By Felicity Wills, 15 August 2025
The mid-tri break was just beginning, there had been a huge dumping of snow in the Tararuas, and there were no boys allowed; what more could one possibly want? After a bit of driving and lots of yapping, we all made our way to Atiwhakatu hut for the night, where we found our ‘no males allowed’ trip slightly foiled as three guys ventured in. No matter though, the vibes were high, the food was good, and I even managed to recruit two exchange students to join me for a sunrise at Jumbo the next morning. At 4.45 am we arose, and a mere 20 mins later, we had started the wonderful slog that is Raingauge Spur. It was the exchange students' first experience like this in the NZ bush and they smashed it, making it for porridge with the very pretty (and very chilly sunrise). 
From here, my newfound friends trotted back down the spur, excited to actually see what they had just walked up, while I decided whether the wind was good enough to cross the tops. There were two youngish guys at Jumbo hut who set off 10 mins before me, wearing some microspikes. I decided that the club's crampons I had grabbed before leaving were going to have to do. The wind sounded strong from the hut but the forecast said it was meant to be under 55km/hr, which I deemed manageable and would confirm this when I got to Jumbo Peak.
I managed to get to the peak without being blown over, and although it was probably on the edge of what I was comfortable with (#scarred from South King during BagAllTheHuts) I pushed on, seeing the two other guys ahead of me. However, about 2 mins later, I passed them so I was back on my own. No worries though, we (I) trotted on.
Ice axe in hand I stomped across the semi-solid snow, feet sinking every now and again. I even got to use my ice axe as more than just a glorified walking stick as I climbed down this steep section of rock backwards, stabbing the pick into the ice, which was pretty skux. About an hour later I made it to the now completely covered and frozen ‘bog city’ (at least that's what my dad calls it) so no mud up to my knees this time unfortunately.
I stopped here for a slight break since I was finally out of the hounding wind and then continued on to climb the last few sections before the Holdsworth trig. I hadn't seen this area this white before. I was also finally settling into the slog and could appreciate the stunning views and the fact I was doing this solo. It’s good to push yourself by yourself to see how capable you actually are.
In the distance I saw a couple groups around the trig, one of which was still there by the time I had climbed up (trying to find the iciest sections so I could use the ice axe and punch my way up). The trig was covered in ice in its crazy wind-blown formation, super cool. I took some pictures for this couple then started the descent, excited to be out of the wind.
I hoped my knee would continue to hold up, I had had to take painkillers by this point in the loop when I had done it a couple of weeks prior (an injury I had acquired a few months before this coming down Mt Mathews rip), but it seemed to be doing okay. Not long after I made it for lunch at Powell hut. There were quite a number of people getting after it this side of the mountain and it was interesting to see the different types of people: crazy trail runners, older couples, younger couples, families, and a few groups of people who looked though they hadn’t touched much grass in their life based on their choice of shoes. After some icy steps, where I regretted taking off my crampons at the hut as I (unsuccessfully) tried not to fall on my ass, I was below the bushline.
I had a lovely trot and found my car group lying in the sun exactly 9 hours after I started (walking time 5 hours according to Strava so I guess I’m a professional faffer). All in all this was a very cool trip, couldn’t have asked for a better time.