Remarkables Ice & Mixed

One of the finest alpine day trips in the country, the Remarkables Grand Traverse leads you to the summits of Double Cone and Single Cone with exhilarating exposure over the West Face looking down to Lake Wakatipu and Queenstown. An absolute must do!

Hamish and I teamed up for the traverse on the final day of the Remarkables Ice & Mixed Festival. This festival brought together over 100 of the countries ice & mixed climbers, alpinists, and back country skiers. Having so many like minded people together was a great opportunity to mix with the country's best, share techniques and experience, and meet new climbing partners.

Photo: Mark Watson - Highlux Photo

The first day of the festival was hindered by lingering dangerous avalanche conditions; deep fresh snow on the access route had not yet bonded after a recent snow storm. We seized the day by climbing several rocky buttresses scattered around the ski field, leading with natural protection, climbing with ice axes and crampons in mixed climbing style. These climbs allowed us to gain confidence with the tenuous hooks of axe on rock, tuning into the feel and security of the hold, and discovering new techniques to get the most of these new climbing tools.

Photo: Mark Watson - Highlux Photo

Photo: Mark Watson - Highlux Photo

Photo: Mark Watson - Highlux Photo

The following day gave way to mint conditions, a bonded snowpack, perfect weather and fat ice formed up in the gulleys, pouring lavishly over the rock steps. The first steep gulley line instantly caught our attention: the MK Couloir. Graded M3 this would be well within our abilities, a good launching point into the world of ice & mixed climbing.

And there was no shortage of ice. Through the first two pitches, we hacked our way through three or four steep icy pinches, raving over the incredible feeling of ice axes biting deep in the plastic freeze, ice screws sinking to their crest.

The third pitch offered the crux: a bouldery roof with a thin ice smear for feet, but thick ice over the bulge for the tools. An exhilarating move. The final pitch sent us up a steep rock groove with thick ice flowing down the centre, taking screws with pleasure and stemming crampons from side to side. I smashed away storm brewed rime ice from the rock to search for cracks in the rock to place protection before pulling over the lip, a glorious top-out, just below the Telecom Towers summit, revealing the Alta Basins and endless view to the north.

The follow day of the festival provided an interesting concept for mountaineering: a race. A race over the Grand Traverse of the Remarkables. This route loops from the skifield carpark, taking in both Double Cone and Single Cone, following the narrow ridge lines from Telecom Towers.

Graded at Mt Cook 2+, this was not an outing to rush without ultimate confidence, and would definitely involve ropes and gear. Hamish and I teamed up for the traverse alongside 15 others on the Sunday morning. As several fast soloists disappeared over the precipitous ridge line with incredible speed, we gave up the fight for first, and set into cruise mode, aiming instead for maximum efficiency in our rope work. Near the summit of Double Cone came the crux. One pitch of grade 14/15 rock climbed with crampons and gloves, tools stowed, and another pitch of interesting mixed terrain. To solo these steep pinches would require nerves of steel.

Deep snow along the ridge connecting Double and Single Cone allowed for an easy ride to our second summit of the day. Skiers also enjoyed the good snow conditions by descending the Grand Couloir all the way to Lake Alta. From the summit of Single Cone, the views were tremendous, and we were treated with a simple descent to Wye Saddle and the Remarkables Skifield to finish. A superb day out with all the elements of a great adventure in the mountains, without the chore of a long approach walk. Day trips don't get much better...

Mt Rolleston - Rome Ridge

Sometimes the gamble pays off. Rome Ridge is one of the classic lines in the Southern Alps. But weather throughout the week had been dubious, resulting in high level rainfall and scattered new snow. However, the forecasted freezing level was to be low, with clearing skies on their way. Should we hedge our bets and give the climb a crack?

First light on Rome Ridge

We emerged above the Coral Track bush-line in the early hours of Saturday morning. Arthurs Pass village twinkled below; the sky was still dark. It felt good to be seizing the day, the stars shining above, I could sense a bluebird day on the cards. 

