REPRODUCED COURTESY OF SHAUN BARNETT and NEW ZEALAND WILDERNESS MAGAZINE
As featured in New Zealand Wilderness Magazine
Off The Beaten Track April 2002
Around Aoraki
An alpine trip from the Linda to the Hooker Glacier
By Shaun Barnett
December 1998. Grand Plateau, Aoraki/Mt Cook National Park.
Somehow I just know Phil is going to take us up the steepest section of ice he can find. Sure enough, guide Penney begins front-pointing up an ice wall that, to my eyes, looks to be in one place - partially overhanging. Naturally, Phil makes it look easy, linking strong fluid moves with all the skill and grace youd expect of an alpine guide.
He reaches the end of the rope, and hacks a belay shelf out of the snow. In an instant, hes pulling the rope through a belay device, giving me momentary pause to regret that I am attached to the other end. Well, not quite the other end my companion Darryn Pegram is tied in five metres behind me, and like Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee we begin a rather clumsy, slow ascent of the wall. As Id feared, the ice proves slightly overhung. Grovelling over the lip sees me kicking small flakes of ice down onto Darryn, and I have energy enough to consider that being the middle person on the rope has some advantages. When I reach Phil at the belay shelf, I feel slightly sick with the effort, and stand for a queasy few seconds with my eyes closed.
After Darryn joins us, Phil is soon leading upwards again, and as the gradient eases I slowly began to enjoy the climb. Once on the ridge, the eastern one of Mt Dixon, the rest of the climb unfolds relatively smoothly. Near the summit gusts of wind billow the rope out over the Haast Glacier.
On the summit we stand together, Darryn and I grinning like Cheshire cats, with the Tasman Glacier way, way below. The highest peaks of the Southern Alps rise around us, making the 3004m summit of Dixon seem rather puny.
On the plod back across the plateau to the hut, the afternoon snow is soft like soggy rice pudding, and we labour in the stupefying heat. At the hut we meet some Australians whove spent the day ploughing a trench up the Linda towards Cook, only to retreat after the waist-deep snow takes its exacting toll. In these sorts of conditions there is no way we can tackle our intended trip a partial circumnavigation of Aoraki/Mt Cook: over Clarke Saddle to the West Coasts La Perouse Glacier, then back east over Harper Saddle and out down the Hooker Glacier.
It had been surprisingly difficult to get anyone interested in guiding us over Clarke Pass, a little-used route lying between Mts Teichelmann and Malaspina on the main divide. While both Darryn and I had limited climbing experience, we felt sufficiently competent and fit enough to tackle such a route with a guide.
Id rung around a number of guiding companies and most had tried to deflect us onto alpine instruction courses, or onto climbs at the head of the Tasman Glacier. But a trans-alpine trip in a rarely crossed part of the Southern Alps was what wed set our sights on, and finally Guy Cotters Wanaka-based company Adventure Consultants came through with guide Phil Penney. Phil has some impressive climbs to his credit, including the Cassen Ridge of Alaskas Mt Denali, and a 27-day winter traverse (with Allan Uren) of the crest of the alps between Elie de Beaumont and Mt Cook. Not only did Adventure Consultants come up with the perfect guide for us, but they also allowed us to save costs by organising our own food.
Not that Phil was very impressed with the one box of food we shuffled into Plateau Hut after the helicopter flight in. Knowing theyll be flying out, most climbing parties bring in boxes and boxes of stuff, including more than a few luxuries. But Darryn and I knew that completing our trip would require carrying most of the food, and planned light meals as a result. Phil had looked doubtfully at what he probably considered to be trampers rations, not proper climbing food.
Wed warmed up by practicing our rope technique on Glacier Dome, followed by the ascent of Dixon the next day. An afternoon of bad weather allows only a wet scramble up some rock buttresses on the Dome, before some experimental self-arresting. Snow conditions remain terrible, and several disappointed climbers opt to fly out.
But that night savage clouds swell over Aoraki, smouldering in the sunset. The ensuing storm proves to be violent, and for a day we remain hut-bound while pelting rain slowly melts away all the soft snow. By the dawn of our fourth day, conditions are perfect. Cramponing up the Linda Glacier proves fast, and by the time alpenglow overtakes the highest summits we are at the foot of Clarke Saddle. The saddle (2978m) is often cut off by schrunds, but we are lucky to strike good conditions.
The upper Linda is an intimidating place, surrounded by menacing ice-cliffs, with Aoraki always imposing its might at the valley head. In addition, huge seracs overhang from the south side of the Silberhorn ridge, and I feel very small, very much a tramper, and quite out of my element. Naturally, I try my damndest not to show a trace of how Im feeling. Phil leads up the sharp slopes towards Clarke Saddle.
At the belay stance Darryn doesnt notice my disquiet, despite knowing me well. This is where Phils people skills really impress me. At the second belay stance, he has but a moment to assess us before he hands over the rope and leads off. Just as he is about to start he looks at me knowingly and says, Are you alright Shaun?
