfect scrambling day. The sun was out for some of the time, it snowed a bit, rained a bit and generally just did the mountain weather thing.
Finally, in 2003 we managed to get our luck together! We planned a full 5 night canoe trip to take full advantage of the loop – planning to camp at some gorgeous sites we’d hurried past three years previous in our race against the conditions and the clock.
Hanneke and I always look forward to the days that we get together in the hills. This one was a double bonus because we shipped the kids off on Friday night and attended a Christmas party!
The morning is fresh as I step out of the Beast and start preparing my hiking gear. My heart is beating a rhythm of anticipation as I inhale the sharp mountain air in the empty parking lot.
Buller was a very fun mountain. It isn’t scrambled that often and there is no clear trail to the summit. Part of the scramble was bushwhacking and part of it was clear climbing on shitty scree and slab slopes.