Finding My Feet - Mt. Brewster

After an email exchange with the friendly Brit. Kevin (spawned by an NZAC partner search), we agreed to meet up in Wanaka on the South island and see where our fortunes might lead us in the vertical direction. Kevin had met a Dept. of Conservation volunteer, Andrew, and the three of us waded through the obligatory icy river (all NZ climbs begin and end with wet feet) and tramped up through the mossy, steep, Beech forest towards Brewster Hut above the treeline.

The sky was clear. Perhaps for the only time during my whole stay, it was hot and sunny. We were treated to a pink sunset promising further fine weather for the climb.

Picture: That's me standing on the only solid rock we found during the whole climb. The Brewster glacier and Mt. Brewster (2515m) are above my head across the gorge which vanishes way, way below the ridge we're on. The peak to the left is Topheavy (2076m) which has a wicked bottomless gully - for another time.

Kevin had been worried that he might not be able to keep up with me on the climb. Hah! I think the description I sent him of my past experience must have come across as more intimidating than it was... I wasn't yet settled into NZ climbing.

After having held everybody up on the traverse from our bivy to the bottom of our chosen colouoir - my plastics were cumbersome and unecessary, wish I'd worn the La Sportivas - I arrived at the bergshrund with Andrew and Kevin waiting for the rope which was in my pack (so that I knew they couldn't abseil down without me).

Hmmm. I have never crossed a bergshrund before. I've never seen one in my two winters in Japan and there certainly aren't any on Oz. With trepidation and a belay I make it across and onto my first experience of NZ rock in crampons. Oh boy, this is a far cry from Mt. Arapiles! The simple act of touching a rock results in a barrage of falling and sliding debris. Now I see why Mt. Weet Bix (after the Sanitarium breakfast cereal of the same name) is an appropriate name for this peak. Well, the others are going up so I guess I'll follow. With much belaying, and much decision making, stumbling around on loose rock, minor rock slides, a brief patch or two of white bliss (snow!) we arrive on the central peak.

Kevin is very diplomatic and sums up the situation: we are ("Alan is" - but he didn't say that :-) moving very slowly on rock and I think we should avoid the Eastern peak (pile of snow-free, quite steep, unprotectable, choss that it is) and call it a day. Andrew is very disappointed (sorry Andrew) as we had originally hoped to get up it. I breathe a sigh of relief. I would have climbed it if you two did, but, well... it looked like Weet Bix to me!

Picture: Kevin posing for the camera, whilst Andrew's boot takes its 15-minutes of fame. A clear view of the surrounding peaks behind... this is what I've been missing with all those white-out winter ascents in the Japanese Alps.

Kevin accessorizes with a DMM snaplink carabiner and a snow-coloured Petzl helmet. He is not pregnant, he has stashed extra muesli bars in his jacket. Andrew looks cheerful enough considering his dream of ascending the choss pile has been shattered.

So you reckon this photo could have been taken anywhere? You're right of course! But we know it wasn't taken in the Wanaka supermarket carpark because there are no tour buses in the background.

Time now to soak up the rays, eat some chocolate and drink a litre or two of that water I collected from the incredible cascades.

Alan models the new Alpine collection from Armani and is accessorizing in yellow and white.

After the chossy descent to the 'shrund, Kevin and Andrew charged back across the ridge. My plastic Scarpas carved holes in my shins as I stumbled along in the sun, dejected at my lack of speed and frustrated as hell that despite my fitness (I had trained well for this trip) I couldn't keep up on the terrain. Being the splendid chaps that they are, my companions politely waited for me a couple of times before Andrew tore back to the tent to get a hot cuppa on the boil.

Two folks who had stayed last night in the hut had enjoyed our faffing on the mountain and took the time to write us a little note on an appropriate scrap of newspaper (see picture and rollover for close-up)... much appreciated guys! I'm glad you enjoyed the show. *GRIN*

Of course the next day on the walk down I sped along comfortably... luckily the holes in my legs from the Scarpas were just above the tops of my approach boots. But where had my speed been the day before?

Welcome to climbing in New Zealand Alan!