Date: January 4 - 5, 2025
Location: Main Divide, Bonar Glacier, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand
Total Trip Distance: Bike - 11.48 mi / 18.47 km | Climb - 18.69 mi / 30.07 km
Total Elevation Gain: Bike - 1,037 ft / 316 m | Climb - 9, 631 ft / 2,936 m
Trip Duration: 2 days
Team: Solo
Rating: II, 10, 2
Field Notes: From French Ridge Hut, climb French Ridge to gain Quarterdeck Pass. Drop down to the Bonar Glacier, head east, and climb the Flight Deck to avoid gendarmes on the lower part of the ridge. Climb to 2,400 meters where the West Ridge is gained. Climb steeper terrain until a flat area is reached. The final climb is a 140 meter slab of grade 10 rock. There are plenty of solid cracks which allow for straightforward climbing. A rope could be useful for the descent.
My van rattled loudly as I drove up the West Matuktuki - again. How many times would I make the drive this season? I can't deny that climbing all of the mountains in this zone have turned into a goal of mine.
From the first time I ever came into the West Matukituki I knew this place was beyond special and I've wanted to deepen my relationship with it ever since. I can't think of anything more intimate than reaching all of its distinct high points.
Mount Avalanche is one of the mountains I've wanted to climb the most. From the road coming into Raspberry Flat, the East Peak and the Avalanche Glacier dominate the scene. From French Ridge, the West Ridge looks extremely imposing. It is a stunning mountain.
I knew the Quarterdeck was still in good shape and I had an excellent weather forecast, so I loaded up my gear and made the drive.
The road was rutted out so badly that my radio stopped working. My van is a loud van and when it shakes I subconsciously harbor the fear that it will just explode (even though it is in excellent mechanical condition).
Soon enough I was done rattling in the van and began rattling on my bike up to Aspiring Hut. Huffing and puffing I made it there in an hour. The weather was beautiful. A few wisps of cloud, a breeze blew down the valley, and sandflies bit at exposed skin.
I continued on foot, crossed the swing bridge at Pearl Flat, and began the climb up to French Ridge Hut. The first six hundred meters of the track are quite steep and I listened to Talking Heads to keep up the stoke. At 1,100 meters it levels out and I was grateful to just simply walk instead of scramble.
The hut was fully booked and I considered setting up my tarp. However, some extremely friendly tourists invited me inside and had no problem with me sleeping on the floor.
In the outdoor community in New Zealand, which is a lovely community, it is quite common to hear a lot of negative comments directed towards tourists. Most of these often complain that they overcrowd huts, campsites, walking tracks, etc. Some of these comments can be quite cynical.
I could write more on the hypocrisy of this subject another time, but the point I'll make for now is this: overwhelmingly, the kindest people I meet in the mountains are tourists.
At French Ridge, the interest the "tourists" took in my trip intentions, the climb, the gear, my life story, etc. made me miss life on the road. Travelers are naturally curious people. And to some degree, we are all tourists.
At four-thirty, my alarm went off. At five-fifteen, I woke up again and realized I had slept through my alarm. At five-thirty, I was out the door.
The Quarterdeck was in excellent condition. However, the wind was seriously strong and one gust actually blew me over. In my head, I already made the decision that I was not going to climb the exposed slabs on the West Ridge in these conditions. Because it was so early I decided to continue on to the base of the climb in hopes that the wind would abate.
Up and over the Quarterdeck, I descended the Bonar and headed east to climb the Flight Deck. I was happy with my decision to bring my ultralight 10 point crampons as anything more would be overkill for the low-angle snow terrain. About three hours since leaving the hut I was under the slabs on the West Ridge.
The wind was still howling. Clouds moved rapidly above my head. Fortunately, the wind was coming from the east, and the summit acted as a shield. Climb on!
Although the one-hundred-and-fifty-meter slab looked daunting, I found the climbing to be simple. There were huge cracks on the face that provided solid holds. I moved silently up the face, focusing on every detail. Towards the top, the rock quality deteriorated but the climbing became easier.
Finally, I stood alone atop the peak. The wind blew, clouds swirled, the sun beamed. I felt how lucky I was. My thoughts turned to my Grandmother. It was her funeral today and I knew my dad was grieving. I recorded a video for him and shed a few tears in the process. The mountains bring out every emotion.
Although I brought my sixty-meter RAD line, I never used it. I found down-climbing the slabs to be very straightforward. There is a lot of rappel tat on that mountain and I wouldn't trust any of it. I was happy to be back on solid ground on the Flight Deck and merrily made my back up to the Quarterdeck and down to French Ridge.
My legs were cooked by the time I reached the valley floor. It was stinking hot and I dreamed of my ritual cold plunge post-trip. Plus I knew I had a cold sparkling coconut water in my fridge at the van! Motivated by the end of temporary suffering, I hoofed it out of the valley, only to return again soon...
Happy Days...
Komentáre