An icy gulley on the second buttress

I knew there were two buttresses to negotiate before Rome Ridge proper began, and these turned out to be more exciting than expected. Above the awkward transition from tussocks and rock to snow, we armed ourselves with crampons and ice axes - I was eager to attack the ice with my shining new Black Diamond Viper tools. As the terrain steepened,  powder snow thinned to reveal solid snow with patches of water ice. The tools swung beautifully, sinking deep into the snowpack, with a resounding thunk pulsing through my arm. The sensation was invigorating and inspired confidence in each placement as I pulled over a bulge of ice-smattered rock.

An exposed belay platform above The Gap

Above these two buttresses, we happily walked along a flatter section of the ridge towards the alluring upper five-hundred metres of the main ridge climb. Adorning the guide book's front cover, this aesthetic ridge climb is well known as a favourite line in the Southern Alps, for good reason. The sun was still low in the sky as we approached The Gap, an impressive archway of rock in a notch of the ridge, and the scene of the day's crux. Here the climbing steepened significantly, a rising traverse above a large drop into the Goldney Valley.

We hammered a snow stake into the base, and I began to lead up the thinly ice-covered rock, the rope trailing, but providing less and less confidence as I gained height. Our rack of protection equipment was minimal, yet the rock offered no cracks, and the snow was not deep enough for stakes. Heart in mouth, I continued carefully above for a full rope length. I brought the others up to a very compact snow patch.

Ben getting high on Rome Ridge

Past the crux of the climb, we traversed more steep terrain before reaching the ridge crest, greeted by a strong wind from the Crow valley. Free from the shackles of the rope, we continued up the sustained icy slopes of the ridge, relishing our growing height above the surrounding peaks. The summit was sweet, as we gazed over to the High Peak of Rolleston just across the Crow Neve. Our time was running out, lest we be subjected to a slushy descent of the Otira Slide, avalanche prone at the best of times.

Descending off Mt Rolleston Low Peak into the Otira Slide

The descent of the Otira Slide was tedious, though perhaps safer in the snow than the tumbling scree that Hamish and I experienced after the climb of the Otira Face the previous summer. Dropping into the Otira valley, the intimidating face slowly revealed herself, a daunting prospect with patchy snow covering the dubious rock.

Descending the Otira Slide

After having gazed up at the Rome Ridge some three years earlier, the satisfaction of finally scaling this beautiful line was all the greater. A climb of Rome Ridge sums up everything that's good about being in the mountains. It is pure 'type one' mountaineering fun: easy access, a short approach, consistent fun climbing, enough of a challenge to be satisfying without the overwhelming feeling of dangerous exposure. A classic line of the Southern Alps without doubt...

Looking back on a fine climb of Mt Rolleston, the bulk of the Otira Face visible centre

Gazing up at Rome Ridge from Avalanche Peak in January 2012

TWALK 2014

TWALK - the Canterbury Uni Tramping Club's annual 24 hour Rogaine. Back for another year. The weeks of speculation over the mystery location were finally put to rest as we watched the buses carry our team and 300 others into the Hakatere Basin in the great Rangitata valley.

All the teams came in flourishing costumes, including Cadbury Favourites, football referees, SWAT teams, and Star Wars characters. We put Tom Swan's territorials uniforms to use in our military formation of four: SEAL Team 6.

Saturday midday the great hooter sounded and we set off on Leg 1 out of 5 shooting into the lead, feeling the excitement and energy of the hundreds of rogainers behind us. Our enthusiasm was soon tempered by reality as we settled into a steady pace, knocking off the first 16 checkpoints in around 3 hours. The hash-house tasted good as always, fresh salad wraps filling us for Leg 2 and into the hills, where day turned to night. 

Fortunately our pace was sufficient to ensure we were off the steep gullies and hills by sundown, and onto the easier navigation of the swampy flats through the first hours of darkness. We turned to see a stream of headlights flailing around the hillside, quite aware of the added challenge that checkpoint searching in the night brings. We were glad this year the cryptic clues were reasonable to decode and quite cleverly led us to the controls.