I lie and claim that Im fine, and after a doubtful look at me, he leads off. At the next stance he questions me again, and I just manage to convince him all is OK. As it transpires, by the time we cross the pass - Phil hacking through a cornice and ushering us across in a sudden cold wind - Ive got over the exposure. But this insight leaves me extremely impressed by his intuition, and I think about how these soft skills are equally important in a guides repertoire as hard climbing ones.
To save time, Phil lowers us down steep slopes from the saddle into the head of the La Perouse Glacier. We jump across a couple of slots, and thankfully the wind dies away. Breakers on the Tasman Sea show clearly, and low cloud drapes the Fox Range - fluffy insignificant stuff that we know will soon burn off. Its exhilarating to leave the busy Tasman valley behind and venture into challenging country that is new to all of us, even Phil.
Getting around the head of the La Perouse involves at least one rock step, and Phil had estimated wed need two days to reach Empress Hut. Roped up on the crevassed terrain we circle around a great prow of rock rising to Malaspina. On the far side some judicious navigation takes us through a series of seracs until were beneath the awesome north face of Hicks. This 600m face is rarely climbed, and presents a remote challenge to alpinists skilled on rock. One astonishing route on the face, called Weeping Gash was first climbed by Guy Cotter and Nick Craddock in the winter of 1986 and required two bivouacs.
Once were across this section of the La Perouse Glacier here divided into three distinct branches, we reach the first and as it turns out only - rock step. Phil leads up a gully partially filled with snow. There are scant places to put in any protection, but the gradient eases above the first pitch. At the belay stance Darryn and I stand delicately on our front points while Phil scrambles over mixed ground onto the crest of the spur. An airy traverse above the third branch of the La Perouse takes us to a large flat snow shelf where we can relax and eat some lunch.
We briefly debate the merits of a bivvy on the shelf, but decide to push on for Empress Hut. After all, conditions are near perfect and Phil proves to be a machine of impressive efficiency, all his rope work fast and immaculately tidy. He lowers us down another series of steepish slopes to where its a simple plod up onto Harper Saddle, once again on the crest of the Main Divide. We cross the Southern Alps for the second time that day, and down climb into the head of the Hooker Glacier.
Empress Hut lies just over the other side of the valley, perched on a shelf with both Aoraki and Mt Dampier, New Zealands highest and third highest mountains, prominent behind.
No air access is allowed into the Hooker and in comparison to the Tasman, the valley is a haven of quiet, save of course, for the occasional creaking complaints of the glacier itself. Now we are on the opposite of Aoraki from where wed been just twelve hours before.
Its been an exhilarating twelve hours, and the time had passed as quickly as it always does when the adrenaline flows. Darryn and I feel a great sense of achievement, and we can sense that Phil is pretty pleased at having successfully taken us over a rarely-guided route. Phil, as our guide, has led us into a world wed rarely otherwise experience. While physically capable of undertaking the trip, we lack the mental hardness and technical ability to have done it on our own. That chance to safely reach your limits and beyond is the gift that guides can offer.
Another climbing party at the hut offers us a pot of green tea, which to my parched mouth seems like nectar from the Gods.
The view from Empress, New Zealands second highest hut - is simply sublime. Late evening light illuminates the angular wedge of Mt Sefton rising to the south, and towards dusk huge ice blocks in the upper Hooker sink into purple shadow.
Normally, the walk out the Hooker Glacier takes two days, and involves a detour to Gardiner Hut and over Pudding Rock. Near Gardiner, the middle reaches of the glacier steepen and its often impossible to find a route through the crevasses. However, our hut companions inform us theyd simply bowled straight up the glacier, and the next day we follow suit on the way down.
Its blisteringly hot in the glare of the midday sun, and we rain sweat onto the ice. Further down we leave the glacial moraine, and scramble up onto some shelfs on the true left. Here tussocks mingle with Mt Cook buttercups and other alpine herbs. Occasional kea cry their melancholy cries, and we rest by babbling streams to eat.
Back at the Hermitage Bar, we imbibe cool beverages while the last colour seeps off the south face of Aoraki. Weve enjoyed Phils calm, relaxed manner, and his unending ability to poke fun at us. Most of all, weve appreciated his willingness to take on a trip that some other guides had shied away from. Out trip has ended up finishing a day early but as its been such a great trip wed not have objected at all if Phil wanted to head back to Wanaka. Typically, the next day he takes us climbing on the Sebastopol Cliffs instead.
Wild File
Grade: Mountaineering (3-). Only experienced climbers should attempt such a route. Lesser-experienced climbers should consider a guide. Dan Bryant and Lud Maham first reached Clarke Saddle in January 1933, from Teichelmann.
Time: 5-6 days. The condition of the Hooker Glacier and Clarke Saddle varies considerably, and this will affect progress. During some seasons Clarke Saddle is cut off by schrunds, and the Hooker Glacier is rarely traversable without a detour around to Gardiner Hut and over Pudding Rock.
Map: H36 Aoraki/Mt Cook
Huts: Plateau Hut (22 bunks) Empress Hut (12 bunks). Both huts can get very busy during the peak summer season, especially Plateau. A new, larger Plateau Hut is to be constructed in the future. While climbers can fly into Plateau, there is no air access into the upper Hooker Glacier.
Information: Aoraki/Mt Cook - a guide for mountaineers by Alex Palman, NZAC 2001.
