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--- 195709 [2016/05/04 13:24] – [July Walks Report] kennettj
+++ 195709 [2016/05/04 13:34] – [Seven Weeks in New Zealand - Part VII] kennettj
@@ Line 417: / Line 417: @@
 Dot Butler
-Night, and the glory of the stars - all around the eternal mountain 0 peaks piercing the sky - down there the grey-white glaciers coiled like sleeping serpents in their beds - here the tumbled moraine rocks,
+Night, and the glory of the stars - all around the eternal mountain peaks piercing the sky - down there the grey-white glaciers coiled like sleeping serpents in their beds - here the tumbled moraine rocks,
 shadowy-soft in the starlight - here the little hut over which the darkness broods like a vast motherly hen - and within the hut four bodies safe and soundly sleeping.
-Suddenly with shattering insistence the alarm clock whirrs and shouts and we reluctantly crawl out of our banks, light a candle, and get the breakfast porridge on the way. We eat as we pack up. Then on
+Suddenly with shattering insistence the alarm clock whirrs and shouts and we reluctantly crawl out of our bunks, light a candle, and get the breakfast porridge on the way. We eat as we pack up. Then on
 with the boots. We clump outside and pick up our ice axes at the doorway and in the grey light before the dawn we make our way up the moraine heap to the first snow field on Mt. De la Bache. We have taken our
 first steps on the day's climb, our goal the twin snow peaks of the Minarets, ten thousand feet of sheer perfection.
-A steep climb up several snowfields plastered on the rocky flanks
-of Mt. De la Beche, and then a long plod round a steeply inclined iced
+A steep climb up several snowfields plastered on the rocky flanks of Mt. De la Beche, and then a long plod round a steeply inclined iced slope to the high Ranfurley Glacier while dawn touches the white summits with pink fingers suffusing them with rosy life. The Minarets are a snow climb all the way. In the thickly packed snow great crevasses open to incredible depths, hung with silver stalactites, and peering down one can see mounds and pinnacles of ice showing out in their mysterious blue depths. Great cliffs and crags of snow make up the mountain's height, and hummocks and mounds of snow cover its surface like merangue heaped indiscriminately over a wedding cake. It took us all the morning to reach a spot below a snow precipice with a deep crevasse knifed all around its base. Great chunks of snow had broken off the precipice and leaned askew in rickety precarious postures right across our route. Could we go on? We settled down in a safe position and ate lunch while we gave the matter some thought. As we munched our biscuits and cheese we did a bit of prospecting. A couple of flimsy snow bridges over the schrund looked as though they might give access to the snow cliff, but they were definitely dangerous; so we looked further afield. We crept gingerly along under some of the leaning snow masses, hardly daring to speak in case the vibration of our voices brought the thousands of tons of snow toppling down on us, and we managed to find an inclined bank of snow which gave access to the higher snowfield. From here we could see our summit peaks standing up like white pyramids from the rounded snowfield, and we knew that success would be ours. It was now getting fairly late in the afternoon so we lost no time in making for the highest summit. We successfully
-slope to the high Ranfurley Glacier while dawn touches the white summits with pink fingers suffusing them with rosy life. The Minarets are a
-snow climb all the way. In the thickly packed snow great crevasses
-open to incredible depths, hung with silver stalactites, and peering down one can see mounds and pinnacles of ice showing out in their
-mysterious blue depths. Great cliffs and crags of snow make up the mountain's height, and hummocks and mounds of snow cover its surface like merangue heaped indiscriminately over a wedding cake. It took us all the morning to reach a spot below a snow precipice with a deep
-crevasse knifed all around its base. Great chunks of snow had broken
-off the precipice and leaned askew in rickety precarious postures right across our route,' Could we go on? We settled down in a safe position and ate lunch while we gave the matter some thought. As we munched our biscuits and cheese we did a bit of prospecting. A couple of flimsy snow bridges over the schrund looked as though they might give access to the snow cliff, but they were definitely dangerous; so we looked further afield. We crept gingerly along under some of the
-leaning snow masses, hardly daring to speak in case the vibration of our voices brought the thousands of tons of snow toppling down on us,
-and we managed to find an inclined bank of snow which gave access to the higher snowfield. From here we could see our summit peaks standing up like white pyramids from the rounded snowfield, and we knew that success would be ours. It was now getting fairly late in the afternoon
-so we lost no time in making for the highest summit. We successfully
 got over the bergschrund at its base, then cramponed up the steep side of the pyramid and stood on the top of our first 10,000 footer. George took photographs, urging Snow and myself, as unwilling "human
-interest", out on to the edge of an overhanging cornice with who knows
+interest", out on to the edge of an overhanging cornice with who knows how many thousand feet of nothingness below it, the idea being that this would make a more spectacular picture. But I'm sorry to say the infinity of space below didn't come out in the picture and all that is to be seen is Snow and I crouching apprehensively on what appears to be a perfectly safe level snowfield, lashed on to a couple of ice axes in the foreground by various lengths of nylon rope. It is as difficult to photograph infinity as it is to describe it in words.
