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The Great Unknown: Mountain Journeys in the Southern Alps
A beautifully illustrated chronicle of five decades of tramping and adventuring in New Zealand’s Southern Alps. Geoff Spearpoint is a legend among New Zealand’s tramping and mountaineering community. For over 50 years he has been undertaking many long, adventurous trips in the Southern Alps every year, decade after decade. These trips, usually a mix of both tramping and mountaineering, have made Spearpoint New Zealand’s foremost exponent of what is best described as trans-alpine tramping. In The Great Unknown he collects together personal accounts of his favourite trips into 15 geographical areas, ranging from Kahurangi in the north to Fiordland in the south.
Illustrated with his stunning photography, and with maps from Geographx, this will be a completely unique book that trampers and mountaineers will cherish, for it explores an important element of New Zealand tramping that goes to the heart of how we define our relationship with our backcountry.
Illustrated with his stunning photography, and with maps from Geographx, this will be a completely unique book that trampers and mountaineers will cherish, for it explores an important element of New Zealand tramping that goes to the heart of how we define our relationship with our backcountry.
248 pages, Hardcover
Published October 1, 2019
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August 9, 2022
His backcountry reputation precedes him and I’m told by some who know him well that Geoff Spearpoint’s book has been a long time in the making and much anticipated by many. I feel privileged to review The Great Unknown.
The first impression suggests a publication that might well do justice to the author’s reputation. It’s of coffee table proportions with a very sturdy cover. It comes prepared for inclement reading conditions, wrapped in a stiff cover jacket. The spectacular cover image of a tiny tramper in the upper Francis Glacier provides ample incentive to open the book.
For The Great Unknown, Spearpoint has chosen to focus solely on the Southern Alps. Given the huge amount of time he’s spent in the hills I think he had to pick a subset of New Zealand’s whole, otherwise his book might have collapsed the average coffee table. And even restricting himself to the Southern Alps I think he still had to exercise great restraint in choosing the 55 trips he did, breaking them into 14 alpine regions, starting with Kahurangi in the north and finishing with Fiordland and the Darrans in the deep south.
Each of the 14 regions is fronted by informative 3D maps prepared by Roger Smith at Geographx. These clearly illustrate where Spearpoint’s down-to-earth yet often eloquent words and high quality images will take you, leaving you salivating with anticipation.
From the get go he had me hooked, opening with the Dragon’s Teeth – a trip I still dearly wish to undertake myself. As I read, two regrets about The Great Unknown became increasingly apparent to me. First, there is simply not enough space to accommodate the author’s wealth of experience and backcountry knowledge. Of necessity each trip is only covered briefly. I will quickly add though, that ‘brief’ does not mean ‘superficial’. Within Spearpoint’s short trip accounts are countless insightful observations, route tips, historical references and colourful quips that also reveal something of the man’s personality. Just as well, because in the entire book there isn’t a single photograph of him. Given I’ve been told that Spearpoint is not a seeker of the lime light, this should come as no surprise I suppose.
My second regret is that most of the trips described I will never undertake myself. I repeatedly felt waves of admiration and envy from the beginning until the end of the book. My rough tally revealed that the 55 trips described cover over 420 days in the hills in total. 11 trips were four days or less, 18 were five to seven days, 22 were eight to 13 days and four were 16 to 20. All of them involved lots of off track travel. That’s a whole lot of adventure. And hardship.
The images. Almost all were taken by Spearpoint himself. He was obviously a very keen photographer from early on in his tramping and climbing career, because he was known to lug a medium format camera and tripod to places as remote as the Bracken Snowfield. Well, to coin an old ad phrase ‘That man deserves a DB!’ The images span 1968 to 2017 and film to digital. The publisher has done a fine job in reproducing the images to a very consistently high standard throughout. Whether you’re looking at a shot from the early seventies or from 2017 it feels current and fresh. And Spearpoint’s photographer’s eye will have you oooing and ahhing constantly. Images, maps and text are presented without fuss in plenty of white space. It’s a classy reading experience.
