Adventures around Mt Cook

Huh, time slips by quickly. I have been back in the US for over two weeks and have still not written about the end of my New Zealand trip. But do not be afraid! Here it comes...

In Wanaka from whence the flowing prose that last graced A Playful Search for Beauty last arose through daft key strokes on my keyboard, Orin and I secured provisions then drove north. The following day we arrived in the village of Mt Cook. Mt Cook itself is clearly visible from the village, rising over 3000 meters above the village. We had plotted to attempt the North ridge of Mt Sefton, a rock ridge that rises for 2000 meters of technical terrain. However, the weather report for Wednesday was poor, so we abandoned the plan. Then I had a crazy idea: the weather was supposed to be poor for Wednesday only. So if we hiked into the base of Mt Cook on tuesday and huddled in the tent all day Wednesday, we would be in a perfect position to climb Mt Cook itself on Thursday!

With this itinerary in mind, Orin and I climbed at the Sebastapool Bluffs on Monday. It was enjoyable cragging, on less than vertical rock with blocky crimps reminiscent of Devil's Lake in WI. We climbed a few sport and gear pitches, then simul-climbed a five-pitch 5.8 in about 15 minutes. We spend the night below the village in a medow by the Tazman river. The sunset was striking! It was disconcertingly windy all day, and we read that the winds up high were around 60 km / h.

Tuesday we arose early, filled out the intention form at the visiter's office - this is the form that tells the park where you are going, so if you don't return they can send out a rescue - and started hiking shortly after 8am. A quick 8.5 km hike up a grassy lateral moraine brought us to the point where we were forced to drop onto the glacier. The glacier has receded significantly in recent years, and the moraine wall is steep, loose, and around 50 meters high. We dropped to the glacier at this point. This part of the lower glacier is completely covered by dirt, gravel and rocks and you wouldn't even know you were walking on ice. We trudged up the valley for several hours over the glacier, navigating a few exciting stream crossings on the surface of the glacier. At 2pm we arrived at the base of the Hass ridge which we intended to take up to the Grand Plateau and our staging area for Mt Cook. The Hass ridge is a 1500 scramble of loose moraine, very steep grass, and loose rock. Despite the fact that it is the easiest approach to the easiest route on Mt Cook, there was very little sign of trails at all. I am still a bit confused why there was so little trail, though I know that this is in a large part due to the fact that virtually all clients who hire a guide to take them up Mt Cook fly in and are dropped off on the Grande Plateau.

The climb was brutal with full packs. Steep moraine walls are always horrendous, however even after we had finished the moraine I still used my hands constantly to pull on grass or rocks. There were sharp plants similar to yukka to watch out for and the grass under-foot was very slick. After much struggling, we arrived at the Hass hut near the top of the ridge at around 6pm. The wind was fairly fierce, and we took a break in the hut. I was waiting to see if Orin would suggest just stopping there for the night, and I think he may have been waiting for the same thing, but neither of us actually suggested it so we kept going with the goal of reaching the Grand Plateau by night. We donned our crampons and slogged up a steep snow slope. Hoping to cut directly across to the Plateau Hut instead of gaining the extra 200 m to go over the dome at the top of the ridge, I traversed around to the right to a small saddle in the ridge. The Plateau Hut was directly across from me, but separated by a steep slope capped by a threatening serac and guarded on the bottom by a large bergshrund. Orin arrived and we decided that we were too tired to continue to the Plateau that evening, especially because it would require traversing back around to the right and climbing a loose 4th class gully of rock.

In the growing wind we kicked out a platform for the tent on the edge of the snow and set it up off of stakes and trekking poles buried dead-man style, a cam, and a baby-andle piton driven into the rock. After a delicious pasta meal, we went to bed quickly. The wind blew hard all night, shaking the tent loudly. Despite by fatigue, it took some time to fall asleep because of the shaking of the tent. I rolled over many times, especially when the tent was blowing so hard that the side was almost laying on my face.

None the less, I woke up the next morning feeling rested. The storm hadn't blown in yet, though the wind gusts continued to intensify gradually. We could see clouds building over the ridge, but they did not seem to be approaching quickly. We decided to leave our camp where it was and climb up to the Grand Plateau to have a look around. The usual climb was barred by a large bergshrund, so we traversed around to a steep, loose rock gully which lead quickly to the Grand Plateau. We descended to the Plateau Hut to get a better look at Mt Cook. The wind on the Grand Plateau was fierce, pelting us with snow bullets that stung even through a Gortex shell. We could see some of the Linde Glacier route - our intended decent - and it was VERY cut up by crevasses. In the Plateau Hut, the log book spoke of successful ascents in late January and a few in early February. The last successful ascent, by a team from eastern europe, had taken place a bit under a week earlier and talked of endless traversing to avoid crevasses. We called down to the main DOC office to get a weather report. In abbreviated form it went something like this. "Today, the storm will continue to build. Heavy rain and winds up to 90 Km / h expected at 3000 meters. Tomorrow, rain passes by early morning, but winds remain high." Orin hugh up the phone, we looked at each other and pointed down. There would be no climbing Mt Cook this trip.

We decided to try to hike most of the way out that same day. Returning to camp, we packed up and headed back down the ridge. Instead of taking the grass down as far as possible, we quickly dropped into a moraine gully. The wind was now flinging rain drops around. Often it would blow directly up the gully, sand-blasting our faces with dust. Several times I had to sit down because I could not see anything. Despite the wind, the gully was efficient and we arrived at the glacier in 1 hour. During the slog back across the glacier the rain started in earnest.

We came to the old site of the Ball shelter at 6pm soaked to the bone. I mean, completely soaked through. Oh man, budget soup never tasted so good! There's nothing that says, "honey, I love you" like budget soup... After a delicious meal I drifted off to sleep in my damp down bag and clothing.

The next morning was beautiful. We had a leisure hike out to the car while the wind continued to whistle through the high peaks. All in all, it was an intense experience but enjoyable in that removed, retrospective sense. I certainly have a good idea what it would take to climb Mt Cook now, and am looking forward to a return trip - earlier in the season when the crevasses are covered.