-how many thousand feet of nothingness below it, the idea being that
-this would make a more spectacular picture. But I'm sorry to say the
+It was too late in the afternoon to think of climbing Mt. De la Beche whose rocky summit rose out of the snowfield near by. It would probably have taken another hour or so, which time we could not spare
-infinity of space below didn't come out in the picture and all that is to be seen is Snow and I crouching apprehensively on what appears
+if we were to be off the mountain before dark, and in any case we felt it would be something in the nature of an anticlimax after the Minarets, so we followed back in our tracks and at sundown arrived back at the steep snow slopes above the hut. Here Whaka suggested glissading, and I watched him shoot down with the speed of a mail train till he came to a stop below looking as small as a grain of wheat. Snow and George scooted after him with terrific enthusiasm, and then I launched myself on the most thrilling and glorious glissade of a lifetime. "Glissading sure puts skiing in the shade!" says Snow.
-to be a perfectly safe level snowfield, lashed on to a couple of ice
-axes in the foreground by various lengths of nylon rope. It is as
+Back to the little hut, full of contentment after our successful day. We planned to cross over Grahams Saddle next day, to the Almer hut on the Franz Josef Glacier, so after our evening meal of pemmican
-difficult to photograph infinity as it is to describe it in words.
+stew and potato powder, and dried apricots to follow, we packed up in readiness for an early start in the morning. And as we busied ourselves with these tasks, night crept quietly over the mountains and another day soundlessly slipped away.
-.
-It was too late in the afternoon to think of climbing Mt. De la Dechei whose rocky summit rose out of the snowfield near by. It would probably have taken another hour or so, which time we could not spare
+Dawn saw us on our way, loaded with our heavy packs which by now had become part of us, creeping over the heaped moraine boulders, looking for a way down their steep slope to the Rudolf Glacier. Although it didn't look more than a half hour's climb, it took us two or three hours to get down to the glacier level. Then we followed up the glacier, the terrain getting steeper and steeper till in places it
-if we were to be off the mountain before dark, and in any case we felt 4 it would be something in the nature of an anticlimax after the Minarets, so we followed back in our tracks and at sundown arrived back at the steep snow slopes above the hut. Here Whaka suggested glissading, and I watched him shoot down with the speed of a mail train till he came to a stop below looking as small as a grain of wheat. Snow and George scooted after him with terrific enthusiasm, and then I launched myself on the most thrilling and glorious glissade of a lifetime. "Glissading sure puts skiing in the shadel" says Snow.
+seemed not many degrees from the perpendicular. A guided party had come across the previous day, so we kept on the lookout for their footprints, but they were not always easy to see in the hard snow and rocky sections. It was not yet necessary to rope up. We had spread out looking for tracks. I was alone on a snow slope about seven thousand feet up when I heard a soft swishing noise above. Thinking it was George I looked up, to see a huge fallen pillar of rock the size of a grey nurse shark sliding swiftly towards me: the heat of the sun had melted the ice which had held it to the snow face, and now it was on its way to join other avalanche rocks way down on the glacier below. I thought, if I rush wildly to one side I might run right into the track of it, with consequences too catastrophic to contemplate. It was not obvious which way it was going to slide, so I stood my ground and watched it come at me, as a hunter would watch a charging rhinocerus, then when it was just a couple of yards off I jumped to one side and watched it whistle right through the track of my footprints which I had made only a couple of seconds ago. Wow ! The others heard it crashing down to its doom but didn't see it. Snow told me later, with a note of disappointment in his voice, that he had thought it was my pack.
