coming down the mountains story and photos by shane orchard
MAIN PHOTO Steve Eastwood ascending Mt Elie de Beaumont. In the background the Main Divide stretches towards Aoraki Mt Cook. INSET Andy Theng skiing off Nun’s Veil. Once off the summit area it’s a huge ski into the valley below— awesome in good powder.
4TH DECEMBER 2006. As we climbed out of a small valley the hut finally appeared— signalling that the day’s efforts would soon be over. A splash of colour in a big white landscape, it’s a real homing beacon of goodness to the weary traveller. The hut was attracting colourful characters too by the looks of things. People had been steadily arriving through the day, and it was now overflowing! We had quite an assortment of hut-mates, from trans-Tasman tourists, to local purveyors of speed ascents, a wordly group with their guides, and hard local climbers. Add some skis and a board for good measure and we had an interesting crew—all stoked to be up here. Evening saw more arrivals installing themselves in the vicinity, some going for tents, and some bivvying on the deck …
coming down the mountains
n the warmth of the Northland summer, I’m putting pen to paper, and memories like this seem such a world away! That December trip was definitely a highlight, though my thoughts also go back to Andy from Colorado, who had arrived for a couple of weeks of entertainment. This presented an excellent scenario, as I had just escaped work for a while. At the time, I’d had tried hard to engineer a dose of hut time á la Aoraki, but it wasn’t to be in the end. Still, I was determined to play tour guide and organise as best I could. Amongst dodging the marginal spring weather, and a comedy of road trips, we did manage a couple of trips in the mountains. Looking back, they were a great warm-up for eventually getting up to the névés, not to mention fuel for few good yarns along the way! Our last mission went down especially well. Like a good CSI plot it had weaved itself, from conception in urban Christchurch, through many incarnations onto the after-party which followed nicely. The journey began, as they often do, with a few bleary-eyed hours on the road. This brought us to an early morning in Mt Cook village, greeting clearing skies, peppered with freaky clouds. We traded our car-interior for a world without heaters and sound systems. Although it had felt like summer a few clicks back, here it was decidedly wintry. New Zealand’s contrasts never cease to amaze! This was just what we were after of course, and the inevitable question was soon to be asked: ‘Well, what’s the snow going to be like up there?’ By that stage I was stuck in the tour guide’s hot seat but I had to admit that I didn’t know. The report said new snowfall of 1.5 to 2 metres on the Divide. So we agreed to settle in for some lengthy crystal ball gazing, and scurried about the village in search of a coffee or two. Our momentum flagged there for a little while, until finally a flurry of helicopter-less possibilities suggested themselves. We reluctantly contemplated a new—and far more laborious—camping plan. This took a lot of convincing, especially due to a disturbing revelation about pack size maximus, meaning that we would have to discard half of the shopping and most of the good stuff. But somehow we overcame our procrastination and resigned ourselves, sadly, to unpacking our mountains of goodies—fully chosen with air-trafficking in mind. The stuff that disappeared from our pile of five-plus days worth of former ‘essentials’ was quite disheartening. We had almost got over that business until, several hours later, the question of dinner resurfaced. Adios dream gourmet ski tour! On the plus side, the weather cooperated perfectly, together with the generous amounts snow on hand for the trip. Our vague plan to chase freshies in the shade and slushies in the sun got the nod, and it turned out to be quite possibly the best five days we could have asked for. The touring was great— we had a few good missions to Mounts Jean and Darby—plus the main event of the trip, a powdery south face of Mt Sealy. We found lots of excellent lines in these parts— topped off nicely with some hitherto unnoticed discoveries on Mt Kitchener. Our ‘no-mishaps’ theme was successful too, having worked its way into our psyche due to previous events! On this occasion
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The adventure begins on the floor of the Tasman Valley, with the snow a long way off! The occasional speedbump slowed progress on the way up the valley. One reason to do more bouldering …
Andy Theng with the summit slopes of Nun’s Veil beyond— the scene of his nasty encounter on the ice only moments before.
