By DAVID HILL
His father loved this mountain. He loved its silences and stories, the way it tested people. Corey felt the same way. Being up here was the greatest feeling in the world. Pity some other people couldn't see it that way.
After 30 minutes' climbing, they paused, took deep breaths, and gazed around.
The trees were lower. Tangled, waist-high shrubs had taken over, crammed together for shelter, tops flattened by the wind. In summer, white and yellow flowers blazed here, flowers that grew nowhere else in the world. Now everything huddled beneath winter snow.
Far below, the towns glinted like little grey models - New Plymouth, Inglewood, Stratford. Off to the left, the Tasman Sea was a sheet of grey steel.
Age group: 6-10 yrs
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