Naturists on Tongariro

Tongariro Crossing, 28 July
Punters: Mike Gilbert, Yingjie Zhang, Ilske Verberg
At home with flu: Josh "It'll always be there, I'll do it later" Tabor

Note to the Committee

I feel I must notify you of a conflict of interest I have, as myself and others have formed a new club that inevitably will compete with the WTMC.  A group of us have had a flash of insight that there is a totally unserviced need in the tramping community, and that is how the Wellington Alpine Naturists Group was born.  This seemed like a great idea at about 10pm at a beer tasting event, and in rapid order we had many founding members and a full WANG committee was formed.

I must further inform you of our inaugural trip, which was a great success, although it did not strictly achieve our founding aims since everybody seemed to stay very thoroughly dressed.

We started by surreptitiously tagging along with a WTMC group - one of the three family trips to Ruapehu Lodge that are running this year.  Saturday morning we left a happy, bubbling Lodge full of children getting ready to sled, ski and board, and drove off down from Whakapapa.

We called in at the DOC office to find out that while last week there was snow all the way to the bottom of Tongariro, the torrential rains of the last week had washed most of it away.  Ice in the craters but washed off the slopes seemed to be the recurring theme.  So we packed our crampons, tied on our ice axes, and set off from Mangetepopo.

I've only ever done the crossing with the masses in summer, so found Mangtepopo road end eerily empty.  No full car park, nor steady shuttling of buses and large groups of tourists and walkers milling around.  Just us and maybe 5 other people.  Strangely, we all started with many layers of clothing, somewhat counter to our Naturist ideals.  Perhaps the biting wind and cool temperature had something to do with this.  We started off on the gentle walk through the Mangetepopo valley with ice all around.  Beautiful ice crystal formations grew out of the dirt like jewelled spines.  The grasses were covered in delicate ice casing.  A stream running beside the track formed sculpted shapes where the water splashed and trickled over rocks and down gullies.

At soda springs the grunt up the hill began.  We still had seen little or no sign of snow - only the chill in the gentle breeze told us it wasn't a pleasant summer's day. But when we topped out in the first crater, the white stuff made its presence known in the form of quite patchy snow and ice.  As the DOC office lady had predicted, the rain had washed snow into the crater and frozen.  I untied my ice axe, more in hope than necessity, but although things were a little slippery in places there was no thought of strapping on crampons.

In very little time we'd climbed the spur to the top crater.  The wind was fresh and chilling but the tops were sunny and quite pleasant.  We crossed and picked our way down the other side through the steep scoria.  No snow, no  ice, nothing but loose, sliding rubble.  We slowly and carefully descended to the emerald lakes.  Emerald in summer, icy white in winter!

We lunched here in the shelter of a rocky outcrop, absorbing the sun like lizards.  A couple of us gingerly made our way onto the lake and tapped at the surface with ice axes.  The lakes seemed very solid - but we didn't push our luck.

We carried on through red crater, the third of the four big craters.  This was the snowiest part of the journey, with good cover over the entire floor and a slushy, icy exit to Blue Lake.  Blue Lake was truly spectacular as a large white expanse of ice.

We sidled around the edge of the lake and began our descent, to spectacular views of Lake Rotoaira with Taupo in the background.

All too soon we left the snow behind, and ice and rock gave way to mud and gravel.  The track to Ketatahi Hut was showing a lot of damage with washouts and great pieces of wooden edge pulled loose and fallen down the hill.  I always find the descent to Ketatahi Hut interminably long and today was no exception - the track wound back and forth and the hut grew closer in agonisingly small increments.  But soon enough we were chomping on afternoon tea on the porch.

The interminable track carried on from the hut to the beech forest, which is a pleasant finale to the day.   Before long we were met by our driver with welcome cold drinks and were loaded into the car to return to the lodge, to hear excited stories about a great day in the snow.

I'm happy I've done Tongariro Crossing in the winter.  In the event it was pretty well like a summer crossing - we didn't need to utilise our snowcraft skills at all.  But it was superb to experience the crossing like it must have been before the rest of the world discovered it - peaceful, tranquil and deserted.  Tongariro feels like an otherworldly place so much more when it's not scattered with other walkers.

Of course, 10 days later Tongariro did its thing.  Returning two weekends later for a Whakapapa Ski weekend (and the second Family Trampers weekend) the sour smell of sulphur was in the air and clouds hung dark and foreboding over Tongariro and Ngaruhoe. It's quite special to think that we were one of the last people to cross Tongariro for probably quite some time.

If you have done the snowcraft course and know what to do with crampons and ice axe, The Crossing in Winter is definitely a trip to do.  You're still on a well formed track so even with more snow and ice, it should be pretty good going, the scoria descent possibly the only tricky bit.  Definitely a good side trip if you are on the mountain but want a break from Whakapapa.

