Boredom and Cheese

I’ve been working at home all day in my cold little office, creating 3D modelling tutorials for a bunch of school kids. I keep walking up to the window and looking out at the little court yard garden trying to imagine what it will be like in summer. At the moment its grey skies and I think it’s leaving me feeling very uninspired to do any ‘real’ work in the world of ‘culturally adaptive computer games’.


So, I shall tell you of our nice outing at the weekend to the beautiful hills of Banks Peninsular and the very French feeling area of Akaroa. The reason we set off on Saturday to Banks was due to the fact that I’d been told that there was a cheese factory out there somewhere that made half decent cheese, something that the rest of NZ seems to be unable to do.

The cheese shop is in a bay that was once the inside wall of a massive volcano. It’s now a calm inlet for the Pacific Ocean surrounded by the rolling hills that make up the crater walls. These hills are at least the height of those in the Peak District and they drop down to the water edge with the most wonderful folds and ripples of rock and field.

We drove around the top of the crater rim with a view of the bay on the right and the Pacific Ocean on the left. Danny being the action man he is took us on an hour’s walk which took in the highest point of the Akaroa Hills. The view was brilliant on both sides and it was well worth the climb through the tuffs of thick New Zealand native grasses that tangled round your feet at the most inopportune times. As we walked back towards the van for a cup of hot cocoa it felt very surreal as the landscape was so like Derbyshire I wasn’t entirely sure where I was for a moment.

This far side of banks peninsula is where the French tried to settle before the British kicked um out. The towns are very much in the French style and there is even a baguette shop. There is also a great fish and chippy (long live English cuisine) we had a battered seafood selection that was like a fishy lucky dip, but it was yummy with bits of fish, prawns, mussels, and things we couldn’t identify by taste alone.

We took our leave of the little seaside haven and took our van, much the worse for wear with the exhaust blowing from all the hill climbing, round the bay and eventually found the reason for our trip, the cheese shop. We bought a good few cheeses to taste but unfortunately for us the factory was closed as it was the weekend so we didn’t get to see them being made. All being said though the cheese was good and local, and it gives us an excuse to go back over to Akaroa, and in a few months the local dolphins might be back in the bay as well.

An idiot’s guide to mountaineering – Part 1

Here is the Video from the Summit on Danny's second atempted at the top :)

First of all i'd like to say that after 9 months this will be Danny's first EVER Blog entry.
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1. Take great care when selecting your climbing partner

The night before our attempt at Mt Philistine we stayed in Arthur’s Pass where Alisa swatted up on mountaineering techniques from a copy of ‘Mountain Craft & Leadership’. I was a little alarmed at how hilarious she found each potentially lethal hazard the book described.

2. Be sure to get an ‘Alpine Start’

Between my faffing and Alisa’s need to drink a cup of coffee before doing anything in the morning we managed to start the walk in by 9.30, not sure if this counts as an alpine start.After about an hour we cross the river, leave the trail behind and make for ‘the bluffs’.

3. When the route gets tricky focus on your climbing and nothing else
This is basically my excuse for not taking any photos when climbing up through the bluffs. Our main challenge was without doubt the snow conditions. Through the steepest section of the climb the snow was totally unconsolidated (loose) and we were basically climbing the rocks and frozen ground beneath it. This meant that all axe and foot placements had to be searched for and offered little security. Though the climbing was never steep or technically demanding it was tenuous with potential falls that were best not thought about too much. It is also worth mentioning at this point that this was only Alisa’s second time climbing in crampons. After an hour or more of flailing it was with a little relief we reached the top of the bluffs.

4. When the going is good, get going. When it is not, wallow like a hippo on roller skates

The next section is a long steady climb up a gentle slope to the foot of the ridge that leads to the summit.


The going alternated between knee deep fresh snow (utterly exhausting) and pleasant firm sections of wind slab (unfortunately wind slab is the stuff of fatal avalanches). Fortunately the areas of wind slab were never big enough or unstable enough to cause us major concerns. We slowly ascended through a thin layer of cloud to ever improving views.

5. Know when to call it a day

Finally we reached the foot of the summit ridge. An alternative, more straight forward, route is possible that bypasses the ridge but we opted for the ridge as I was concerned about avalanche risk. Alisa led on up the ridge on increasingly sticky snow caused by the heat from the midday sun.