The legs seemed seemed much quicker this year, by midnight we were finished with Leg 3 and flying into Leg 4 - the epic leg. As the winds of the early hours picked up, we ascended an unending ridge to summit Mt Barossa, and a long traverse of the ridge...

Now the sleep deprivation kicked in. The meagre visual stimulation of Christchurch's twinkling city lights in the distance and the faint headlamp beam lighting the way was not enough to support our heavy eyelids. Without committing ourselves fully to finding each clue, pulling every trick of navigation and cryptology out of the bag, we could end up searching aimlessly on blank hillsides with no reward... The added element of competition with some of the countries best rogainers provided the extra motivation needed to rise us from our slumber.

Patience and perseverence paid off. With each clue found, our spirits soared despite our lagging bodies. The ridge was incredibly exposed to the wind, and I copped the cold with only the thin nylon army shirts. But at the time, my body was numb to sensations. High on No-Doz through the night, I was wide-eyed focussed on finding each control, and nothing else really mattered.

Dawn came as we began a substantial descent back to the valley. Collecting the final clues, we staggered into the hash-house to an exciting morning scene of chaos and sleep-deprived souls. Thrilled, we realised our night's efforts had pushed us into a close 6th place.

After a breakfast of yoghurt and cereal (milk quantities were underestimated by a factor of 10), we set our bleary eyes on the task of Leg 5: we had two hours remaining to bag as many more points as possible. Emerging from the hash-house into the full brightness of day, we pushed aside the grogginess of the night to make every minute count. The thrill of the last remaining minutes returned us surprising bouts of energy as we desperately sprinted home to finish with barely ten minutes spare. 

As the final teams returned, some significantly late, the scores ended up being incredibly close with only 1 point between some of the top teams around us. Seal Team 6 was stoked to rock into 6th place and collapse after a mammoth all-night effort. The TWALK never fails to impress...

Craigieburn Moonlight Traverse

Castle Hill village, just past midnight. A full moon and a clear sky radiated above us, lighting up the basin. We had planned to sleep a few hours before setting off on our planned climb, but when greeted with conditions such as these... one  must pounce. We quickly packed our gear and left at 1am setting off towards the ranges...

We navigated across the undulating plains following the Hogs Back track towards a spur coming down from Mt Cheeseman. The Craigieburn Ranges are reasonably mellow such that you can simply pick a spur that looks good and climb happily to the top.

A recent snow dump presented us with fluffy shin deep powder snow from above the 1500m contour, but our craving for the white stuff allowed us to put aside the exhausting nature of plugging steps for hours on end. In pelaton formation, we shared the load, and reached the summit ridge of Mt Cheeseman in the wee early hours of 4am. Still hours away from the glint of sunrise, but our views were expansive in all directions. The power of the full moon illuminated all the peaks for miles in all directions. 

Now on the summit of the range after a hearty 1400m climb, the ridge traverse began. One particular section of the ridge proved gnarly and put some of the newer mountaineers in our group on edge, negotiating an exposed narrow rock ridge covered in powder. We persisted and overcame the difficulties, and were rewarded with easy snowy ridgeline to the next peak on the ridge, Mt Izard. 

By now the horizon fired up and we watched in awe as our moonlit landscape transformed into the vividness of day. Meanwhile behind us, the full moon lowered into a purple haze, not keen to leave in a hurry. We continued traversing the ridge taking in the incredible colour vibes of dawn with two beaming celestial spheres on our either side... Just enough visual stimulation to wear off the effects of sleeplessness after the long night.

On Mt Cloudsley, our final peak of the morning, we found we weren't the only ones enjoying the fresh snow. Ski and snowboard tracks carved sweeping turns down the aptly named Long Spur descending straight into Castle Hill village. We discarded our crampons and enjoyed a long glissade back down to the village in the hot sun. The day was still young. 

All photos credit: Daniel Redmond.