Perhaps from physical and content perspectives there isn’t too much more to say. By now you should have learned that The Great Unknown is a must have on any keen tramper’s book shelf. But I’d like to close this review with a few selected quotes from the book that give a glimpse of Spearpoint’s authenticity, wisdom, toughness, modesty, wit, charm and deep love of the natural world. Because it’s these qualities that really make The Great Unknown shine.
‘At dawn, and still in the shade, we watched the bright sun turn [Mount] Evans in to a red and gold chameleon, feeling blessed just to witness it. Who could deny a spiritual connection to the mountains on a day like this?’
‘Somewhere about half way, I put in a belay anchor, then backed it up with a jam nut. I yanked to test the nut. It failed, and hit me in the mouth, snapping half of a front tooth off.’
‘With bare feet on the moss, parakeets calling in the scrub, the subtle aroma of celery pine glades, a fire and the prospect of a great trip, I slept well.’
‘As we got lower, under the clouds and down in wet vegetation, we started to laugh. Release. We all knew we’d gotten out of it by the skin of our teeth.’
‘Winter truly transforms the mountains and the trips into them. Daylight hours shrivel in half, and the sun slinks down among the hills, leaving dampness to invade the land. The landscape is one of greasy rocks, lush mosses, wet logs, frost crystals and snow.’
‘I identify with Shipton’s simple, lightweight, flexible approach to mountains: he rejected contemporary expedition dogma, and claimed travel is as simple or as complex as you choose, and the complexity comes from confusion between necessity and luxury.’
‘… we slept out under a boulder at the mercy of nocturnal kea. Just about asleep, then ‘rustle rustle rustle’ as they began pulling at the sleeping bag with their beaks. By three in the morning their game had become a bit tiresome. Kea have a persistence gene that sometimes jams on ‘open’.’
‘We staggered up the West Matukituki with 30-kilogram packs, carrying 20 days’ food and climbing gear. Many others have done the same, I know, but it still hurt. I had to prop the pack on logs to get it on my back, and that can’t be good for you.’
‘This was our eleventh day of the trip and after eight fine days, we were all getting sunburnt. Here, I suffered the ignominy of having my bushshirt and socks fly blown, one of the disadvantages of damp wool.’
The combination of the author’s straightforward, to the point writing and beautiful photographs, so tastefully presented by Potton and Burton, are sure to enthral and inspire anyone who has an affinity with exploration, adventure and/or New Zealand’s Southern Alps.
The first impression suggests a publication that might well do justice to the author’s reputation. It’s of coffee table proportions with a very sturdy cover. It comes prepared for inclement reading conditions, wrapped in a stiff cover jacket. The spectacular cover image of a tiny tramper in the upper Francis Glacier provides ample incentive to open the book.
For The Great Unknown, Spearpoint has chosen to focus solely on the Southern Alps. Given the huge amount of time he’s spent in the hills I think he had to pick a subset of New Zealand’s whole, otherwise his book might have collapsed the average coffee table. And even restricting himself to the Southern Alps I think he still had to exercise great restraint in choosing the 55 trips he did, breaking them into 14 alpine regions, starting with Kahurangi in the north and finishing with Fiordland and the Darrans in the deep south.
Each of the 14 regions is fronted by informative 3D maps prepared by Roger Smith at Geographx. These clearly illustrate where Spearpoint’s down-to-earth yet often eloquent words and high quality images will take you, leaving you salivating with anticipation.
From the get go he had me hooked, opening with the Dragon’s Teeth – a trip I still dearly wish to undertake myself. As I read, two regrets about The Great Unknown became increasingly apparent to me. First, there is simply not enough space to accommodate the author’s wealth of experience and backcountry knowledge. Of necessity each trip is only covered briefly. I will quickly add though, that ‘brief’ does not mean ‘superficial’. Within Spearpoint’s short trip accounts are countless insightful observations, route tips, historical references and colourful quips that also reveal something of the man’s personality. Just as well, because in the entire book there isn’t a single photograph of him. Given I’ve been told that Spearpoint is not a seeker of the lime light, this should come as no surprise I suppose.
