Unwin Hut is where this trip began. Having met Mike and Donna at Mount Cook National Park Headquarters, we walked 3km to Unwin. I'm sure the location of the hut is a plan to keep climbers out of the village. Donna and I planned to go to Barron Saddle at the head of the Mueller Glacier while Mike attended the MSC course with Mike Sheridan.
The climb up to Mueller Hut is a grunt; 3,000 feet straight up, no pissing about. The hut is located in a great spot; views up the Hooker and Mueller Valleys, a great panorama of Mount Cook and ice avalanches bombing off Mt Sefton. We opt for the high route (via Sladden Saddle) to Barron Saddle. We left at 8.00am, shouldn't take more than 3 - 4 hours we thought. We were soon past Kitcher and onto the lower reaches of the Annette Plateau. We had gone only one and a half hours and Barron Saddle looked close. We looked at the route guide photo and thought we were close to Darby. Well the confusion soon set in. The Annette Ice Plateau was larger than first thought, we were soon stuffed and it was not until we were under Sladden Saddle that we worked out what the confusion was. To all future parties in the area, Fig. 1 of the Mount Cook Guide Book differs from the maps. Mount Massey in Fig. 1 is the point 8,000+ which is NW of Sladden Saddle, not the point next to Sealy as shown on the maps. Once on Sladden Saddle, its easy going. The shelf below Mount Barby is an easy route. The high route is excellent on a fine day but it took nine and a half hours. Don't expect the route to be a ride. You need to be fit. Barron Saddle Hut is barrel-shapped with the words 'open other end' on one side. A well designed hut with communal bunks and a dining area separate from the cooking area. This hut was erected as a replacement for Three Johns Hut which blew away over bluffs and into the Dobson Valley on 30th January 1977, killing four people outright. The remains of the hut can still be seen.
Next day, there was a NW gale and low mist so a pit day was in order. The following day, it was snowing with the low mist still present. It is moments like these when you don't believe the weather forecast given by Mount Cook Headquarters to all huts. Quote 'Freezing level 3,500m'. Well at Barron Saddle, it's 2,000m and the water tank had frozen over. It cleared up in the afternoon and we took a walk on the upper Mueller Glacier. A clear night resulted in a good freeze and so we decided to climb Scissors. Unfortunately for us, nobody told the heat of the sun to take a holiday and the snow soon became soft and unstable. I went alone as Donna was not confident on the steep slopes. A quick view of the Landsborough, back to Donna and the hut. We were joined that night by 2 AGL guides and 11 Pupils on an AIC.
Next day we head out via the Mueller Glacier, a very fast route except for an hour of moraine grovelling and then up to Mueller Hut. Exit the Mueller under Mount Kitcher. We drop down to Mount Cook Village quickly and stayed the night at the camping ground. I farewell Donna who headed back to Timaru. I headed to Unwin to wait for Mike to return from the MSC course. I soon receive the news that he had copped the flu during the week, passed it onto a few bods and at least one person wasn't sorry for him as a result. He wasn't coming back down as he had got some food and would wait for me at Beetham Hut.
I headed up next day. We both headed across to De La Beche Hut where
we would go over the techniques Mike learned on the Course. For two days
we covered ice climbing techniques on the De La Beche ice cliffs and rock
climbing and belaying on the bluffs and boulders near the hut. A worthwhile
two days. On the third day we arose at 3.00am to climb the Minarets. After
an hour, Mike turned back in the face of deteriorating weather. 1 continued
on with two other guys but turned back when the weather really set in.
I was feeling good at the time and a bit pissed having to turn back. We
headed for home after this. My opinion of the Mount Cook region? Well go
there. Believe me, its worth it.
Barron Saddle trip: Donna Robertson, Murray Corles (me)
De La Beche trip: Mike Robertson, Murray Corles (me again)
DAY 1
Well the plans were all laid. We were to depart from my place at 3.00am. Shit! I thought only possums roamed at that hour. Anyway, me being my usual efficient self decide I can leave packing my gear until 2.00am, while I grab some kip.