Heaphy on Wheels

The team alongside the Heaphy coastline. Photo: Daniel Redmond

Queen's Birthday long weekend... The mountains are still in transitory phase during June, too cold to climb rock, yet not enough ice or snow for swinging tools just yet. We left the peaks to brew and headed north: to the Kahurangi, to the Heaphy Track, a prized jewel for mountain bikers. Eighty kilometres of beautiful rideable single track, too groomed for walking, but perfect on two wheels. A six hour shuttle separated the east and west trail ends - dangerously threatening the critical ride:drive ratio of the weekend. Starting north of Karamea, we set out to ride the Heaphy, there and back...

Tropical riding between Lewis and Heaphy hut. Photo: Daniel Redmond

As soon as we hit the trail, I knew this would be a good one. Originally formed as a tramping track, but now groomed to Great Walk standards, the riding along twisty, technical and flowing single-track was sublime. Beginning up the Heaphy coastline showcased the beauty of the West Coast. There was a certain wildness to the crashing of the waves just a stone's throw from the soft trails winding under Nikau Palms. The extensive views north and south were only limited by the low winter sun catching the wafts of sea spray in the distance.

One of the many MTB bridges. Photo: Daniel Redmond

Two hours in, we reached the first of the Heaphy's six huts, perched on a clearing by the Heaphy river mouth. The river flowing out to the sea cut a narrow channel from the surging breaks, supposedly allowing skilled Polynesian canoeists safe passage ashore to the calmer eastuary waters. Here we also began our journey upstream, into the hills...

Spinning through the Gouland Downs. Photo: Daniel Redmond

An hour of beautiful riding through the coastal vegetation brought us past Lewis hut, crossing several huge swing bridges, made especially for mountain bikers. Over the past few years the trail has been made more accommodating for cyclists, but in return, the trampers are becoming resentful. During our weekend, riders outnumbered trampers about 15 to 1. But allowing mountain bikers to ride only during winter makes sense to keep the track busy all year round. 

View from James Mackay hut. Photo: Daniel Redmond

A long climb followed to gain the Mackay Downs plateau. Whoever cut the trail did a fantastic job - the fully rideable ascent climbed 800 vertical metres over a very pleasant gradient; spinning is winning. 12km later we reached James Mackay hut with a clear view back down to the Heaphy River mouth. Through the Gouland Downs the terrain changed completely, open golden plains with easy flat riding through tussock and beech forest. We ticked past the huts quickly, reaching our night's stay at Perry Saddle just as the sun dipped away, plunging us into a frosty night.

Those of us who had installed our bikes with front and back pannier bags now enjoyed the rewards of hot stew at the hut without the accompanying sore backs. We saw many inventive strategies to improvise these pannier bags, but its hard to beat the functionality of the Revelate bags - a 'Sweet Roll' hanging from the handlebars and rear saddle bag hanging from the seat post.

The famous Gouland Downs shoe post. Photo: Daniel Redmond

At Perry Saddle we had reached our peak of the ride, 900 metres above sea level. It seemed pointless to descend to Brown Hut, only to turn back again up the same long 800m ascent, simply for the sake of riding the entire track. Instead, the following day we began the return journey sweeping downhill through the Gouland Downs once more. Overnight a deep frost had cemented the track ice hard, causing painfully cold fingers in the chill wind and frozen toes as we crossed several rivers through flowing through the plateau. Soon we were rewarded with the incredible down hill section below James Mackay hut. One hour of pure bliss, speeding down the turns of the sidling climb that we'd endured the day before. Chris was flung from his steed at one point and partway down the side of the track, tearing skin all down one side of his torso. The adrenaline allowed him to continue riding to the bottom before he could attend to his stinging wounds.

Downhill fever. Photo: Daniel Redmond

We especially enjoyed the tropical section from Lewis to Heaphy huts. Gliding through the palms alongside the meandering estuary, chasing the sun into the west where it set amongst the crashing waves where the river met the set... A fantastic ride through surely New Zealand's most pristine back country trails. Ride on...

Sunset at the Heaphy River mouth. Photo: Daniel Redmond