And the future of WANG?  Well, it has its detractors, with their "hypothermia waiting to happen" this and "sunburn in terribly sensitive places" that.  Any innovation always has haters.  So if you have been seeking clothes-optional trips above the snowline, you now need look no further...

Photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/girl_geek/sets/72157630834565798/
https://picasaweb.google.com/108814469832492095035/Snow2012?authkey=Gv1sRgCJbegK6AoYXUowE

Snowcraft II (25-26 July)

(Continued from Part 1)

There was an air of anticipation as we gathered at the railway station. We'd spent the last weekend practicing our snow techniques, and Sharron had hinted that the next thing we should do is put our theory into practice by going somewhere. Where would we get to? Would the weather let us? The forecast was great, but I've learned that that doesn't necessarily mean that Ruapehu would play nice.

One of the many skills I am learning as part of tramping and snowcraft with WT&MC, is a detailed knowledge of where the best takeaways are at the towns on SH1 and SH2. And Bulls was our destination for dinner so that means the Best Doner Kebab Shop In All Rangitikei for sure. So we tried dialling in our order beforehand, which led to the phone being passed from person to person through the van until all 10 orders were placed. This was only partially successful since they insisted on making all our kebabs one at a time!

We arrived to brilliant clear skies and settled into the lodge.

Saturday saw us up early and enthusiastic. The weather was behaving and it was incredibly clear. As promised, we were indeed off somewhere - we were going to head for the summit. We divided ourselves into two groups - the "keen" group and the "try-hard" group (Sharron's names!) and 8am saw us off and walking.

Our first destination was the ampitheatre and the Alpine Club lodge. Conditions were superb, with really fantastic, weekend-of-the-season weather. Unlike the previous week, the snow was quite firm underfoot, with hard-packed snow and ice. Our crampons gripped perfectly.

At one point we crested a small ridge and walked straight down the relatively steep face on other side. Steve took us (the Keens) straight down the face! It was great to learn to trust your crampons that much - to be able to walk down a steep face and just stick to it with the steel spikes on the bottom of your boots. We meandered up the other side and looked back as the Try-hards tackled that face. Nic went first ... and lost her footing and slid straight to the bottom of the gut, even getting airborne at one point. The others picked their way down quite gingerly after watching how Nic went!

We stopped for a snack at the Alpine Club lodge after about 45 min and pondered on how this would be their standard walk in the evening, with all their stuff, after driving up for the weekend. That's a little bit too keen! We seemed to make very good time after passing the lodge and soon left it, and the ski lifts, far behind. We approached the summit via the spur that leads to Paretetaitonga, and passed the AIC'ers practicing their ice climbing. Icy snow gave way to ice and sastrugi. The going got steeper, and our pace turned into a slog. And then my crampons fell apart! Steve helped me with a bit of inventive use of the straps to hold them together for the day and it wasn't much longer before we crested Glacier Knob and got our first, astonishing view of the top. Before us the ridge sloped down to the Plateau, a flat moonscape basin ringed by uneven, ice blasted ridges and peaks.

We sidled along the ridge around the Plateau to Dome Ridge, and stopped at Dome Shelter for a well-earned, leisurely lunch, our first views of the crater lake on one side, and on the other the plateau, and our next destinations - the ridge of Tukino Peak and Te Heuheu. The shelter was entirely buried, and we had to take Steve, Marie and Sharron's words for it that there was even a structure under the impressive mound of ice blasted snow - until Steve located the general area of the door and dug it out (about a metre down). As we ate our lunch we pondered on the fellow who lost his leg in the shelter to a boulder thrown from the crater, and the soldiers who died on the plateau. It's sobering how much power there is in the mountain.

So after lunch, off we set again, following down the ridge and dropping off to the Plateau. I decided to descend off the ridge a little early, then watched astonished as the others hit a sheer ice face and came down backwards on all fours. Scary stuff. But soon enough we were walking across the plateau, which was a surreal experience. "Like being on Antarctica," as Illona put it. With no frame of reference other than the "low" peaks around us, we could have been anywhere, at any altitude. There were quite a few groups up on the summit with us - did I mention that the superb weather made it the weekend-of-the-season?! - and we crossed paths and chatted to some of them. There was one group coming up to build a snow cave and overnight on the summit. Others had brought their skis and boards and were looking for good descents. The people around us were all that gave scale to some of the vistas - you'd be looking at a "close" view and then pick out a couple of ant-sized people and realise that the perspective was quite different to what you thought.