our wishes were granted and we emerged happily unscathed. Nearly not so the previous trip! That effort had coincided with the first snowfall for some time which hadn’t been accompanied by strong winds, although this wasn’t entirely obvious to begin with from our rendezvous at base camp Twizel. The next two days or so promised good weather, and so with the assistance of the Glacier Explorers crew, I opted to take my American guest on a multi-sport adventure. With the sun now shining, we embarked with a blast around the Tasman Glacier lake. Then all too soon it was time to wave goodbye to the machinery, and say hello to a demoralising swathe of moraine and other obstacles which were set to dominate our day. As two small load-bearing ants toiling along the hot valley floor, I’m sure we provided an entertaining spectacle for many that afternoon. To cut a long story short we proceeded along the Gorilla Stream route—via scrub bash and boulder hop—towards our destination: Nun’s Veil or the ‘Mighty Monkey’, as Andy called it. On the way we encountered some solid bouldering moves which were even more interesting because of their exposure to an ugly torrent below, and our heavy packs! The next day was a perfect blue blazer and by mid-morning we realised the full implications of the new snow at hand. We had up to 25cm of the lightest snow, with no wind effect, making the whole place extremely skiable. The summit was cloudless and windless—just perfect for Andy’s first taste of the vistas around Aoraki. Shortly after, we got going on the downward leg, and soon got to the one exciting pitch of the descent. Here, the Mighty Monkey threatened to assert its dominance, and things got quite exciting! The dry powder over multiple bulges of hard, steep glacier ice produced some memorable moments. First up, and my first turn on the face sent up a billow of powder which engulfed the scene. Now blind and alarmingly moving at an increasing speed, I somehow managed to negotiate the bulgy ice section, with an impressive powder cloud streaming out large. So far so good, but unfortunately we didn’t have the camera out! There was still plenty of excitement left for Andy as he took his turn to drop in. Partly as I hadn’t rearranged all the powder there, but mostly because the line also involves a crucial traverse to the left—or else confront a second bulge on the glacier and most likely be flung off cliffs into the valley below! Andy was underway when a slight stutter sent him catapulting forwards: ragdolling over the first bulge and accelerating through the lower face towards the next bulge of doom ... A couple of ragdolls short of that, Andy thankfully rolled to a stop. He then calmly edged across the face to greet my slightly panicked self with the remark, ‘that Mighty Monkey nearly kicked me off the edge!’ We waited a few more minutes to make sure that the Monkey was well off our backs, before enjoying the remainder of the 1100 metre run back to our bivvy. Back on low ground in the peaceful valley, we were all smiles, but the events of the day were a reminder of the sharper end of ski mountaineering missions. They were some good times, but of course all’s well that ends well! The season also distinguished itself by providing at least a smattering of reasonable weather over the fickle spring period, which was much appreciated. There might have been a few glitches but the scene was set perfectly in early December when at last a big high came drifting along. That was good news for Rory Camm and myself at the time, having time for just one more trip before the inevitable recommencement of that four letter word beginning with ‘W’! ÷
Rory Camm near the summit of Glacier Peak (3002m), Main Divide.
Rory Camm warming up the day with a ski on the Explorer Glacier, before heading to Conway Peak in the background.
5TH DECEMBER 2006. It’s been a relaxing evening in the comfort of the hut, following another excellent day on the snow.. It’s 10pm and we’ve just spotted lights up on Lendenfeld indicating that Al Uren and the guys have successfully escaped from their new route on the west face. We can see them standing where we were a few hours ago which is a nice thought! We’d been wondering what was up, as they’ve been out for 18 hours. I imagine them looking enviously at our tracks right about now, as they begin the down-climb towards the névé. Tomorrow we’ve got plans on the go for something new and even better. And better still, tomorrow morning will be a sleep-in as we need all the sun we can get. Gavin’s getting up at 1am to avoid the sun, and we’re sleeping in to get some sun, such is the world of contrasts!