By this point our main concern was the time. The soft deep snow had cost us considerable time and our agreed ‘turn around’ time of 2pm was fast approaching. At points the ridge narrowed giving us superb views of the Otira valley beneath our feet and of Mt. Rolleston opposite.

We paused on a flat spot in the ridge, it was 1.30pm. We estimated it was another 200m to the top and, with the soft snow and unknown ridge ahead, it would take us at least another hour to get there. This would put us beyond our cut off time and could put us under time pressure climbing back down the bluffs, something we wanted to avoid. With this in mind we decided to have some lunch, take some pictures then head back down.

   
 
 
 

6. The top is only halfway

Down climbing the ridge required a little care but once we were on the easy ground we romped down. This time the knee deep snow was a useful way to slow the descent. At one point Alisa broke through the crust up to here knees and asked for a hand to pull her out. I thought my time would be better spent videoing her trying to extricate herself. Please let me know if you want a copy of the footage.

We were soon back at the top of the bluffs preparing for the tricky descent. As suspected down climbing proved to be harder than ascending and we decided to get the rope out for a little extra security. Progress was slow but fairly secure and we finally emerged at the foot of the difficulties.

7. The summit is only a bonus

We quickly packed the gear and, unencumbered by crampons, sprinted off down to find the trail. We finally made it back to the car as the light began to fail. Know that going on to the summit would have meant completing the descent in the dark made us happier about our decision to turn back and before we were out of the pass the decision was made to return for ‘round 2’ and this time was would get an ‘alpine start’… …probably.

Hawdon Valley Mini-Trek

So this weekend was the Queens birthday and as such is a national holiday for Kiwi’s. So we decided that the weather looked good so we embarked on a 2 day mini trek up the Hawdon Valley in the Southern Alps nears Arthur’s pass. Arthur’s pass is the highest pass that takes you from one side of the south island to the other.

Danny was very happy to be out in the wilderness again and we really we in the middle of nowhere. We were heading for a trekking hut about 9k up the Hawdon Valley. To get there we followed the river which snaked across the valley bottom from one side to the other, it was inevitable that we going to have to cross the river several points.

The river wasn’t very deep and for the first few crossing we managed to keep our feet dry. But as we made our way up the valley the river bed deepened and we had to cross in the water. I can’t describe how horrible the feeling of wet feet inside hiking boots feels.

It took us 4 hours to reach the hut, at this point we were at the top of the valley and with about an hour of daylight left we dumped our backpacks and headed out fast and light to climb up the ridge top to get a view back down over the valley.

The scenery around us was like something from the wilds of Alaska or Canada. We crossed quite a lot of landslides were the weight of the snow and melt water had sent millions of tons of head sized rocks down to meet the river.

All the mountains that topped the valley were covered in snow and the contrast in colours was beautiful. The view from the ridge was awesome. We had the valley laid out before us from the front and we could see the path we had taken to get to the hut. Behind us was the ring of snow-capped mountains with a very snow clogged mountain pass into the next valley.

The path up to the ridge was very steep and we climbed up over rocky outcrops, as we climbed out of the trees the rock in front of us was covered in ice and it made for a very scary ascent and descent.

It was dark on our return to the hut but the fire had been stoked by the other trekkers staying there and it was really warm that night. For our return journey we were hoping to out run the rain that was due but when we woke up it was already chucking it down.

Normally this wouldn’t mean anything apart from spending the day walking in the rain but as we had to cross the river about 5 times it started to be a problem. The more it rains the more the river level rises and as we were in a river valley with all the water running off the mountains and filling up the side rivers and main rivers.

We knew that we were going to be very wet and as we crossed the first side river and kept our feet dry Danny decided that it would be a safer and dryer to try and bash through the forest on the left of the river to avoid having to cross the river so many times.

There was no path to follow apart from a very small conservation path that was used to lay traps for the Possums. We climbed through trees, up muddy banks over rocks and slid down banks. Eventually we walked down the side of the river until we finally had to cross.

We linked arms and using the walking poles for stability against the current we waded across the main river. It took a couple of seconds for the water to get into your boots but when I did it was freezing. We then crossed the river another four times before we were able to get to the car park. We must have walked for 4km with our boots squelching.

I’ve never been so happy to get back to the van and warm our feet up over the camping stove. I was so wet through and cold that I had to take all my wet cloths off and travel back zipped inside the sleeping bag, which Danny though was hilarious.

A great weekend though but I think I’m going to wait for the weather to improve before I try river crossing again