-Back to the little hut, full of contentment after our successful
- day. We planned to cross over Grahams Saddle next day, to the Almer
+Graham's Saddle is a very high pass, at about 8,000 ft, which leads from the Tasman Glacier over the Main Range to the West Coast of N.Z. Enormous masses of snow from the western slopes of the range collect in a huge basin called the Franz Josef neve, and push downwards towards the sea, consolidating to form the steep Franz Josef Glacier, From the top of the pass about midday we looked out over vast leagues of solitude. In the wide snow basin we could see MacKay rocks rising starkly like a black island out of a white sea of foam, and beyond that a rocky outcrop where the Almer hut is situated - about a thousand feet above the ice of the Franz. We were very jubilant at seeing our way so clearly laid out but were brought back to earth by the realisation that we didn't quite know where to start the descent to the snow basin. All the places we had inspected so far looked remarkably steep. Just then we heard a faint hum that grew
-hut on the Franz Josef Glacier, so after our evening meal of pemmican
+louder and louder and then we saw, coming up the Tasman Valley, the Mt, Cook Tourist plane - a bright blue humming bird looking incredibly tiny and brave against the stark rocky walls and icy avalanche precipices of the Mt, Cook Range, It came through the pass, right over our heads, and three times it circled us and dipped its wings in greeting before flying off towards the west coast Fox Glacier. For a while we
-stew and potato powder, and dried apricots to follow, we packed up in readiness for an early start in the morning. And as we busied ourselves
+thought it was trying to show us the route through the pass, but on inspection we found that this was not so. A bit more prospecting around eventually showed us the easy way down.
-with these tasks, night crept quietly over the mountains and another day soundlessly slipped away.
-Dawn saw us on our way, loaded with our heavy packs which by now
+All through the long afternoon we walked through the timeless had, the only living beings in the world which seemed just snow and sun and sky, and Whaka recited a poem - slowly - line by line so that I could learn it:
-had become part of us, creeping over the heaped moraine boulders,
-looking for a way down their steep slope to the Rudolf Glacier. Although it didn't look more than a half hour's climb, it took us two
+There is much comfort in high hills\\
-or three hours to get down to the glacier level. Then we followed up
+And a great easing of the heart.\\
-glacier, the terrain getting steeper and steeper till in places it
+We gaze upon them and our nature fills\\
-seemed not many degrees from the perpendicular. A guided party had
+With loftier images from their life apart.\\
-come across the previous day, so we kept on the lookout for their footprints, but they were not always easy to see in the hard snow and rocky sections. It was not yet necessary to rope up. We had spread
+They set our feet on curves of freedom bent\\
-out looking for tracks. I was alone on a snow slope about seven
+To snap the circles of our discontent.\\
-thousand feet up when I heard a soft swishing noise above. Thinking it was George I looked up, to see a huge fallen pillar of rock the size of a grey nurse shark sliding swiftly towards me: the heat of the sun had melted the ice which had held it Past to the snow face, and now it was on its way to join other avalanche rocks way down on the glacier below. I thought, if I rush wildly to one side I might runt right into the track of it, with consequences too catastrophic to contemplate. It was not obvious which way it was going to slide, so I stood my ground and watched it come at me, as a hunter would watch a charging rhinocerus, then when it was 'just a couple of yards off I
+Mountains are moods of larger rhythm and line\\
-jimped to one side and watched it whistle right through the track of
+Moving between the eternal mode and mine\\
-my footprints which I had made only a couple of seconds ago. Wow L1 The others heard it crashing down to its doom but didn't see it.
+Moments in thought of which I am but part.\\
-Snow told me later, with a note of disappointment in his voice, that
+I lose in them my instant of,brief ills.\\
-he had thought it was my pack.
