More obvious to us in our visits to the backcountry, or the edges of our cities, are the hillsides that slip and the big trees that fall over. The huts that are built, cherished, and removed. The tracks that are blazed, trodden, then overgrown.The view that once could be had of a gorge from the corner of a windy road, that is now obscured by regenerating bush.
While great connections can be made with a landscape, or spot, in a moment in time revisiting an area and watching the change is always interesting. One of the great challenges of the Leave No Trace ethic is understanding what change is acceptable to us that are concerned about the human effect on the environment.
One of my favourite spots in New Zealand is the vast limestone massif of Mt Owen in the southern region of Kahurangi National Park. Mt Owen is the highest of several gnarly protuberances on a high plateau and is a worthy goal for a summit and view. In recent years it has also gained prominence as the exit point of the Mines of Moria, the eastern edge of the Misty Mountains, one of the most recognisable landscapes in the film version of the Lord of the Rings
I first climbed Mt Owen in 1999. I remember carting a 30kg pack up the ridge from Courthouse Flat to the old Granity Pass Hut (the new one is far superior). From here we daytripped to the summit. The route finding was challenging, sporadic cairns confused us, and the impressive rock crevasses blocked our path regularly. At times we were left to stumble or scramble up the worn rock flutings.
It felt like an exploration, it was a wierdly rugged and undisturbed landscape, it was foreign to us. To reach the summit felt an achievement.
This last summer I returned, with my wife. She hadn't been there before, and ten years of my stories had done much to deepen the anticipation of this wonderful place. We climbed up by a circuitous route, climbing Cullifords Hill enroute to the high plateau. From the summit of this Mt Owen and its companions appeared in their majesty.
We ventured forth over the plateau to intersect the route beteen the new Granity Pass hut and the summit. I remember this as a long grassy spur. We were surprised when we got there to find a clear foot trail up the spur, and past the little tarns that sit on a high saddle before the rock maze. Entering the rock maze the trail continued, a 1000 little feet have battered out a path that Nepalese porters would be proud of, in and out of the rock crevasses, amidst the flowery grasslands...
And even up the final crumbly scree to the summit itself. The track to Mt Owen is complete (well at least under fine, summer conditions).
I wasn't quite sure what to think of this. Isn't it great that so many people have shared the amazing wonders of Mt Owen? Or is a one of a kind mountain tarnished by this track? Has focusing people on one route saved the surrounding environment, or wrecked the overall experience and integrity of the place? Will some people still experience the feeling of exploration and adventure that I recieved whaen I first visited this place, or will their minds remain rooted in their physical task of following a track?
I'm honestly unsure, but it strikes me that if I can imagine myself as Aragorn, overlooking the forests of Lothlorien and mourning Gandalf, then maybe the possibilities for appreciating this place remain open! Maybe the sacrifice of the path is worth it for the volume of people that become more closely connected to nature through experience. But if so what can we learn about the Leave No Trace ethic and how we interrelate with wider concepts of wilderness, kaitiakitanga, land use and conservation, and where do our future challenges lie?
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