Syme and Rime Again

Trip Date: 1^st August – 3^rd August 2025

Location: Syme Hut, Mt. Taranaki

Participants: Dani Dwight, Colin Arnott, Christopher Hobbs-Massou, Sam Fu-Allen, Waldron Martis, and Satyam Bhatt.

Author: Satyam 

Not as rimy Syme hut!

The Mountain Calls (But First, Traffic!)

As with all legendary adventures, ours began not with a bang, but a group chat. Objectives were (vaguely) aligned, risks were (somewhat) acknowledged, and a healthy side of pre-trip banter set the tone. Then came the great escape from Auckland: one car bolting just in time for peak-hour gridlock, the other fashionably late. The drive south was mercifully uneventful—though at some point, both Waldron and Sam (the trip medics) gently suggested I stay away from recreational substances. Unsure whether to be flattered or concerned.

Enjoying the morning sun at the Camphouse

My wake-up call of 07:00 was met with Colin’s more humane “No getting up before 09:00”. Breakfast and coffee, mate (south American herbal drink) for Sam was enjoyed in nice warm sun. A parking lot catwalk ensued: gear laid out, packs shuffled, and side eyes from the day visitors. A quick tourist-core photo shoot was in order to add a touch of that influencer energy. Then onward to Dawson Falls, a quick visit to the visitor centre, and a group returning from the hut saying, “You’ll like it up there if you like wind” later we were on the track.

Touristy photo, cos why not!

Stairway to Mid-Heaven

Crampons on, axes out

The ascent began. The stairs were as unforgiving as ever, prompting collective existential dread. Hillary seat made up for some rather creative conversations. Visibility teased with cloud games; Taranaki peeked and vanished like a shy god on Tinder. Light drizzle set the tone for damp enthusiasm.

Eventually snow appeared- thin, icy, passive-aggressive. Crampons on. Ice axes out. Spirits rose as we the Central Plateau peaks gave a cameo. Just as the morale was peaking, Panitahi, and eventually Syme Hut appeared, only partially rimed (the disrespect, what about the insta story now, smh!) Colin, ever the trailblazer, broke the seal on the hut and the long drop, promptly reporting a Frozen Poo Advisory. We all decided to focus on the beautiful sunset, and the orange hues of the sky as the sun set.

Sunsetting on the maunga!

Gotta make the call!

Dinner, Delirium & the Department of Philosophical Affairs

Dinner was a United Nations of calories, with good old mi goreng, backcountry cuisine, gourmet mash potato, and some rice. Dehydrated baby shrimp were passed around. Colin added Nutella to the list of food items not suitable for alpine.

Evening liberations included an Argentinian Malbec. Huts were ranked, loved, and despised.  Chris listed some of his favourite huts- though ‘favourite’ here clearly meant the ones with the least insulation, and a general disdain for comfort. The man seems to have a vendetta against comfort.

Nice lil rest spot!

Discussions on how bookable huts are doing more harm than good saw some nice arguments. Conversation somehow found its way to the Cannibalism (as it does), prompting Chris to declare: “Now it’s officially an AUTC trip.”  What followed was a surprisingly passionate debate between Chris and Colin about the finer ethical boundaries of cannibalism, complete with occasional input from the on-site medical panel of Sam, Dani, and Waldron. Lines were drawn. Philosophies were tested. Consensus was… not reached.

With the hopes of a summit fading due to numerous factors, new plans were drafted:

Sunrise, not summit. Stars were attempted. Bright moon, oh wait its total whiteout. Right then, sleep it is.

Mountain lighted by the moon with backdrop of stars!

Shovel Sleds & Slushy Dreams

The hut was woken up to the sound of Thunderstruck (the song) for the sunrise and guess what? – clouds decided to roll in to kill the fun, parting away only after the sun had risen. Back in the hut, a bougie, limited-edition Whittaker’s banana caramel’s pieces acted as a cake for my 21^st  (shout out to Chris, Dani, Sam, Waldron, and Colin). Brekkie was enjoyed beneath the maunga’s gaze.

Bougie Whittaker's cake (limited ed)!

Then the crew went for a wander, with Colin deciding to take some time to pack up while we go for a stroll with him joining us later – not a summit, but a satisfying slog to ~ 2100m. Surface conditions ranged from crunchy to slushy to glissade roulette. I gave up after a couple tries, while Chris brought out a shovel and pioneered shovel sledding (patent pending).

Glissading is fun!!!

K2 next!

Photo of our resident photographer

Layers Off, Spirits Up

The downclimb was a layers-on, layers-off symphony:

• Hoods off.

• Hard shells ditched.

• Thermals yeeted.

• Shorts engaged.

Dani with spotted a bandana tied to a tree, which was promptly retrieved by Chris (legend has it he climbed it). The crew cruised back to the carpark, sweaty, sun-kissed, and well in need for a feed.

Looking at the hut from the slopes

New Plymouth gifted the crew with greasy kebabs, and sent them back to Jafaland, the road to where included enough roadworks to test anyone’s mindfulness practice. ETA inflated like a Therm-a-Rest. Sleep was postponed in favour of story posts.

Somewhere in the algorithmic haze of Instagram reels and recovery snacks, a new dream began to form. The mountain remains, waiting.

A cheeky group photo!