+There is great easing of the heart\\
-Graham's Saddle is a very high pass, at about 8,000 ft., which
-leads from the Tasman Glacier over the Main Range to the West Coast
-of N.Z. Enormous masses of snow from the western stlopes of the range collect in a huge basin called the Franz Josef neve, and push downwards towards the sea, consolidating to form the steep Franz Josef Glacier, From the top of the pass about midday we looked out over
-..
-vast leagues of solitude. In the wide snow basin we could see MacKay rocks rising starkly like a black island out of a white sea of foam, and beyond that a rocky outcrop where the Almer hut is situated -
-about a thousand feet above the ice of the Franz. We were very
-jubilant at seeing our way so clearly laid outl'but were brought back
-to earth by the realization that we didn't* quite know where to start the descent to the snow basin. All the places we had inspected so far looked remarkably steep. Just then we heard a faint hum that grew
-. louder and louder-,-and then we saw, coming up the Tasman Valley, the Mt, Cook Tourist plane - a bright blue humming bird looking incredibly tiny and brave against the stark roky walls and icy avalanche precipices of the Mt, Cook Range, It came through the pass, right over our heads, and three times it circled us and dipped its wings in greeting before flying off towards the west coast Fox Glacier. For a while we
-thought it was trying to show us the route through the pass, but on inspection we found that this was not so. A bit more prospecting
-around eventually showed us the easy way down.
-All through the long afternoon we walked through the timeless
-had, the only living beings in the world which seemed just snow and sun and sky, and Whaka recited a poem - slowly - line by line so that I could learn it:
-There is much comfort in high hills
-And a great easing ofthe heart.
-We gaze upon them and our nature fills
-With loftier images from their life apart.
-They set our feet on curves of freedom bent
-To snap the circles of our discontent.
- Mountains are moods of-'1arger rhythm and line
-Moving between the eternal mode and mine
-Moments in thought of which I am but part.
-I lose in them my instant of,brief ills.
-There is great easing of the heart
 And cumulance of comfort in high hills.
-The words said themselves over and over again in my mind and
-soaked themselves into the landscape, and the landscape gave them back
-with part of itself incorporated in, them, so that now when I hear the words I see again the wide white solitude, the golden air, the shining breathless circle of the mountains reaching for the sky; I know again the rich companionship that imperceptibly grows - that binds a mountaineering party together as all about them the tremendous majesty of the peaks gathers closely and the glorious dreams and
-heroismts of all the climbers gone before them make the air seem bright with more than summer sun.
-The last half mile to the hut was through deep snow. We sank into it almost up to our knees, and an inquisitive'kea arrived from nowhere and padded along beside us like a little old man of the mountains, cocking his head to one side and squarking derisively whenever we would flounder forward on our faces. If we succeeded sometimes in gettintg ahead of him he would take to the air and fly to a spot just
-in front of us. Then he would turn and give us a cocky look as much
-as to say, "See how easy that is? I don't know why you're making such a labour of it l" George threw a chunk of snow at him at last, but they tell me this is bad luck.
+The words said themselves over and over again in my mind and soaked themselves into the landscape, and the landscape gave them back with part of itself incorporated in, them, so that now when I hear the words I see again the wide white solitude, the golden air, the shining breathless circle of the mountains reaching for the sky; I know again the rich companionship that imperceptibly grows - that binds a mountaineering party together as all about them the tremendous majesty of the peaks gathers closely and the glorious dreams and heroisms of all the climbers gone before them make the air seem bright with more than summer sun.
+The last half mile to the hut was through deep snow. We sank into it almost up to our knees, and an inquisitive kea arrived from nowhere and padded along beside us like a little old man of the mountains, cocking his head to one side and squarking derisively whenever we would flounder forward on our faces. If we succeeded sometimes in getting ahead of him he would take to the air and fly to a spot just in front of us. Then he would turn and give us a cocky look as much as to say, "See how easy that is? I don't know why you're making such a labour of it." George threw a chunk of snow at him at last, but they tell me this is bad luck.
 There was a reception committee of several more keas to greet us as we reached the hut, and they skated along the ridge pole and slid down the iron roof on their claws as we stamped inside and dumped our packs. Here I will leave us, making ourselves at home, and the final instalment next month will tell how we fared on the Franz Josef Glacier and the few days remaining of our holiday before returning to Sydney.