THE APOGEE

Date:  December 31, 2024 Location: The Remarkables, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 4.88 mi / 7.85 km Total Elevation Gain: 2,395 ft / 730 m Trip Duration: 3 hours 36 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: A straightforward route with easy access from Wye Saddle. The upper sections offer fun scrambling on good rock. The South East gully provides an easy descent with bolted anchors for rappelling Rating:  II, 2 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Single Cone North East Ridge Route Topo The North East Ridge of Single Cone from Wye Saddle I woke up to beautiful weather in Queenstown and wanted to get into the hills. The Remarkables offer quick and easy access to alpine terrain and I had always wanted to do the scramble up the North East Ridge of Single Cone. I finished work early, loaded up my climbing gear, and drove the long and windy road to Remarkables ski field. While the weather in town was sunny and warm, at 1800 meters it was cool, windy, and cloudy. I threw an extra layer into my bag and set off. Summer access to Wye Saddle is super fast. I followed the established trail and within an hour I was at the base of the North East Ridge. The upper sections looked pretty steep and I was curious at their difficulty. The guidebook says, " the upper rock steps are steeper than they look."  If I were to rewrite the description, I might write, "The upper rock steps are easier than they look." I found the scrambling moderate, with great holds on solid rock. It was super refreshing to go on a climb where choss and scree were not constantly being dislodged from the mountain. At the summit, clouds circled in, obstructing my view. Fortunately, Henry and I had stood on this summit before when we had done a winter climb of the Grand Traverse in clear weather. I didn't stay on top for long and headed over to the South East gully for my descent. I inspected the rappel station, fixed my Petzl Rad Line to it, and rappelled down. With just two rappels I was back on solid ground and was able to quickly make my way back to the car. Only three and a half hours round trip car to car while not rushing in the slightest. This is an excellent half-day out on fun rock! Happy days...

Date:  December 27, 2024 Location: Richardson Mountains, Rees Valley Station, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 9.78 mi / 15.74 km Total Elevation Gain: 6,012 ft / 1,832 m Trip Duration: 7 hours 8 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: Start at the Invincible Mine Heli Pad and take the 4WD track uphill. At 760 meters, the track ends in a clearing. Turn to the north and look for a clearly defined sheep trail that heads through a tight scrub belt. The trail emerges from the scrub at 820 meters. Cross a small creek to the north and continue heading uphill towards McDougalls Spur. Enter the creek at 1,360 meters staying mainly on the true right. At 1,560 meters an obvious spur leads directly up to the basin below the summit where great camping can be found. Aim for the col between Stair Peak and Point 2149. Take the North Ridge to the summit. Make sure to get permission from Rees Valley Station: 03 442 9908 Rating:  I, 1+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Stair Peak Route Topo One of my favorite things about being in the mountains is developing an intimate relationship with a specific set of peaks. By spending time in one mountain range, you get to know the rock, animals, and climate that make it unique. You begin to figure out the optimal time to climb and ski. One learns the access routes, camping locations, and secret bivy's. And of course, you get to know the people. When I called the Rees Valley Station for permission to access the land near Invincible Mine, Iris (one of the landowners) was happy to hear my voice. Mike! It's great to hear from you again... A huge smile spread across my face. It was going to be another great trip. The Humboldt Mountains from the Rees Valley I woke at five-thirty in the morning to low cloud in the valley. Birds sang out and you could tell it was going to be a miracle of a day. I quickly made breakfast, a coffee, and set out. I took the 4WD track that starts on the true left of McDougalls Creek at the Invincible Mine Heli Pad. I hopped the gate and appreciated the gentle incline as a warm-up. At 760 meters, the track ends in a clearing. To the north, a clearly defined sheep trail leads up through tight scrub before emerging at a small creek. I crossed the creek and went uphill in an easterly direction. Like I've written so many times before, the morning was spectacular. Cloud hung in the valley while the Humboldt and Forbes Mountains towered above. Earnslaw is the eye-catcher, but I was drawn more to the remote summits of Mount Head and Moira Peak at the back of the Rees Valley. I continued uphill through open tussock country, appreciating the scrub-free travel. I was making excellent time and I felt light on my feet. Soon enough I was entering the creek south of McDougalls Spur with Stair Peak looming above. On the approach, I sidled forty meters above the creek. On the descent, I followed the creek. The latter is significantly easier. Prince of Wales Flat, The Flood Burn, and Mount Aurum from Stair Peak At 1,560 meters an obvious spur leads directly up into the basin below Stair Peak. I took this and continued to make fast travel. My ice axe and crampons were totally unnecessary today, but being so lightweight, I wasn't fussed. I climbed directly to the col between Point 2149 and Stair Peak. Three hours and thirty minutes after leaving the car I stood on the football field sized summit.  The views were not as dramatic as other summits along the Richardson's, such as Lapith Peak  or Stone Peak,  but I did appreciate the view into the Flood Burn and Mount Aurum. I took my summit photos, had a bite to eat, re-hydrated and went on my way. Travel was fast off the peak as I boot-skied down the scree. Stopping only for a quick drink in the fresh stream, I skipped my way back along the creek. Surprisingly, the descent took roughly the same amount of time as the ascent. As always I was happy to be back at my van for some fresh fruit and my ritual recovery protein shake to cap off a perfect summer day. Happy days...

Date:  April 20, 2024 Location: Harris Mountains, West Matukituki, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance (from Aspiring Hut):  12.37 mi / 19.9 km Total Elevation Gain (from Aspiring Hut) : 6,977 ft / 2,126 m Trip Duration (from Aspiring Hut): 8 hours 35 minutes Team:  With Henry Frakes Field Notes: The North East ridge of Tyndall is accessed by climbing the Cascade Saddle route from Aspiring Hut. There is water at 940 meters on the climb. From the Pylon, travel the easy ridge heading south towards the peak. Sidle below Point 2380 and aim directly for the North East ridge. Scramble loose rock to the summit. There are excellent campsites with reliable water sources along the ridge. Rating:  II, 1 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mount Tyndall Route Topo Authors Note: Below is my personal account of a light and fast attempt on Tyndall. Although a long day, the climb is straightforward and we simply chose the wrong route. The key is to avoid the glacier and instead aim for Point 2380, sidling below it on the West, then scrambling the North East ridge to the summit. It took until the end of the season to finally go on a mission with someone other than myself. I originally met Henry when I went to get a phone plan back in late spring. Oddly enough, I wanted a phone plan so I could make connections with other climbers and he was the person working there that day. Some things are too serendipitous. So we found ourselves meeting at the Raspberry Flat trailhead the night prior. Our plan was to start at 7 am and go light and fast - ticking off the summit in one day. I drove the gravel road to the trailhead, cooked dinner, packed, and went to bed.  I woke up in the middle of the night to loud music and a car spinning out in the parking lot. Five minutes later the truck returned and out popped a local Kiwi farmer-looking guy, likely in his early twenties. It was two in the morning. He began knocking on cars, waking people up, and asking them where "Aspiring Hut was." After seeing him wake up the third group of people, I walked up to him and asked what he was doing. After a minute or two standoff in which I think he was surprised that a guy bigger than him with his shirt off was confronting him, he got back in the truck. They never returned. It was odd to have this experience out here, but I suppose anything can happen when alcohol is involved. A few cups of coffee later, Henry and I set off at quarter after seven. The morning was very cold, very crisp, and very beautiful. Because I've vowed never to walk the approach up the West Matukituki ever again, I biked. Henry, without a bike, ran. Somehow we arrived at Aspiring Hut at the same time. The bike was stashed, we drank some water and began our climb. The route to the pylon at the top of Cascade Saddle climbs 1,370 meters in a very short distance. I think we were both feeling excellent this morning because we reached the top in two hours twenty. I could tell already that Henry was very fit. We refueled and kept our face towards Tyndall. Mount Tyndall is one of those peaks that never seems to get any closer. Then, as if we were propelled forward by some imaginary force, it felt right in front of us. We were about 250 meters from the summit. All we had to do was cross a short glacier, climb the ridge, and reach the summit. As we were walking across the glacier, suddenly, Henry broke through a crevasse up to his knee. Whoa. We both stopped and expressed our surprise. I think we were both totally locked into "crushing it" mode that we never stopped to evaluate that we were on a glacier that we've never been on without crevasse rescue gear. Not even five minutes later the snow gave away under my left foot and I broke through a crevasse, scraping my leg on the icy lip, blooding my leg. Now we were awake. I quickly bandaged my leg and we retraced our steps back to solid rock and decided to talk things over. The issue was not that there was a glacier or that the climb was dangerous. Tyndall, by mountaineering standards, is on the easy end of the spectrum. A scramble at best. The glacier is traversed typically without glacier gear. The issue was that there had been recent snowfall over the last week and it had covered the crevasses, making it extremely difficult to tell where they were. We chose the wrong route across the glacier and should've climbed the rock rib to our left. For perspective, I had climbed Mount Liverpool a month and a half ago . On that trip, the first peak one ascends is Plunket Dome. and it was very crevassed. Today, it looked like a snow field. If one had never seen it before, you wouldn't think crevasses were ever there. Henry retreating back to Cascade Saddle. Barff, Aspiring, and Rob Roy on the horizon. Then we heard the sound of a helicopter. In some sort of joke, the helicopter flew over the ridge and landed directly on the glacier. A group of tourists jumped out of the helicopter, walked around the glacier, jumped back in, and left. We couldn't believe it. In hindsight it was very obvious... we simply chose the wrong route. We should have stayed high, avoided the glacier, and scrambled up the North East Ridge to the summit. Thankfully we laughed it off and decided to pack it in for the day. We made quick work of the descent and headed back towards our vehicles. Even though we didn't reach the summit on this particular trip, it was still a fantastic day out. It was epic to finally have a partner to go on a mission with. Henry is a guy that I can grow in the mountains with. Happy days...

Date:  February 13 - 14, 2015 Location: Main Divide, West Matukituki, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 25.48 mi / 41 km Total Elevation Gain: 8,769 ft / 2,673 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Sam Gallup Field Notes: The South East Ridge a fantastic climb and Liverpool Hut makes a convenient base. The key to this summit is route finding and it pays to be dialed in. Do not follow the ridge from the hut. Instead, begin traversing West towards Arawhata Saddle. Cross a creek and then start climbing up a small bump. After roughly sixty meters, sidle northwest into a gully that leads up to slabs and the glacier. Follow the South East ridge directly up. The crux is a steep slope that tops out less than a hundred meters from the summit. Sidle around the North side of the peak and scramble to the summit from the West. Rating:  III, 2 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mount Barff South East Ridge Route Topo Authors Note: This is a trip report from 2015 when I first began my mountaineering journey. It was a powerful experience that I wanted to write about. Please note the beta provided is relevant and up to date. It has almost been ten years since my friend Sam and I climbed Mount Barff. Since then I have climbed and explored the world, but this remains one of the most memorable trips of my life. I think a lot has changed with mountaineering in New Zealand in that ten years. When I first arrived here in 2014/2015, it seemed like the mountaineering community was non-existent and huts were still empty. I remember hiking up to Brewster Hut  in the middle of summer to climb Mount Armstrong and I had the entire hut to myself. Another memory of climbing Mount French that same summer with one other person in the hut.  When I showed up here ten years ago information was very hard to come by and you could feel just how wild the Southern Alps were (and they still are wild ). I originally found Mount Barff because of the fantastic write up from Danillo Hegg.  Convinced this climb was within our capabilities, we packed our gear and drove to Raspberry Flat. Sam at Shovel Flat. Mount Barff is just visible at the upper left of the photo. It was a stinking hot summer day as we walked up the West Matuktuki. Although not the hottest place in the world, the sun here is brutally strong. We walked past the stunning Rob Roy Glacier, past livestock, and approached Aspiring Hut for a break. Out of the bushes came the hut warden, brushing himself off as he had been lying on the ground. I'm searching for Kiwis! Did you spot any? Yeah, two little ones! He walked closer and examined our gear as he inquired about our destination. His eyes ravished our new Mammut Infinity 9.5mm dry-treated rope and began to caress it like a woman that had stolen his heart. Wow....an amazing rope... That hut warden, God bless him, was an example of what it's like to be fully immersed and fully alive. With newfound energy, we continued up the valley to Shovel Flat, onwards to Pearl Flat, and then eventually up the steep track to Liverpool Hut. Drenched by sweat we offloaded our gear and looked up towards Barff, immediately intimidated. Mount Barff from Liverpool Hut A few other tourists began to arrive at the hut and were taken aback by the ice axes and rope. What are you guys going to do with that? We pointed upwards towards Barff. Are you serious? Are you afraid of dying? I puffed out my chest as best I could and casually said we got this. Truth be told I was shitting my pants. Barff looked pretty ugly at this time of the year. The glacier was a minefield of crevasses. We spent the afternoon relaxing and enjoying the scenery. The hut is placed in a commanding location with views of the West Face of Rob Roy and the North Ridge of Mount Liverpool.  Sam and I used the remaining daylight to scout out the access route to the South East Ridge which would prove to be an excellent decision. I can't remember the time exactly, but our alarms went off very early in the morning. We quickly grabbed our gear and made our way out the door. Just before leaving, someone from the hut whispered to us good luck! I still laugh every time I think of our experience there. The tourists in the hut were more nervous than we were! With headlamps on we followed the route we had scouted the day prior. We climbed the gully that led up to the glacier where we took out crampons and ice axes. The day was gorgeous and there was not a breath of wind. I could feel the wildness of the Southern Alps in my bones. We climbed the South East ridge until crevasses forced us to take the rope out. Crevasses on Mount Barff Near the top of the ridge, the pitch steepened significantly. My stomach dropped. Sam was visibly nervous. I elected to lead the crux pitch and took out my second tool. Except it wasn't even my tool, but from a friend who let me borrow it! We hammered in a snow stake and set up a belay station for Sam. I lead out. A fall to my left would send me tumbling toward massive crevasses on the South Face. A fall to my right would be over bluffs. My heart was pounding. I focused on my tool placements and remembered right towards the top of the pitch thinking, we got this. At the top, I stood up and shouted for joy. I was twenty-two years old and it was the most radical thing I had ever done. At that exact moment, the sun rose above the Bonar Glacier and illuminated the entire mountain in golden light. It was a moment, a memory, etched forever into my soul. Topping out on the South East Ridge of Mount Barff Sam followed shortly and we embraced at the top of the pitch. We sidled around the north side of the mountain and easily scrambled up Barff from the West. The summit was a mix of feelings. For one, we were stoked. But even more so we were just plain scared. This climb had been a big undertaking and honestly, we didn't have the skills to be up here, and we knew it. We didn't stay on the summit for long and were nervous about the down climb of the crux pitch. I belayed Sam down and, with heart in mouth, followed. I can still remember the feeling of relief after getting down from the ridge. Like a shirt that has been wringed of water. A few hours later we arrived back at the hut, totally exhausted. Climbing back towards Liverpool Hut after a successful summit of Mount Barff After a nap, food, and water we knew we had to go. The hike out was going to suck and we had no idea that you could bike to Aspiring Hut. Lesson learned! I vividly remember the pain in my feet as we walked, hobbled, and limped down the track. At Aspiring Hut, we sought out the warden to let him know of our successful climb. How'd you boys go? We did it! It was epic! Nicely done! You should've seen the look on all of the tourist's faces. One by one they stopped through the hut to tell me two madmen were going to die on Mount Barff! What? Are you serious? What did you say? I told them to relax. Once I saw the rope you guys were carrying, I knew you'd be okay... Man, that hut warden. What a complete legend. Sam and I laughed our asses off as we hobbled back to the car. What's even funnier is our friend Alex had been waiting for us at the car for over five hours. He was on his own mission up the valley and since we all shared the car, we organized a meet-up time. We told him we would be back by early afternoon but instead, we got back in the evening. While he was waiting he went from being concerned, to pissed off, to maybe concerned again, to just straight angry. Because we had the keys, some guy in the parking lot felt bad for him and he wound up giving him a beer! I can still look back on this trip over a decade later with a huge smile on my face and I hope it inspires you to find your way to the summit of Mount Barff. Happy days...

Date:  January 21, 2024 Location: Harris Mountains, West Matukituki, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  8.9 mi / 14.3 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,619 ft / 1,712 m Trip Duration: 6 hours 30 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: This is a fantastic climb straight out of the parking lot with stunning views from the summit. The approach follows the central spur leading directly to the col between Sharks Tooth and Craigroyston. The summit is gained by climbing the south west ridge. The final thirty meters has quite a bit of exposure and is no fall terrain. I would bring a rope in winter / early spring. Rating:  I, 2 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Sharks Tooth Peak Route Topo Back in 2014 my friend Sam and I attempted to climb Sharks Tooth Peak. We had very little mountain experience at the time and it felt like a big undertaking. To be fair, there has been a big increase in climbing beta over the last ten years in the Southern Alps, increasing the odds of a successful ascent. That day, we chose the wrong ridge in the dark and found ourselves in some very steep terrain. We pretty much just gave up because we were scared. I still don't know how we successfully climb Mount Barff that season. A grade 2 miracle! Those days were filled with adventure. On this day, it was one of the most straightforward ascents of my life. I drove into Gods land - the West Matukituki. Funny enough, at the final stream crossing I ran into my friend Lisa and gave her a ride to the trailhead. We caught up for a bit while I packed my things, covered my face in zinc, and eventually set off to climb the peak. Sharks Tooth is simply stunning from the parking lot. I crossed over farm land and took the obvious spur leading up to the col between Sharks Tooth and Craigroyston. Travel was fast and easy with a light pack and a light wind to keep the heat at bay. As a climbed higher I ran into an obvious trail that took me straight up the mountain. I ran into two climbers heading down the peak but didn't stop to chat for long as I was in total flow. The views were simply incredible and Rob Roy, which I am convinced is a God, dominated the scene. This is my favorite mountain in the West Matukituki and I am very keen to climb the West Face in spring. Rob Roy Peak Once at the col the wind jacked up and I threw on my Patagonia Houdini. I continued to follow the solid climbers trail to the base of Sharks Tooth. It looked quite steep! I ditched my poles and threw on my helmet, working my way up the obvious ridge on the climbers right. The climbing was low angle at first until the final fifty meters or so. From here, the climbing was easy but with tons of exposure. A fall would be disastrous. About twenty meters from the top, I decided to sidle around to the southerly side of the mountain where I found a very exposed ledge system that would lead me to the summit. The exposure had my heart in my mouth but again, the climbing was straightforward. I crossed the ledge and found easy rock that took me to the top of the peak. Happy days. Powerful scenes - Rob Roy Peak above Raspberry Flat The views from the summit were incredible. Better yet, three Kea's swooped in and shared the summit with me - the first Kea I had seen since I returned to New Zealand in October. I took a long thirty minute break and soaked in the West Matukituki and everything it had to offer. In front of my eyes lay Rob Roy, Fog Peak, Craigroyston, Liverpool, Barff, Dragonfly, and even the peaks of the Upper Volta Glacier. Magic land. As with every summit one eventually does have to tear themselves away. Care was taken off the peak and soon enough I was collecting my poles at the base of the climb and the helmet came off. A few hours later I was back at the car where an Indian curry awaited me in Wanaka - but not before the ritual cold plunge. Happy days...

