Double Two, Double Seven (2277m)
With Greg on NZAC camp 2005 & Rob (not "officially" on NZAC camp 2005)

We travelled from Arthur's Pass via Christchurch for a food resupply and on to the Ahuriri Valley. Our rented (and not very large) car was completely chock-a-block full of gear, people (myself, Greg, Sophie and Nat) and food. A loaf of bread was crammed into the dashboard compartment beneath the CD player. A plastic boot sat in the console behind the handbrake. The spaces under the seats were full of rice and muesli bars. What a squeeze.
On arrival we quickly erected our tents in the drizzly valley as the NZAC New Year's Eve BBQ sizzled in the stream bed where some steak and sausage action was taking place. Who camped in the stream bed? Well most people actually. You'd think that after last year's floods folks would have opted for higher ground. Hmmm. During the BBQ it rained a little - not enough to dampen spirits, especially not those of the chap who did a most amusing rendition of the "Kea's Ballad" (or some such hilarious tale). The fireworks weren't dampened either and we were treated to a lovely display of rockets and sparks in the night sky. I went to bed well before midnight.

Next morning Greg and I stuffed our gear into our packs and headed up the valley in fine weather. Strangely the campsite was not in close range of any decent mountains and so we decided to head where we could climb directly from a base. We did the usual wandering along river beds and crossing streams. I have now become accustomed to wet feet. Mt. Huxley beckoned from the end of the valley.

After a few hours of trekking, a lunch stop in the sunshine, various photo-stops and a chat to Ross Cullen on a recce, Rob Laery welcomed us enthusiastically to our base for the next week: Hagen's Hut. He'd arrived the day before and had been busy collecting piles of firewood, making stone and timber chairs, cairns, and performing various hut renovations. Unfortunately he also had a bad leg.

In case you're wondering, the photo shows Rob (left) and Greg (avec beanie) rugged up to cheat the sandflies of their dinner. It wasn't really that cold. The smoke from the fireplace was a deliberate effort by Rob to make the place look more homely. Greg and Rob are both sitting on one of Rob's freshly made chairs.

Up at 5am. Greg and I followed a faint track up behind the hut into a hanging basin. Rob was going to stay at the hut and rest his leg. In the basin we sat on a rock beneath a snow slope and admired the lovely scenery. We did the "first climb of the summer fuffing around". Everything seemed OK. I had two crampons, two tools, a rope and both of my gloves. Greg had his own harness and not Sophie's. All was well in the world. It was shaping up to be a fine day for climbing.

As we sat on a rock, who should appear? (No prizes for guessing) A limping Rob Laery appeared from the bush. "It'll be fine" he tells us as he looks down at his swollen leg. Greg and I are less certain but there's no stopping a Rob when he has his mind on something. All three of us set off up the snow slope at the back of the cirque.

The scenery is gorgeous. The weather is spectacularly clear and here we are (my third New Zealand season in a row) at the base of a climb. Marvellous!

Below Left: Greg welcomes Rob to the hanging valley. Below Right: Greg and Rob start up the snow slope.

Its hard going, and the slope increases as we reach a convenient rock spit on which to sit in the now glorious sun and take a swig from the water bottles.

A couple of (dozen) rest stops later, a bit of crunchy rock underfoot and we are on the summit... of something.

Now where are we exactly? Greg carefully studied our photocopied and expertly plastic-covered map of the region to try to identify a few peaks (Image below left). Yes! We are on the summit of 2277m, a first ascent (actually, my first, first ascent).How can it be that nobody has climbed this before? Well you see the Dept. of Conservation only just bought the valley and opened it up as a National Park. Now there is one rich farmer more, and three (or more) happy climbers.

Mt Barth's north wall towered over us to the south. From here we could just make out some Barth summitters who have come up from Canyon Creek. They are in the photo (below right), but they are smaller than a pixel. Our view is stupendous in the clear air. Many of New Zealand's major peaks are layed out for us: Cook, Sefton, Aspiring.

This is quite the location for lunch. So we eat it.

After a lazy meal we head back down the slope (facing inwards). Two tools, one step, two step, left arm, right arm. Left arm, right foot, right arm left foot... on and on, and on. And on, and on, and on, and on. I am cooking out here on the white snow in the sun. On and on. I hate it how I can hear water running under the snow but my bottle is empty. I'm getting thirsty just sitting in my office writing this trip report. On and on and on and on. And finally we are down and I guzzle a drink from the meltwater stream. Up and out of the cirque we head then down to the hut for dinner.

Rob had ancient freeze-dried stuff which didn't look that appetizing. Greg and I consumed a packet each of pasta. Mmmm. Tasty.

Rob built more stone chairs and collected more firewood. He is a firewood and stone collecting machine. I washed the dishes and went to sleep to avoid the squillion sandflies.
For reference, here's a photograph of our route taken from the other side of the valley on a climb a couple of days later. (Roll over the image to see it without the route markings.) 2277m Route

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