从Raglan遥望西南8公里以外的Mt Karioi山，其轮廓颇似“睡美人”。千万年来，栖息在Tasman海边，756米高的Mt Karioi像哨兵一样一直守护着Raglan海湾。

        同其它几座临近的Mt Pirongia，MtKakepuku，Mt Te Kawa一样，Mt Karioi也是一座沉寂的死火山，这几座山从Raglan的海岸线延伸到内陆的Te Awamutu形成了一条直线山群。约240万年前，玄武岩和安山岩的熔浆从250公里以下地球深层的俯冲带喷发而出形成Mt Karioi山；几百万年的风吹雨打又塑成了这睡美人的形状。

登高放眼望

   山那边，太阳在天空中升起；山这边，我们沿步道线攀登。Tasman海好一片平静：没有汹涌的波涛，只有欢快的涟漪；白色飘带般的海潮刷洗着远处的海岸线，若即若离；海湾中的水城小镇在即来即去的云雾中，若隐若现；高山让密林根深叶茂，密林为高山遮风挡雨，相互依恋着千万年。

密林走泥潭：

   单程5公里的步道，约有六成是火山黑泥夹树根，加上铁链铁梯辅助着攀岩似的上下，堪比汤山穿越还难。不知这泥潭是成年累月的积成，还是一两场大雨就可和成？林子里阳光都无法穿透，有的地段比阴天还阴，比黄昏还昏，纵使几天的烈日炎炎恐怕都无法拧干这泥中的水。泥潭往返，颇有些枯燥乏味；攀上滑下，很有些无可奈何；不过有时，抬头可望蓝天和云雾的变换，平视可看翠绿和野花的交错，蹲身可寻那可爱的蓝精灵-绝对稀有的蓝蘑菇；满身泥水又如何，遍体疲乏也有值。

回看夕阳美：

   走回到密林和草场的交接处，又可居高临下地回望到一望无际依旧平静的Tasman海。太阳快完成在这片天地间的光明运作，渐渐地西去；我们快完成在这块山林里的苦行徒步，慢慢地下山。夕阳在接近远处的天穷海尽时，放射出金色的光芒，让晚霞一片金烂漫，让海天一色金灿灿，让我们一身金胄甲。

        最美不过夕阳金，惬意又温馨。看到这美丽的夕阳和晚霞，品着这海天一色的醇酒，享受着这大自然的深情厚爱，是否还会继续我们那未了的徒步情？

        4月5日的英文先驱报，刊登了一位登山者的文章，讲述她参加Mt Karioi的24公里8小时时限的登山跑步活动。全文如下：

The Sleeping Lady rouses herself for a challenge that just about rivals that of the Himalayas, as Vicki Virtue discover.

By Vicki Virtue

Mt Karioi is the magnificent towering backdrop to Raglan, often referred to as The Sleeping Lady (Wahine Moe) due to its slumbering profile. Given my own fondness for a lie-in, I have always rather liked the mountain and often admired it while out surfing. So when I read about the Karioi Trail Run I decided it was time to get out of the water and head for the hills.

I'm not a runner but I am a keen hiker and having just returned from Everest Base Camp in Nepal, 24km Mt Karioi within the eight-hour time limit seemed like a cinch - the altitude was only 756m, not 5545m.

So, after checking with the organisers, I entered as a walker and arrived at the start line with a picnic in my backpack ready to enjoy the day and the stunning views from the top.

I should perhaps have realised the significance of the undertaking as I chatted to a former Olympic rower at the start line. But I was fit, the sun was shining and with encouragement from organiser Francois Mazet to "enjoy the day", I set off in high spirits.

Overhearing talk of ladders and chains as we crossed the farmland at the beginning, I kept up a brisk pace until I could be sure of what lay ahead.

As it turned out it was a fellow competitor. I emerged from the bush line and found her, frozen with fear and suffering from vertigo midway up a ladder en route to the summit.

Like many of us, she had underestimated the steepness of the trail.

As Chris Morrissy wrote after winning the inaugural race in 2013: "Another five degrees steeper and it would have been worthy of abseiling equipment".

But, vertigo or not, there was no hanging about to enjoy the views on the first summit (yes there are two!). It was straight down the vertiginous slopes on the other side; one minute hanging from a tree like a chimpanzee, the next teetering on the edge of a rocky face like a mountain goat and finally sliding down a muddy chute on a length of chain like a seasoned mountaineer.

At about this point, I realised making the eight-hour time limit wasn't going to be quite as easy a task as I had thought. As I staggered past two runners, prostrate on the ground, I was grateful for the extra haemoglobin in my blood after the high altitude of the Himalayas.

Nonetheless, it was a huge relief to reach the flat gravel on Whaanga Rd, from where I began the push towards the summit for the second time. As I negotiated the steep ascent over loose rocks, slippery tree roots and low-hanging branches, I started to think carrying on past Base Camp to the summit of Everest might have been easier.

But finally, I reached the top for the second time and this time I did stop to enjoy the fabulous views of the West Coast right out to Mt Taranaki and down to Gannet Rock, so named by Captain Cook, although Maori legend has it that this is where Karioi cast her husband into the sea when he flirted with her sister, Pirongia.

I also took the time to enjoy my picnic - much to the astonishment of the formerly prostrate runners who limped past, eyeing my marmite and cheese sandwiches.

From there, it was all downhill to the finish line, on an easy, well-maintained Department of Conservation track. As I caught up with the last few straggling runners they made a dash for it, determined not to be overtaken by a picnicking hiker.

Happily we all crossed the line within a hair's breadth of the eight hours. And what an achievement - 1850m of elevation on steep and technically difficult terrain.

As one of the frontrunners so succinctly put it: "That was super-hard, but man it was fun!"