Soon enough we were at the other side of the plateau, on a saddle that divided the plateau from the north face. This was the moment of decision. Over and down to home - or turn right, go up the ridge, and visit Tukino and Te Heuheu as well? With time ticking away there was only a few hours of good daylight now. But we did the sums, there was sufficient time, and so Steve led Illona, Megan, Duncan, Kat, Cecilia and me up to the two summits. The ridge rose steadily up to our first peak, with a sheer drop back to the plateau on our right. We were getting tired - at least I was! - but after 40 minutes of slog, with Steve and Illona leading the way and the rest of us straggling behind, we reached the Tukino summit, a craggy peak with a huge drop back to the plateau on one side. We gingerly got as close to the summit as we dared and took photos.

Then it seemed to be an easy stroll to the rounded knob of Te Heuheu, which we reached bang on target at 3pm. A quick photo stop and it was time to come down, down a beautiful powder bowl that cried out to be skiied or boarded. Some of us perfected bum-sliding as we descended. As we reached the skifield, Steve headed with purpose to the top of the waterfall express - and before we knew it he'd sorted us rides down the hill on the chairlift. So some weary, grateful bodies slid into seats for the last part of our descent, and back to the lodge by 4:30.

What a superb day. Sublime weather, perfect conditions, a full day of walking, astonishing views of Ngarahoe, Taranaki, Tama Lakes and Taupo, the stark beauty of Ruapehu summit, and visiting four of the 12 Ruapehu peaks. It really doesn't get any better than that.

The AIC'ers were quite late back - 8pm or so. They'd seen sunset at the summit, and came down in the dark. Their photos from the top were breathtaking.

Sunday saw tired bodies getting ready and out to see another perfect day with cloudless blue skies and no wind. Does that really happen two days in a row at Ruapehu? Today was a skills learning day - self arresting, snow caves, and avalanche transceiver work. We headed off in the general direction of the ampitheatre, and soon found an ideal spot for all three activities, right by some AIC'ers practicing crevasse retrievals.

My first activity for the day was snowcave digging. Steve marked out two entrances to dig, and he started on one and I more slowly started on the other. I was thinking that this was going to be VERY slow and unproductive until I suddenly cut through the hard layer and into the soft snow that those in the know were expecting to find. Even then, though, I learned that digging a snowcave is slow going. After 3-4 hours of us all taking turns digging, we had only done a U-shaped tunnel and were ready to start digging out the platform. So not something you'd be doing in a blizzard as an emergency shelter. Talking it over with Craig, you'd be making a snowcave as a base to operate from on multi-day trips - if you'd somehow forgotten your alpine tent! A good tent on a platform with a wall (extended up to an igloo if necessary) looks like a better option to me.

In the middle of this, Steve came over to us and said in quite a calm voice given the circumstances, that there'd been a freak avalanche up on the flat part of the ridge (yes, a very freak avalanche!) and somebody was buried. But luckily he had some transceivers that we could use to find this person. After a bit of fiddling to get them in search mode, we pretty quickly located where this unfortunate individual was - but not before Illona did some pretty realistic self arrest practice as we crossed the very icy head of the ridge without crampons. She did a textbook job, I'm happy to report.

Using the transceiver was very straightforward, accurate (to about 10cm, with a 50m or so range) and quick. Very comforting, especially with the terrible avalanche season we're having this year. One of the stats I heard on the radio after the Coronet Peak avalanche, is that if you're found within 15 minutes you've got a 90% chance of survival, but past that time you it very rapidly drops to a mere 10% survival rate. I'd rate a transceiver as essential equipment, anywhere you've got any chance of avalanche.

The final activity to practice was self arresting, and we all spent quite a while throwing ourselves off this ledge, in all manner of positions and contortions. We all got the hang of it pretty well, though I managed to do a spectactular fail, and write off my bike helmet into the bargain as my ice axe caught by the spike and threw itself at my head. (That was the time I was trying to just launch myself with a blank mind, and not think of what I had to do in advance. More practice for me I think!). Marie was a great self arrest coach, and had us all drilled really well by the end of the day.

So after a morning of digging, and searching, and falling - and watching the AIC people save each other from crevasses too, as well as entertaining the passing skiers and boarders - it was time to trot back to the lodge, clean up and head off. After a far less eventful trip down the mountain, and an obligatory stop in Ohakune for a chocolate eclair, then all too soon we were back in Wellington and our Snowcraft course was over.

Coming into the course, I'd expected that I'd learn quite a bit, but I didn't count on it being just so much fun and having so much of a great experience as well. I've not just gained a whole heap of valuable information and advice and experience, I've also got some memories that I'll treasure. Events that are this good and happen this smoothly don't just happen - a huge amount of thanks has to go to Sharron, Steve and Marie for the superb organisation and planning that went into this. If you're reading this and haven't done much snow work before - make sure you get your name on Snowcraft 2010!

