A mountain guide and instructor who left Queenstown this week after 23 years also left his mark by raising alpine rescue standards.
Chris Prudden, 68, is returning with his wife, Jan, to Taranaki, where he made a name for about 1320 ascents of Mt Taranaki.
After first summiting the iconic mountain at the age of 12, "I looked around and thought, ‘yeah, this is my gig, this is what I like"’.
He learned the ropes by joining the Taranaki Alpine Club in 1972 and then becoming the first professional guide on the mountain.
He also notched up 160 ski descents, "and skied a lot of lines no one had been there with skis before".
Chris also spent a summer guiding in Europe and summited Matterhorn and Mont Blanc, his highest climb at 4800 metres.
Between times Chris, who’s 1.9m, played national league basketball for Taranaki and also played the sport in Australia and Europe.
When he was 30, "my orthopod said, ‘if you keep playing basketball you will not have any knees left for mountaineering or skiing" — advice he readily heeded.
He also got involved in mountain rescues in Taranaki.
Because guiding was a lifestyle job, he always worked other jobs, like surveying.
"I think my most unique job was working for a diamond smuggler in Holland in the 1980s.
"I had a gun pointed at my head one day, but at the time you’re a young Kiwi in your 20s, you’re bulletproof."
As to why he left the ’Naki for Queenstown in 2002, Chris says tourism wasn’t developed there, and he was frustrated he couldn’t use a helicopter on the mountain for film work.
After moving here he found guiding work with Dave ‘Spoon’ Macleod, Mike Madden and Dave Bolger.
He also guided for two summers at Antarctica.
As for Queenstown’s rescue set-up, "I did feel everything was a bit loose, to be fair".
"There wasn’t a very strong training regime."
He set that to rights when heading up the alpine cliff rescue team for about 10 years.
"The requirement for standards and training is very important now because basically you’re an unpaid employee of the police when you go out there.
"We ended up with a really good team of people, and that’s what it’s all about."
Until retiring from active rescue duty two years ago, Chris was involved in dozens of rescues.
He even made it on to TV 1 News’ ‘Good Sorts’ segment.
Generally, he says with mountain rescues it’s all or nothing, "so they’re either totalled, so they’re not living any more, or they’re actually OK".
"Certainly the ones that stick in your mind are basically when you’re too late, and you’re moving the body and doing the best for friends and family."
If he has a suggestion, it’s that the Otago Southland rescue helicopter service become more involved in mountain rescues simply because they’re on the spot.
Chris says he’s always enjoyed instructing, and would shake his head at untrained people attempting climbs like the Remarkables’ Single Cone.
Too often, he told Mountain Scene last year after a person fell 50m below the summit of Single Cone, people would succumb to ‘summit fever’ — "getting to the summit takes over and they forge on and take risks".
He’s proud neither he nor his clients have ever had to be rescued.
As to why he’s headed back to the ’Naki, Chris says "it’s mainly for my wife, Jan, who’s always supported me with my lifestyle-type job, and she’s got family there and everybody’s getting a bit older".
Having sold their Sunshine Bay pad, they also realised it would cost more to get back into the same market.
"And Queenstown’s too busy for me, man, the traffic’s bloody abysmal.
"You know, 20 years ago we had a lot of space and a lot of freedom, particularly up on the mountain.
"There just weren’t many people around — you could go and have your space in little places like Bob’s Cove, Moke Lake, where you can’t now."
He’s also happy to be quoted saying Queenstown’s "the most mercenary place I’ve ever lived in, it’s kind of dog eats dog everywhere".
Nothing for him beat being on a mountain.
"All of a sudden you just leave all the crap behind and you’re up there — that absolutely is the essence of it."