I woke up promptly at 2.00am (thanks to the alarm clock) and I think to myself Dave you've got plenty of time, so I promptly go back to sleep. Guess what? I woke promptly at 3.30am with Steve waiting for me in his car at the shops (the shops were the rendezvous point for me). I then proceeded to run barefoot with what I was sleeping in and hoon around to the shops praying that Steve is still there. He is.
I direct Steve to my address where I grab everything in sight and throw it in the car! as fast as I can. This painful process only takes me a mere 15 minutes. Fast aay?
Finally, we're away to refuel at J'ville, only to find more delays as the petrol attendant tells us we are going to have to wait, since he's changing tanks over or some similar type shit. Finally, finally, away to Steve's abode to pick up a tin opener since yours truly forgot his (embarrassing since most of my food is in tins).
Finally that Terrible Duo are on the road for the Oroua Basin in the Ruahines. After getting to the carpark we sort and pack our gears. While we eat breakfast and sort our shit out 4 or 5 parties arrive and are gone. At last AWAY ... we hoon down the track to Heritage Lodge. Unfortunately the Duo (renowned for the speed or lack of) pass the signpost which says Tunipo (which would have lead us straight to Heritage within 20 seconds) and head instead for the Oroua River. Here the fun begins. We don't know where the [ U F K C ] (rearrange letter set for your own delightful expletive) we are, and eventually decide to split up and explore the river in both directions. We come to the conclusion that Heritage was missed so we back track without packs until we locate it. Now there's only one problem. The Duo feeling super fit decide instead of taking the easy way (track) to Irongate Hut we'll rough it and tackle the river instead (of course our packs being 10 minutes down the track has nothing to do with our decision to rough it, since what's a 10 minute each way trip back to Heritage in comparison to an easy trek to Irongate.
Grunting up river is painful, what with the intermittent rain especially
since that rain is getting more and more mittent. rain. Being the man that
I am I decide to show Steve how a bath should be taken. This was done by
simulating my foot slipping and I dutifully took a dip. Warm too!! ( ...
not really). During our busting up river Steve was beginning to winge and
begged me to call him what he was. Alright, I will then, who am I to deny
what he really is ya ... WIMP. At long last Irongate is reached. Triangle
Hut we will give a miss since we don't want to get too fit now aay
FOOTNOTE: While travelling by car up to the Ruahines I've been boasting
to Steve about how superfit I am (modestly of course), and Steve tells
me his sob story about how unfit he is. Then as soon as our tramp begins
well waddaya know. I'm the one who busting my ringpiece trying to keep
up with him. Which just goes to show that even the best of us are infallible
(but only the once!).
DAY 2
The second day was, I found later, to be a real bitch of a day. I woke promptly at around 6.30am with Steve still slumbering. This was mainly due to the fact that he only got one hour of sleep the day before, due to a party. His own fault not mine. Me being the masochist that I am wake up the slumbering WIMP and tell him that I want to make an early start up to Ngamoko Range to Tunupo and down to Heritage Lodge. I finish off the last of my biscuits for breakfast and also cook up something from a couple of dog food tins. Bloody nice too when it's heated up! Finally after Steve has eventually returned to life breakfast we are away up to the tops; leaving about 8.10am. It was kinda dumb but we took the track back down to Heritage. We realised the error of our ways quickly since this was not leading us up to the tops. We made this elementary mistake because we couldn't find the track. I.E. it was hidden somewhere. To find the track we went about 100m up the river and then bush bashed our way up the spur about 50m. And wouldn't you know, we even found the track to lead up to the range. And so the Terrible Duo began their start on their EPIC JOURNEY. The track that lead up to Ngamoko Range was quite easy and before we knew it we had a view of the Range. However, the hard part was still to come since there are treacherous little holes, Spaniard, etcetera, etcetera which yours truly ran foul of.
Once on the Range it wasn't too bad with good views north to the hills and also out Hawkes Bay way. Looking back south towards Wellington, we could make out the end of the Tararuas and little hick towns around Palmy. About half way along the Range I mentioned to Steve that we should be able to make it to what looked like Tunupo in about half an hour. Turned out to be roughly an hour and a half. So much for my ace predictions.
