Hut Peak

With Greg Robinson, Ross Cullen (NZ) Jim Feist (NZ), Stein (Norway), Rebecca (NZ), Bill (Australia),
another Alan or two (NZ?) and a cast of thousands whose names I can't recall.

After waving goodbye to Caroline at the end of the road, Greg, Sophie and I sauntered up the broad Hopkins valley towards Elcho Hut for the annual NZAC camp. The expansive valley floor was largely dry, providing the wind ample opportunity to whip the dusty bed up into our eyes.


As we advanced up-river, the mountains loomed above us, in particular the Dasler Pinnacles, set forward in the valley, presented their sheer faces and the challenge of their awesome, 400m central corner to all comers. This was definitely a climb to add to our checklist.

By the end of the day, most of the climbers and associated camp-mum's were set up (some in dubious locations - more on that later) in an arc stretching some 300m around the border between the beech forest and the Elcho Stream delta.

The photograph (below, left) shows Sophie (aka Camp Mum) hard at work whilst Macpac Man takes a rest from his role as fashion model to imitate the local climbers in their lack of colour co-ordination and style. Mt Jackson flashed brilliant white (below, right) over the camp – another target for future days – and timekeeper for the week as it let its 10.20pm ice-falls tumble into the South Elcho valley.

 


The first morning for climbing dawned clear enough and 23(!) folks in a variety of attire ranging from t-shirt, shorts and running shoes through to gortex and climbing boots fronted outside Elcho Hut for an amble up Hut Peak. The climb was to be lead by Ross Cullen, author of the guidebook for the region, in his brilliant yellow shorts, faded red anorak and stripey blue thermals (Kiwi climbers aren't known for their dress sense). Of course he was not to be seen without his "hand-peeled" tree-limb alpenstock which gave him the appearance of a beardless Gandalf-the-technicolour.

The route began heading up a stream bed just behind the camp. Rapidly the group became spread along its course as the incline became more and more steep. Rest stops became (a little too) frequent as we criss-crossed the boulder-strewn watercourse. Somehow Greg, Stein, Rebecca, myself and a young boy whose name I don't recall headed up a tussocked gully to the right whilst everybody else headed up a ridge to the left. "Do we have a plan?" asked Stein. "Well, no, not really. It sure is amusing watching the others stumble around on the far side of the gully though."

What remained of the left and right ridge mobs met up on the crest of the ridge for a "map scrum" and just in time for a few spots of rain and a blast or two of wind. The steepening ridge and the weather convinced a few to turn tail and head downwards. This left eight hardy folks to continue the route in the blustery but reasonable conditions.
The ridge proved an easy scramble to the foot of a vertical face of the usual Weet Bix I have come to associate with NZ alpine climbing. Ross stashed his wizard's staff and lead the way in his yellow shorts. Jim, after a few muttered words about how ridiculous this was, followed him up the pitch. From memory Stein (at the right of the photo), Rebecca (out of shot) and the other Alan (with the funky carbon fibre helmet that doesn't seem to fit too well) headed back down the ridge at this point and came up a neighbouring snow slope to the summit. No doubt this was a sensible choice. Bill (with the green Lawrence-of-Arabia hat/scarf thing), Greg and I headed up the rock face after Jim. What's this all about if not a bit of a challenge?


© Greg Robinson 2004

Of course one has to take a moment to enjoy the view... so I did. Mt Ward is the dominant peak in the left of the photo. The Elcho valley lies below. This was to become another route for later in the week.

The rock pitch wasn't nearly as chossy as it looked and only a few "holds" needed to be held on the mountain as we ascended. Before long all eight of us were spread across the summit eating a wide assortment of odds and ends (pita bread and tuna in the case of Greg and I) for lunch.


© Greg Robinson 2004

After allowing time to ponder the loss of our view (That's Jim looking pensive in the photo with Mt. Hooker's summit pyramid in the center background and the South Elcho valley below.) we chose to descend via the snow slope.

Stein skiied on ahead like a true Norwegian. The rest of us followed employing mostly (some seriously) worse technique to the rock. From here the usual knee-hammering descent took place to the forest below and onwards through the trees on the soft bed of fallen beech leaves. This was much easier on the knees (and the bum too if you should stumble - which I did as I cursed the underbrush).

Still being somewhat careful on account of my recent back injury, I must admit I crept down this part a little gingerly. Rather than taking the "bowling ball" approach to the forest descent I was a little more relaxed in my pace making as the others disappeared ahead.

Greg was waiting at the bottom of the forest with a bottle of stream water and a handshake. A gorgeous patch of about thirty green-hood orchids amongst the fern leaves also greeted me as the tents appeared just ahead.

So ended climb one ...if only my quads would have forgotten it so quickly!

New Zealand 2004 | About Animaland