Date:  November 17, 2024 Location: Harris Mountains, West Matukituki, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 7.16 mi / 11.52 km Total Elevation Gain: 6,209 ft / 1,892 m Trip Duration: 9 hours Team:  Rob Fraser Field Notes: This is a relentlessly steep mountain. Start as Raspberry Flat car park, hop the fence and walk across a brief section of farm land. Head directly up through bluffs, aiming to join the North West Ridge at 1,200 meters. Follow the ridge, sidling obstacles as they arise. An alternate option would be climbing the terrain just off the ridge to the West. Continue following the ridge higher up until a few hundred meters below the top. It is not necessary to cross the nasty gut. Pick any convenient line that joins the West Ridge to the summit. This peak would best be climbed in early season with snow. Rating:  I, 1+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Craigroyston Peak, North West Ridge Route Topo The route through the bluffs to gain the North West Ridge of Craigroyston Rob and I arrived at the parking lot the day prior to scout out conditions. We had originally intended to ski Craigroyston, but as we drove up the West Matukituki it seemed unlikely. I can't believe how quickly the snow was melting. We made a quick dinner and headed up the valley to get a better view of the upper mountain conditions. We were definitely not skiing. With neither of us packing mountaineering boots Rob came up with the brilliant idea of chucking our ski boots in our backpacks and using them once we hit snow. Problem solved. We packed it in early and set our alarms for just after five. The North West Ridge of Craigroyston Peak Besides a sheep yelling outside of the van, we slept peacefully. The morning was cold and we were off at six. We appreciated how direct the route was, however, the terrain was brutally steep. My legs didn't feel fully recovered from my trip earlier in the week in the Richardson Mountains and it was going to be a long day. Two hours in and we gained the ridge at 1,200 meters. From here we followed the North West ridge steeply up, sidling obstacles as they arose. The views were sensational as always and it felt great to have a super fit partner with a great attitude on this trip. We climbed higher and got our first view of the summit at 1,900 meters. There was plenty of snow now and we were stoked to take out the sharp stuff. Crampons on and ice axes out we traversed slightly below the ridgeline and worked our way to the obvious snow ramp that lead up to the summit ridge. The climbing was easy and straightforward. Snow conditions were excellent. Rob is a fit dude with a background in mountain / ultra running. I'd like to think I'm also pretty mountain fit as well. Today, we were huffing and puffing like cigarette smokers! Finally, about five hours in we reached the top. Happy days. The views were as expected - incredible. It was cool to look along the true right of the valley and look at the other peaks I've been fortunate to summit - Fog Peak, Sharks Tooth, Liverpool, Barff. The next phase is to climb the major summits on the true left! Rob following the West Ridge to the summit of Craigroyston Peak We allowed ourselves ten minutes on the top before our descent. The snow was warming and it wasn't necessary to stay for long. We shot a few pictures and videos and began the descent. I'll save the details, but it was a leg burner and our quads were screaming by the time we reached the van. Thankfully, I packed a few cold juices and we headed straight to the West Matukituki for a cold plunge. Happy days... Rob heading down after a successful summit of Craigroyston Peak

Date:  December 19 - 23, 2023 Location: Toaroha Range, Canterbury Westland Alps, Hokitika, West Coast, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  31.5 mi / 50 km Total Elevation Gain : 10,417 ft / 3,175 m Trip Duration: 5 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: A stunning trip into the rugged and remote mountains of the West Coast. Trails here are rough and I moved significantly slower than I normally do. Expect constant ups and downs if following riverbeds and be extremely careful in heavy rain. Travel to gain the ridge-lines is borderline bushwhacking - and the forests here are thick. I saw three people in 5 days and had only 1 day of rain! One of the most magical trips of my life. Rating: Hiking / tramping, off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location “Why’d you come out?” I sat around a $100,000+ RV set up with a mug I bought at a second hand store decorated with cats, filled with sleepy time tea. I stumbled with my answer… ”I don’t know…” I pulled into the free camping spot when two legendary Kiwi’s, Buck and Adam, showed up with their family entourage. Adam probably felt bad for me that I was sitting in my soaking wet tent so he invited me over. I was introduced to everyone, however Buck stood out. He was Kiwi, well traveled, loved women, hunting, drinking beer, and teaching his son to get up when he got knocked down in rugby. A man in every sense of the word. Fucking legend. I was trying to explain my trip across the Toaroha Range when he asked me point blank - “why did you come out?” I honestly have no clue. Even as I write this I'm sitting next to a roaring fire above a babbling brook in Mount Aurum. Tomorrow I walk out. Why am I going out when I want to go IN? This is the duality of life. One naturally creates the other. Toaroha Range from Genoa Peak On day one I walked in to Cedar Flat hut. There were only a few cars in the lot and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to see many folks on this one. I’d dreamed about the West Coast for years. Rough mountains and foul weather. It seemed only by the grace of God that one got sunshine here. Lo and behold a perfect forecast struck the West Coast and I drove the six hours to Hokitika. I knew I was going to be in for a good one when I arrived at Cedar Flat hut under the cover of darkness and stumbled into a kiwi brushing his teeth. His accent was thick - no doubt a country boy. He showed me around the hut only to tell me he’s got a rifle on the top bunk and that I shouldn’t be spooked. No worries I told him, fire away . Are you hunting? No, he told me. Are you training? No, he told me. Beats me I thought to myself and went outside to cook dinner under the stars. That night I slept very deeply. On day two I took my damn time. It was a glorious morning. Absolutely bluebird without a cloud. A Polish couple were the only other people in the hut and they told me the hot springs nearby were some of the best they’ve ever been to - and hot springs are their life passion. What are the odds? I hiked the fifteen minutes to the hot springs and I can confirm that it was a borderline religious experience. The hot springs sat on the edge of a freezing cold mountain river. And the hot springs were HOT. I spent about an hour doing multiple rounds of hot cold therapy, all alone, on a perfect bluebird morning on the west coast. Holy shit. At eleven I pulled myself from the hut and figured I should start moving. As I worked up the Toaroha River I realized travel in this neck of the woods was going to be very, very slow. The trails out here are the roughest I’ve ever seen. My original goal was to get to Toaroha Saddle but after three hours of non-stop up and down along a riverbed, I decided to change my plans and I am so glad that I did. First off, it was going to take me a solid seven hours of very hard travel to get to the saddle. This would mean days three and four would be very big days, and I didn't want to be up on the ridge in poor conditions in an area I don't know. I knew rain was coming, and I wanted to get on the tops and experience the ridges in good weather. I decided to take a left and head up to Crystal Biv. This decision was the turning point in the trip. After a borderline bushwhack for an hour and a half I broke treeline and reached the Biv. The views were absolutely stunning. The Diedrechs Range behind me and the Toaroha Range looming above. The Biv was nestled into the shrub like a baby tucked into a cradle. It felt wild to be up here. I wandered down to the tarn and took an amazing skinny dip. The forecast for tomorrow was calling for perfection and I couldn’t wait to get to the tops. That night I slept like a log. Nine hours later I woke to the sound of chirping birds. I looked out the window and my eyes locked on blue sky. I ripped open the door to perfect conditions. I was like a kid on Christmas and made no delay - it was time to get going! Sunrise at Crystal Biv I climbed up through snow grass and into the cloud layer that had blanketed the ridgeline while I was getting ready. This was just an inversion layer and waited patiently to break through. At 1400 meters I finally climbed above the cloud layer and got my first few of the Toaroha Range - wow. Golden light covered the deep green ridglines and baked the clouds. It was a magical sight. I continued to climb higher, sidling gendarmes along the ridge by negotiating steep scrub. Travel continued to be slow and challenging , and I finally reached my first high point at Point 1694. The sun was screaming hot and I was melting. After a thirty minute break I sank back into the clouds and finally reached Zit Saddle, roughly 4 hours into the day. I had a very long way to go and kept moving. I found a tarn below Mount Reeves, refilled my water, broke above the clouds again, and stood atop the high point of my trip. Mountains surrounded me in all directions and I was all alone. The feeling was special. I took another long break before descending to the col below Point 1618. It got quite steep along the ridge that required a down climb to the climbers right to bypass. Travel from here to Genoa Peak was arguably the most stunning of the whole day. I was entirely above the clouds, watching the inversion layer pour over the mountains into the Toaroha Valley. To the right, the snow capped peaks of Arthur’s Pass loomed on the skyline. In front of me, Genoa Peak and The Pinnacle looked wild and rugged. In what felt like Arabian desert heat I continued on. I debated skipping Genoa Peak but remembered the conversation I had with myself earlier… “you will want to skip this peak but you will regret it!” So I began my final ascent of the day. I was feeling quite shitty from the heat when I crested a hill and ran into a beautiful alpine tarn. “OH MY GOD!” I stripped off all my clothes and dove right in. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud - what a mystery life is! Tarn below Genoa Peak Totally recharged I sprinted to the top of the peak and with misty eyes rejoiced at the magic of life. I felt so grateful to be up here. I could see Pinnacle Biv in the valley below, my home for the night. It took me about an hour or so of frustrating terrain to reach the hut. Because Crinkle Top (I can’t believe this is even considered a mountain) lay just fifty meters from the hut I dropped my pack and ran to the top. Finally, nine hours later, I arrived at the Biv. And what a place it was - above a sea of clouds staring at the mountains of Arthur’s Pass. This day will remain as one of the top days I’ve ever had in the hills. Stunner - Pinnacle Biv On day four I decided to have a casual day and wander down to Boo Boo Hut. It was a rainy day and the hut had a wood burner, so why not spend an extra day relaxing and enjoying the warmth of the fire? It took rough two hours to reach the hut. I spent the day chopping wood, cleaning up the hut, reading, and doing cold plunges in the natural pool nearby. It was dead silent besides the sounds of local birds, falling rain, and the occasional wind blowing about the trees. This time of stillness gave me a much needed break from the constant doings of life. The rain had lifted a bit on the morning of day five. I took a final cold plunge in the pool, packed my bag and made the walk out. I was filled with passion and fire for life. That feeling of completing a spectacular trip in the wild recharges the soul like nothing else! I walked non-stop for four hours to reach my vehicle, passing through spectacular forest and deep gorges. The West Coast of New Zealand is one of those places in the world that will forever live untamed, wild, raw, and spectacular. I feel very fortunate to be able to complete such a trip in good weather. Happy days... Note: for more detailed information on West Coast huts and routes, visit: https://www.remotehuts.co.nz/

Date:  Nov. 30 - Dec. 1, 2023 Location: Humboldt Mountains, Mount Aspiring National Park, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  21.22 mi / 34.15 km Total Elevation Gain : 4,871 ft / 1,484 m Trip Duration: 2 Days Team:  Solo Field Notes: Poor snow and route conditions turned me around 450 meters from the summit. The Somnus Couloir is best climbed in September to early November with stable snow conditions. I was a few weeks too late. The couloir is never that steep but has much objective hazard (described below). Easy access can be had by staying at Hobbs Bivy, a 3.5 hour walk from the Routeburn Shelter. Rating:  I, 2 Download GPX File Google Maps Location It's crazy to think that less than a week ago I was climbing Mount Barth. It almost felt too quick to pack up the bags again for another mission, but when the weather is good here in New Zealand you have to go for it. My plan was to climb Somnus via the Somnus Couloir; an 800 meter chute in the heart of the North Routeburn. The mighty Somnus Couloir The day before leaving I got a text from a new potential climbing partner, Henry, about doing the southwest face of Brewster - another dream climb. I've been wanting to do a mission with Henry because he has a ton of experience (way more than me) and seems like a good dude. Unfortunately when I woke up the next morning he was unable to get work off, so I switched back to my original plan of climbing Somnus. I made the two and a half hour drive to Glenorchy, shouldered my pack and started down the trail. Within five minutes I ran into my old friend Tsukasa. I blurted out "oh my God! Tsukasa!" He looked like he saw a ghost. Only 48 hours ago we were sharing a beer together to catch up as we hadn't seen each other in nine years. Now twice in two days. A great start to the trip. The Routeburn track is quite famous and for obvious reasons, it is simply stunning. The forests are almost spiritual. Not even almost, they are spiritual. I arrived at Routeburn Flats not feeling entirely optimistic. It was really, really warm and when I looked up high I couldn't see any snow. At this moment I thought about diverting my plans to climb Xenicus but decided this was my only chance in the season to climb Somnus. Routeburn Flats Hut I spoke to the hut warden to see if she knew anything about conditions and she told me that a party had successfully climbed the peak one week ago, but since then it had gotten really hot. She also said she climbed Xenicus today and that it looked like a bergschrund had opened up in the middle of couloir, but she couldn't be 100% sure. I sat at the creek and weighed my options. Ultimately, I had to take a look. When I reached Hobbs Bivy I was greeted by one thousand bugs. I was really glad I chose to wear long clothing! I collected some firewood and got a nice fire going - always a treat in the mountains. I went down to the river to soak my feet and have a look at the route. At first impression it didn't look great. I could see three different places where a bergschrund had opened up. Cloud had funneled into the couloir making it difficult to appropriately assess conditions. Ultimately, the only way to truly know something is to experience it. I headed back up to camp and went to sleep. I woke up at 2 am, packed my stuff, made a coffee, and got underway. It was warm. Another red flag. At this point I felt that the odds of the route being in condition were slim. I climbed up into the couloir and felt the snow. It was soaked. Isothermic. Damn. I kept climbed climbing because I wanted to see if the snow became firmer with elevation. I wasn't concerned about getting avalanched at this point, I was concerned about the icy walls that lay about the couloir. I made good time and kept climbing higher when I reached my first obstacle - a bergschrund lay in front of me that required a climbing move (except it was soft snow and not ice). It was a 4 foot vertical step and the crack below would likely be fatal if I fell into it. I felt fine, made the move and climbed on. Higher I reached a second schrund. This was actually sketchier because I had to trust a snow bridge that I had almost no trust in. This was a deep fucking hole. I worked my way across the snow bridge and climbed higher. At this point I stopped and had to have a conversation with myself. The first schrund was not too bad and the risk of falling into the hole was extremely, extremely low because of the way it was angled. The second shrund I relied on fate, luck, or chance. Without a partner and without a rope and with overly warm conditions it was an extremely risky move. I told myself that if I got to a third major obstacle I would turn around. Ten minutes later I reached the third and final schrund that I spied from the valley yesterday. It required crossing another snow bridge. It was a no brainer and I made a deal with myself already. The risk was too much at this point and I turned around. Intuitively, it never felt right anyways. I know that I could've crossed that third schrund, bagged the summit, and got back to the car in one piece...but at what cost? The thing is, when you start taking big risks in the mountains and you get away with it, it fucks you. It fucks you because if you do that enough you will think it's skill. When I looked into the shrund and saw a bottomless pit, I can not think of a worse way to die or get severely injured. No thanks! As I was near the bottom of the couloir I head a gunshot above me. I actually almost tripped at the sound it was so loud. I turned around and saw a massive ice fall smash into the couloir near where I was climbing just twenty minutes ago. Wow. Bailing on Somnus, Mount Erebus above It felt really nice to be in the valley again out of harms way. I was proud of myself for making the safe decision to turn around. Timing in the mountains is everything and this time the timing was not right. I was a bit gutted to see the summit of Somnus soaring above the clouds though...oh what a lofty summit it is! As I walked out of the North Routeburn an elderly lady came around the corner. "SOMNUS!!!" she squawked. She painted a huge smile on my face. I shared the story of my adventure, the bergschrunds, the shitty snow, and my philosophies on life and death. She said she had a camera and was trying to get a shot of me summiting the peak as the ranger told her I was out here. Oh what a world we live in! She had a captivating energy about her and listened with great interest. Come to find out, she had used to be the hut warden many moons ago in the Routeburn. "Oh well, it'll be here next time," she said. "Come on, go get your coffee in Glenorchy!" So I went and got a coffee in Glenorchy :) Happy days... Stunning Somnus, North Branch of the Routeburn

Date:  November 24 - 25, 2023 Location: Huxley Range, Ahuriri Valley, Ohau Landsborough, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  23 mi | 37 km Total Elevation Gain : 6,950 ft | 2,118 m Trip Duration: 2 Days Team:  Solo Field Notes: An excellent grade 2 climb with easy access from the Ahuriri Valley. There are multiple bivy rocks in Canyon Creek so leave your tent at home. I climbed a variation of the south face to the east ridge where it maxs out at 48-49 degrees. An alternate (and potentially faster) descent route would be directly down the south face proper which would generally require a rappel over the berschrund. Seasonal conditions will dictate a lot on this climb. Rating:  II, 2+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location I've never slept well the night before an alpine climb. Why would this time be any different? The wind had finally died off and left me alone to face a God that has existed before my family's family had been here, and will be here well beyond whatever bloodline I leave behind. I decided to pull myself from the warmth of my sleeping bag, climb out of the bivy rock and take one last look at it. The moon was almost full and the sky clear, and the mountain was lit up perfectly. "Oh my god..." I muttered to myself. What a mountain. The beautiful Mount Barth Mount Barth stands at 2,456 meters and completely dominates Canyon Creek. The access is relatively straightforward. On Friday I left Lake Hawea and drove over Lindis pass until taking a left towards Birchwood. I've never been up the Ahuriri Valley before. A sealed gravel road follows the valley north while huge mountains dot the skyline. After thirty minutes of driving, the 2wd road ends at Birchwood Station and becomes a 4wd road. If your car does not have clearance, you will for sure destroy it. And biking to the trailhead doesn't seem worth it unless you have an extra day. Makes sense to get a 4wd for this one. I reached the trailhead parking and didn't waste any time, I was ready to go. The weather was clearing as predicted and I felt very optimistic about this climb. Typically my intuition before a trip tells me a lot. Note: it's not a feeling of "positivity" or "excitement" (which is how I used to make decisions), but rather a feeling of alignment between myself (physically, mentally, emotionally, my skills) and the mountain (weather, snowpack, route conditions, etc.). One thing I am also constantly telling myself is that truly, the summit does not matter. I am an unchanged person regardless of wether I summit or not. For climbers, this is hard to accept. But when has a summit changed me? I have summited close to 150 peaks in my life and the glow, the thrill, the euphoria of every single summit has always worn off - leaving me to want another one. Just like a drug addict. Does this mean I should not climb because I'm an addict? No, because this is the nature of the mind. The mind is a drug addict . It craves. For me, it is simply the awareness of this. I will go on spending time in the mountains because it is something I love in its purity, but I will not be fooled into thinking a summit means more than it is. The track up Canyon Creek is a beauty, but not necessarily straightforward. There was quite a bit of blown down on the track and I had to oscillate between the river and the track. It took me four hours to reach the bivy rock and it did not disappoint. It as completely flat and someone had laid down straw which keeps dirt off belongings and such. The views of Mount Barth were simply incredible. I soaked my feet in the nearby river and prepared dinner. My plan was to be up very early and beat the heat. The forecast for Saturday was meant to be very hot and I didn't want to be up on that mountain while it was heating up. My alarm woke me at 3 am. I think I slept for a total of one hour. The excitement of the climb was too much and no amount of box breathing could get my nervous system to totally relax. The wind had died off around midnight and it was cold. From camp the route looked to be in absolutely perfect condition and I had visualized it one hundred times. I couldn't wait to go climb it. I made a quick coffee and set off at 3:45. What a gift to walk towards the heavens under starry skies. I crossed the glacial fed creeks and picked my way up through the tussock on the climbers right hand side of the valley which provided easy access to the snow slopes above. I donned crampons and an axe and climbed towards the sharks fin looking rock which gave access to the glacier. The snow was perfect. My confidence rose. At this point I had already climbed 650 meters in elevation and was moving well. I traversed across the glacier until I met my route up the south face. I wasted no time and zig-zagged up the slope. As I neared the choke on my route, things steepened and I took out my second tool. When I got to the choke (which I thought was going to be the crux), I realized that just above it actually got slightly steeper. My pulse quickened and a flash of anxiety swept across me. I locked in on my tools and body movements. One, two, three, four... Above the choke the route traverses up and climbers left above a set of cliff bands, where a fall would be impossible to stop and death likely. I measured the slope at 48-49 degrees which is quite steep. Again, I brought my attention back to my tools and body movements. The sound of my tools and crampons making contact with the perfect snow sent me into a hypnotic state. I was fully immersed in the moment, realizing my mortality but also in a state of calm clarity. A connection between body, mountain, and soul. As I topped out on the south face I stepped into the sun on the east ridge. I allowed myself a moment of pleasure and kept moving. The mighty Southern Alps The route follows the east ridge until a necessary traverse back across the south face to gain the summit. This was the second crux of the route. I laid into the face with my tools in the dagger position, focused obsessively on each individual movement. A quick look down reminded me that a fall would be quite bad. Sidling across steep exposed slopes on the south face to gain the summit I kept traversing until I topped out above the couloir on the true south face route. The summit was right there! The wind had picked up significantly and it got very cold very fast. I angled up and to the left, taking my final steps to the top of the peak. Three hours and forty minutes since leaving camp and I was on the summit of Mount Barth. I put on mittens with hand warmers on the inside, a buff, and my puffy jacket. The wind was absolutely ripping and there was not going to be a summit party. I knew my route back across the face was going to be just as precarious as on the way up and I didn't allow myself to turn off. I snapped a few photos, sat on the cold snow, and tried to soak in the moment. The summit of Mount Barth - an ocean of peaks After fifteen cold minutes on the peak it was time to go. I took the same route back down, although I was very tempted to go straight down the south face. Before the climb I told myself this would happen. You would summit and want a quick exit off the peak. However, there was too much risk for me to cross that berschrund solo. Only a tired mind can trick you into going against your plan. I stuck to my guns and made my way safely off the peak. Back at the bivy rock I finally allowed for a short celebration. I still felt as if I was in a dream. Was it the fact I had only gotten one hour of sleep? I'm unsure, but I felt so calm. Not necessarily overjoyed or overly emotional like in years past, but rather that all is well. Everything about this trip had gone perfectly. I came to realize in that moment that this was just an experience, like all experiences, and it was neither good nor bad, but rather just another chapter of this mysterious thing called life. I enjoyed every drop of it, allowing it to wash over me without trying to preserve or hold onto it. That is freedom - for at one minute to hold it so deeply in the palm of your hand and the next to throw it to the wind. I found a pool of cold glacial fed water near camp, so I stripped naked and submerged myself. The cold breathed new life into me. It was shockingly cold. I sat on a patch of grass and allowed the sun to dry my naked body. It was time to go. I packed up my belongings, shouldered my pack and began the walk out. It took four hours to reach the car and I enjoyed meeting people on my hike out, hearing about the different destinations people would visit in the valley. I couldn't help but stop every few minutes to turn and look back. There it stood, like a lighthouse on a wild coast. Towering, majestic, perfect. Mount Barth. Happy days...

Date:  November 17 - 18, 2023 Location: Tapuae-o-Uenuku / Hector Mountains, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  19.26 mi / 31 km Total Elevation Gain : 8,978 ft / 2,736 meters Trip Duration: 2 Days Team:  Solo Field Notes: The track starts off on farmland which I'm not entirely sure is meant to be accessible to the public. The track ends at a gate at roughly 1,000 meters and there are cairns to mark the way towards the creek. Be sure not to gain too much elevation here. To reach the hut, osciliate between the ridges on the climbers right and the creek - there is no straightforward path. To summit Ben Nevis from the hut is roughly seven hours return with a lot of "up and down" and sidling. You're unlikely to see anyone on this trip. P.S. - bring wood as there is none at the hut! Rating:  1, I Download GPX File Google Maps Location Ben Nevis and Two Mile Hut Route Topo With perfect weather all week in Queenstown, I was a bit jaded when I woke up on my day off to find unrelenting pouring rain. The forecast said it was supposed to ease by late morning, but at noon it was still a downpour. Nonetheless, I figured I would walk into the hut in the rain and have a fire to get warm - neither would actually happen. As I drove south of the Remarkables, the weather was changing. There was a southerly wind blowing the weather out of the region and the sun started to poke out. I always love the lighting when there is a mix of storm clouds, blue sky, and sun. I arrived at the trailhead only to realize that the track to a hut isn't really a track. I'm pretty sure this goes on farmers land even though I've found multiple trip reports of Kiwi's using this exact track. It was too late and I had no alternative besides doing something else, which I wasn't going to do, so I went ahead and took the "risk." The first 800 meters or so follows a 4wd track of sorts up a gradual, grassy slope. The views over Lake Wakatipu are just stunning and I'd love to explore the area by Bayonet Peak, Bay Peak, Walter Peak, etc. I'd imagine not many make the effort to get back there. Beautiful golden tussock and blue skies Eventually the track ended at a gate and from here I loosely followed cairns that led to Two Mile Creek. As a note, the easiest travel is between the 1,300 meter and 1,350 meter contour lines. If you go too high, you will go up and down rather than a gradual increasing sidle. Once I sidled above Two Mile Creek, I dropped down to meet the water. There is no straightforward path here to the hut. I chose to stick to the creek for a bit until it narrowed and then climbed climbers right onto the grassy ridge until eventually dropping back down to the hut. Travel here was a bit frustrating as you can't see where to place your foot through the tussock and there were many holes that I stepped into. Navigating above Two Mile Creek Three and a half hours later I laid my eyes upon Two Mile Hut. It is truly in a spectacular setting as the craggy Hector Mountains rose above with a fresh coat of snow. As I walked into the hut it is quite obvious not many make the trip out here, there was a strong sense of solitude. My only regret was not collecting firewood on the way to the hut! Big mistake! This hut is definitely BYOW - bring your own wood. One thing that will not lose its luster is sitting in a backcountry hut accompined only by the wind blowing over the tops and the stream rushing nearby. I laid in complete silence allowing my nervous system to tune itself to natures orchestra. After a solid sleep of around six to seven hours I opened the door to the hut and was greeted by crystal clear blue skies. I actually shouted "yes!" I made coffee, packed my bag, and set off for the summit of Ben Nevis. I thought it would be a quick jaunt to the peak, I was very wrong. There was so much sidling, ups and downs, and terrain changes that by the time I reached the summit and back I had gained close to 1,500 meters of elevation gain. From the hut I climbed to a saddle that looks into the North Branch of Wye Creek. From there I sidled northeast until I reached a spot on the ridge at 1,950 meters. I was surprised to see how much snow was still out here and was glad I brought my light ice axe and crampons. Navigating snow slopes near Ben Nevis I dropped down a short snow slope and then climbed up another slope to reach a col at 2,000 meters on the west ridge of Ben Nevis. At this point I realized it was going to be a long day out. The scenary was spectacular though and the weather perfect. There was a light wind that would blow about the mountains, creating an almost eery silence. I kept moving as the sun was already very warm and I knew I would have to retrace my steps over those sun-baked snow slopes. At the col on the west ridge, I glissaded 200 meters down so that I could bypass steep, loose terrain. Again, I sidled to the west at the 1,800 meter countour level until I reached the rocky north face. From here it was straight up. The terrain was rocky boulders that had just been covered in a few inches of snow - yay! My route from the col to reach the north face of Ben Nevis I continued my strong pace upwards and at nearly four hours I reached the summit. I couldn't help but let out a celebratory yell. Ben Nevis was more challenging than I expected. It was also very much worth the effort. I sat in the sun, eating a sandwhich made of venison salami , and enjoyed the views of the Hector Mountains. The silence was spectacular. Summiting Ben Nevis Knowing I still had the majority of the day ahead of me, I parted ways with the peak. I retraced my steps - back down the north face, sidled to the east, climbed two hundred meters up to the col, dropped back down, traversed snowy slopes, climbed up another snow slope, and did the long sidle over loose rock back to the col above Wye Creek. I dropped down to the hut, climbed up and above the hut, dropped down into the creek, sidled and climbed up out of the creek, and finally dropped another 1,200 meters all the way back to the car. Woof. Ten hours later I was very happy to take a cold plunge in Lake Wakatipu and inhale some Indian food :) Happy days...

Date: October 28 - 29, 2023 Location: Forbes Mountains, Mount Aspiring National Park, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: Bike - 15.31 mi / 24.63 km | Climb - 15 mi / 24 km Total Elevation Gain : Bike - 493 ft / 150 m | Climb - 6,300 ft / 1,920 m Trip Duration: 2 Days Team: Solo Field Notes: An absolutely brilliant trip up the Rees Valley with easy access via Clarke Slip. Biking up the valley on the 4wd track saves hours of walking, although beware of the river crossings after periods of heavy rain or high melt. There is a bivy rock just out of Clarke Slip at 1,300 meters with plenty of water but it will not provide adequate cover in rough weather. The ascent to the summit of Mount Clarke is straightforward with the south ridge as ones guide. Rating: 1, I Download GPX File Google Maps Location How does one describe the things that happen in the lofty places of the world? Truly, it is an impossible task. I've found my greatest pleasures in life to be in the high places. Yes, amazing women, delicious bread, and roasted meat is another story. But the hills are something totally beyond scope... "The non-climber will never understand it...but we who climb know what life really means...not till you have been to the edge of the abyss can you know how good life is and what a lovely place is the world." - Hermann Buhl The trip started with a bike up the stunning Rees valley. Massive snow capped peaks glistened above. I had about 14-15 km to get to Clarke slip and I could get most of them done by following the 4wd track that goes up the valley. At the first river crossing, I completely lost the 4wd track and spent the next two hours biking over untracked land (side note: I did find the correct track on the way back and the GPX file is correct!). After countless river crossings I came across the 4wd track for the final 15-minutes. At this point I stashed the bike in the woods and set off on foot. I walked through stunning beech forest and couldn't help myself from taking a ton of photos. Wire Bridge New Zealand is other-worldly. From biking through an open valley with towering peaks, crystal clear blue waters of glacial runoff, to a pristine forest filled with greens of every shade. I refreshed myself with a cold drink from the mountain spring and continued onward. Eventually I ended up at Slip Flat where I was to ascend up the southeastern slopes of Mount Clarke. This is obvious, and I think the best ascent / descent route goes up towards the end of the slip. I followed this straight up with easy travel through the forest for a few hundred meters until it turned into a rock field. Travel was significantly easier on the way up than down. Towards the top of the slip I met bluffs straight overhead. From here, the route angles up and to the climbers right still following the rock gully. I climbed onto the ridge, bashed through some scrub on my way upwards, and once passed the bluffs, went to the climbers left and gained the south facing slopes of Mount Clarke. As far as off-route travel goes, this was not bad at all. My next objective was finding the bivy rock. I knew there was one up here but I had no beta on it. With a perfect forecast and zero rain for the next few days, I didn't bring a shelter but brought my winter mountaineering bag (which I did not regret). As I traveled upwards I found it! It was a nice little cutout and perfectly flat. There is room for two people and I would not recommend staying here in rough weather. Rock Bivy on Mount Clarke For the next few hours I focused on hydration and refueling. As the sun dipped behind the mountains, I watched in awe as clouds danced around the summits of Mount Earnslaw. A truly stunning peak. As night fell, the moon replaced the job of the sun and cast its spotlight on the peaks. Every time I opened my eyes I said out loud "this isn't even real!" Mount Earnslaw was completely lit up by the moon and a few stars twinkled above. Magic. At 5 am I turned on the stove to brew some coffee. First light was at six and I wanted to be on the move at that time. I figured: three hours to the summit, thirty minutes of rest time, and an hour and a half down. Travel is straightforward to gain the snowfields. I followed the south facing slopes, always trending to be near the prominent ridge but never on it directly. At 1,500 - 1,600 meters it was time for crampons. After this brief transition I kept moving. Alpenglow made its appearance on the peaks above. Two hours of plodding along the sun finally broke above the south ridge - thank you. Mount Head and Moira Peak were absolutely stunning. From my perspective they looked virtually impossible to climb! I kept moving up the gentle slopes of Mount Clarke and traversed across the face and gained a col to the West. From here, I traveled up along the west facing ridge until I met the final few meters of the summit ridge. It was iced over and had a "knife edge" look to it. I drove my ice axe into the ridge and took the final steps to the top of the peak. What lay ahead of me was hard to take in. The views to the northeast had so many peaks of such incredible scale my head spun. The Snowdrift Range, the Peaks of the East Matukituki, and the Lord of the Bonar Glacier - Mount Aspiring - reached up towards the heavens. It seemed as if there were thousands of peaks in front of my eyes. The cold summit wind brought me back into the present and I backed off the summit and hid behind the ridge to refuel. I applied sunscreen, rehydrated and ate some trail mix. After snapping a dozen photos and videos I made my way off the peak. Getting back to the snow-free ridge was fast. It took me an hour to get back to the place where I had originally put my crampons on. Where the soft snow had slowed my approach up the peak, the soft snow made for very fast travel downwards. I couldn't help but keeping looking back at Mount Head and Moira Peak - wow. Surreal - Moira Peak & the Osonzac Twins Back at the bivy I packed up camp. I knew I still had a fair few hours of travel until I could get back to my car. The route back was pretty uneventful but I will make a quick note: make sure to go slow and choose the best route back to top of Clarke Slip. I rushed it and kept bashing my way through steep bush which was totally unnecessary. I also ate shit and took a hard fall while descending the top of the slip. At the bottom of the slip I gained the main trail and headed south back to my bike. Walking through the shaded forest one final time was a treat. It had been eight hours on the move so far and I was glad to be at the bike. As I peddled back to my car I was fired up to be on the 4wd track the entire time and I took care to not lose it when doing river crossings. Being on the correct track saved me about thirty minutes. At the final river crossing I stripped off all of my clothing and went for my ritual cold plunge. I sat on the warm stones completely naked and let the sun warm my body while I took in my final views of Mount Clarke. What a trip this had been. I love these types of adventures that require multiple disciplines: biking, river crossings, route navigation, bushwhacking, bivying, and mountaineering. This was my type of trip. This is why I am back in New Zealand. This is why I may never leave. Happy days...

Date:  June 3, 2024 Location: Crown Range, Arrow Junction, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 9.30 mi / 15 km Total Elevation Gain : 2,961 ft / 903 m Trip Duration: 4 hr 52 min Team:  Flora Yu Field Notes: If you have two cars, start from the top of the Crown Range and follow the obvious ridge to Crown Peak. Follow the 4wd track down to the other vehicle at Glencoe Road. Beautiful views of the Richardson Mountains. Rating:  Hiking / trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mount Scott, Crown Peak Route Topo The other day I stopped into Small Planet to buy my backcountry ski set up for the season. The guy fitting my boots was an avid mountaineer. I asked him, "how have you found getting partners to go into the mountains with?" His response: "terrible." You'll notice on the overwhelming majority of my trips in New Zealand are solo. I've found it extremely difficult to make partners here. I think the majority of people who participate in mountaineering and backcountry skiing here is very, very small. However, one day I received an email from someone apart of the New Zealand Alpine Club, Flora Yu. I couldn't believe it. Flora is an aspiring climber and had also climbed Mount Liverpool. While we are in a transition season here in New Zealand, hiking still remains a fantastic proposition and an opportunity to continue to build fitness. Crown Peak We chose an easy objective for the day to stretch our legs and get some sun. Flora and I met at the bottom of the Crown Range at seven in the morning. The stars were still glittering at this point as we drove up the Crown Range. By eight we were climbing up the slopes of Mount Scott. There was a light breeze blowing but enough to know that it was indeed a cold wind. As we reached the the top of Mount Scott it was absolutely cold. The wind was coming right out of the south - from Antarctica. The highlight was that the sunrise hitting the golden tussock slopes of the ridge was a stunning sight. Following this beautiful ridge towards Crown Peak As we continued along the easy ridge our conversations slowly faded. This was not because we didn't want to speak to each other. It was because the wind picked up speed and it got bloody cold! At the summit of Crown Peak the views were stunning. We could see Major Peak, Minor Peak, Mount Larkins, Centaur Peaks, and Aspiring. We looked along the ridge towards Mount Sale and decided we were unmotivated to continue to get blasted by the wind, so we headed down. Thirty minutes later we were basking in the glory of a beautiful, sunny winters day. Near the bottom of the mountain we laid in the grass and enjoyed some snacks (mainly Flora's snacks). Although I love going solo, it was great to be in the mountains with someone else. Flora was great company with and I look forward to many more trips with her. For now we need snow! Happy days... Descending to the car from Crown Peak

Date:  February 27 - 29, 2024 Location: Snowdrift Range, West Matukituki, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance (from Aspiring Hut):  21.09 miles / 33.94 km Total Elevation Gain (from Aspiring Hut) : 9,466 ft / 2,885 m Trip Duration: 3 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: Mount Liverpool makes a fantastic climb over a long weekend. Bike into Aspiring Hut and climb the steep track to Cascade Saddle which offers plenty of scenic camp spots along with water and a toilet. From Cascade Saddle, Liverpool is climbed (along with Plunket and Islington Dome) by following the broad ridge. The crux of this trip are the crevasses along the ridge. From the camp at Cascade Saddle it took me 8 hours return. Rating:  II, 1 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Originally this trip was planned to go with the OSONZAC club. However, a perfect weather forecast and a desire to climb on snow saw me biking solo up the West Matukituki. I've written about it before, but I simply love this place. It is almost as God himself designed this valley for mountaineers. There are still so many great peaks I've yet to climb...Rob Roy, Avalanche, Aspiring, Fog Peak,   Tyndall,  Popes Nose...this trip gave me this inspiration to potentially climb all the peaks of the West Matukituki. I'm not super keen on lists, so if it happens it happens by its own accord. I got way too late of a jump on the day and I left Aspiring Hut at six in the evening. Carrying three days of food, mountaineering equipment, and my bivy gear up a 1,450 meter climb was fun work. It took me exactly three hours to reach the saddle. Along the way, the views were incredible as normal. The sunset over Mount Aspiring was one of the best I've seen all season. I got into camp under headlight, quickly unpacked, ate dinner, and tried to get in as much sleep as possible. My original plan was to climb Tyndall on day two, but the more I thought about it I felt like I should go for Liverpool (and I'm glad I did). The weather forecast was calling for sun, clouds, and no precipitation. Being that there was virtually no risk of avalanches on the route, I slept in as much as possible. I was slow moving in the morning and was in a blanket of clouds all the way to a few hundred meters below Plunket Dome. When I broke the clouds and reached the snowline, I was surprised to see just how many crevasses were on the slope to Plunket Dome. I put on crampons, took out my ice axe, and moved cautiously up the slope. The feeling of sharp tools on hard snow is one of my favorites. The air was crisp, the sky blue, the views powerful. I quickly reached the summit of Plunket Dome and looked along Governor's Ridge to Liverpool. What I saw I couldn't believe - there were virtually no major crevasses to avoid! I was thrilled and kept moving. Once along the ridge the views of Mount Edward, Maoriri, Maruiwi, and Maori were stunning. From the Dart Glacier these are imposing climbs. Once above the last climb, I walked across a long snowfield before reaching the summit of Islington Dome. I scrambled up one of the pinnacles, unsure if I was actually on the highest one. To be honest, I didn't really care and am surprised this is even considered a summit. What lay before me was the final ridge to Liverpool and what a treat it was. A layer of cloud had swamped the the West Matukituki to the right while the Dart Glacier was clear on the left. The sun hit against the cloud and created an almost surreal scene. The summit ridge had a knife-like look to it, making the final steps an epic finish to the climb. I found a sheltered spot to have lunch and refuel. It was dead silent and I was alone in the alpine. Right before I left, the cloud cleared a bit and I was able to snap some summit shots. I retreated back to camp, took a seriously cold swim in the glacial fed stream, and crashed. The next morning I woke up to a brilliant sunrise and everything soaking wet with condensation. I hobbled out of my tent, fired up some coffee, and watched the sun hit the slopes of Tyndall  and Ansted. I had the idea of climbing Tyndall but I lacked the motivation. By the time I reached the pylon, it was already way to hot. Down I go! Along the way I was able to chat with two young climbers who were stoked to have climbed Tyndall yesterday. It was cool to see them fired up on one of their first major climbs. We reached Aspiring Hut together and shared some snacks before I biked out and they walked. This was another classic New Zealand trip. Powerful scenes, a fun climb, solitude, great weather, and met some nice folks along the way. Happy days...

Date:  August 5 - 7, 2024 Location: Eyre Mountains, Taka Rā Haka Conservation Park, Southland, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  15.04 mi / 24.2 km Total Elevation Gain : 2,957 ft / 901 m Trip Duration: 3 days Team:  Alessia Bertan Field Notes: A super relaxing three day hut bagging trip in complete solitude. We walked in at sunset to Mansion Hut on day 1. The next morning we bush bashed up a spur to gain Mount Bee ridge and then headed to the Bunkrooms for an incredible day of relaxation. The next morning we walked back to the car feeling totally recharged. Rating:  Hiking / tramping, off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mansion Hut & The Mount Bee Bunkrooms Route Topo The Eyre Mountains from Mount Bee Ridge The Eyre Mountains have a bit of mystique about them. They are isolated, remote, and access can be tough. As one drives south past Kingston and enters the rural surroundings of Southland, the Eyre Mountains climb skyward from farm country. This was not the trip to go on a deep exploration, but rather to explore the foothills and bag a few huts along the way. Alessia is flying back to Italy at the end of August, so we decided to plan a road trip and explore some new areas before she leaves. With an awesome weather forecast in the South it was the perfect opportunity to explore new corners of the map. We arrived at the trailhead on Mulholland Road and set out with the sun making a rapid descent. Our plan was to walk a few short hours and spend the night at Mansion Hut - a two bunk bivy with an open fireplace. The walk up Irthing Stream was better than I thought with the track not being too hard to follow and only one stream crossing. There are many fantastic feelings in the mountains. Arriving to an empty hut after dark with headlamps beaming is one of them. I jumped straight in to getting the fire going with Alessia on emotional support. Mansion Hut is exactly what I thought huts would be like in the Eyre Mountains. Old, small, open fireplace, a bit of rubbish left on the floor, names scribbled on the bed posts, the door handle broken but somehow functional. In a word: character. Irthing Stream gurgled outside and the beech forest whispered in the wind. The stars that night burned so brightly I wondered if they were trying to communicate a deeper message. In the morning we woke to chirping birds and blue sky. What a perfect day to bush bash (Alessia's "first time"). Coffee was consumed and we started up the spur behind the hut towards Pt. 742. Although steep, this was the best part of the climb. After gaining Pt. 742 the long ridge up to Mount Bee ridge was slow and arduous. It felt like forever. Eventually we topped out, treated to fantastic views of the Eyre Mountains covered in a blanket of white with high-powered wind blasting the ridge tops. Alessia with Pt. 742 behind We had intentions to head north along the ridge but decided to head to the Mount Bee Bunkrooms instead. An amazing decision, because, we had the hut to ourselves and it was fully stocked with firewood. Thank you firewood God. We spent the rest of the day in a meditative state that would be difficult to put into words. Hot soup, crackling fire, warm hut, sun streaming through the windows, wind pounding the roof, minimal words spoken. The sunset put on a display that we felt we should've paid for and the stars had us wanting to leave behind a tip. It was one of the best days I've ever spent in a hut. That night we slept like pigs. The following morning we walked the 4wd track back down to the van, celebrating an incredibly relaxing trip with coconut water and a cold plunge in Irthing Stream. That afternoon we headed south towards Riverton in search of waves. Happy days...

Date:  September 25, 2024 Location: Rees Valley, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  Paddling - 5.43 mi / 8.73 km | Hiking - 6.46 mi / 10.39 km Total Elevation Gain : 656 ft / 200 m Trip Duration: 4 hours Team:  Chris Churcher Field Notes: A perfect first river trip, even after rain. Walk up the valley and depending on flow, put in at either Twenty Five Mile Creek or higher up the valley. Due to recent rainfall we were able to put in closer to the Hunter, although this is unlikely as the season goes on. Gauge flow for the Rees at Invincible : 25 cumec. We only scraped bottom a handful of times with no walking. Rating : Class I Download GPX File Google Maps Location Rees Valley Packrafting Route Topo. Chris walking alongside the Rees River Chris and I were brimming with excitement as we drove the Queenstown Glenorchy road on a stunning Wednesday morning. In my excitement I kept calling out the names of all the peaks we were driving past - namely the ones of the Richardson Mountains which I love so much. With all of the rain we were both curious as to how the Rees River would look. However, when we arrived at Muddy Creek it looked just as I remembered it almost a year ago when I climbed Mount Clarke. It was going to be a good day. We shouldered packs and marched North up the Rees. The last time I was here I took the 4wd track. This trip we opted for the actual trail. After having done both - the 4wd is faster and you’re going to get wet feet either way. If I was going on a non packrafting trip I’d just use my bike. As we walked up the valley there were three noticeable avalanches that had released in the last storm. Two on the east facing slopes of Mount Earnslaw and one on the east aspect of Ellie Peak. Unfortunately climbing season isn’t here just yet. It was hard to take our eyes off the dominant peaks of the valley, so I pitched Chris the idea of an ascent of Moira Peak and Mount Head this spring. “You’ll never be the same.” The sales pitch worked and he sounded stoked. As time ticked on our stoke was almost too much to handle. We had purchased these rafts months ago in the dead of winter knowing they weren’t going to be able to be put to use anytime soon. The only trip I had done was on Lake Manapouri - but it was flat water. This was an actual moving body of water (called a river). Our blood was boiling. Halfway between Twenty Five Mile Creek and the West Hunter we put in. We were borderline foaming at the mouth. This is the moment we had been waiting for. Paddling a pristine river surrounded by sandflies with the Forbes Mountain on our left and the Richardson Mountains on our right. I hope I never lose this level of stoke in the mountains. Whether it’s a grade 1 river, a grade 1 climb, a simple hike or a mellow backcountry ski run - it’s all about having fun. And today was beyond fun. We floated down the river, hit a few small wave trains, and smiled the entire way. It was awesome to see Chris totally absorbed and loving his decision to buy a packraft. Chris enjoy some grade 1 rapid fun. Mount Head and Moira Peak behind. When we took out just before Muddy Creek, the clouds came in and the wind picked up sending a cold chill through our bodies. We quickly packed up and headed back to Glenorchy so we could enjoy a celebratory coffee at the one and only - Mrs. Wooly’s. Happy days…

Date:  September 29, 2024 Location: Crown Range, Arrow Junction, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  10.66 mi / 17.15 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,732 ft / 1,747 m Trip Duration: 7 hour 37 min Team:  Emilie Agnew, Kevin Reid Field Notes: From Crown Range Pass head in a northerly direction up and over Mount Scott, following the broad ridge to Mount Sale. Fun skiing east leads to a saddle between points 1617 and 1327. Losing some elevation, head north to gain Point 1308. From here continue north following the bumpy ridge to Cadrona. In all but the deepest of conditions some walking will be required. The route is often skied in the opposite direction. Rating:   F, 1.2, E1 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Crown Range Traverse Route Topo Kevin and Emilie near the summit of Mount Sale Spring has tested my patience so far this year. I had visions of some cold, clear high pressure systems with a stable snowpack to climb and ski in the big mountains. Instead, it's been dumping snow and the avalanche hazard has been quite dangerous. As I write this, two people have been buried in the last week and one person dead. With a beautiful weekend approaching the Southern Alps, the first in awhile, I was wracking my brain about what could work. Eventually, one has to question themselves if they need to think that hard about "what could be safe?" The reality is, it's dangerous out there in the high peaks. I don't know anyone who has climbed anything big or been up high. There's a saying I once heard - "the best climber is the one who knows when to stay home." I have observed myself becoming extremely impatient this week and realized that it is not the time to go high. Thankfully I was able to have some open and honest conversations with my friend and climbing partner, Henry Frakes, whom I continue to learn from in more way than one. So, what to do with a dangerous snowpack and beautiful weather? Find low angle terrain without overhead hazard. I was in conversation with two people whom I had met at a crevasse rescue training - Emilie and Kevin. I pitched the idea to them and gratefully they were keen. We started the day at the top of Crown Range Pass to the surprise of a few Asian tourists who were wondering if this was the ski field. One of my favorite moments of the day was watching a small Japanese child stare in wonder as I packed my gear while I chatted to the father. Was that moment planting the seed deep in the child's subconscious mind that will germinate into the next generation of backcountry skiers? Trail runners on, we climbed up Mount Scott until we hit the snowline at 1200 meters. The day was beautiful as we stood atop our first summit of the day, wasting no time and continuing on towards Crown Peak. We hopped a fence or two, skidded, took skis off, put skis back on and eventually hit great touring conditions as we neared the summit plateau of Crown Peak. The wind had decided to blow so we decided to keep moving. I remember my last time up here and know how immobilizing the wind can be if it gets into your bones. Skinning towards the summit of Mount Sale Blue sky against white snow provides a surreal experience in the mountains. We were three black figures moving across the landscape. The snow had softened considerably and we were excited to ski the eastern aspects off Mount Sale. At the summit, we transitioned to ski mode and enjoyed perfect corn conditions into the basin near Point 1327. It was so much fun we decided to skin up near Point 1617 and enjoy one long run all the way down to our transition point. The stoke was high as we regrouped at the bottom and everyone was beaming. I had low expectations of the snow conditions today and was happily proven wrong. We enjoyed a bite to eat and continued on to Point 1308, heading north from here. The remainder of the day was a bit of slog. We spent a ton of time with skis off, walking in ski boots, our toes enduring solid punishment. The southern aspects provided snow, the northern aspects provided tussock. It wasn't an easy day by any means and I want to acknowledge that Kevin and Emilie were fantastic companions. Fit, great energy, good vibes. Good mountain partners... seek and ye shall find. As we climbed the final 100 meters to greet the Cadrona Mountain road, we were way past schedule. No one was going to be up there at five in the evening. In my gut, which I trust more than anything, I could feel that (as my best bro Alex says) everything is always fine. I climbed up over the last slope, looked up the road and saw a truck ripping down the mountain. Holy shit! I blasted down the mountains with skins on. I ate shit. Kevin flew down after me. He ate shit. I got down to the road and flagged down the truck like someone was dead. Desperation in my voice, "can you please give us a ride?!" We only have room for one . "Dude, please...we can sit in the ute." They chatted among themselves. Alright, let's go. Then Emilie comes over the slope. Incredibly, she didn't eat shit. Riding down that mountain road as the sun set over the Otago Southern Alps was one of the sweetest feelings I've had in so long. Like finding a swimming hole after a stinking hot walk down from a mountain slope. As I walked along the ridge tops that day, I kept looking out at all of the mountains there are to explore in this country and the limitless potential they provide for all of the mountain disciplines. I am indeed grateful to spend my days here. Happy days...

Date:  August 10-11, 2024 Location: Takitimu Mountains, Southland, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  12.21 mi / 19.65 km Total Elevation Gain : 2,598 ft / 792 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Alessia Bertan Field Notes: Another relaxing trip, this time into the Takitimu Mountains. Park at Dunrobin Valley Road and walk the easy hour and a half trip to Aparima Huts. Take the 4wd track into Waterloo Burn and climb the northwesterly spur, avoiding scrub, to the summit. Permission must be sought from Waterloo Burn Station to climb South Braxton. Rating:  Hiking to hut / basic tramping off trail for South Braxton Download GPX File Google Maps Location Aparima Huts & South Braxton Route Topo After our relaxing hut-bagging trip in the Eyre Mountains, Alessia and I spent a few days by the ocean in Riverton. The forecast was calling for weather to move in by Sunday night, so we decided to take advantage of one final spell of good weather and drive north to the Takitimus. The Takitimu Mountains are named after the ancient Maori migration waka (canoe) Takitimu. Neither Alessia or I had been here before and being mid-winter combined with the fact that we were seeking easier trips, we decided to hike in to Aparima Huts. When we pulled into the parking lot my intuition proved right - we would not be having this hut to ourselves like the previous trip. It was Saturday with a decent forecast. A party of three adults and two children shouldered large packs in the parking lot. That could mean one of two things. Either they were going deep into the bush (highly unlikely) or they were going to really enjoy themselves (likely). We weren't fussed either way and headed off to the huts with significantly smaller packs. Ninety minutes after leaving the car park we arrived at Aparima Huts. I was surprised to see the state of the main hut. The door was left open, flies buzzed inside, trash was on the floor, someone had left their shit covered toilet paper on the inside of the wood burner and the sleeping mats had traces of mold on them. It felt more like a basic bivy than a "standard hut." Climbing the NW spur of South Braxton Alessia and I had a bite to eat, ditched our gear, then headed up the Waterloo Burn 4wd track. Footwear came off as we crossed the Burn and soon enough we were heading up the northwesterly spur of South Braxton. I feared scrub but was happily proved wrong. Travel was easy up the spur and we were treated to a unique view of the Takitimus. As we climbed higher so did the speed of the wind. On the summit ridge we hid on the easterly side of the mountain and enjoyed a moment of relaxation. The wind was blowing about the tops and our minds drifted to a warm fire in the hut. I posed the question: "do you think we will have the hut to ourselves tonight?" Alessia said no and I optimistically said yes. Travel was quick down the spur and before long we were back at the 4wd track taking off boots and socks to cross the Burn. Wow that water was cold. At the crossing we watched as one truck tried to un-glue another from the mud. I didn't think there was a chance that truck was getting out. That mud was quicksand Indiana Jones deep. From L - R: Clare Peak, Waterloo Peak, Mount Hamilton & North Braxton from South Braxton I felt I had to ask the hunters... do you need our help? One of them laughed at my question as I sheepishly knew the answer before I asked it. When we arrived back at Aparima Huts we found them both fully occupied with fires roaring. The group from the parking lot decided to shack up with us while three teenage boys took the old one. I went over to the old hut to have a chat with the boys and hear about their trip. Aparima Huts They opened the door and with wide eyes and full hearts told me about their three day adventure. Crossing rivers, trudging through snow, hopping on slippery boulders, sleeping in weathered huts, howling at the moon. You could see, feel , just how impactful this trip was for them. The type of trip that leaves an imprint on the soul and is resistant to the elements. Like a passport stamp that leaves its ink behind for a lifetime. The folks we met in the hut were a kind bunch. They had brought plenty of wood, plenty of booze, and plenty of sugar for the youngsters. The adults were fascinated in Alessia's Italian roots and shared their positive experiences in her home country. As night fell, the kids tucked away and we adults scooted outside. A fire was started and the sparks climbed towards the stars. With the amount of time I spend in the backcountry, I am always surprised at how little I get to have a fire. This was a real treat. This trip was quite different to our time in the Eyre's but still an excellent time away in the hills. We had explored two mountain ranges that neither of us had ever been before. Back at the van, we enjoyed a delicious breakfast and a cold plunge in the Aparima River. That afternoon we headed north back to Queenstown to end a memorable one week road trip. Happy days...

Date:  August 26 - 27, 2024 Location: Lake Manapouri, Fiordland National Park, Southland, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  Paddling - 7.65 mi / 12.31 km | Hiking - 10 mi / 16 km Total Elevation Gain : 2,390 ft / 728 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: A straightforward trip on Lake Manapouri, although I would be cautious to paddle it in anything other than light winds. The Monument makes a worthy side trip. There are excellent camp spots near Hope Arm Hut. Rating : Flat water paddling. Hiking. Download GPX Track Google Maps Location The Monument and Hope Arm Hut Route Topo I had been dreaming about packrafting for over a decade. The first time I ever saw someone using one was Alastair Humphreys - one of my favorite adventurers. Al is someone who has inspired me to pursue a life outdoors. It also helps that he's a genuine dude and a complete badass (although he wouldn't admit that). The Monument from the shores of Lake Manapouri Earlier this winter my friend Chris and I decided to do the Kepler Track over a nice weather window. We were stoked on the idea to do the walk without much people on the trail - probably our only chance really! On the trip the idea of using a packraft to explore Fiordland was brought up. I told Chris I had been dreaming of getting one for way too long and never pulled the trigger. Fast forward eight weeks and I got an email from Huw at Packrafting Queenstown letting me know that the rafts have officially arrived from the USA. A few days later I saw a break in the weather... calm winds and sunny skies for two days in Fiordland. I jumped in the van (I was already in my van) and drove south. I arrived at Frazers Beach to clearing weather. The cloud was lifting off the ranges and the lake was as still as an attic. I blew up the raft, swatted a few sandflies and pushed off into the lake. There was a moment of absolute silence. I was loaded up with two days of food while sitting in an inflatable raft. I actually laughed out loud I was that stoked. The snowy summit of Mount Moturau breaking above the clouds For the next hour and a half I paddled along the shores of Manapouri observing birds and the different variety of trees. It was so still. As I headed to the George Bay Portage the cloud was lifting off the snow covered Kepler Range. It felt like I was taking out my phone for a photo every two minutes. I found the classic New Zealand orange triangle trail marker on a tree, deflated my boat and loaded everything in my pack. I think it took seven minutes and I wasn't trying to go fast. A short fifteen minute walk through a swamped trail led me to the beautiful and sandfly infested George Bay. I quickly inflated my boat (much faster than the previous seven minutes) and paddled West into Rawin' Bay. Fiordland is not a real place. Towering snow capped peaks. Lush rain forest. Waterfalls that fall from the heavens. Spiritual bird calls. The lake was glass - which way was up or down? Around the corner stood the Monument at 466 meters tall. I pulled onto the shore and walked up the peak where I was treated to spectacular views of the Hunter and Kepler Mountains. By late afternoon I had disembarked from my vessel and arrived at Hope Arm Hut. Not a soul in sight. Unfortunately the hut was trashed and smelled like shit. Smashed beer bottles outside the hut, dirt all over the floor, trash left in the hut, used cigarettes left by the fire place. Disappointing. I spent two hours cleaning, wiping, sweeping, and chopping firewood. By sunset I had a fire roaring while steam lifted from my wet clothing. I looked out the window and was summoned to the lake to observe the remaining days light. I made my way to the edge of lake and exhaled deeply. The end of the day. Sunset complete. Last light. Twilight. The first star flickers above me through a wisp of cloud. Two birds call out into the unlit forest. Ripples of energy make their way across the water and dissipate at the pebbled shore beneath my feet. Deadwood is scattered across the beach. The shadows of the mountains creates a contrast which turns half of the lake jet black. Suddenly I feel everything, hear everything, see everything, am everything. As soon as I am conscious of this it's gone. Like a candle you are enjoying so immensely for the light it provides until, without warning, the wick burns out. Truly, all things pass. Twilight on the shores of Lake Manapouri. The Kepler Mountains in the distance with The Monumnent on the right. That night I had possibly the best sleep I've ever had in the mountains. I had parked myself next to the wood burning stove hearing only the crackling of dried wood and the distant bird call. In the morning I was greeted to light rain falling on the metal roof. Without delay I packed my gear and followed the trail into the bush, enjoying this section of the trip. I decided to climb over Point 477 and gain one final view of the mountains before returning back to my van. Along the way, my mind was brewing with so many new trip ideas and places to access. The packraft is an incredible adventure tool that opens the door to new ways to move in the mountains. Happy days...

Date:  Multiple trips - Winter & Spring 2024 Location: Doolans Creek, The Remarkables, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Trip Duration: Anything from short tours to multi-day trips Field Notes: Either skin or take the Curvey Basin Chairlift to a steep head wall which gives access the predominantly East to South facing terrain known as the Doolans. Other alternate entry points are Wye Saddle or the head wall south of Point 2057. The area mainly consists of short, moderate angled runs and bowls but does have some steeper options available. The area is easily accessed which makes for either short or longer tours. This zone is highly susceptible to wind loading. Rating:   F, 1.1 -> 2.2, E1/E2 Google Maps Location The Doolans Backcountry Ski Map. Common ascent (purple) and descent (blue) options. Great skiing off Point 2035 Looking West from the basins near Point 1771 at the head of Doolans Creek Right Branch This area can get the brunt of the wind. Notice the cornice above. More information to come here as I spend more time in the Doolans... Happy days!

Date:  October 1, 2024 Location: Rees Valley, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  Paddling - 3.72 mi / 5.98 km | Walking - 4.2 mi / 6.75 km Total Elevation Gain : n/a Trip Duration: 2 laps with walking back to the start: 2.5 hours Team:  Chris Churcher Field Notes: A super fun and bouncy Class II river trip. There is a Class III section that we opted not to paddle and so we started below the initial rapids. A car or bike can be left at the Invincible Mine Snowfields, or it is an easy forty minute walk back to the start. Gauge flow for the Rees at Invincible : 17 cumec. Rating : Class II Download GPX File Google Maps Location Rees River: Muddy Creek to McDougalls Creek Route Topo Chris walking to the put in Only one week ago Chris and I had broke our river packrafting virginity on the Class I section of the Rees River. It was a fantastic first trip and left us wanting more. With the weather still not cooperating to get high in the hills, we decided to go back back to the Rees and get some experience on the Class II section. It was almost a feeling of déjà vu as we drove the Queenstown Glenorchy road. We let out the same excited yell as we rounded the corner and got our view of the mighty Mount Earnslaw. That sight never gets old. Chris on the harder Grade II section As we inflated our rafts, there was a noticeable feeling of tension in my body. Although I knew that serious harm was unlikely to occur today, I had never paddled a Grade II rapid before. I spent a moment doing a quick visualization of the line I wanted to take down the river. The initial launch would be the most challenging part of the day. Straight into it. Five minutes later Chris and I were hooting and hollering - the adrenaline rush was unreal. I can see why people get addicted to whitewater and continue to crave the rush that comes with the higher grades. For now, we are stoked to paddle our Class I and II rivers in search of deep wilderness zones. Fun and bouncy sections on the lower end of the run Happy days.. Authors Note: There is a fantastic write up of this trip with detailed information from Huw Miles which can be viewed here.

Date:  October 5 - 6, 2024 Location: Pisa Range, Cadrona, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  16.53 mi / 26.6 km Total Elevation Gain : 4,436 ft / 1,352 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: The Pisa's might be the most beginner friendly backcountry ski destination I've ever been to. With avalanche danger still high, it was a perfect place for low consequence runs and to spend a night out. Kirtle Burn Hut is a basic hut that is easily reached from Snow Farm in two to three hours and provides great ski touring access. Rating: 1.1, F, E1 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Kirtle Burn Hut & Mount Pisa Ski Tour Route Topo I have been going stir crazy. My friend Alex called me today to see if I had "jumped off a cliff yet." Another climber emailed me saying "I'm going a bit nuts." The weather has been terrible for getting into the alpine. As I write this, the wind is blowing a gale and avalanche danger is considerable. The weather windows we do get are short lived and the snowpack doesn't have time to heal, making for dangerous conditions. I watch the weather forecasts obsessively, probably to a detriment, and knew that I had to do something over the two sunny days we had over the weekend. Northwest towards Dome Rock from Mount Pisa I decided the best option was to head into the Pisa Range. Combined with the fact that there this is a hut I could spend a night in, the terrain is of low consequence, and I have never been there before made it appealing. An hour and change and I was at the top of Snow Farm ready to go. Touring right from the car park - how good? It took two and a half hours to reach Kirtle Burn Hut. I wondered if anyone would be there and to my surprise it seemed there was - all the windows were open. As I got closer to the hut I realized no one was actually there...everything had been left open before the last three day storm. I rounded the corner and got eyes on the front door - it was not a nice sight. Snow had filled about a third of the hut. I got to work and spent the next hour shoveling out snow and mopping up the floors with whatever tools were available. Luckily two Wanaka locals stopped by to help out and the job was done faster than I could do alone. With the sun beaming I left all the windows and doors open to dry out the hut and went exploring. For the first day I decided to skin up to Mount Pisa and ski the western aspects into Cliff Burn. The sky was cobalt blue and a light breeze kept me from wearing just my base layer. The snow was soft and allowed for great spring turns into the basin below. I watched as the kite skiers got lap after lap. Satisfied with my day I headed back to the hut. From the afternoon onward I spent the day enjoying hot drinks, reading, lounging in the sun, tidying up the hut, and absorbing the quiet of the Pisa's. There was a silence that would not be possible to put into words. Like all good trips in the hills, tension submits. Shoulders relax, the jaw releases, the corners of one's mouth automatically go into a slight smile, and eyes become glossy as if one had used a substance. I slept deeply underneath a star filled sky. In the morning I waited patiently in my down filled bag for the first rays of sun to hit the east facing windows. With its arrival I brewed tea and stepped outside. The morning was perfect. The sky a shade of blue that is only possible at the early hour and a pair of Pied Oystercatcher's looked for food in the snow. At ten I witnessed the thawing of snow and began my tour south to Column Rocks. Near the top I ran into another two locals with the man talking so rapidly I walked away wondering what we even spoke about. I decided to ski a northeasterly aspect into the head of Prince Burn which provided some fun morning turns. From there I headed up onto the flat ridge above the Burn where I eventually got one last run, back again, into Prince Burn. I crossed the creek a few times over until eventually meeting the Snow Farm Trail along Roaring Meg. The sun was hot now and I was glad to be back to my home, my beautiful blue van, where I unpacked and headed back to Queenstown. Happy days...

Date:  October 10, 2024 Location: Fiordland National Park, Te Anau, Southland, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  Paddling - 14.56 mi / 23.43 km | Walking - 12.28 mi / 19.76 km Total Elevation Gain : 1,000 ft / 305 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Chris Churcher Field Notes: There are multiple starting points along the Waiau. The river starts with some Class II sections and after Rainbow Reach it becomes Class I. There are apparently jet boats along the river but we saw none. It is also important to note that there are some strainers and submerged logs. Excellent camping can be had on Lake Manapouri while hut options exist as well - Shallow Bay Hut or Maturau Hut (Great Walk Hut). We paddled the Waiau at 540 cumecs. Rating : Class I / II Download GPX File Google Maps Location Waiau River Packrafting Route Topo Chris nearing the end of the Waiau River. Stunning Fiordland scenary. Happy days..

Date:  October 14, 2024 Location: Harris Mountains, West Matukituki, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 9.39 mi / 15.11 km Total Elevation Gain: 6,364 ft / 1,940 m Trip Duration: 9 hours 40 mins Team:  Solo Field Notes: Start at Raspberry Flat car park and walk to the spur between Raspberry Creek and Wishbone Creek. Climbing directly up the spur following a sheep's trail until a flat spot at 1,020 meters. Cross a creek and head east through scrub joining the ridge at 1,380 meters. Take the spur directly out of Wishbone Creek on the true left and head towards Pt 2015. Begin to sidle into the basin below Fog Peak at roughly 1800 meters. Join the West Ridge at any convenient point and head directly to the summit. Climbing Grade: I, 2 Ski Grade: 3.1, PD, E2 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Fog Peak, West Ridge Route Topo After a long period of inactivity in the hills, the climber only wants only one thing: good weather . Good weather seems to solve almost every problem. Depression, sadness, laziness, sickness, you name it! Things come alive in good weather. What good weather also brings is a healthy dose of indecision. The last eight weeks have been simply torturous and my ever increasing list of trips easily doubled. Now the weather was good - what to do? Fog Peak. The West Ridge is the left skyline ridge. I was in conversation with a few people for different trips, but ultimately my loyalties lay in the magical West Matukituki valley. Also, I couldn’t wait. People were talking about trips later in the week and I wanted to go now because God only knows how quick the forecast can change. It was five in the morning when I stepped outside my blue Nissan Caravan onto the gravel parking lot at Raspberry Flat. It was good to be home. Cloud sat somewhere around 1300 meters in the valley and I second guessed the “fine with some clouds” forecast. A fruit smoothie was consumed and I got underway. After scouting the route with binoculars the day before, I took the spur directly between Raspberry Creek and Wishbone Creek. Fast travel was had following the obvious sheep trail that took me to a flat spot at 1,020 meters to cross a creek. Once I skipped across the stones, I headed up and to the east to meet the ridge on the true left of Wishbone Creek at 1,380 meters. Don’t climb above this point as the spur bluffs out and you will need to down climb. Fog Peak and Wishbone Creek center image. I took the spur to the climber's right. I crossed avalanche debris and took the middle ridge that splits the two gully’s, heading up towards point 2015. The snow was hard and the grade steep, so I switched from ski crampons to actual crampons and ice axe. The sun had finally began to touch these northwesterly aspects and everything about me smiled being in the sun. I climbed higher until 1800 meters where I began to sidle east towards Fog Peak. Conditions were stunning and allowed for fast travel. The lower elevations of the valley were a beautiful spring green while the middle and upper elevation bands glistened white. I have never seen Rob Roy Peak look so beautiful. My favorite mountain. From L to R: Edward, Maoriri, Maruiwi, Maiti-iti, Maori, Wahine, Govenor's Ridge, Glengyle, Rob Roy, Avalanche One hundred and fifty meters below the summit I gained the West ridge. The day had been a slog, carrying skis on my back most of the way. My heart was pounding and I had to stop every few minutes for a breath. I looked around. In all directions were an ocean of peaks. Here I was, alone, atop a lofty ridge with my heart ferociously pumping blood to my body to continue the ascent. The wind was non existent and the sun worked its magic on the snow, softening it just the necessary amount for my skis to do their job. I smiled that smile where, you’ve done a magical thing and only you know how special it really is. A few minutes later I stood on the summit. Looking down the West Ridge from the summit of Fog Peak The descent off Fog Peak provided variable skiing up top, and excellent corn skiing on the lower ridges back down to Wishbone Creek. I stepped out of my ski boots and enjoyed a long break in the sun. Truly, this is what I live for. I took a moment to pray and thank God, life, the people apart of it for making this opportunity happen. Sheer gratitude and love for life. Skiing the West Ridge of Fog Peak Unfortunately, that gratitude wore off once I started smashing and falling down the steep tussock slopes! How just one moment ago I was all spiritual and thirty minutes later I was cursing the high heavens! Only the mountains can do this to the soul… At the valley bottom, almost ten hours later, the gratitude had seeped back into my core and I finally could stop for the day. I had timed it perfectly and now it was time to refuel and take a cold bath. Under a scorching afternoon sun, I watched a small avalanche release from Craigroyston Peak. The day had come to an end. Happy days... Looking into the East Matukituki Valley from Fog Peak

Date:  October 17, 2024 Location: Main Divide Range, Ōhau Landsbrough, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 12.19 mi / 19.61 km Total Elevation Gain: 7,152 ft / 2,180 meters Trip Duration: 15 hours 30 mins Team:  Henry Frakes Field Notes: Brewster Hut had no available space so we opted for a single day push rather than carry bivy gear. The trickiest part of the approach is sidling the north facing slopes below Mount Armstrong. It pays to be diligent and pick the correct line. The South West face of Brewster is a consistent fifty degree face for roughly two hundred meters. The ridge to the true summit is exposed and often requires pitching. Rating:  II, 2+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mount Brewster Route Topo Our line up the Southwest Face of Mount Brewster (photo credit: Neil Sloan @ https://neilsloan.smugmug.com/ ) The rise of a full moon in the mountains must be a good omen. Older generations, ones more connected to the natural world would have used the stars and moon to guide their path across landscapes and large bodies of water. As we sidled across the northwesterly slopes below Mount Armstrong, the moon made navigation easy and illuminated our path towards the dominant Mount Brewster. Twilight on Mount Brewster Just a few days ago I had successfully climbed and skied Fog Peak near Mount Aspiring. That trip had barely digested. As soon as I received cell service, friend and climbing partner Henry Frakes had already messaged me about a single day climb of Brewster on Thursday. “No” was not a realistic option. For one, I will jump at any opportunity to climb with Henry. Two, the weather had finally turned dreamlike. Three, I didn’t want to say “no” anyways! Mount Brewster stands at 2,516 meters and dominates the upper Makarora. The current snow coverage on the mountain is sensational due to a very snowy September. We brought our glacial kit but never used it. As we continued our side-hilling below Mount Armstrong, our ankles begged for mercy. With every crampon bite in the side facing slope, the ankle rolls to meet it while the boot stays stiff. Uninterrupted hours of that becomes ruthless. I wound up developing a hot spot on my left arch that turned into a nasty blister. There was no escaping the torture. Six hours in we stood at the base of the southwest face. It looked steep. The line is a consistent fifty degrees for two hundred meters and a fall would be very bad. Up until this point the snow had been incredible, but as soon as we worked up the face it turned to shit. The top layer was a deep sugary faceted layer that made it hard to get purchase. At other times, briefly, it was closer to ice. Henry topping out on the Southwest Face of Mount Brewster The climbing required a level of focus that I later described to Henry as “feeling like I was on a drug.” I could hear nothing except the beating of my heart and the attempt at controlled breathing through my nose. It wasn’t the conditions we were hoping for. Halfway up we briefly considered turning around. Just before exiting the face, the snow that met the ridge turned deep and soft. Henry was unsure and I took a moment to breathe, hoping he would punch through. Eventually he said, “so…you want to come take a look?” It still makes me laugh when I think of how he said it. I moved up next to Henry and was confident we could top out. Every foot placement, every crampon placement, I made one hundred percent. It worked and at seven thirty in the morning we met the sun and stood successfully on top of the southwest face. Alpine Glory. The summit ridge of Mount Brewster. We cramponed up the summit ridge and were greeted with spectacular views. Wild and raw summits radiated out at all angles. A mountain of similar difficulty lay to the east - Mount Barth of the Ahuriri Valley. What was not spectacular was the final climb to the true summit. We stood on the smaller of the two high points, just a few meters in height but thirty meters in length separating us. We had the rope and necessary technical equipment, but the snow quality was terrible. At times, the snow would completely give way underneath your feet. On the face it was distressing. On the summit ridge, it could be fatal. Even with gear the consequences of a fall would be disastrous. There is a time when to hold ‘em, and a time when to fold ‘em. There wasn’t much debate and we headed down. We had successfully climbed the southwest face, our goal, and a few meters in height was not worth the risk. The entry back onto the face was precarious and I took extra care to make it easier for the both us to get back onto the side of the mountain. Down climbing the two hundred meters was arduous work. I was constantly getting showered by snow and ice as Henry moved above me. I kept my head down and move deliberately. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I exited the face. As I sat and waited for Henry, a sort of trance fell over me. Everything was dead quiet and all of my senses were heightened. I stared at the hundreds of peaks before my eyes, my mind totally empty. As my nervous system relaxed, I became extremely hungry and ate half of my food. The long walk back to Brewster. Henry soon joined and we had a good laugh together at the poor conditions, but stoked on the outcome. We packed up and worked back to the hut. The sidling across the mountain was one of the most painful experiences I can recall in a long time. Our feet were smashed, battered, and blistered. Henry resorted to side-crab-walking-kind-of-thing. It was brutal stuff. Back at the hut we took an hour to recover. We ate food, re-hydrated, and chatted to a few hikers. Eventually, it was time to descend and it took much longer to go down than it did to go up. Thankfully Henry and I always laugh together and it made the descent a bit easier. Fifteen and a half hours later we were back at the car park swatting away sandflies and bathing in the Haast River. All I can say is: it was a trip to remember. Happy days... Our line up the Southwest Face of Mount Brewster

Date:  November 3, 2024 Location: Takitimu Mountains, Southland, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  10.53 mi / 16.94 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,233 ft / 1,595 m Trip Duration: 7 hours 37 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: Climb to Princhester saddle and find a rough climbers trail behind a fallen log. Navigate through bush, doing your best to follow the rough trail that breaks above the bush line at 1,000 meters. Head straight uphill to Point 1221. From here, take the obvious ridge up and over Point 1424 then on to the summit of Clare Peak. There is good camping in the basins below Clare Peak. Rating: Tramping, off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Clare Peak Route Topo It is ten thirty by the time I start the day. It is amazing how fast the seasons change. Now there is so much light. I thought time would slow down when I took a long sabbatical from work. It hasn’t. It’s a beautiful spring day. The sun is shining and the sand flies are hiding. Young lambs follow their mothers through the Southland pastures and flowers burst into bloom. Lower Princhester Hut I take the rugged trail north towards Princhester Saddle. A never ending process of up and down, roots and rocks, and other obstacles keeps travel slow. These types of tracks always cause internal friction because the climber wants to move fluidly but the terrain says otherwise. So there is a feeling of force rather than flow. At Princhester Saddle I head West following somewhat of a trail. In a section of thick ferns I lose it and curse out loud repeatedly as I smash through snow covered bush. The wind is up, earlier than forecasted, and it is blowing like it is trying to prove a point. It is a cold spring day and my lower body is soaked from the snow covered forest. Above bush line I immediately thrown on mittens and a down jacket. I am very cold and I eat on the move. Thinking I am through the worst, I am proven wrong. Steep scree slopes for three hundred meters lead up to the ridge. On the tops now, the wind doesn’t allow me to think and I keep moving. I can see the summit of Clare Peak and it looks painfully far away. The last time I was in the Takitimus was much more relaxing. Some days in the hills are romantic. Today, the Takitimus seem bleak and uninspiring. Multiple times I consider turning around. I follow the ridge, post holing at times or navigating icy rocks. At Point 1424 I take out my ice axe. Down climbing ice covered rock is not on the menu today so I decide to bypass them. I drop down five meters and climb across the side of the mountain, stabbing my ice axe into the tussock while kicking steps into the snow. A slip here would be very bad. Safely across I am on my way now and I smile for the first time since leaving the car. It is a strangely quiet scene. The wind comes in blasts and then goes silent. There are no birds, no wildlife. There is no one around. The surrounding mountains look wind battered. Four hours since leaving the car I stand on the summit and sit down. Besides putting on my jacket, it’s the first break I’ve taken the whole day. I look out across the mountain and feel nothing. The entire day has felt like force instead of flow, frustration instead of fun. And it is supposed to be fun - otherwise, what are you doing? This is what I love about the mountains. They are the ultimate teacher, the ultimate master of truth. It will show you exactly where you are at, among many other things. Happy days... Looking back to Point 1424 (R) and Point 1221 (L) from the East Ridge of Clare Peak

Date:  November 11-12, 2024 Location: Richardson Mountains, Rees Valley Station, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 19.51 mi / 31.39 km Total Elevation Gain: 8,655 ft / 2,638 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: For access into Arthur's Creek, see the detailed description below. Ferguson and Lapith Peak make for great skiing with close to 1,000 meters of skiable terrain. There are some exceptional steep couloirs on the south face of Long Charlie Spur. Permission must be sought from Rees Valley Station: 03 442 9908 Climbing Grade: I, 2 Ski Grade: 3.1, PD, E2 Download GPX File Google Maps Location Arthur's Creek Route Topo Spring has finally blossomed and the mountains are delivering. I had considered a variety of different trips for this window and ultimately chose to head into the Richardson Mountains as they will lose snow first before the other ranges. I gave a quick call to the Rees Valley Station to ask for permission and in turn, they gave me some excellent beta to avoid terrible scrub. The Forbes Mountain Range I started mid afternoon under a hot sun. Thankfully the wind was up and it kept me from breaking into a full blown sweat. The route into Arthur's Creek is straightforward but can quickly turn into a shit show. To avoid this, cross Arthur's Creek and look for a clear defined sheep's trail that heads directly uphill. Continue following the sheep's trail until you hit an old fence line. Follow this fence until you find a white pole road marker where there is an obvious gap in the fence. Go through this and again follow a rough sheep's trail through scrub until the ridge is gained at 900 meters. From here, it is easy to follow the ridge line into the head of Arthur's Creek. Once in the mouth of the valley, follow the obvious trail down into the creek and cross over to the true left. Head uphill, gaining roughly sixty to eighty meters in elevation before dropping back down to the creek at 1,260 meters. This route will help you avoid some painfully slow terrain. At the flats, cross over and follow the true right of Arthur's Creek up the valley. There is no easy path forward from here and travel is slow. Mount Ferguson and Lapith Peak route topo I set my alarm for six in the morning, unsure of how good the freeze would be overnight. Part of me felt like I wouldn't be skiing corn until early afternoon, but I didn't want to risk it. At five thirty in the morning I felt like someone was pushing me awake. And no, I'm not kidding. There are things that happen in the mountains that are supernatural. I fired up my Jetboil to brew some hot water and warm the body. By 6:30 I was off. The temperature was absolutely perfect. Cold enough that you didn't break a sweat but warm enough that you're fingers didn't hurt. The snow provided excellent cramponing and I doubted that I would have good skiing conditions. Mount Ferguson is a very straightforward peak and I climbed to the col between the summit and Point 2420. Following the ridge to the summit, I hit a roadblock. A steep, chossy step blocked my path. In ski boots, I wasn't keen. I backtracked and down climbed very steep snow and gained the south face. I traversed over to the east ridge where I was denied again by a nasty cornice. Shit. I worked back across the south face and found a break between the summit and the step. Third time lucky, I dropped my pack and scrambled up to the summit. There is no denying the majesty of summiting a snow capped peak. In these moments one almost forgets to breathe, or rather, there is no breath. It has been taken away from you by the sheer magnitude of the surrounding landscape. Looking around, my eyes were directed to the remote and stunning Centaur Peaks - a mission for another day. My gaze wandered south along the crest of the Richardson Mountains to summits from previous excursions... Major Peak, Larkins, Black Peak... My ski descent from Mount Ferguson It was roughly ten in the morning and the snow wasn't going to thaw anytime soon so I decided to ski down and head over to Lapith Peak. A few steep and icy turns saw me off the upper mountain while lower down the gradient was relaxed. I crossed over to the second mountain of the day and transitioned below the south couloir. The terrain was somewhere around forty degrees and I used two tools to get up the face (mainly because I wanted to see how the Black Diamond Venom LT works as a pair - note: I love these tools). It felt good to be front pointing. I love the methodical rhythm of right tool, left tool, right crampon, left crampon, repeat. On the summit ridge the sun exploded above me. Blue sky stretched out in all directions. Only in the mountains can such an experience be encountered. The views were profound and I could not take my eyes off the Centaur Peaks. The east facing snow was perfect corn and I wished I was skiing that! Instead I was going to ski very hard, very steep snow. I took a ski strap and lashed my ice axe to my ski pole to create a whippet. Centaur Peaks from the summit of Lapith Peak Off the summit I did a few jump turns and traversed down into the gut. I crossed old avalanche debris and attempted to ski the slight southeast facing aspect of the couloir. It was still bulletproof until I hit corn at 1900 meters. Yes! I let off the breaks and opened up all the way back down to camp. Next to the creek, I took a moment to absorb the day before packing up. Two beautiful summits in perfect weather and stoked that I was able to ski them. A true blessing. The creek gurgled nearby and reminded me of the long walk that awaited. I ate, re-hydrated, organized my gear and shouldered my very heavy pack. My ski line off Lapith Peak It took the same amount of time to get out as it did to get in! Five hours on the trot under a scorching New Zealand sun. Back in the valley the wind rushed down the flanks of the mountains and I happily greeted it. I hadn't seen anyone the whole trip until I met two climbers on their way to "climb Earnslaw before the rain." Go get some. Eleven and a half hours later I got back to the car to end another spectacular trip. Happy days...

Date:  November 23, 2024 Location: West Wanaka Mountains, West Matukituki, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 12 mi / 19.31 km Total Elevation Gain: 4,769 ft / 1,453 m Trip Duration: 7 hours 48 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: Start at Raspberry Flat and follow the track all the way to the final lookout. Head north following the 820 meter contour until heading uphill in a northwesterly direction, aiming for the small tarn on the map (which has disappeared) at 1,220 meters. From here climb steeply to 1600 meters, sidling steep terrain, until in the basin below the summit. Easy snow slopes lead to a straightforward but exposed scramble along the North Ridge. Rating:  I, 1+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Homestead Peak Attempt Route Topo I can’t believe I found myself driving up the West Matukituki again. It’s been the third trip here in the last 5 weeks. However, this time felt different. I didn’t feel recovered from Craigroyston a few days ago. The last five weeks has seen a lot of hard trips. Specifically, one week ago I put in five thousand meters of climbing, the most I’ve ever done in a week. The following seven days my body has felt exhausted. Since a big injury seven years ago I’ve developed a deeper relationship with my body and am tuned it to what it needs. We are conditioned to look externally for internal answers. The government, doctors, “science,” God, our parents, our smart watch, teachers, mentors…the list goes on. Everything I mentioned above is a valuable tool and has its place. But Ultimately, there is no wisdom like the wisdom of the body. The wisdom of the body that has been developed for hundreds of millions of years. Nature has an undeniable rhythm that has been working effectively - forever. And to tune into your body and develop an intimate relationship with is powerful. Today I broke that practice. I went to bed the night before knowing that I shouldn’t go up the mountain. I should take it easy. But no, the mind has other plans. Typically plans that go against the wisdom of the body. Rob Roy Glacier Bridge So at six fifteen in the morning I was off. I crossed the bridge over the Matukituki and headed towards Rob Roy Glacier. It was my first time here and the view was stunning. As I left the track and followed Rob Roy Stream, a MASSIVE piece of the glacier broke loose above me. When I say massive, it was fucking huge. In that instant I thought, holy shit…what if this runs to the valley? I started wind sprinting uphill. Thankfully, there is a massive shelf at Point 1176 that catches all the debris from the glacier and I laughed out loud. I continued to move slow and at 1200 meters reached a level area completely filled with size 3 avalanche debris. Whoa. At four hours in I put crampons on. I couldn’t believe how hot it was already. The freezing level was forecasted at 2,000 meters rising to 2,400 meters in the morning. As I climbed higher, the route began to sidle steeper north facing terrain under Point 1917 at roughly 1600 meters. The snow was already very wet and my foot punched through twice. I took off my cap and wiped a big layer of sweat off my forehead while I looked around. There was avalanche debris everywhere on every aspect. I dug down 50cm in the snowpack to discover that snow was already soaked. The freeze had broken down rapidly. I still had four hundred meters to the summit and this slope would only get more intense solar radiation as the sun moved from East to West. There’s a good rule I picked up from Cody Townsend: go until it doesn’t make sense anymore. It didn’t make sense anymore. I also wasn’t having fun either, so I bailed. I don’t think the chances of getting in an avalanche this day was absurdly high, but in that moment I genuinely didn’t want to be on that mountain. My body sent me a strong message before the climb that I ignored. I wasn’t going to do it again. I felt it was getting risky, for no reason, and emotionally and physically I wasn’t there. So why the fuck would you go on? If you never listen to your intuition you will never know the truth about yourself. You will spend your entire life looking out. Rob Roy Low Peak is just out of the frame on the top left. Turning around in the mountains is a skill, not an error. Paul Newman said it best, “sometimes having nothing is a pretty cool hand.” Human beings would be the only animal on the planet that would judge or shame themselves (or another) when walking away from a potentially dangerous situation. The mountains for me is a sacred place. A place of worship and a place of freedom. It’s where I go to get in touch with reality and what is true. For it to remain that way for me, I need to go when I feel inspired and stay home when unmotivated. Climb higher when there is alignment between body, soul, and mountain and go home when there is division. Enjoy your life and as always, happy days…

Date:  December 7, 2024 Location: Richardson Mountains, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 10.12 mi / 16.28 km Total Elevation Gain: 6,257 ft / 1,907 m Trip Duration: 9 hours 34 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: I had spotted this potential route from the Glenorchy Queenstown road for the last year and wondered if it would provide access to the summit. This is an excellent, direct, and scrub free route. It is best climbed in early season when snow fills the South West couloir, otherwise it becomes dangerously broken with loose rock and may be unclimbable. The top pitch of the couloir steepens up just a bit, which indicates the '+' in difficulty. At the top of the couloir, sidle around to the North West and climb extremely loose rock to the summit. If climbing in a party of two or more a helmet would be a wise choice. There are excellent camp spots at 1,450 meters. Rating:  I, 1+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Stone Peak Route Topo For the last year I've been driving past Stone Peak along the Glenorchy Queenstown road eyeing the snow filled couloir that tops out just shy of the summit. I knew the couloir was obviously climbable, but was unsure of the final climb to the summit. My original plan was to climb Stair Peak in the Rees Valley, but the Rees Valley Station had informed me that they were doing some work in that area. I drove back down the road, saw the Stone Peak route was still in, and made my decision. The Humboldt Mountains at sunrise The alarm woke me up at three thirty in the morning. These pre-dawn starts never get any easier and I hate the feeling of being sleep deprived. At four I was off and the stars flickered above. I headed north down the road until I spotted the 4wd track which would take me across the pasture. From here I began the steep climb towards Point 1234. Summer is an amazing time in the Southern Alps and I couldn't believe how much light filled the sky this early in the morning. The temperature was perfect and I hardly broke a sweat. I sidled Point 1234 on the West and got my first view of the couloir. Wow, steeper than I thought. Today's climb was going to be a bit different. I was trying out my new ultra-light crampons that fit on hiking boots and trail runners - the Petzl Leopard. I also had my ultralight ice axe - the Black Diamond Venom LT. There is much to be said about the ultra light mentality. Simply put - some people (like myself) find enjoyment in moving light and fast in the mountains. Other people like the comfort or style of the traditional approach. Other's prefer a blend. One's approach to a mountain is based off of experience, skill set, goals and mentality. Think for yourself, consciously evaluate your goals and skills, attempt the mountain, and then evaluate. There is ultimately no right or wrong. Personally, I will not go back to a heavier ice axe. My Black Diamond Venom LT is an amazing, light weight tool that does everything I need it to. When it gets steeper, I will pair it with a second tool - The Black Diamond Venom LT Tech. If the terrain gets into the fifty degree range (2+ climbs or above) than I will use my Petzl Quarks. With crampons, if the climb is lower angle snow than I will use my Petzl Leopard's. If it gets slightly steeper than I will pair them with my mountaineering boots for more stability when front pointing. When the terrain gets into the forty degree range or above, than I will use my Black Diamond Sabretooth 12 point crampons. You may think to yourself - wow...that's a lot of gear to own. Yeah, I also get out a lot. I also like to choose the best tool for the job to increase speed and safety which means I have more fun. For Stone Peak, the steeper section would push the Petzl Leopard's to my limit when paired with a flexible hiking boot and I wanted to see how it would work. When I got onto the steeper section of the couloir, I could immediately feel the difference in security. My mountaineering boots have a stiff sole which provides a solid platform to front point. My hiking boots felt like I had crampons attached to a sandal. Well, I guess I found my limit of these crampons on hiking boots! A look at the upper part of the couloir where it steepened up. Challenging in soft boots! I wound up having to kick steps all the way up the couloir. The snow was firm and my toes were in agony. This process was painfully slow but I could not afford to get lazy. Near the top, I angled off to the climbers right to try and get off the snow. I looked for a way to climb the South West facing terrain to the summit, but it was steep and broken. At a few points I considered turning around. I stayed focused and made my way to the top of the couloir. What would be a simple climb with mountaineering boots turned into an exhilarating climb! I sidled to the North West aspect of the mountain and climbed unbelievably loose rock to the summit. Quite a few times I dislodged a massive piles of rocks that crashed below me which echoed around the mountains. Finally, I stood atop the summit. The Southern aspects of Mount Larkins were still covered in snow which glistened in the early morning light. Turning around I viewed the rarely climbed Major Peak. Across the lake I was amazed to see how much snow was still on Bold Peak and the Humboldt Mountains. As always, the views were incredible and I was grateful to be there. I had a quick bite to eat and decided to get back down the couloir while the snow was still in good condition. I found the down climb to be slightly less arduous only due to the fact that I could follow in the steps I had previously kicked. It was great to be off the snow and I allowed myself my first real break in the day - six hours in. The retreat back to the car never really gets any easier even though I get fitter by the trip. The legs still tire, the toes hurt, the sun relentless. Fortunately, what never gets old is a cold plunge in the stunning Lake Whakatipu post trip. After my dip, I parked my van in the shade and dozed off for a much needed afternoon nap. This was a great trip...stoked on Stone! Happy days...

Date:  August 2-3, 2024 Location: Tapuae-o-Uenuku / Hector Mountains, Lake Wakatipu, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  13 mi / 20.92 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,000 ft / 1,524 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: Park at the pullout just past Devil's Staircase Creek and follow 4wd tracks that lead up the mountain. There are nice camp spots on the ridge, although likely bare of water without snow to melt. Rating:  Hiking / Tramping Download GPX File Google Maps Location Pt. 1668 Hector Mountains Route Topo With winter in full swing and a fresh drop of new snow, I wanted to test out my new Jetboil MicroMo and see how good it was at melting snow. I was keen to sleep in my tent as well. With so many multi-day trips in New Zealand involving a hut for the nights accommodation, I feel like I don't really get to use my tent that much. If I'm camping and snow isn't involved, I'll almost always look for a bivy rock or bring one of my all-time favorite pieces of gear: The MLD Trailstar. I purchased this tarp tent 14 years ago and it will be a piece of gear that will last a lifetime . Maybe I'll write more on this piece of gear later. Climbing above Devil's Staircase Creek. I arrived at Devil's Staircase Creek under a bright blue sky. There was not a breath of wind. My pack was strapped to my back and I set off up the 4wd track. To find the track, cross the bridge just next to the parking lot (heading towards Kingston) where there is a locked fence. Hop the fence and follow a rough 4wd track up in a northerly direction before it crosses farmland and becomes more defined. Note: I am always wary of trespassing on a farmer's land. This route is described in the new Moir's Guide. Think for yourself and take responsibility for your own actions. The walk up was largely uneventful. A few sheep not keen to get to know each other, the smell of farm country, the buzzing of helicopters. It felt like spring. I wore shorts and a t-shirt and admired the breathless bluebird sky. Sunset came rather quickly and I decided to set up camp at Pt. 1469. I dug out a platform for my tent and set up camp. I got right to work melting snow and was super impressed with the MicroMo's efficiency. As we enter climbing season where speed and efficiency is of the utmost importance, there is nothing worse than a stove not up to the task of melting snow. Money well spent. The sunset was phenomenal and it was absolutely cold. Not a breath of wind and the stars hyper charged. I wondered if I should howl into the night like a wild animal. We are animals after-all. I went against this impulse, too scared to disturb the night. When I say it was quiet, it was like being in a sensory deprivation tank. The type of quiet that sends a chill up the spine. Sunset over the Hector Mountains I spent that night in a hypnotic mountain trance. Melting snow, drinking hot soup, eating chocolate - but not too loudly! All on repeat until I curled into my warm sleeping bag and slept like a hog. In the morning I quickly warmed some water, strapped on boots and climbed higher up the ridge. I had intentions to climb James Peak but was extremely unmotivated after post holing, sometimes up to my waist, to reach Pt. 1668. Should've brought skis. The sun was already baking me like a chicken left too long in the oven. Already content with the trip, I headed back down to the tent for some coffee and a nap. Late morning, relaxed as I was, I decided to pack up and head back down to the van. It was great to spend a more relaxing trip up high without the backbreaking work of a big climb. Happy days...

Date:  July 23, 2024 Location: Humboldt Mountains, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 14.1 mi / 22.7 km Total Elevation Gain: 6,561 ft / 2,000 m Trip Duration: 11 hours Team:  Henry Frakes Field Notes: Bold Peak is a beautiful pyramid shaped peak that sits just southeast of the powerful Mount Bonpland. Climb the Glacier Burn trail until popping out of the trees at 800 meters. Head up the Glacier Burn until angling south, climbing a massive 800 meter gut filled with very loose rock to Point 1731. Climb across a broad shelf (with excellent camp spots) until snow slopes lead to a col south of Point 1973. Sidle around the back of the ridge and scramble up loose rock until gaining the north ridge. Scramble to the summit. Care should be taken on the descent in the gut. Rating:  I, 1+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Bold Peak Route Topo Almost ten years ago my friend Sam and I had stood at the col south of Point 1973, roughly two hundred meters from the summit of Bold Peak. It was at this point we decided to turn around mainly because of two reasons. First, because Sam had to be back in time for a job interview (where he got hired and then didn't take it). Second, because we were scared. That wasn't the first time we spooked ourselves on a climb. Ten years earlier... Sam retreating from Bold Peak Later that year we attempted Sharks Tooth Peak, a straight forward grade 2 climb (more like a 1 / 1+) straight out of the parking lot. We chose the wrong ridge on the ascent and found ourselves on steep bluffs. All we had to do was down climb and get on the appropriate ridge to continue the climb, but we got scared. Those early days of mountaineering were so memorable because we didn't have a clue what we were doing, so the fear was there out of ignorance. Every mission felt huge. Flash forward ten years and Henry and I stood at the same exact spot at the col south of Point 1973, debating whether to continue. There was no fear present, rather, an awareness of the conditions and ourselves. The climb had taken longer than expected due to the fact that the snow was simply terrible. We made good time up the horrendous terrain of the gut, however, once we donned crampons it was a miserable post hole. Almost every step sunk through to our knees on an unsupportive surface layer. It didn't help we were climbing two thousand meters in a day either. "We are late," said Henry. He was right. It was completely bluebird, the sun beaming. The snow had warmed and it was almost noon. Our main concern was retreating back across where we came. Old avalanche debris from the east facing slopes of Bonpland reminded us of what could happen. One thing I love about climbing with Henry is the openness in conversation. He is calm, collected, and realistic in the mountains. He speaks from experience rather than fear or ignorance. He is very fit so I know he is not completely exhausted and subconsciously wants to turn around. We bounced the conversation back and forth. Ultimately, we continued on and we felt right about it. The main slope we were concerned about was actually in the shade, staying cool for the descent. What we did do, was set a turn around time. If we weren't on the summit by 12:30 we would head back. Climbing to gain the north ridge of Bold Peak. Mount Bonpland behind. From the col, we leapfrogged each other setting steps to the summit. The views from the north ridge of Bold Peak were fucking epic. Mount Bonpland towered above like the God of the Humboldt Range. We plugged steps up to the summit ridge, scrambled on loose rock, and walked to the top of the peak. Wow, that felt good. Legs burning, heart pounding, and fist bumping with Henry. Life in the alpine can be a mystical experience. Mount Bonpland from the summit of Bold Peak We snapped a few photos, had a quick bite to eat, and left. We stood on the summit for about five minutes. It was relatively quick work to get back to the top of the gut and we decided to give ourselves a genuine break. We had barely stopped for almost seven hours. My appetite was low, but I forced myself to eat and drink, knowing the consequences of a poor recovery. With reluctance we headed down the gut, excited for our feet to touch the beautifully sculpted Glacier Burn trail. Arguably the most dangerous part of the day, I dodged a few rocks and took a spill that sliced my finger open when a pile of rock collapsed beneath me. Care has to be taken here! We arrived back at our vans eleven hours later, treated to an incredible sunset over the Richardson Mountains across the lake. Grateful, stoked, and ready to consume a generous portion of food. Happy days... A beautiful end to a long day

Date:  July 15, 2024 Location: The Remarkables, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 7.56 mi / 12.16 km Total Elevation Gain: 2,750 ft / 838 m Trip Duration: 10 hr 36 min Team:  Henry Frakes Field Notes: The Grand Traverse is considered "one of the finest alpine days in the country" and it lived up to expectations. We encountered challenging conditions and used the rope to pitch the crux sections of Double Cone until we finally stood on the summit. For the climb we carried a 60 meter rope, a set of cams and nuts. Rating:  II, 2+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Remarkables Grand Traverse Route Topo As winter dragged on in the Southern Alps without much snow to work with, Henry and I tossed around a few ideas. I still hadn’t done the Grand Traverse and was very keen to do so. Henry had done it a few times already so I was pumped when he said yes to the idea. It was a brutally cold morning. I was up at 4 am, brewing coffee, peering out at the stars from my van and preparing for the climb. We met at the base of Remarks and drove up a quarter of the way when Henry said, “oh shit, I forgot my helmet.” Figuring he might need that we turned around. We started the climb at 8am and post holed up to the helipad. The snow was pretty terrible and it was hard not to be negative to see a ski field with so little snow. I am very happy I decided not to buy a season pass. From the helipad the actual climbing began. The temperature decided to turn from very cold to very nice. The sun was out and the sky a blue-ish hue. We traversed slightly below the ridge for awhile and then busted out the rope. The climbing was easy, however, sections of easy scrambling were now covered by small amounts of snow on rock. Henry, being the stronger climber, lead the crux sections. The climbing was fun and the scenery spectacular. We were just two small figures moving alone on an alpine ridge. As the hours passed by, clouds formed and wind rose as we neared the north summit of Double Cone. On top, we rapped down to the col between the Double Cone summits. Here came the crux. From the guidebook description, the route seems to sidle the ridge. With the snow cover, that wasn’t an option so we climbed directly up the ridge. I was surprised at some of the moves and how sustained the climbing was. When I got up to Henry at the top of the pitch, I questioned whether this was actually a “2+.” He felt like it was probably harder given it was winter and how poor the snow conditions were. Grand Traverse Glory It was getting late in the day and the wind had decided to blow - I was cold. We hadn’t done a proper job with hydration and eating. It was one of those keep moving type of days. At the top of the southern summit of Double Cone we looked across at the traverse to Single Cone. I was stoked to actually use my ice axe. The ridge looked airy and fun. The sun was making its colorful descent as we popped up to the top of Single Cone. We snapped a few photos and began the series of rappels off the peak. Like many epic days in the hills, we arrived back at the car with headlamps on. The whole climb had taken us a few ticks over ten and a half hours. Unfortunately, I left my ice axe somewhere after the rappels off Single Cone (if anyone finds it let me know), but it didn’t dampen my mood in the slightest. The Grand Traverse was something I had wanted to do for quite awhile, especially in winter, and it did not disappoint in the slightest. Happy days...

Date:  July 3 - 5, 2024 Location: Kepler Mountains, Te Anau, Fiordland National Park, Southland, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 34.21 mi / 55 km Total Elevation Gain : 6,607 ft / 2,014 m Trip Duration: 3 days Team:  Chris Churcher Field Notes: There is much written already about the Kepler Track as it is one of the most popular walks in New Zealand. Chris and I decided to jump at the opportunity of walking the track in winter with a perfect weather forecast. For three days we enjoyed solitude, empty huts, an inversion layer, and cold, calm weather. A great experience for my first ever trip in Fiordland. Rating:  Hiking Download GPX File Google Maps Location Kepler Track Route Topo Takitimu Mountains from Mount Luxmore The Kepler Mountains from Mount Luxmore Happy days...

Date:  June 26 - 27, 2024 Location: Motatapu / Soho Station, Crown Range, Wanaka, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 17.77 mi / 28.59 km Total Elevation Gain : 6,956 ft / 2120 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: Fern Burn makes for a pleasant overnight destination on this route, otherwise it's a big day. To climb Middle Peak, take the obvious leading ridge directly behind the hut and follow it south towards Pt 1792. Head east over Pt 1810 and summit Middle Peak. Continue along the ridge over Pt 1752 and ending at Pt 1650. Take the ridge down to the stream, eventually climbing in a northerly direction out of the stream to avoid scrub. Drop back to the stream at any convenient location, fight some scrub and end at the hut. Rating:  Hiking / tramping, off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Happy days...

Date:  June 8, 2024 Location: Twenty Five Mile Range, Whakaari Conservation Area, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 12 mi / 19.3 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,750 ft / 1,750 m Trip Duration: 8 hours Team:  Solo Field Notes: An excellent route to a remote peak in the Queenstown area without a soul in sight. Follow the 4wd track until crossing Moke Creek and veering left to climb the obvious scrub free spur. Unbeknownst to myself, this route is called "Moke Spur" and is marked by a few orange poles. The route ends at roughly 820 meters. Continue up the obvious ridge until it tops out near Point 1495. Head north to Point 1599 until dropping into a basin where there is fresh water. Climb up and sidle northwest past Point 1799 to gain the summit ridge. Rating:  Hiking / tramping, off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Ben More Route Topo I had my eye on Ben More ever since I climbed Mount Hanley a few months back. That day was relatively uninspiring, but Ben More really caught my eye. A theme one would notice with this blog is that I enjoy climbing mountains that seem obscure or out of the way. From my research, I couldn't find any information about Ben More which made it all the more appealing. With a perfect weather forecast I headed out to Moke Lake. Although there isn't much snow at the moment, it sure feels like winter. The temperatures briefly touched freezing overnight and I was glad to have paid an electrician to install a diesel heater in the van. There was a blanket of low cloud at camp and it looked to be a day above the clouds. A frosty morning along the Moonlight Track Around eight in the morning I left the campground and followed the 4wd track up Moke Creek. After trying to unsuccessfully hop across the creek I soaked my boots and socks and somehow found the courage to soldier on. Jokes aside, it is depressing to get your feet completely wet in the first fifteen minutes. As I climbed the spur I noticed something orange sticking out of the ground - a pole! I looked uphill and spotted another one. This caught me by surprise because I didn't think there was any route up here. I followed the poles upward in the same way that I had planned the route. Abruptly, the route ended at 820 meters. I continued on, following the obvious ridge to Point 1495. Near PT 1599, Ben More is just visible behind PT 1799 which is covered in ice At the top of the ridge I had my first view of Ben More. My heart sank a bit. I left the spikes in the car not thinking I would need them. Mainly, I didn't want to carry the extra weight. As I looked towards the peak, there seemed to be some snow and potentially icy sections. There was only one way to find out. I followed the broad ridge and soaked in the perfect views of the Twenty Five Mile Range. The morning was absolutely perfect. Blue skies, no wind, and totally above the clouds. The scenery was brilliant. Once I reached Point 1599 I still wasn't optimistic. I couldn't tell if there was ice build up along the slopes toward the peak. It's so funny how the mind wants the easy option and to pack it in. No chance and laughed at the thought. From my vantage point, the easiest option to gain the summit ridge was to drop into the basin below, climb out, and sidle past Point 1799. This would add another three hundred odd meters to my day, which I looked at as extra training for the bigger days. I dropped into the basin below, drank some fresh mountain water, and headed upwards. This was a day I could've gone for hours and hours. I thanked my body for continuing to stick with me all of these years. It still blows me away just how far I've come from being virtually disabled for so many years and how much more room I have for growth. Once out of the basin I realized that conditions were totally fine. In hindsight, I still should've had a pair of light spikes, but I was relieved that this was going to turn into a new summit. It's always funny how the perspective from which one views terrain is so critically important. At certain angles, the mountain looks casual. From other vantage points, it looks impossible to climb! To this point, I remember back in November when I climbed Mount Barth. From the bivy rocks, I thought the face looked pretty casual. When I got there, I measured what I thought was the steepest part of the face. It turned out to be fifty degrees! Pretty steep without a rope. Gaining the summit ridge of a mountain in perfect weather above the clouds is a feeling that will never, ever get old. The Richardson Mountains exploded skyward while the East Peak of Mount Earnslaw poked out in the distance. The view from the summit was spectacular. Without a breath of wind, I basked in the glory atop the perfect peak. From left to right: Major Peak, Stone Peak, Mount Larkins, Mount Butement To the east lay Bowen Peak and Ben Lomond, which on a day like today, most likely saw at least one hundred trampers. Who can blame them? To the north lay the chain of the Richardson Mountains, one of my favorite mountain ranges. Minor Peak, Major Peak, Stone Peak, Larkins, and Butement. In the far back, Centaur Peaks. I love tramping as much as I love backcountry skiing and as much as I love mountaineering. Each of these buckets provides there own sense of adventure and a different way to explore the mountains. Climbing Ben More, although not a major mission by any means, is just as fulfilling as the bigger, more committing climbs. Craigellachie center image Forty five minutes later I decided it was time to head down. I retraced my steps, smashed down the spur, and arrived back at the van to a very cold late afternoon. The day ended with a hot shower back in Queenstown. Happy days...

Date:  May 30, 2024 Location: Lake Hāwea, Grandview Mountain Range, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  11.17 mi / 18 km Total Elevation Gain : 3,349 ft / 1,021 m Trip Duration: 4 hr 51 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: A beautiful walk in a quieter park of the Wanaka Region. Amazing views over Aspiring and the Grandview Range. Rating:  Hiking / trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Grandview Mountain Route Topo Happy days...

Date:  May 27, 2024 Location: Lake Hāwea, Matatiaho Conservation Area, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  10.23 mi / 16.5 km Total Elevation Gain : 4,012 ft / 1,222 m Trip Duration: 5 hours Team:  Solo Field Notes: A poled route from the parking lot leads to a simple 4wd track up the mountain. Incredible views over Aspiring, the Makarora, and Hāwea Conservation Park. Expect to see a lot of people. Rating:  Hiking / trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Isthmus Peak Route Topo Happy days...

Date:  May 14 - 15 , 2024 Location: Hāwea Conservation Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  19.68 / 31.67 km Total Elevation Gain : 8,745 ft / 2,665 m Trip Duration: 2 Days Team:  Solo Field Notes: This is a fantastic route over two peaks with a stay at a remote hut stocked with firewood. Travel up Lower Timaru River Track until one reaches Junction Hut. From here, take the obvious scrub free spur and join the ridge at 780 meters. Travel north along this ridge over Points 1073, 1317, and 1414 until eventually dropping roughly 400 meters to Moonlight and Roses Hut. From the hut, climb tussock slopes in a northwesterly direction until crossing over the ridge at 1600 meters. Climb to a saddle between Dingle Peak and Point 1739, then climb the easy northeasterly ridge. For Corner Peak, follow the entire west ridge down to the saddle between the two peaks and follow the simple tussock slopes up to the summit. Take the Corner Peak route back to the car. There is no water beyond the hut. Rating:  Hiking / tramping, mainly off track Download GPX File Google Maps Location Dingle Peak and Corner Peak Route Topo When I had climbed Ben Lomond the other week with my friend Liam under a spell of beautiful weather, I swore it would be the last trip for a month. I'm following my nose lately with surfing as this is prime season for it. The mountains, on the other hand, are going through a transition season. With all of this said, I saw a beautiful forecast line up in Wanaka and the town webcam showed me that the mountains around Hawea were still snow free. So I packed my bags... Corner Peak (left) and Dingle Peak (right). The traverse follows the skyline ridge. I was indecisive about whether I should take the Timaru High route or Lower route. I settled on the river route and guessed that I’d be able to dry my boots at the hut. Plus, it would save me significant elevation gain. I’ve never been fond of river travel and this didn’t change my mind. I feel like it’s difficult to get into a flow. It didn’t help that I tried to avoid getting my boots wet the first twenty minutes until I eventually caved and trudged through the crossings. This is easily the simplest way. Just go. I reached Junction Hut and decided it was time for a snack before I began my climbing for the day. Then, as if I was transported back to the times of Moses, sand flies descended upon me in ravenous fashion. It actually reminded me of being deep in the West Coast. I decided it actually wasn’t time for a snack and marched straight uphill. Once I gained the ridge towards Point 1414 I did indeed stop for a snack - a delicious sandwich with sourdough bread. It was deathly quiet. I hadn’t seen a soul. No cars in the parking lot either. The air was light, cold, and crisp. I marched onward towards Point 1414, sticking true to the ridge the entire time. There was a bit of light bush bashing to navigate, but by sticking directly on the ridge I was able to follow deer trails. I broke out of the trees and got a magnificent view of the ridge ahead and Dingle Peak. For a few hours I bobbed and weaved along the ridge, steadily gaining elevation. In the late afternoon a breeze picked up and layers were added to the body. Winter is on its way. By this point I had enough of climbing and decided to sidle east of Point 1414 and dropped quickly to Moonlight and Roses Hut. How happy I was to see it. There was no way anyone would be here. I opened the door and immediately came to the conclusion I was dead wrong. Gear was strewn everywhere and it looked as if all four bunks were taken. I sat down on a chair and thought about how miserable my night was going to be on the floor without a sleeping pad. I decided to get the fire roaring and eat before the hunters got back. As the sun set, darkness settled in and I wondered if the hunters would return. Around six-thirty, two headlamps approached the hut. I opened the door and met the father and son combo - Greg and Charlie. To my relief it was just the two of them, which meant I was able to have a bunk. Happy days! They apologized for the mess, which didn’t actually bother me. I was concerned about getting a mattress! They didn’t think anyone would be here and neither did I. Assumptions are the death of truth. One of the highlights of staying in huts are the people you meet. Greg and Charlie were two fantastic blokes. From the North Island raised in a rural environment. Charlie currently drives tractors and Greg a veterinarian. They have a deep respect for animals and you could tell how humble they both were. That night I slept like a barnyard animal. Morning wasn’t too cold but I stoked the fire anyways. Coffee went down the pipe along with some hot oatmeal. At seven-thirty I launched into the alpine. Up I went. Light slowly entered the atmosphere, perspiration gathered at the brow and stars receded. Within an hour I had climbed five hundred meters and sidled into the basin below Dingle Peak at 1,600 meters. From the southeasterly perspective, Dingle Peak looks formidable. I reached the saddle between Dingle and Point 1739 and began climbing the east ridge. Peaks of the Makarora Two hours since leaving the hut I stood atop the peak and the views were phenomenal. What caught my eye was Maungatika - a peak I imagine is rarely climbed. The views out toward the upper Makarora and the Aspiring Region were just insane. Sometimes I wish I still had my nice Sony camera… After a long break atop the summit I headed West towards Corner Peak. It took one hour to reach the saddle between the two mountains and from there maybe forty-five minutes to stand atop my second summit for the day. This summit is also spectacular. There was also a terrific view of Sentinel Peak as well. The summit of Corner Peak There wasn’t a breath of wind on the summit so I decided to get out the stove and brew a cup of coffee. There was a three hour descent coming my way and wanted to add as much fuel to the tank as possible. I slugged the coffee and began my march back to the car park. Day two turned out to be an eight and a half hour day. This trip actually surprised me with how physically challenging it was. For example, you climb significantly more elevation doing this trip than the towering Brewster out in the distance. New Zealand doesn’t really have any “easy” mountains to climb after all. Happy days…

Date:  April 29, 2024 Location: Richardson Mountains, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  7.19 mi / 11.57 km Total Elevation Gain : 4,784 ft / 1,458 m Trip Duration: 5 hours Team:  Solo Field Notes: An excellent walk with fantastic access directly off the Glenorchy Queenstown road. You can see the summit from the parking lot. Park at Lake Face Creek Falls trailhead, walk across the street, and head straight uphill doing your best to avoid the scrub between 700 and 950 meters. Take the northwest ridge to the summit. Rating:  1, I Download GPX File Google Maps Location Minor Peak Route Topo Minor Peak Route from the road With the new snow beginning to fall and winter approaching, I sought out a trip where I could still get up relatively high. Minor Peak seemed like a quick trip in comparison to others and it would also give me the opportunity to scout out the route for Stone Peak. I parked at Lake Face Creek trailhead and stared up the at the 1,768 meter summit which can be viewed directly from the road. It was a perfect autumn day. There was not a cloud in the sky and as I began climbing up the ridge I realized I wasn't wearing my sunglasses. Rather than walk three minutes back to the car I continued uphill. A few frightened sheep later and I hit the scrub at roughly 800 meters. This is totally avoidable by sidling south, however, there are ankle high thorn bushes to deal with and it's better to just pick a route through the scrub. Once through this short section of bush, travel is fast. I gained the summit ridge in just over two hours and the views of Stone Peak, Mount Larkins, and Major Peak are sensational. Stone Peak, Sentinel, Larkins As I looked up at Major Peak I asked myself a very sincere question: is this skied from the summit? From my initial research I haven't found any information online (which is typical of New Zealand mountains). But I've climbed that face before and think it could make for a fantastic ski mountaineering mission. As I reached the final steps to the summit of Minor Peak I couldn't help but feel a pulse of excitement through my veins for the upcoming winter season. There is so much to do here in New Zealand we are beyond blessed. This will be my first ski mountaineering season here and am looking forward to exploring the mountains with planks attached to my feet. Happy days...

Date:  April 5, 2024 Location: Walls of Jerusalem National Park, Tasmania, Australia Total Trip Distance:  13.37 mi / 21.51 km Total Elevation Gain : 3,673 ft / 1,119 m Trip Duration: 6 hours 55 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: A nice walk through beautiful country. Most of the elevation is gained on the approach and the peaks hardly require any climbing. There are nice campsites in this area. Rating: Hiking, trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Solomon's Throne & The Temple Route Topo Happy days...

Date:  April 9, 2024 Location: Mount Roland Regional Reserve, Sheffield, Tasmania, Australia Total Trip Distance:  10.84 mi / 17.45 km Total Elevation Gain : 3,201 ft / 975 m Trip Duration: 5 hours 30 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: Mount Roland is a fantastic walk through stunning Tasmanian forest and a 360 degree summit with views of mountains and the ocean. Rating: Hiking, trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mount Roland Route Topo Happy days...

Date:  March 13, 2024 Location: Twenty Five Mile Range, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  9.59 mi / 15.43 km Total Elevation Gain : 4,512 ft / 1,375 m Trip Duration: 6 hours 15 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: Take the track around Moke Lake until one reaches the southern end of the lake. Find a sheeps trail that climbs directly up a spur to reach the top of Williamsons Spur at roughly 1300 meters. From here, follow the spur until it joins the east ridge of Mount Hanley. Climb up and over Point 1572 and scramble up to the summit of Mount Hanley. There is some moderate exposure to reach the summit. Moke Lake Campsite is an incredible place to spend a night. Rating: Hiking / tramping, off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mount Hanley Route Topo Happy days...

Date:  February 21-22, 2024 Location: Richardson Mountains, Whakaari Conservation Area, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  19.07 mi / 30.69 km Total Elevation Gain : 7,481 ft / 2,280 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team:  Manuel Freudenmann Field Notes: Larkins is likely best climbed with a base camp from either Heather Jock Hut or Kelly's Hut . The route over Mount Alaska is stunning yet could prove difficult in navigating avalanche terrain in winter. Snow often lingers on Larkins until late summer. Rating:  1, I Download GPX File Google Maps Location Mount Alaska, Larkins Route Topo Map I found myself climbing yet another peak in the Richardson Mountains. A short drive from Queenstown with easy access and low numbers of travelers has me question why this area is not more popular. Whakaari Conservation Area I pulled into the trailhead quite late, packed my things, and headed up to stay at Heather Jock Hut. By the time I left my van it was past 7pm. The walk in was a gentle grade and I enjoyed watching the sun make its final dip below the Humboldt Mountains. The joy of this trip came in meeting Manuel Fredenmann. A well traveled, open-minded, and artistic traveler. He also had intentions to climb Larkins which would make this his highest peak ever climbed. We had a stimulating conversation in the hut and make intentions to be up early to climb Larkins together. Manuel shook me awake at 5:45 and I had coffee brewing in no time. By 6:15 we were out of the hut and making our way up Mount Alaska. The sun made its ritual climb from the east and the colors that greeted us were spectacular. Being that Manuel is a professional photographer and that I do love photography myself, we couldn't help but capture these fleeting moments. Manuel on the summit of Mount Alaska The summit of Alaska was arguably the highlight of the day with stunning colors in all directions. Manuel and I were completely stoked. The mountains provide magic moments and this was one of them. Tearing ourselves away we continued on to Larkins. The terrain felt slow moving as we climbed up and down along the ridge, sidling difficulties as they came. Eventually we reached Kelly's Hut which meant we only had 450 meters of climbing left. We grinded up scree, took a left at the summit plateau, and stood atop the 2,300 meter peak four hours since leaving the hut. Manuel summiting Larkins The wind decided it would blow a rather stiff breeze so we ducked behind the summit for shelter and enjoyed a meal in the sun. At this point we decided it would be good if we knew each others names! From Larkins I could see both Black Peak and Major Peak, two excellent trips. After resting for thirty minutes and taking a few final photographs, we headed back down to the hut. We decided to find an alternate route back to the hut and were able to find an old mining route on the east side of Mount Alaska. Back at the hut I said goodbye to Manuel and took a snooze in the hut. In the late afternoon I strolled back down to the car for a burger in Glenorchy. Happy days... Heather Jock Hut

Date:  January 30, 2024 Location: Richardson Mountains, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  9.73 mi / 15.6 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,873 ft / 1,790 m Trip Duration: 7 hours Team:  Solo Field Notes: A fun scramble with fantastic access directly off the Glenorchy Queenstown road. Park at Lake Creek Creek Falls trailhead and follow the orange poled route directly up the ridge. Continue up the ridge beyond the fence line. Sidle into the Basin at roughly 1,620 meters. Climb the diagonal ledge across the face that leads to a moderate rock scramble to reach the summit. Seasonal conditions will dictate how challenging the upper face will be. Rating:  1, I Download GPX File Google Maps Location Major Peak Route Topo The last two weeks in Queenstown have been wet, cold, and windy. I was pleased to see a good spell of weather line up and decided on climbing Major Peak off the Queenstown Glenorchy road. The access for this climb is great. I parked at Lake Face Creek trailhead and headed directly up the spur on the true right of the creek. To my surprise there was a solid trail and poled route that led up the ridgeline. There was virtually no scrub and travel was fast. With a super light pack I made fast time and enjoyed the feeling of being light on my feet. I started very early in the morning and the stillness and soft light of early morning is always a gift. After climbing non-stop for 1,000 meters I decided I'd take a quick break and eat my first meal of the day. The views across Lake Whakatipu to the Humboldt, Ailsa, and Thomson mountain ranges was amazing. It's mind blowing just how many mountains there are in New Zealand. I kept moving and at 1,620 meters sidled into the Basin, five hundred meters below the summit. From here the route seemed obvious. I would take the diagonal leading ledge across the face and scramble to the top. I popped on my helmet and began to work up the face. Major Peak Summit Route The climb was never that steep until the final thirty meters or so were I encountered moderately steep but easy rock. I arrived on the summit exactly three and a half hours since leaving the car. The views from the summit were spectacular. I particularly enjoyed the view north towards Wire Saddle, Stone Peak, and Mount Larkins. I relaxed on the summit for about thirty minutes, eventually tearing myself away. Care had to be taken off the summit as there was a bit of loose rock. Larger parties may want a helmet as I did kick off a rock or two. It was relatively quick work back down to the car and I finished the day with a lovely cold soak in Lake Face Creek. Happy days... Minor Peak, Lake Whakatipu, and the Thomson Mountains

Date:  February 16, 2024 Location: Hāwea Conservation Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  10.4 mi / 16.7 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,673 ft / 1,729 m Trip Duration: 7 hours 37 min Team:  Natalya Lucas Field Notes: Take the sawyer burn track until about 900 meters in elevation where a beautiful route up the south ridge leads to a basin directly below the summit of Sentinel Peak. A cairned scree gully gives easy access to the summit ridge. There is no water en route. Rating: Hiking / tramping, off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Sentinel Peak Route Topo Map For the last few weeks I've been fortunate to spend time with a beautiful person I met in Wanaka after climbing in the Barrier Range. Since that moment, I've quit my job and moved into a van to pursue my thirst for adventure and take a significant amount of time away from work. Natalya and I planned a 3-day trip to test out of the van and I decided we should head up Sentinel Peak, just across the street from our campsite. Sentinel stands like a guardian over Lake Wanaka and Hāwea. Early morning at Lake Hāwea above Kidds Bush We woke up to a beautiful sunrise, made coffee, did some yoga, and headed up the mountain. I was surprised to see Natalya getting off to a hot start as I told her we had a good 1,700 meter climb ahead of us. On the other hand, she is fit and I was carrying all of the gear so maybe I needed to pick up the slack! We climbed higher and higher and the views were simply stunning. We left the trail and began to head up the south ridge of Sentinel. At this point Natalya was feeling the grind of the relentless climb but she soldiered on. We moved along the ridge with the views becoming more expansive at every moment. At last we reached the basin below the summit. It was pretty obvious which gully to climb up and at the top we got our first views to the North. The views were absolutely sensational. The northern ranges of Hāwea are not the tallest, but they are beautiful and spark the desire to explore these lesser visited peaks. A short walk along the ridge and we stood atop the peak. I was super proud of Natalya as it was the biggest climb she has ever done. Not to mention, it only took us three and a half hours to reach the summit. It was a special moment to share a summit with someone I cared about in the romantic sense. That was a first for me. We relaxed on the summit for an hour enjoying the views and solitude. Eventually it was time to leave as we did have a two hour drive back to Queenstown. The walk down hammered us both and we were frothing to jump in cold Lake Hāwea. At the bottom our minds were finally at ease in the cold water. Natalya came up with the brilliant idea of pizza so we headed to Wanaka to fulfill that vision. This trip was one of my favorites of the year - stunning views, excellent company, and a beautiful route. Happy days...

Date:  February 4, 2024 Location: Richardson Mountains, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  11.55 mi / 18.59 km Total Elevation Gain : 5,900 ft / 1,798 meters Trip Duration: 5 hours 57 min Team:  Solo Field Notes: Although this is not a place to go if one is looking for solitude, the views are spectacular. Bowen Peak offers a chance to escape some of the crowds with an easy walk from Ben Lomond Saddle. I did, however, share the summit with a helicopter dropping off some bikers! Rating: Hiking, trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Ben Lomond and Bowen Peak Route Topo Happy days...

Date:  January 1 - 4, 2024 Location: Barrier Range, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  35.52 mi / 57.16 km Total Elevation Gain : 9,240 ft / 2,816 m Trip Duration: 4 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: The Barrier Range is one of the most stunning ranges I have ever laid eyes on. Two days of travel is typically required to reach the alpine with very strong navigation skills. The crux of the trip is route finding once across the wire bridge at Daley's Flat. There is a natural rock bridge 80 meters above the Dart that allows easy travel across the Margaret Burn (location on map). Finding this rock bridge is critical. From here, a 500 meter bushwhack gives way to an open ridge line. Tarns and spectacular camp spots are at 1,540 meters. To summit Johansen, climb the SW face and then sidle east to bypass the summit ridge to avoid false summits. Scramble up exposed rock on the SE ridge to reach the true summit. Rating:  II, 1+ Download GPX File Google Maps Location Johansen Peak, Barrier Range Route Topo. The pin indicates the location of the rock bridge. Just two days after climbing Mount Aurum I found myself heading up the Dart Valley. The weather forecast was giving me three very solid days of high pressure and I knew that this was realistically my only chance to visit the Barrier Range over the next year. Sometimes when opportunity strikes you find yourself surprised by how quickly it comes. This is the beauty of riding the wave of life. The Dart Valley is a huge contrast to the Rees side. The Dart River is massive, fed by the huge glaciers of the Whitbourn, Hesse, and Dart. The Rees River you can drive, bike, or walk through. When I went to climb Mount Clarke I loved biking up the wide open valley. In contrast, as I made my way up the Dart it was a series of ups and downs, spending much time in the forests. Looking into the Beans Burn It was about 17.5 km's to reach my first destination of the trip, Daley's Flat Hut. My pack was the heaviest it had been in a very long time. Two ice axes, crampons, helmet, mountaineering boots, shelter, and four days of food. There was no way to go lightweight on this one. I broke up the approach into a series of one to one and a half hour stops so that I didn't burn myself out as days two and three would be much bigger. After five hours on the dot I arrived at Daley's Flat Hut and was surprised to only see a few folks there, being New Years on the popular Rees-Dart track. The people that were there, however, were a real treat to be around. For most trips I do, I almost always have the hut to myself and I love the solitude. But it was great to share a hut with some new folks. One person I really enjoyed speaking to was Ryan from Florida. We both shared a passion for maps, adventures, health, and life. It was a pleasure to meet him. I had a leisurely morning before I began the climb to reach the Barrier Range. I figured it would be another five hour day and saw no point rushing out. I shared a nice morning with Ryan and his wife, excited to hear about their additional travel plans in New Zealand. They made their way out of the hut around ten and I followed soon after, butterflies in my stomach. Ryan and his wife leaving Daleys Flat Hut To be honest, the scariest part of the trip was crossing the wire bridge above the Dart! God bless the people who put that in. As soon as I crossed the wire bridge there is nothing but forest. I had spent months of research on this route and it was time to make it happen. I headed in a northerly direction and looked for a deer trail that would lead me to the natural rock bridge. A bushwhack through stunning beech forest I didn't find much of a deer trail but made my way through the bush for about thirty minutes and landed directly on the rock bridge. Stoked! I will make a note here: finding this rock bridge is critical as I'm not sure how one would be able to get across the Margaret Burn without it. Feeling more confident, I found a very solid deer trail that took me directly up through the forest for about three hundred meters. This was not bad at all! Then reality struck as it always does in the hills. The deer trail ended and I met some pretty heinous scrub and terrain. I'm not sure how to describe this, but there were huge holes and chasms in the mountain side that would lead to dead ends. My parents would be so disappointed to hear the words that were coming out of my mouth! Finally, I broke out of the scrub and reached tussock slopes at the 1,100 meter mark. I continued to make my way upwards, feeling drained and dehydrated. The terrain was much easier now and I was waiting for my first view of the Barrier Range that I have dreamed about for so long. Tussock gave way to rock and at 1500 meters I was in another planet. What lay in front of me was arguably the most spectacular group of mountains I have ever laid eyes on. The peaks of the Barrier Range combined with the gnarly Margaret Glacier looked formidable. Two days of hard work and I felt very much rewarded. The mighty Barrier Range. Albert Peak, Gino, Watkins, Steffanson and Desperation Pass I set up a camp out of the wind and took a spectacular swim in the nearby alpine tarn. This was a campsite of dreams. I hung out in my sleeping bag, drinking tea and admiring the view when I heard voices in the distance. No way I thought... people? Sure enough, three women came bounding up over the ridge and right into camp. I was barefoot just laying in my sleeping bag and they literally thought I came up here like that as my tent was out of sight! Hilarious. That night I went to bed early as my plan was to be up for sunrise. My alarm rang at five and I quickly gathered my things, made a coffee, and set out for the climb. The morning was of the Gods. Perfection. Calm. Alpenglow baked the peaks. I'll allow the photos to speak for themselves. My goal was to climb Johansen first, than head down to Seal Col, then bag Stefansson and Watkins. I gained the snowfields below Johansen and worked my up the southwest face. The snow was perfect and the morning stunning. I was pinching myself. At the top of the southwest face I followed the broad ridge up to the summit plateau. From here it seemed an easy walk to the summit. A few final steps and I shouted out in excitement as I thought I reached the top, however, when I reached the peak I realized it was a false summit! I looked further along the ridge and there was a point that was definitely higher, with some very exposed climbing to reach it. SW Face of Johansen Peak, steeper than it looks but an easy climb nonetheless In that very moment I thought about just accepting where I was but something inside of me urged to keep exploring. I down climbed the ridge and then sidled along to the east. I had a look at the true summit and the climbing seemed exposed, again my mind convinced me this was good enough . I knew I would regret this if I did not keep pushing, there was absolutely no reason to turn around. I sidled under the summit and began to climb the southeast ridge. Scree gave way to steep ledges but the rock was surprisingly very solid and enjoyable to climb. Once above the ledges, I gained a narrow and exposed ridge that took me directly to the summit. From here I let out of a shout of joy - I couldn't believe it. I had dreamed of climbing in the Barrier Range ever since I came across photos of this place so many years ago. Here I was, in perfect weather, in complete solitude, on a lofty summit. Dreams are the seedlings of reality. - Napoleon Hill After hanging out on the summit for thirty minutes or so, I decided to keep moving. I down climbed the ridge and put crampons back on. It was nine in the morning and the snow was completely isothermic. Being that I was on a southeast aspect and to climb Steffanson required me to climb steep southeast facing slopes, I decided to call it a day. Personally, I didn't really care. I was stoked to bag Johansen and knew that anything besides that was a bonus. In an hour I was back at camp, beaming. The girls congratulated me on the successful summit and it was nice to share our successful journeys with each other. It was dope to see three badass chicks getting after it in the peaks. They were on one hell of a mission. It was also good they ran into me because I was able to give them the beta on how to find the rock bridge on their GPS (even though they would have found it anyways). I went back to camp, had breakfast, packed up and left. A storm was coming in and there was no point lingering. That night I slept in a fully packed Daleys Hut. The following morning I put one foot in front of the other for five hours and reached the end of the trip, exhausted and excited to pay a visit to Miss Woollys. Happy days...

Date:  December 27 - 29, 2023 Location: Richardson Mountains, Mount Aurum Recreation Reserve, Queenstown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  22.19 mi / 35.7 km Total Elevation Gain : 6,778 ft / 2,066 m Trip Duration: 3 days Team:  Solo Field Notes: The Mount Aurum Reserve is stunning and the view from the summit top notch. Archie's Hut is nestled right below Mount Aurum and Bullendale Hut has an open fire place. Once past both huts there is no track. Mount Aurum is a straightforward scramble when following the correct route. Prepare to have wet feet on the approach up Skippers Creek. Vehicle clearance is strongly advised to reach the trailhead. Rating:  1, I Download GPX File Google Maps Location Happy days...

Date:  January 18, 2024 Location: Tapuae-o-Uenuku / Hector Mountains, Kingston, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance:  7.35 mi / 11.82 km Total Elevation Gain : 4,084 ft / 1,244 m Trip Duration: 4 hours Team:  Solo Field Notes: A perfect training hike and / or if you're looking to find solitude. The trail is accessed via Glen Nevis Station Road which is suitable for all vehicles. There is parking at the DOC sign and the trail follows a 4wd track until the 1,150 meter contour. From here, follow the fence line directly the summit. The views over the Hector Mountains, Lake Wakatipu, and the Eyre Mountains are fantastic. Rating: Hiking, trail, basic off trail Download GPX File Google Maps Location Lorn Peak Route Topo The Hector Mountains from Lorn Peak Happy days...

Date: October 23, 2023 Location: Arrowtown, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 11.19 mi / 18 km Total Elevation Gain : 4,179 ft / 1,274 m Trip Duration: 5 hours 20 min Team: Solo Field Notes: A stunning hike that climbs straight up through golden tussock and along a ridge line with spectacular views in all directions. Plenty of water en route except for the tops. I did this route going clockwise and would recommend the same. Happy days... Download GPX File Google Maps Location Brow Peak and Big Hill Route Topo

Date: October 18-19, 2023 Location: Richardson Mountains, Whakaari Conservation Area, Glenorchy, Otago, New Zealand Total Trip Distance: 16.4 mi / 26.39 km Total Elevation Gain : 7,520 ft / 2,292 m Trip Duration: 2 days Team: Solo Field Notes: One could complete this in a very long day but I opted to stay in the beautiful McIntosh Hut, perched 1,000 meters above the valley floor. From here, the hut gives easy access to the slopes of Black Peak. I ascended the easy wind scoured west ridge until it met the summit ridge. From here, it was an exposed scramble needing axe and crampons (early season). Rating: 1, I Download GPX File Google Maps Location McIntosh Hut and Black Peak Route Topo A dream has finally materialized and I am back in New Zealand. So many years of patience, focus, determination and training has gotten me back to a point where I can climb these mountains again. I am home. In typical New Zealand fashion, the weather has been pretty awful my first week here. The avalanche rating was high and the idea of going after anything above 2,000 meters was a no in my decision making process. The storm dropped a meter of snow above 2,000 meters with strong winds so I opted for something "smaller." There really are no "small" mountains in New Zealand, but relative to the other peaks around. For my first trip back I decided on Black Peak in Glenorchy. I made the hypothesis that with the strong Westerly winds that came with the storm the ascent would be mainly snow free and avalanche hazard low. Secondly, there was a hut to spend the night in and if Black Peak was off, I would have a backup option to scramble up Mount McIntosh. Off I went under bluebird skies on a perfect Wednesday afternoon. I arrived at the trailhead, parked my car, and then walked down the road towards Glenorchy across the bridge. Once across the bridge, I picked up a track through the bush indicated by a piece of flagging tape. From here it was about a four hour slog to the hut following a farming fence line indicated by orange markers. I forgot how steep New Zealand farm country is. As I followed the track, the views immediately opened up of the Humboldt Range - Bold Peak and Mount Bonpland towered above. All of the peaks were coated in a fresh coat of white. Stunning Temple Peak I arrived at the hut just under four hours. I began my cool down ritual of stretching, hydration, a recovery drink, protein, and some breath work. Everything was still. No one was around. McIntosh Hut is an older miners hut and there are still remnants of those that lived here many years ago. As I lay in the top bunk, I drifted into a state of half awake half asleep. Almost hypnotic. I felt I could've slept for fourteen hours but instead it was just one. It was 7pm and time for dinner and sunset. The view from the top bunk I made dinner and sat outside in the fading sun. The light went golden and out came the camera. It felt great to be back in these hills. McIntosh Hut and the Humboldt Range I woke up the next morning around 4:30. There is a distinct difference in sleep quality when in a hut vs a tent. Knowing I needed to burn a few hours before first light, I fired up the stove to have some coffee. I light the candles and enjoyed the pre-dawn solitude. At first light, I slipped into my mountaineering boots and plodded North to the slopes of Black Peak. It was easy going even though I post-holed a bit through crusty snow. The track follows an old miners road. Once at the base of Black Peak, I gained the mostly snow free west Ridge of the peak and plodded straight up to the false summit. At the top, the final 20 meters proved to be the crux and I'm very glad I brought crampons and an ice axe. The summit ridge was an exposed and airy corniced ridge. A fall to the left would be very bad, a fall to the right could potentially set off the cornice and an avalanche. I put on crampons, grabbed my axe, and chose to stick to the climbers left to avoid the cornice and the wind loaded easterly slopes. The summit ridge of Black Peak Two fun and exciting minutes later I stood alone on the summit of Black Peak. The views were fantastic. Mount Earnslaw and Mount Tutoko dominated the skyline. I spotted Mount Alaska, Mount Larkins, Temple Peak, Turret Head, Somnus, Momus...endless!!! I didn't stay too long as the summit was very cold and windy. I made my way back across the ridge to the false summit and took off my crampons. I kept my axe handy and made my way over the snow covered portions of the mountain. I chose to glissade down the peak and was at the bottom in about 10 minutes. Happy days! My tracks in the perfect morning light I made quick work back to the hut, refueled, packed my things, and made the three hour romp back to the car park. It was a stunning afternoon and a stunning end to a perfect trip. Thank you to everyone who helped me get back here. I was totally buzzing. The trip ended in typical fashion - a cold plunge in Lake Wakatipu and a delicious smoked pork sandwich (and banana bread) from Mrs Woolly's General Store. All I can say is... happy days...