The weather on the Range was a bit poxy, with the clag virtually trying to be like a bloody Jack-in-the-box all along the Range. When we finally reached Tunupo the Duo stopped for lunch just about the time that the clag lifted and let the sun shine.
After we were fully repleted (or at least I was, since Steve was saving his appetite for when we headed back home) we made the easy journey down the track towards Heritage.The Journey back down was not without its pitfalls as I can notably testify to. There were more little holes all over the show not to mention my favourite weed Spaniard. I just love getting the living shit ripped off my hands and legs. These nasties cleared as we reached the trees but more pitfalls awaited the intrepid DUO.
I swear that the trees roots were wageing their own private vendetta
against me. I couldn't walk for long without soon trying a swan dive courtesy
of the tree roots. It was taking a while for the lads to reach the track
because just when you thought you were at the bottom there were more bottoms
to head for. Upon reaching the beginning of the Tunupo Creek Confluence
the Duo headed for a quick rest at Heritage before heading for HOME SWEET
HOME.
| Party consisted of the following men:
LEADER DAVE PAITI WIMPER STEVE WALKER |
Plus excess baggage as outlined below:
WIMPEE STEVE WALKER WIMPIE STEVE WALKER WIMPIE STEVE WALKER |
Imagine mountains where you can rely on good weather. The Pyrenees is the only place I know of so far. My encounter with this range of peaks was twofold, first east of Andarra, and second in the centre of the range.
I've always wanted to see the Pyrenees because they've never been terribly well publicised and have always seemed a bit savage. Unfortunately I was wrong - lots of people know about them, but they're still impressive.
From a place called Figeres, north of Barcelona, I thumbed my way to a place called Ribes de Fresa (it's possible to get train direct from Barcelona). I then took the rack and pinion train up a really spectacular gorge to a hotel and station called Nuria, at 2,000 metres, surrounded by 3,000 meter peaks (with no snow and not very steep - more like rolling hills). I camped two nights there - speaking in Catalonian (a dialect of Spanish) with a very persistent guy there and I could only vaguely understand him because of my knowledge of french, which has been invaluable in my travels. While there I walked up Puigmale the highest peak (knob) in the area - it was hard to imagine I was nearly at 10,000 feet. Then I did a thoroughly romantic thing and crossed the frontier from Spain to France, on foot via a pass called the Col des Firestrelles. As the relations back in Spain and France are not bad there's no hassle with not crossing through customs - although it's probably not wise to make too much of a fuss of it if you're crossing the border the opposite way, as the Spanish are a bit more careful. But these things change all the time.
My next encounter with the Pyrenees was a few days later after I'd hitched to Lourdes and discovered the Parc Nationale des Pyrenees was nearby. I couldn't resist so I hitched there, although it's possible to get a bus as far as Cauterets. From there it's best to hitch the last 7km to the end of the road because it climbs 1,000 feet up a steep sided, forested valley, really impressive stuff. The road end is the Pont d' Espagne.
A two hour walk up a lovely open valley brought me to the Refuge des Mallots. A refuge is like a hut, but one must pay and can buy meals there as well. However it is possible to camp in the area around a refuge, which is what I did.
I climbed the peak of Grant Fache, and it seemed more like real mountains because it was nearly 10,000 feet, steep cliffs and snow in the gullies. A bit different though because on the way I saw my first snake - a viper - I was a bit worried because these things are lethal within 6 - 12 hours. However they always run (slither) away. Then I walked from that refuge to another called Refuge des Oullettes - via two easy passes col dtArratille and Col des Mulets - amidst glorious scenery. There I saw my first non New Zealand glacier and I felt I was in the real mountains as I know them.
I spent two days there in the sun. One day I made an attempt at the 10,500 feet peak Vignemale - but because I was on my own and without a rope I couldn't attempt it. So I just had to jealously watch the other people on the rock, climbing it. After a wonderful time in the French/Spanish mountains I hitched to the Mediterranian to lie on the beach for two days before continuing my travels.
Arriving back at Blenheim from our week in the Kaikouras, Dennis and I scrounged a shower then hopped a Newmans Bus for Christchurch. At Christchurch we met up with Dave, spent two days washing clothes and buying food and then for a change, we made for the mountains. This time Arthurs Pass.
DAY 1
We tumbled off the bus at Klondyke Corner and stood warily eying our packs. They showed no inclination toward self motivation so we gritted our teeth, hoisted them to our backs and headed up the Waimakariri for Carrington hut. The weather deteriorated rapidly, rain to hail, hail to sleet and finally as we reached Carrington, snow. It continued to snow lightly all night.
DAY 2
A few shafts of light heralded the morning but it wasn't long before the sun retreated to skulk behind a heavy overcast. We were only making for Barker Hut and so stayed in pit till 10, had a leisurely breakfast and packed slowly not leaving till twelve. At 1.30, as punishment for our sloth, it started snowing and the next three and a half hours were spent plodding, head down, knee deep in soft powder.
DAY 3
Whistling winds, blinding spindrift, dismal overcast, a cold white world. The day was spent eating, sleeping, reading, brewing.
DAY 4
The morning dawned clear and crisp but the alarm didn't go off so we lost the chance of an early start. Nevertheless we headed off at 7 hoping to make the summit of Murchison by lunch. The snow which had built up over the last two days had not yet compacted and aside from some windswept ridgelines the day was spent plugging and wading. The usual route to Murchison is up the left of the White Glacier but we decided to keep to the ridge between White Col and Kahutea Col to avoid the worst of the snow drifts. This ridge provides an easy traverse but is broken by a number of rock outcrops which have to be sidled, preferably on the west as the east falls away steeply. The few we tried to traverse or sidle on the east proved more trouble than they were worth. Murchison rises 200 feet (60 metres for you kids) in a broad pyramid from Kahutea Col and although relatively steep, it is, and was easily climbed. Being the highest peak in Arthurs Pass and for many miles around the views were exceptional; to the south-west the unmistakable summit of Cook, west the coast, from the north to north-east the Paparoas, Victoria range, Spensers and the Kaikouras and south the Arrowsmiths. Wrap around grandeur, which our cameras proved later to be incapable of recreating.
We huddled near the summit for lunch - it may have been fine but it certainly wasn't warm, and then with our appetites sated and nothing left to photograph we headed down.
The trip back was an uneventful plod only relieved by the occasional rather wet bumslide. Dennis tried to traverse the ridge to Wakeman but with a morning of sun the snow was a wet porridge and Wakeman was duly flagged.
DAY 5
This time the alarm performed its cheery sonata on cue with an accompaniment of muffled oaths and groans. By 6 Dennis and I were away, helped along by a bitingly cold wind. Today Mt Harper was our goal and we hoped to find a route up the west face. Dave, more interested in views than the joys of clinging to rotten rock and slick ice went his own way. The beginning of the climb, a large couloir, was only 15 minutes from the hut (hence the relatively late start). The snow in the couloir was soft and deep so we headed left up an ice slope onto a broad ridge. The belays were good and we were soon at the large snowfield halfway up the mountain which separates the two ranks of butresses of the face.
It was at the top of this snowfield that our problems began as the prominent couloir forked (we couldn't see this from the hut) and given a choice of more than one we naturally took the wrong branch, finding ourselves in a steep narrow snow couloir punctuated by large patches of rotten ice and rock outcrops. Eventually after several hours pissing around with belays, thawing fingers, retracing steps and mouthing expletives at frozen knots and jammed carabiners we made our way out the top and onto a good snow slope which led to the summit ridge. The climb had taken five hours. When we reached the top cloud was scudding around the summit restricting views to brief glimpses however on the descent we were treated to some beautiful views. We returned via the normal ascent route - down broad snow slopes to White Col - and this took about an hour.
DAY 6
We packed, cleaned the hut and headed down to Klondyke Corner for the
3.15 bus. The trip out was spent knocking hours of the trip in; Barker
to Carrington, 5 hours in and 2.5 out, Carrington to Klondyke, 4.5 in and
3.5 out. On reaching the road Dave stuck out his thumb and quickly got
a ride. Twenty minutes later the bus picked me and Dennis up. Christchurch
that night, Wellington on the morrow. I swear, I could smell the
fish n'chips before we'd even crossed Poters Pass.
This trip certainly didn't start out like most other Tararua trips, as here I was in full storm gear and I hadn't even left Titahi Bay yet. Cast your mind back to the MAY VACATION and the day Wellington (and suburbs) had its big annual storm i.e. roofs blowing away, flooding etc, etc. Well this was the day that we left to attempt a 'Mid-winter Greater Northern'. Don't laugh, the theory was that it couldn't get worse.
Anyway by 3.30pm (Wednesday) we were leaving Porirua in the direction of Levin's Ohau roadend. Transport kindly being provided by lan McGlinchy and Mike Sheridan (alias Alan Prost, I think he was trying to reach the wind's speed?). After the usual takeaways at Levin we were dropped off without further delay at the farm house over the pipe bridge. To our surprise the weather was calm and it had stopped raining, so it was off with all the storm gear before the short trip one hour into Ohau ('dig my graffiti decor') shelter. Next morning we awoke to a calm but overcast day. After breakfast and a discussion on the merit of the river route and Gable End tracks, we headed off. Gable End being chosen due to past experiences of Paul and Wayne. Every now and again we had some light hail or snow, though the air temperature was remarkably moderate. Four hours later we were at Te Matawai Hut for lunch finding the Gable End track a nice grade and not monotonous as made out by many people. By now the weather had clagged in a bit even so we never had any intentions of leading off up Mt Pukematawai today.
The rest of the day was spent eating and trying to keep warm. Hitting pit after a game of euchre and an excellent stew. One thing we weren't short of was cooking equipment as we had four primuses (three white spirit, one gas), four billies (assorted sizes) and over three litres of white spirit between the five of us.
We arose next morning to a low cloud cold morning. However by the time we had finished breakfast, it had fined up, so as to give us an excellent sunrise over a snow covered Mt Dundas. Halfway up the spur leading to Mt Pukematawai (4,700 feet) the weather changed again, as a southerly had come up and the cloud banks were looking ominous. By now we were in one and a half to two feet of snow left during the storm two days earlier. Half an hour late we were at the top of the afore mentioned peak, where a few of the party donned storm gear,' i.e. balaclava, mittens, overtrousers etc, hardier types got by with only needing a parka.
The view was great if your into white, i.e. white snow at your feet, white thick cloud every other direction. After a brief stop and a compass check it was down the very sharp ridge onto the saddle leading to Mt Arete (5,000 feet). The snow now had a nearly one inch layer of ice, hence travel was slow due to the need of the front person to make steps. Mt Arete was gained by about noon and by now there was some fine patches giving us views of the surrounding rugged terrain. After a hop skip and a bum slide we were at Arete Biv for lunch. An excellent spot for a picnic. Earlier in the day, the destination was Dorset Ridge Hut however snow and ice played havoc with our time estimation, so now destination was Tarn Ridge Hut.
We were soon off again, this time however the thick cloud was rolling in for good hence out with the compasses every now and again. Snow and ice in the area had now two to three feet and was again very tiring. A quick discussion, on the side of Mt Lancaster (4,900 feet), had us off in the right direction down Tarn Ridge. GOSH GASP HORROR!! What are these things in front of us? My god they are pinnacles of rock and ice with drops in excess of 1,000 feet on either side of six inch thick ridges. We moved slowly forward on all fours. An hour or so later, and very relieved, we had navigated ourselves tentatively over the treacherous Waiohine Pinnacles. Advice in my book is not to do these in mid winter if there's alot of ice and snow and if you don't have some rope and especially if you are scared of heights (like me). Anyway, at this stage we were thankful for the thick cloud cover as it didn't let us see too much of what lay ahead. A quick cruise and we were at Tarn Ridge Hut.
