French Ridge (Easter Break)

25 March-28 March
Thursday night I pulled off the last of my scab from climbing the scree of the Paradise trip, which when combined with a 5-day weekend could only mean one thing. Time to head out on another tramping adventure! This time it was out to French Ridge on a trip organized by a guy named Richard who is actually from the US and just finished some graduate degree stuff here. He's really cool, but I can't quite tell if he's creepy or not. Very nice and a good leader, but he's about 40 years old and hanging out with university kids. I don't see any problems with him, but then I tend not to notice creepiness that others do. Anyway other than us there were only girls on the trip, but it was a really cool group.

Friday we met early in the morning and drove out to the carpark, which involved several fords. I was in the car of Marta from the Czech Republic, who demanded that we all get out and walk across the fords because she didn't trust her 30 year-old Mazda in the fords with any weight. This was slightly inconvenient, but only a warmup for the real river crossing that we did about an hour into the hike (about to my upper thigh and with a current strong enought that you could feel it, but nothing we couldn't handle). My boots were soaked for the remainder of the trip. In a way that was good though; no point in trying to avoid mud and puddles if your feet are already as wet as they can get. The hike for the day was just along the river valley through pastureland (read: cow pies). The plan was to get most of the way through the valley to a rock bivvy (just an overhanging rock) at Pearl Flat and camp under it, but when we got to Aspiring Hut with only a few hours of daylight left and rain misting all over us we decided just to stop and cook dinner there. This was a good thing because Richard's stove aparently had gotten into a fight with some detergent. Apparently detergent and fuel lines do not mix to a desirable end. Luckily we were able to get some new gas from the hut, cook dinner, and get up our tent flies before dark.

Saturday we hiked a bit more through the river valley to our originally planned campsite at Pearl Flat, and then turned to climbing. Rather steep hike at times, up past bushline and then to French Ridge Hut, where we stayed for the night. This was perhaps the most comfortable night I've spent on a tramping trip; there were actual bunks with mattresses in the hut and a table and everything! Lesson: you don't have to sleep under a tent fly to make a hard-core, real trip.

Sunday morning we were awoken at first glimmer of light by the hut warden demanding that we all go outside. "It cleared overnight! No more rain! Come see!" Indeed the weather had cleared up at our altitude, though the valley below was still filled with clouds. This made for an awesome view; it looked like we were on an island surrounded by a sea of mist. Behind us with the rising sun was our destination for the day: an alpine glacier! To reach the glacier we had to hike up French Ridge farther still, with the path through the rocks (too high for plants) marked mainly by small rock cairns. Once we reached the actual glacier itself it was time to break out the crampons (platforms of spikes that attach to your boots) and ice axes and do some real climbing! There were a few spots where it got really steep and we weren't really sure what the best way to go would be, but eventually we all made our way up to the quarterdeck (a plateau on the glacier) in one piece. Note to parents: one person in the party did not knock loose a rather large rock which narrowly missed everyone down below. Also we did not have to jump across any crevasses while hanging from our ice axes. The view from the quarterdeck was awesome and the weather stayed great! In fact it was almost too great; I got some sunburn on my poor little nose and we actually had to head back down just after getting pictures because we were worried about the sun melting the treacherous bits we had climbed up and making it too soft to get back down. Back down we got though, but not before stopping to play on a little dip in the glacier. There was a convenient spot to go sledding on sleeping mats and/or inside a plastic pack liner with arm and head holes cut out. Sweet as. This was the most exciting and guts-challenging part of the trip, but we ended up back at the hut with plenty of time to spend playing cards, hanging out, eating, etc. Again, huts are good.

Side note, staying in French Ridge hut was a guy from England who had worked as a contractor, and simply decided to go tramping in New Zealand when his contract ran out. Cool guy. Also every night the hut wardens talk to each other on the radio exchanging news and weather reports, etc. We got to hear about someone planning on camping out on the quarterdeck overnight alone and with no glacier experience. Dumb guy.

Monday was a long walk all the way back down to the river valley and out to the carpark again, while hoping the rain would hold off (it did). Many hours and tiring, just a bit. For some reason I am a very slow hiker even compared to girls smaller than me, which is rather embarassing. However, I learned that if I wait until we get to flat parts and then just run for a bit I can catch up fairly easily. So I can run with 50+ pounds on my back (that number came out of my rear) but can't walk. Doesn't make sense to me, but whatever.

Other lessons:
1) Do not leave your glasses in the backseat of the car when you put your contacts in.
2) Huts are good.
3) When on a trip with many girls, jump on the chocolate.
4) When on a trip with many girls, watch everything you say because they will try to misquote you out of context in writeups for "Antics": the Outing Club magazine/book/publication of reports and whatever from anybody who wants to write about their experiences over the year. Every member gets a copy, plus copies end up in huts throughout New Zealand. Apparently they are popular reading because all the issues in French Ridge Hut at least were well-worn.
5) Wake up early because you are friggin slow at getting your crap packed and ready to go.