6TH DECEMBER 2006. Back safely again. What a day! My tongue is sunburnt. (Didn’t factor that one in did I!). Rory has fared much better thanks to his Arabian style headgear. During the day’s exploring we discovered some brilliant lines, and, as a bonus, my board mostly behaved itself all day! The first thing we went up was the ‘Prime Rib’ on Bristol Top, which we had been oogling all week. It really lived up to its name with very funky terrain, and was steep enough to require a good dose of commitment. Late afternoon saw us up the south west face of Conway Peak, which also lived up to our expectations—in fact it made it all the way to number one on Rory’s list! It was a classic run and also wide enough to happily go really fast. (A good thing!) Our mission was complete, and we couldn’t have asked for a better note on which to end a journey in the hills.
High Points
Sunrise on Elie De Beaumont (3109m), Tasman Valley.
NEW ZEALAND’S ULTIMATE IN EXPANDED SKI TOURS IS FOUND IN THE 3000 METRE REALM. IN THE AORAKI MT COOK AREA THERE ARE FOUR CLASSIC HIGH POINTS THAT ARE WELL-RECOGNISED AS POTENTIAL HOSTS FOR GRAVITY POWERED FREE DESCENTS, EACH OFFERING SUMMIT LINES ON THE MAIN DIVIDE.
Mt Elie de Beaumont Elie is the most frequented of the big peaks by touring parties. The whole slope is reasonably moderate, there’s a choice of routes up and down, and it also holds excellent powder in cold conditions. The most aesthetic line is dependent on conditions on the Anna Glacier, as it is basically straight down the guts. To do this in good style you need to memorise terrain options and obstacles fairly precisely to be able to carry speed. From the summit there’s a short icy face leading down to the shoulder, and from there you can choose between dropping into the Anna or continuing down the ridge to the col below Walter for a more straightforward route. The line that runs down the Anna, past Walter and Green and on to the flatter terrain further down the Tasman would make an epic ski run in powder, for its length and quality. Going on memories of sampling it in two stages, that would be a long day’s mission though!
Glacier Peak
Lendenfeld
Of the bigger peaks visited during 2006, this one was in great condition on the west face. In the centre of the face, you choose from a reasonably dodgy-looking selection of bridges on your way down. From the summit the face was set up with rolling curves that draw you into certain lines. (Beware of huge cornices overhanging to the east!) Going with the flow we negotiated a couple of small ice cliffs and schrunds to get onto the lower face. Aesthetically, it was good all round.
Another classic for ski mountaineers. Approaching the peak, there is a selection of routes through the icefall in the Haast Corner area, with three likely options for the descent—all being funky. Heading up the North Ridge route we found a peculiar feature which is apparently commonplace there. It looks like a small but lengthy schrund running right down the line of the ridge, perhaps resulting from the ice pulling down close to the ridge on both sides of the mountain. It creates a thin eerie strip of terrain close to the east cornice line but sheltered from the exposure down the north face. It also functions to trap new snow a lot better than the north face slope which was a sastrugi field on our visit. On descent from the summit you are fully exposed to the large north face which rolls off quite disturbingly. We traversed on a rightwards angle for about 30 metres to get close to the east face drop-off, at which point the top of the downwards running schrund was visible. We then jumped it from the top onto the better snow of the ribbon below (don’t overshoot!). The line continues straight down the ridge from there, and onto the glacier sections below. All up, it’s a solid cross country ride down to the névé. Conditions were generally favourable for these routes in 2006. Perhaps we got lucky—the nature of some of these routes certainly changes from year to year as well as from day to day. Judging by the notes left in the hut books, there were some great tours found elsewhere in the area too. No doubt!
The Minarets The west face is a good general mountaineering route. The climbing is enjoyable with expansive views out west, and the summit area is feel-good too. The descent is quite a New Zealand classic. After a few turns down to the saddle area from the summit, the lines down the west face are steep in anyone’s books. There is no clear run-out to help with high speeds once you get started, and in my case the line between ‘in’ and ‘out of’ control got fairly blurred. It would be easy to crash here going fast Keep away from ice cliffs and the falling debris zones to the skiers left of the face.
On the Minarets (3040m), Main Divide. Malte Brun the background.
Steve Eastwood dropping off the summit of the East Minaret on the Main Divide.
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THE CLIMBER ISSUE 60 | WINTER 2007
Steve Eastwood negotiating terrain typical of our highest peaks.
Rory Camm searching for a way through the schrunds on the west face of Glacier Peak (3002m), Main Divide.