Saturday dawned, the most perfect day you could get. We were up at approximately 6.00am to see the sunrise on a cloudless day. You could see right down both ranges, across the totally snow covered Girdlestone, Kings, McGregor Holdsworth on one hand and also down the main range from Crawford to Hector on the other. Looking back we could see Carkeek, Thompson and Lancaster and also the Pinnacles all snow covered and without wind, rain or cloud. Typical Tararua weather!!
Anyway, we set off on the next day of our journey which was planned as being: along Tarn Ridge to the junction of Mt Girdlestone (5,074 feet) and Dorset Ridge, down Dorset Ridge to the hut for lunch, then bush bash up an unnamed, untracked spur to South King (5,021 feet) across the Broken Axe Pinnacles, McGregor, Angle Knob to Jumbo Hut. However the heavy going. and the sun reflecting on the snow, again played havoc with timing and we didn't arrive at Dorset Ridge Hut until 1.00pm. Hence we wouldn't make it over Broken Axe and McGregor before nightfall, so our next plan was to follow Dorset Ridge down to Park Forks in the Waiohine then sidle the gorge until McGregor spur where we would ascend and spend the night around McGregor Biv.
Again, however, our plan changed as after grunting our way back up onto Dorset Ridge from the hut and continuing down to the base of the spur, we didn't arrive at the base of McGregor spur until 5.00pm. There we decided to pitch a fly next to the Waiohine River instead.
An early rise by alarm next morning (Sunday) at 6.00am saw us getting ready in the dark, as the sun didn't rise until about 6.45am. Anyway we still only got away by 8.00pm, after a few, including myself, decided breakfast in pit was in order. (The curried vesta from the night before eventually got us moving!) Two hours later we were having a brew at McGregor Biv in the snow. (Previous party had left the door open.) It turned out to be a lucky stop for Paul as he found a Casio sports 100 digital watch. Today's weather was cold and cloudy, with a moderate northerly blowing by the time we reached the top (again about 3 feet snow/ice). Visability was off and on and a strong cold wind was blowing. Knowing we had to reach Holdsworth carpark by 5.00pm we strode off over the completely snow covered Angle Knob and down to Jumbo Hut for lunch (be it a bit late i.e. 1.50pm).
Leaving at 2.15 we sprinted down to Atiwhakatu Hut in one hour five minutes. This is where we saw the search and rescue note for two VUWTC parties, misplaced in the Tararuas for a couple of days. A further one hour fifty minutes saw us arrive at Holdsworth Lodge at 5.10pm. The sprint was in vain, however, as our transport was nowhere to be seen. Another half an hour or so and after a quick toll call we found out that the transport was somewhere around about Walls Whare. We were finally picked up at about 7.00pm. So it was back to Wellington after a very enjoyable trip.
PS Note that it never rained and except for a little low
cloud the weather was excellent.
PPS The two VUWTC groups were found.
Medium Fit group was: David Oborn (Leader), Wayne Clark,
Paul Schuchmann, Roger Pooley, Murray Bathgate.
It was by pure chance I got on this trip and what a stroke of luck it was. I met Steve Spalding in a climbing shop in Anchorage three days before the trip started. That night he and Karl Swanson, the other member, asked me to join in, I had to front up with money first $300 (U.S.) for the flight in and a month's food. After that I was left with $15 and visa card!
Drove up to Talkeetna on 26/4 and flew out on the 27th. To the Revelation Range, about 150 mile S.W. of Mt McKinley. The flight took 2 hours in very bad weather and cramped quarters - Steve turned a lighter shade of green and had breakfast all over again! Seeing the plane fly away for a month was pretty scary especially when a pole on our sponsors tent broke when we were putting the tent up. Some makeshift repairs solved it. In the afternoon we snow shoed up the frozen river to look at our mountain - Mt Hesperous, 9,800 feet and unclimbed. On the 27th and 29th we tried two routes without success. Although we did a first ascent on a 50m frozen waterfall.
On the 1/5 we moved camp to the N.W. side of the mount where we saw a good route, only it was in the avalanche route for the whole N.W. face. We set camp and decided to climb that night to lessen the risk. So a few hours rest and we set off at 8.15pm. We gained the face by ascending a narrow gully which had a 45m frozen waterfall at the top. We ascended it solo - what a stoke. 45m of vertical ice. The next 1,000m consisted of snow slopes with three rock bands at about 40 - 45 degrees. Around dawn and still 700m from the summit, it steepened up and became hard ice. We roped up as we had been climbing all night and we were becoming tired 300m below the summit,. My crampon broke and came off, so I had to hang off my axe and hammer while I fixed and replaced it, which was pretty freaky with 2,000m to the vally below.
When we gained the ridge we cut three places to sit and boiled the billy to revive us. We left our packs there taking only our climbing gear and cameras. Eight more pitches on hard ice, then a plod on snow and the pyramid shape summit came into view. Then we were on top. It was a pretty numbing feeling to think that we were the first people there. We spent an hour there taking photos and taking in the view. The huge bulk of MCKinley dominated the N.E. horizon. We down climbed to our packs where we cooked up a instant dinner and then started to descend just after sun set.
Our descent was more direct and involved, less ice. Through tiredness I slipped and fell 4m down the ice unroped but by a fluke I got my axes and crampons to bite at the same time. if not it would have meant a long fall. Once on the snow we began the longest glissades ever. Although being dark we felt as if we were sitting still. We negotiated 2 rock bands, but had to wait until dawn for the third. A rappel down the waterfall then a plod back to camp, 36 half hours after we had started. An epic to say the least.
The rest of our trip was less successful, heavy snow caused a high avalanche danger. All three attempts on Babel Tower (2,600m) were curtailed with avalanches, including setting off a slab avalanche by stepping on the top facture line. Karl attempted another peak, apocalypse, solo but turned back 300m short with ankle deep power avalanches.
With the high avalanche danger and shortage of food we headed down the glacier to a landing spot for the plane and waited four days for our lift out. It was two days late arriving and left us with one meal left - the first thing we did on arriving at Talkeetna was to visit the general store which left me with just a visa card!
This was my first experience of overseas climbing and there are some big differences between Alaska and New Zealand. Firstly the thousands of mountains in Alaska and many of them unclimbed. A minor but important difference; in New Zealand when we go climbing it's a trip, in Alaska it's an expedition. This was bought home to me by the fact that we were sponsored.
Three young unknown climbers:
Justin LeSueur, Wellington, New Zealand.
Karl Swanson, Anchorage, Alaska.
Steve Spalding, Anchorage, Alaska.
A strong NW accompanied us up to Fields Hut one Friday night back in March, leaving the Southern Main Trip uncertain. The lack of recent rain meant the track up was usually dry.
Saturday saw Felicity waking Roger and me up at 6.00am. A bit keen for me, but as leader I had to be seen as enthusiastic and was soon up. The NW had now turned into a nippy light southery with mist. We were off at 7.30am and set a steady pace to Bridge Peak. The turnoff to Vosseler turned out to be hard to find in the mist, despite the excellent contouring on the new metric maps. Once on the trail there was no more problems as a fairly good groundtrail exists and is not hard to follow. The mist persisted all day but was not unpleasant and we were not getting wet. The Tararua Peaks provided its usual challenge in the form of the chain ladder and sidling near vertical slopes to get to Maungahuka. The hut is located next to a large tarn in a sheltered basin. The rest of the route to Andersons was traversed quickly. we reached Andersons some nine and a half hours after leaving Fields.
WARNING - very little in the way of water exists along the route and none between Maungahuka and Andersons, so take a waterbottle. Andersons Hut is located on the bushedge off the main ridge. Because of this, any first-timers to this area may have trouble locating the hut in the mist.
Next morning the mist was still with us as we , raced to Junction and Shoulder Knobs and then to Waitewaewae. The Otaki was only ankle deep to cross. A quick lunch and off to get out by 3.00pm. The sun was now out. The walk out over The Plateau is still the endless grovel it always was. We opted to take the Waitatapia Stream route out and did not regret it. An easy scenic route, definitely better than the track and probably quicker.
The Sothern Main Range makes an excellent weekend trip, but be fit as
it is quite a long trip.
Trip members:
Murray Corles (Leader)
Felicity Maxwell
Roger Pooley