My second regret is that most of the trips described I will never undertake myself. I repeatedly felt waves of admiration and envy from the beginning until the end of the book. My rough tally revealed that the 55 trips described cover over 420 days in the hills in total. 11 trips were four days or less, 18 were five to seven days, 22 were eight to 13 days and four were 16 to 20. All of them involved lots of off track travel. That’s a whole lot of adventure. And hardship.
The images. Almost all were taken by Spearpoint himself. He was obviously a very keen photographer from early on in his tramping and climbing career, because he was known to lug a medium format camera and tripod to places as remote as the Bracken Snowfield. Well, to coin an old ad phrase ‘That man deserves a DB!’ The images span 1968 to 2017 and film to digital. The publisher has done a fine job in reproducing the images to a very consistently high standard throughout. Whether you’re looking at a shot from the early seventies or from 2017 it feels current and fresh. And Spearpoint’s photographer’s eye will have you oooing and ahhing constantly. Images, maps and text are presented without fuss in plenty of white space. It’s a classy reading experience.
Perhaps from physical and content perspectives there isn’t too much more to say. By now you should have learned that The Great Unknown is a must have on any keen tramper’s book shelf. But I’d like to close this review with a few selected quotes from the book that give a glimpse of Spearpoint’s authenticity, wisdom, toughness, modesty, wit, charm and deep love of the natural world. Because it’s these qualities that really make The Great Unknown shine.
‘At dawn, and still in the shade, we watched the bright sun turn [Mount] Evans in to a red and gold chameleon, feeling blessed just to witness it. Who could deny a spiritual connection to the mountains on a day like this?’
‘Somewhere about half way, I put in a belay anchor, then backed it up with a jam nut. I yanked to test the nut. It failed, and hit me in the mouth, snapping half of a front tooth off.’
‘With bare feet on the moss, parakeets calling in the scrub, the subtle aroma of celery pine glades, a fire and the prospect of a great trip, I slept well.’
‘As we got lower, under the clouds and down in wet vegetation, we started to laugh. Release. We all knew we’d gotten out of it by the skin of our teeth.’
‘Winter truly transforms the mountains and the trips into them. Daylight hours shrivel in half, and the sun slinks down among the hills, leaving dampness to invade the land. The landscape is one of greasy rocks, lush mosses, wet logs, frost crystals and snow.’
‘I identify with Shipton’s simple, lightweight, flexible approach to mountains: he rejected contemporary expedition dogma, and claimed travel is as simple or as complex as you choose, and the complexity comes from confusion between necessity and luxury.’
‘… we slept out under a boulder at the mercy of nocturnal kea. Just about asleep, then ‘rustle rustle rustle’ as they began pulling at the sleeping bag with their beaks. By three in the morning their game had become a bit tiresome. Kea have a persistence gene that sometimes jams on ‘open’.’
‘We staggered up the West Matukituki with 30-kilogram packs, carrying 20 days’ food and climbing gear. Many others have done the same, I know, but it still hurt. I had to prop the pack on logs to get it on my back, and that can’t be good for you.’
‘This was our eleventh day of the trip and after eight fine days, we were all getting sunburnt. Here, I suffered the ignominy of having my bushshirt and socks fly blown, one of the disadvantages of damp wool.’
The combination of the author’s straightforward, to the point writing and beautiful photographs, so tastefully presented by Potton and Burton, are sure to enthral and inspire anyone who has an affinity with exploration, adventure and/or New Zealand’s Southern Alps.
October 29, 2022
A beautiful book. Each chapter describes a handful of trails and journeys taken in a particular section of NZ's Southern Alps. Each trip has interesting background info or anecdotes, as well as an outline log of the tramping adventure taken. Packed with loads of stunning and magnificent photos of the fauna and scenery. Inspiring!
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews