Death Valley

No, not THAT Death Valley.

Halfway along Wakatipu's Humboldt Mountains, Death Valley is a hanging valley which feeds into the head of Kay Creek. Previously I'd been up the track from the Caples Valley as far as Kay Creek Hut and had also explored up Scott Creek from the Routeburn Road as far as Scott Basin. But I hadn't connected the two. Now was the time to make the missing link.

Lydia above Scott Basin

Saddling up on the Routeburn Road I was unpleasantly surprised by the weight of my pack. Scott Creek Track has no gentle warm up; it is straight into one of the steepest parts of the track. We were spoiled by having our VIP (Very Impressive Porter) lug my pack the first 2.5 hours up to the bushline while Lydia & I had the luxury of taking turns with her pack.

The upper Scott was nice travel and pleasant going with a gentle breeze counteracting the blazing sun. Plans had been left rather open. but on reaching the saddle we decided to turn eastward, popping over the pass below Pt1960 to camp by Death Lake. It's not officially named that on maps, but being the only lake at the head of Death Valley it seems an apt moniker. The pass appeared dauntingly steep from a distance but lines of weakness in the ramparts became obvious as we approached. Still, it was plenty steep enough to lug overburdened packs up.

The pass into Death Valley.
We angled up left from the left hand end of the snow.

Picking our way down the loose rock (not quite loose enough to be scree) on the other side we were startled to hear voices. A couple was ascending and commented on the state of the track and how it was impossible to follow. "Hang on a minute" I thought, "There is no track up Death Valley." I'm not quite sure what they were expecting but they seemed a little out of their depth. In next to no time we had a serene camp set up on the shores of Death Lake and I dived into its sun-warmed waters.

Camp at Death Lake

Walking down Death Valley in the early morning was fun, albeit slow. We crisscrossed the stream a couple of times in search of greener shorter grass on the other side but managed to keep dry feet. On reaching the scrubline, the "strong animal trails" promised by Moirs Guide soon petered out into a vague nothingness but it didn't take too long to crash down to the trees, and from there it was easy down to Kay Creek Hut. Originally a musterers' hut, Kay Creek Hut was overhauled in 2016 by students from Otago University's Phys Ed department. Their humour is evident in the stone steps labeled "Stairway to Heaven"... leading to the long drop!

Looking up Death Valley from the scrubline

Having abandoned my original ambitious idea of pushing all the way through to Steele Creek we opted instead to relax at Kay Creek Hut for a few hours, knowing that we only had to drop down into the Caples Valley. Back in familiar territory I enjoyed Kay Creek and was unable to resist one alluring swimming hole we passed on the track. Arriving at Upper Caples Hut just before 5pm we lounged around for an hour in the hope of a rendezvous with my Dad, who coincidentally was planning to stay there that night. Without a key we were outside at the mercy of the sandflies so when 6pm rolled around and there was still no sign of Dad it was time to plod another 2 hours down the valley to Mid Caples Hut where we could be sure of a bed and a sandfly-free shelter. (we discovered later that Dad had also changed plans and didn't make it to Upper Caples).

Kay Creek

Feeling sticky from sweat, sunblock and insect repellent, I decided that a 9:30pm swim would be just the ticket - and it was! I didn't realise how tired I was until I lay down in bed and didn't so much as roll over for two hours.The forecast heavy rain never materialised overnight but nevertheless we were in no rush to get anywhere and spent the entire day sleeping and relaxing in the sunshine at Mid Caples Hut.

Caples Valley

The glorious swimming hole at Mid Caples

Eyre Excursion

“Summer is here!” There was no denying this statement as we toiled up yet another bump on the ridge beneath a merciless sun. The eastern ranges of Otago’s Eyre Mountains are dry at the best of times, but with not a puff of wind or wisp of cloud to take the edge off the beating sun, the midday heat was relentless. 

The ridgeline of day 2, traversed from right to left.

The route had looked easy on the map: a couple of hours beside Irthing Stream to Mansion Hut the first night; straightforward, undulating ridge travel to Irthing Hut, and then a couple more days alternating between valley tracks and open tops, taking in Upper Cromel and Islands Huts, to complete the circuit. But now that seemingly easy ridge threatened to get the best of us.

The first day had gone to plan with a delightful meander up the valley to the tiny, humourously-named two-bunk Mansion Hut. There was not much living space inside so we opted to enjoy the calm, clear evening and soon had the campfire blazing outside. 

Mansion Hut

Brendan had gleefully promised lots of treats and surprises for my birthday and true to form he whipped up a delicious breakfast of pancakes with fresh strawberries and maple syrup! This was to be but the first of many little celebrations throughout the day. With bellies satisfied we waded across Irthing Stream and made our way up the spur immediately opposite the hut. The beech forest was relatively open so the going wasn’t too bad, although steep, and it only took about an hour to reach the bush line. Emerging into the open there was a bit of scrub to push through at first, before giving way to tussock and low shrubs. Point 1260, the first of five high points along the ridge, was soon reached only for us to immediately drop and regain 150m to the next peak. 

While munching on fairy bread for lunch (after all, “What would a birthday be without fairy bread?”) it became apparent that the relentless heat was taking its toll on us. We were both wilting, and before us lay the daunting looking 450m haul up to Pt 1450. Beginning on the climb, the first warning signs of heat exhaustion began to loom threateningly. The tiny shadow of a large rock presented a brief respite before I haltingly continued upward through the knee-high shrubs. The route itself was not tricky, but what had promised to be a nice ridge walk was turning into a real struggle. Brendan jubilantly found a lingering patch of snow which we put to good use in topping up water bottles and cooling ourselves down, shoving handfuls down our backs and under our hats. Still the climb went on and the sun beat down. A small bluff provided just enough shade for us to collapse in for half an hour before tackling the final 100m. Although we were still not at the highest point on the ridge, reaching Pt 1460 was a huge relief, both physically and mentally, as from here the gradient was much gentler and there was snow to provide a bit of cooling. 

Descending to Shepherd Saddle

After a brief break on the summit of Pt 1552 it was a straightforward descent to Shepherd Saddle, with a couple of small snow patches providing easy progress. From the saddle a nice scree shute dropped us 100m and then it was a descending traverse through tussock and shrubs down to the creek. What bliss to finally reach ice-cold, running water again! Half an hour through beech trees brought us out behind the bright orange Irthing Hut. According to the records in the hut book, only 12 people a year stay at this cosy two-bunk biv. A refreshing wash in the stream was first priority, and then Brendan proudly produced a bottle of sparkling grape juice! Just the ticket after a long, hot day in the open! We’d covered a mere 12.5km but had climbed over 2,000m. To complete the birthday celebrations Brendan decorated the hut with balloons and lit birthday candles on top of a steamed pudding. 

Irthing Hut

Stiff, weary bodies were still feeling the effects of dehydration the next day so it wasn’t until mid morning that we finally crawled out of bed. Originally the plan had been to head to Upper Cromel Hut and then over the tops to Islands Hut, but by the time we reached the Cromel Stream junction the decision had been made to take it easy and cut down to the nearby Cromel Branch Hut instead. The track over the low bush saddle between Irthing and Cromel was nice and interesting; re-marked and cut last year it was easy to follow despite some recent windfall. Cromel Branch Hut is nicely situated on a (slightly swampy) river terrace with firewood in abundance. Unfortunately the sandflies were also in abundance and we soon retreated inside. With plenty of time on his hands Brendan decided to knock up a seat out of old planks, a log, and some rusty wire and nails.

Feeling much refreshed after a good sleep we tramped back along the clearing to the Cromel Stream forks and then straight up the spur to Pt 1203 on Bee Ridge. The bush was steep but clear and we zigzagged up old deer trails. Once above the bushline there was a band of thick, head-high scrub to fight through to gain open rocky clearings. We spooked a deer and watched it bounding down the slope to shelter. Two hours after leaving the hut we crested Bee Ridge and joined the old 4WD track. From here it was a cruisy walk south to the Mount Bee Bunkrooms, with great views in all directions. This hut is quite unique, built from tongue and groove cladding, and is more reminiscent of a 1950s bach than a tramping hut. A relaxed afternoon ensued, lazing on the lawn and rehydrating with plenty of hot drinks.

Mt Bee Bunkrooms

“No way!” I rolled over in bed to look out the window to discover that it was snowing! Brendan sprang out of bed like a little kid with a beaming smile on his face and rushed out to enjoy the experience. We sat eating breakfast mesmerised by the whirling flakes. Although wet and heavy, the snow was settling on the ground. Two days ago we had been suffering from heat exhaustion, and now it was snowing. By 10am the snow had stopped so we quickly packed up and set off toward Irthing Stream via the spur just north of the hut. The tussock and scrub was all dusted with snow so we were soon completely drenched, but the bush was mostly fairly open and easy going although it still took two and a half hours to reach the stream. Back on the main track, a brisk pace was set as we tried to warm up. Walking the last section of gravel 4WD track from the campsite in light drizzle we reflected on what had been an enjoyable, yet under-estimated, tramp in a little-known part of the country. With unfinished business and so many other routes that caught our eyes along the way, another excursion into the Eyre Mountains is definitely in order.

Leaving Bee Ridge

McIntosh Loop

Rising steeply up from Lake Wakatipu, Whakaari Conservation Area is open high country which was mined for scheelite in the 1900s. Old pack tracks and bulldozed roads crisscross the hills and a few historic miners’ huts remain, three of which are available for overnight use. 

The Mt McIntosh Loop Track begins less than 2km from Glenorchy; there is no sign by the road, only a goat track leading up the hill immediately before the Buckler Burn bridge. Following the boundary fence and an old water race, the track skirts around to Chinamans Flat before climbing very steeply up the end of the spur to the transmitter. Being on the sheltered side of the range it was warm going despite the frost and sprinkling of snow underfoot. Once past the transmitter the going was much easier along the ridge on an old road to Long Gully Saddle. There are excellent views across Lake Wakatipu and down to Glenorchy, as well as up to Mt Earnslaw and the Dart Valley. Reaching the McIntosh Huts in 2:45 hours I stopped for lunch and drank in the gorgeous view. These huts are a couple of old miners’ huts, one of which has been restored and is a basic DOC hut although it is obviously not completely weather tight as there were small snow piles inside. 

McIntosh Huts with Mt McIntosh behind

Mt McIntosh (1701m) was beckoning from behind the huts so I decided to go for a scramble. With frozen scree and patches of thin snow on tussock and rock I had to be careful not to climb myself into something I couldn’t get out of. The breeze was rather keen on the summit otherwise I could have happily stayed up there for hours. Looking out to Black Peak, and further into the Richardson Mountains, I wanted to keep on exploring. Another day. On the descent I worked my way down the sunny side of the ridge where the scree was unfrozen and much safer going.

Reluctantly leaving the McIntosh Huts I took a shortcut down an unmarked bulldozer trail instead of backtracking down to Long Gully Saddle. It was fun running down the old road, quickly dropping 800m to the Buckler Burn, with a brief stop to check out McIntyre’s Hut. A short climb brought me on to the main Mt Judah Track and the final descent past the Glenorchy Scheelite battery back to the Whakaari car park.

Looking back to Mt McIntosh (right) from the Mt Judah Track.
The old bulldozer tracks are visible zigzagging down the face.

Five Passes

Memory is an odd thing: at times detailed and accurate, at others a blank wall of no recollection about a given place or event, and occasionally it is even a complete liar. 
Ten years ago my family did the classic Five Passes route as my first multi-day tramp, which I absolutely loved. Ever since, I have had a hankering to retrace our steps. Returning this summer with three friends, I found my seemingly cohesive memory of the trip to instead be a patchwork of well-remembered portions interspersed with mere snapshots and blank spaces.

Wandering up the Dart River
Photo: Dan Roberts

With the weather forecast looking marginal I debated about pulling the pin but we decided to have a crack anyway, prepared to bail if necessary. Setting off from the Lake Sylvan car park at 4pm it was a pleasant wander along the track to the Rock Burn, from where we alternated between following the Dart River flats and trap lines. The evening was still and clear and we were all excited to be underway. The Beans Burn was cold and cloudy but after casting around we found a crossing place at the top end of the flat on the true left. For the other three it was their first time linking up for a river crossing, and it was my first time being in charge of one. It was 8pm by the time we edged into chilly water, thankful for Brendan holding the line at the top end. It was not quite waist deep but we were glad to quickly put on dry clothes and set up camp at the jet boat landing area. In what was to become a nightly ritual, Brendan and Dan soon had a cosy campfire blazing away.

The Beans Burn
Photo: Dan Roberts

Waking the next morning to cloud down around the tops we packed up reasonably quickly, encouraged by the sandflies, and were soon heading up the Beans Burn. This was one section where my memory played me false; of the 15 kilometres and 6 hours I remembered almost nothing, and some things I thought I remembered weren't so at all. Only one area of maze-like crown fern was as I recollected. Spotting a whio was the highlight of the plod through the bush, with a shadow-like bow hunter and 142m waterfall providing other points of interest. Although the river has now changed course, Split Rock Biv was still the same. With mixed opinions on sleeping in the biv versus camping out it wasn't until after dark that we all finally settled on sleeping in the main cavern - Dan rather reluctantly and only because it's not every day that you get to sleep (or lie awake all night) in a cave. Brendan's pack is like Mary Poppins' carpet bag - you never know what he is going to pull out, but it's always just what you want. This time he proudly produced two candles to ensconce in the rock wall.

Contemplating the Beans Burn

Dreading what bad weather the day might bring, I popped my head outside at dawn and was greeted by a relatively clear sky. Time to get going. The plan now was to make the most of the good weather and push all the way over Fohn Saddle, Fiery Col and Cow Saddle to Hidden Falls Creek instead of camping high by Fohn Lakes or on the Olivine Ledge. An hour of tussock and scrub-bashing brought us to the base of the first climb. There is no easing into it: the ascent starts off steeply and gets steeper. Clouds were beginning to scud across the peaks as we gained the first of our five passes. Thankfully there was no cloud sitting in the Olivine Valley and visibility was clear. Dropping down beside the gorge draining Fohn Lake was merely hazy snapshots of memory for me but the route was easy to follow. We spotted a large red deer across the other side of the canyon. A brief moment of panic when Dan realised he'd lost his phone and ran back to where we'd stopped for morning tea 10 minutes prior, triumphantly rejoining us a little while later. We spread out along the Olivine Ledge, each picking our own way. Lucy was extremely proud when she found a significantly easier line and got well ahead of the boys.

Approaching Fiery Col (left)
Photo: Dan Roberts

While eating lunch at Fiery Creek a pair of rock wren came to investigate us and kept us enthralled for quite while. Lucy provided a moment of merriment when, with extraordinary relief, it suddenly dawned on her exactly how close Fiery Col was - she had thought it was on the distant range across the other side of the Olivine Valley! Refueled, we made steady progress up to Fiery Col, the highest point on our journey. This was one of the sections I could clearly (and correctly) recollect from last time. Looking down to Cow Saddle I could pick the route we had taken previously, but instead opted to follow the cairns down the true right of the gully which ended up popping us out at the very head of the Olivine. Cow Saddle was an easy third pass with no elevation to gain. The first pool we came across in Hidden Falls Creek beckoned invitingly and we all took a refreshing plunge. I remembered sidling along the base of the shingle slide but this time it seemed to go on for a lot longer. Bodies were getting weary by now and I had to dangle the promise of an excellent campsite ahead like a carrot on a stick. I only hoped my memory was correct. It was. We were soon contentedly setting up camp and getting the fire going. Not a moment too soon as the first light drops of rain began to fall. Deja vu.

Pass #4 - Park Pass

After a lazy start we eventually set off toward Park Pass. It was still lightly drizzling but we soon stripped down tshirt and shorts when we hit the climb. This was good fun; clambering up tree roots and gaining altitude very fast. Dan was soon out of sight way ahead. Donning raincoats at the bush line, we emerged onto the tussock of Park Pass. With mist obscuring the view and a bit of moisture in the air it was just like last time. No tarrying on pass number four as we blazed on toward the rock bivvy for lunch. It was luxury to have a hot lunch while sitting somewhere dry out of the rain, gazing down the Rock Burn valley. Fond memories of a night spent here snuggled into a cosy sleeping bag. Eventually we decided it was time to carry on and so we blundered our way down the Rock Burn. Scrambling up Point 908 provided an excellent view. Not long afterward Lucy rolled her ankle and fell head first down a steep bank. Luckily a tree stopped her and no damage was done except a sprained ankle. Lucy bravely soldiered on down the rough track to Theatre Flat where we decided to stop for the night. I couldn't remember exactly where the main camp spot was here so Dan and Brendan went to investigate while Lucy and I fossicked for firewood. Of course, we weren't going to leave this plunder behind when the boys returned successfully from their scouting mission. We must have looked like a company of Ents as we made our way to the big rock overhang halfway down the flat. The fire sure was roaring that night! It was a spectacular spot, with majestic mountains all around and countless waterfalls cascading down the cliffs. A kea popped in to case out the joint and left us warily on edge for the night but no mischief was done.

Theatre Flat campsite
Photo: Brendan Jenke

Keeaaaa! A harsh cry woke us in the morning and we were greeted by a kea jauntily peering down at us from the top of the rock. None of us were particular eager to get moving; the sooner we left the sooner this fabulous trip would be over. A few more kilometres down the valley led to a steady climb up to Sugarloaf Pass. We ate lunch here on top of our final pass, devouring an assortment of leftover food. Reluctantly we charged down to the Routeburn Track and civilisation. The wilderness was now behind us. Nothing left but to stroll back to the car. What a glorious way to spend five days!

Steele Creek

"It is not a shortcut". Thus proclaims the information sheet at Mid Caples hut. On the map Steele Creek looks like a nice shortcut between the Caples and Greenstone valleys, but it has a reputation of being difficult and demanding. The treasurer of the local Deerstalkers Association had similarly warned me not to underestimate Steele Creek. To top it off I met a young Scotsman who did the route ten years ago and swore "Never again!" Now, after having just completed the trip again he vowed "Definitely never again!" Of course, the more I heard the more I wanted to go over Steele Creek. 

From Upper Caples hut the 850m climb is steep and relentless, but straight forward. I was glad to be going up this section rather than descending. The bushline was reached in a tad under two hours and I paused to slather on sunblock. From the bushline the route is marked with warratahs but the foot track quickly became obscure. It began by following thin scree channels through low scrub before edging along tussock southwest toward the pass. A damp ledge lead to the broad pass at 1359m.

Below me was revealed the vista of Steele Creek running nearly due south to the Greenstone valley. Six kilometres away, at the end of river flats, the bright speck of Steele Creek Hut was just visible. The way down was again marked with warratahs and only a faint ground trail, although that became more defined as tussock gave way too low scrub. The going was easy until around the 1150m contour, where the scrub got thicker. Route finding simply became finding the path of slightly less resistance. That said, as far as scrub goes it was pretty light and not onerous. Entering into the beech forest at the foot of Tongue Spur provided welcome shade and a clear track. The final 2km down the extensive gravel flats were straight forward; simply keep walking in a straight line. A large cairn marked the southern end of the flats, and a couple of minutes later an orange marker pointed up the river bank to the hut.

Steele Creek Hut is an historic hut which was restored several years ago by the Deerstalkers association and DOC. The framing is beech saplings, with iron cladding and a dirt floor. Thankfully the upgrades included new beds, so no sacking bunks tonight.

Was it a shortcut? No (unless you define 'shortcut' as the longest time between two points), but it sure was far more interesting. Steele Creek is simply a good old tramping route requiring basic routefinding skills and a reasonable level of fitness. Its difficulty gets talked up because it is surrounded by well-defined, well maintained tracks which are achievable for Joe Bloggs off High Street. For the average punter on the Greenstone Caples circuit, yes, Steele Creek would be well out of their depth. But for me? I couldn't have enjoyed it more!

Kay Creek

From the upper Caples Valley, Kay Creek runs NNW up into the Humboldt Mountains. The creek itself is mostly bouldery, with a couple of shingle flats. It is a beautiful stream, full of charm, and there are delightful views up and down the valley. 

After cutting the corner from the Fraser Creek turnoff the route heads up the true right of the valley. The first 100m of altitude is gained quickly but thereafter the ascent is gradual. The track itself is well marked but hasn't been cleared for a while so there is a bit of windfall and debris to contend with. After crossing the initial shoulder from the Caples the track stays pretty close to Kay Creek for the rest of the way. Part way along the main clearing a large, active slip comes down to the creek and the path becomes indistinct. In low flows it is possible to skirt around the slip at water's edge. Cairns and track markers show the way up the rest of the clearing, and there are numerous little streams to be forded on the shingle flats. As Death Valley nears the track heads uphill on the true left of Kay Creek - a sure sign the hut is not far away. With the hut in sight there is one final crossing of Kay Creek to be done. The ford is in a steep and bouldery spot which could be dicey if the stream is up*.

Kay Creek Hut is an old, dirt-floored four bunk hut. It was given a spruce up in 2016 by the Otago University P.E. department and now looks quite cosy. Judging by the hut book it is seldom visited (except by the uni groups), with most parties either hunting or heading over into Scott Creek and the Routeburn Road (or reverse).

It took me 2:40 hours to cover the 6km from Upper Caples Hut with a light day pack and no breaks. I thoroughly enjoyed the rough state of the track - it was nice to have a sense of wilderness after the wide easy path along the Caples. Kay Creek would have to be my favourite excursion of the summer so far!

* According to a note in the hut book, if water levels are high it is safer to cross Death Valley stream by the hut, instead of Kay Creek, and continue down the true right until the track is picked up. 

Earnslaw Burn

Earnslaw Burn is a wee valley draining the southern aspect of Mt Earnslaw/Pikirakatahi (2,830m). The start of the track is a little hard to find as there are no signs and it is marked incorrectly on old maps. Turn down Lovers Leap Rd (off the road to Paradise), and when the road does a sharp right turn look across the paddocks to the left and you will see an orange triangle. The track sidles up the valley through beech forest for four hours, staying roughly 100m above the stream. It is not particularly interesting, with only one or two views and no glimpses of the river until nearly at the bushline. The rewards come once you emerge into the delightful alpine basin with a babbling stream, lovely flats and waterfalls pouring over majestic flats. There is a rock bivvy, complete with wooden sleeping platform, on the true right of the stream at the bushline and another about 500m further upstream under cliffs on the true left. As you wander up the valley the vista only gets more spectacular as the Earnslaw Glacier comes into view. There are plenty of excellent camping spots and boulders which would give some shelter. I bivvied under a rock near the head of the valley at the base of Lennox Pass. It would have to be one of the most majestic I have ever slept!

I returned back the way I came, but a good alternative is to head up onto the tops from the first stream below the bushline and follow the ridge to Lovers Leap and down to the car park.

Rees - Dart (a variation)

Two weeks of climbing and tramping in the Wakatipu region - not a bad way to end the summer holidays.

I caught the first flight down to Queenstown on Wednesday morning and rendezvoused with Dad, Denis, & John. Spent a few hours planning and organising gear before heading out to Glenorchy to start our adventure. The plan was to firstly climb Mt. Earnslaw (2830m) after which Denis & John would head out, taking some of our climbing gear with them, while Dad & I would carry on up the Rees valley for another week of tramping and climbing.

Day 1: It was a hot slog up the Rees Valley from the car to the turn off to Kea Basin and Earnslaw Hut, and then a 500m climb up to the rustic bivvy. Laden with climbing gear, camping gear, and 12 days of food, my pack was the heaviest I had ever carried (estimated 16-17kg) although it was still lighter than the rest! Earnslaw Hut is a 4-bunk bivvy constructed from corrugated iron and beech poles. The top bunks were good old-fashioned sacking slung between poles. We hung some of our food from the rafters to be collected on our way back down - we didn't want to haul to much unnecessary weight up 1200m to the next hut.

Day 2: A leisurely breakfast saw us depart around 9am. We had just joined the track up to Kea Basin when a party of 3 came up behind us. "That wouldn't be Jim Davidson would it?" Turned out that one of the party was one of Dad's old adventure racing team mates! It's a small world. Low cloud hung around the tops in the morning but around 10:30am everything suddenly cleared and we could see our objective: Mt. Earnslaw. Our destination for the night was Esquilant Biv, perched near Wright Col on the shoulder of Earnslaw at 2200m. That meant 1200m of steep track to climb, and Denis & John struggled a little. Crampons were donned to ascend the snow slope of the Birley Glacier to Wright Col, and we reached the hut around 6 hours after setting out. It was a glorious day with no clouds and little wind so we sat outside the bivvy to soak in the grand view and eye up the imposing face of Mt Earnslaw. We squeezed 7 people into the 6 bunks - enough room for sleeping but not much room to maneuver in the cooking / storage area. Water had to be fetched from melting snow 5 minutes away.

Day 3: Up at 6:30am after waiting for Ross's party to leave. Took an hour to have breakfast and get kitted out before heading up the scree slope from Wright Col. From the Col to the summit is a climb of 600m. Denis was in a bad way from the beginning, suffering from nausea and a headache. John (a doctor) was quite worried about the symptoms but Denis insisted on carrying on. From the top of the scree we scrambled along rock ledges following the cairned route. The crux was a boulder called the 'keyhole' where you could either wriggle up a couple of metres through a narrow gap between the boulder and the cliff, or climb around the outside above a very long drop. Denis & I wormed through the gap while Dad & John took the easier but more exposed outside route. From there we popped out onto scree which led up to the summit. 3:15 hours from hut to peak.

The Keyhole

Ross's party had taken a different route and reached the top at the same time as us. Spent a long time on top before heading down together. Used the rope to descend the keyhole (mainly for confidence). Reached the col in 2:15 hours.
 Relaxed with hot soup at Esquilant Biv before packing up and heading back down to Kea Basin. Denis was still struggling but bravely soldiered on. It was a long descent and my legs were very tired and a little shaky before the end (roughly 3 hours down from Esquilant). We had planned to spend the night in one of the rock bivvys in Kea Basin but when we arrived we couldn't find any clean water nearby so we carried on another 15 minutes to Earnslaw Hut. Some very weary bodies that night!

Dad & I on top of Earnslaw

Day 4: Woke up with extremely tight legs thanks to the 1800m of descent on the previous day, much of it with a heavy pack. Headed down to the Rees Valley where Dad & I loaded Denis & John up with the gear we no longer required such as rope, helmets, and harnesses. Those two slowly made their way back down valley to the car while Dad and I headed further up the valley to Shelter Rock Hut. My quads were

screaming blue murder at me so my pace was pretty slow. On top of that I was quite weary from poor sleep and not eating enough over the last couple of days. As is usual at the start of a long trip we were trying to ration our food, but a couple of big days really required more. It took us 1 hour down to the Rees and a further 5 hours to the hut. Had lunch by the river at Slip Flat and had a splash to cool down. Another cloudless day meant hot work. Quickly settled into the flash hut (complete with flush toilets!) and had a proper wash of both bodies and clothes. Other trampers gradually trickled in and the hut was soon full. There were several tents pitched out the front while a few people slept on the floor inside.

Rees Saddle

Day 5: Low cloud in the morning so we took our time to pack up hoping it would clear. No such luck so we headed off just after 7:30am. A gentle climb up to Rees Saddle then along a tussock bench above the dramatic Snowy Creek to Dart Hut, in cloud the whole time although we could see down to the gorges of Snowy Creek. 4 hours to Dart Hut. Had lunch in the hut, where a party doing their Duke of Ed. gave us a sandwich to complement our cheese and crackers. We headed off with satisfied stomachs and the weather soon cleared to bluebird skies. The Dart glacier was reached after 3 hours, then it was a long hot climb up to Cascade Saddle. By this time we were pretty footsore and weary. From the saddle it was still another 50 minutes along (and up) to the campsite at Cascade Stream below the pylon (at 1560m). Just before reaching camp I had a falcon land right in front of me which was a neat experience. It wasn't worried about me at all despite being less
than 10 metres away. That made my day! I was shattered so left Dad to set up camp. Mt Aspiring could be seen clearly from our campsite, as well as Mt Tyndall and Mt Ansted which we hoped to climb the next day. 10 hour day, including a 1 hour lunch break.

Day 6: Alarm went off at 5:30am but it took a few minutes before we actually crawled out of our sleeping bags. Breakfast under a clear sky with the mountains visible in the pre-dawn light. We packed up all our gear, including the tent, and stashed everything in the DoC toilet to keep it safe from raiding keas. Our climb started with a 200m climb straight up the track to the pylon, where we left the track and followed the ridge. Undulating to begin with, the ridge soon deteriorated into steep, loose rock and we reached snow after an hour of walking. Crampons on to ascend the easy snow slopes of the Isobel Glacier towards the summit of Mt Tyndall (2496m). A slight mountain zephyr (enough to warrrant my putting on a coat) but otherwise the weather was perfect. Upon reaching a shingle slide near the top we kept our crampons on as this gave a more secure footing on the small, loose rocks. Even when we reached the summit rocks we kept crampons on, as they bit into the

Mt Tyndall

crumbly weetbix-like rock as if it were firm snow. Only the final few metres up a solid corner required the removal of crampons (and a few careful moves). 3:10 hours after leaving camp we had Tyndall in the bag. Fantastic views - the Shotover & Matukituki valleys underneath, mountains all around with Aspiring, Earnslaw, Tutuko, and even Mt Cook in sight. Descending the weetbix rock was rather sketchy and I was glad to reach the snow again.Strolled along the Isobel Glacier to Mt. Ansted (2.5 hours) but didn't quite reach the top. The final 50m or so was steep, slabby choss, and although it was probably climbable we would have wanted a rope & protection (which we didn't have) due to the long drop below. We settled for lunch on the edge of the snow before trudging back along the Isobel Glacier. It was pretty warm by now and Dad was plugging steps in the soft snow. Returned to camp after 9.5 hours. An absolutely magnificent day!

Heading back along the Isobel Glacier
From Mt Ansted. (Tyndall top right)

Day 7: Woke to cloud around the peaks which gradually lowered and threatened to rain. Headed down to Dart Hut for lunch (4 hours). Had planned to carry on another couple of hours to the rock bivvy at Cattle Flat but it started to rain while we were eating so as we were rather weary we allowed ourselves the luxury of staying at the hut. The weather gradually cleared and by late afternoon the sun was shining and Mt. Ansted was in clear view up the valley.

Day 8: Low cloud and very light drizzle slowly cleared. The track down the Dart valley was nicely benched through beech forest down to Cattle Flat. Here we shared our lunch with the sandflies before popping up to have a look at the bivvy. Quite a large overhang with a rock wall built in front. Plenty of room to pitch a tent underneath if desired. Daleys Flat was reached in 6 hours, and we pitched the tent at the top end between the river and the track. Hordes of sandflies!  All I really wanted to do was sit still & relax but the sandflies were too persistent. We retreated to the tent and later the bush to escape their clutches. Retired to bed early, and although we entered the tent quickly we then spent over half an hour exterminating the sandflies which had managed to enter with us.

Day 9: Cooked breakfast in the bush above the river to avoid the worst of the sandflies, although they still found us. Popped our noses into Daleys Flat Hut before starting through the beech forest. The track around the new lake at Dredge Flat is quite rough in places although there has been enough foot traffic for the route to be easily followed. The massive slip which caused the lake is quite impressive and the outlet/river now flows through the trees on the true left. I started to run low on energy after Sandy Bluff (end of the lake). We hoped to cross the Dart River to head down the true right to the Lake Sylvan track, but the river didn't come to the party. Dad attempted to cross by the Beans Burn but the water was too swift. He tried again below Chinamans Bluff and got most of the way across but was stopped by the final, narrow channel. While Dad was thus engaged I was entertained by a friendly robin feasting on the sandflies which swarmed around our packs. When I sat still it even pecked the insects directly off me! Thwarted by the river, we carried on out to the carpark at Chinamans Bluff where we managed to get a ride out to Glenorchy with a couple of DoC workers. 6 hours including lunch and an hour spent attempting to cross the Dart.

Our trip turned out to be a little shorter than planned - 9 days instead of 12, but we had a marvellous time. After a couple of days recuperation in Queenstown we headed up to the Remarkables to do a Grand Traverse of Double Cone & Single Cone.

Esquilant Biv

Shelter Rock Hut

Our campsite above Cascade Saddle
Mt Aspiring in the background

On top of Mt Tyndall
(Earnslaw back right)

The new Dredge Lake

Climbing Double Cone

On top of Single Cone