Weekend 2 Snowcraft photos:

Kat: http://picasaweb.google.com/Katha.in.NZ/SnowCraftII?feat=directlink

Paul: http://photos.pominnz.com/gallery/9054230_rsExY

Olivia: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=108209&id=580896005

Snowcraft 1 (11-12 July 2009)

We were primed, we were keen, we were prepared. After an evening's talk by Sharron, with an unusual disrobing by Steve and Marie to show us the gear we needed to wear, twelve of us were eagerly anticipating our first weekend on the snow with crampons and ice axes.

Friday we all assembled at the usual place at the usual time, to meet Steve with the fresh new club van. It’s absolutely identical to the other club van – which of course means that it’s ideally suited to 12 trampers, climbers or mountain bikers needing to drive for many hours to a road end or lodge. When I first saw the club van I thought it had been custom built exactly for the club’s needs, and I can't think of a single thing that would improve it. Some club members have fond memories of the duchess – but I confess I’m not one of them. Lying in a hot, stuffy, largely windowless cabin while we ground over the rimatakas just made me nauseous. That is, unless we were parked up at the side of the road having broken down again. I much prefer sitting in an airy van with modern aircon and damped suspension. Also there is the added security of bucket seats and seatbelts for everyone, so that you feel much safer if, as a hypothetical example, you find yourself sliding sideways down an icy road.

More on that later.

After a foggy trip to Ohakune, the skies cleared to show a fantastic vista of the mountain, beautifully lit by a full moon. The weekend was looking good, in spite of the weather forecast, which was dodgy to say the least.

Saturday saw all of us up bright and early, and after bacon and eggs we were kitted up and out by 8:30. It was warm (with some broken high cloud) and beautiful conditions for skiing and boarding, with light, calf deep powder. But that meant that it wasn't so good for walking in. Or practicing with crampons. Or practicing self arrests. Nonetheless we split into three groups (in my group was Nic, Paul, Catherine and Cecilia, led by Steve) and headed up from the lodge, keeping to the no-mans-land between the centennial chair and the west quad. What a great day! We hiked through the clear, crisp air to the gentle buzz of the snowmakers bucketing out snow over the centennial. Steve kept up a steady commentary of knowledge, advice, hints and tips as we went.

Once we'd hiked up about two-thirds of the way to the Ampitheatre, we began self arrest practice. This was easier said than done with the soft snow conditions! Nic was able to get a good speed up but the rest of us struggled. This made self arresting a little bit too easy! But we finally found a slope that was steep enough to give us the general idea.

Then we put on our crampons and practiced walking with them. It's an uncanny experience to be able to stand on steep ice and not fall down. For me, a lot of crampon use was learning to trust the steel spikes to hold me.

After an hour or two of throwing ourselves down hills, walking back up hills with spikes on, figuring out one end of an ice axe from the other, and generally getting accustomed to the challenges of a snowy, icy, steep, slippery environment, we headed back to the lodge, to talk about what we'd learned and where we'd been; as well as to play games like jenga and Five Hundred of course, and read some of the surprisingly good books that are up at the lodge. Normally you expect to find some abandoned Stephen Kings and Victoria Holts - but the lodge has great climbing and mountaineering books to keep you entertained.

After a while the other groups started filtering in, and Marie S with (** who? **) cooked us up a treat of spaghetti bolognese - and what I'm learning is a lodge specialty, the wrinkled brown not-sausage special just for the vegetarians. They followed this up with a yummy fruit crumble and we were all sated.

Sunday dawned - windy!! Really windy. I don't know just how windy but I don't think I've ever been in wind like that before. The beautiful dry powder of yesterday was getting ripped off the mountain, and probably ended up at the Chathams, the wind was howling so strongly. Conditions demanded we stay inside and concentrate on our theory, via a cutthroat, competitive quiz format. With chocolate fish from a 10 kg bag as reward.

First, we divided into teams and our first task was to come up with team names. We were encouraged to pick inspiring, heroic names from great mountaineers and their exploits. So Sharron was pretty disappointed when we ended up with the 'Mountain Goats', the 'Snow Angels', the 'HIMMS' and - Wild Man's Blubber?!

I have to say that the questioning covered areas that I didn't realise were directly connected to snowcraft and alpine techniques. For instance:

"What are three types of avalanche?"

"What are four things you should consider before beginning an alpine trip?"

"How do you mix the butter into the flour when making cheese scones?"

"What is the height of Mt Ruapehu?"

"How much flour should you use in cheese scones?"

It was a fun few hours where we learned a lot, such as the names of Marie's ice axe and crampons - Fluffy, Spike 1 and Spike 2 (not sure which crampon was which) and cleared up some dangerous misconceptions - such as the way ice forms on the windward, not the leeward side of rocks and structures, and that you never cook cheese scones in a slow oven.

After a close, tightly fought contest, the Mountain Goats were judged to have just pipped the Snow Angels to first place, and we were all sick of chocolate fish.

After the quiz session, we were all surprised and astonished to find that cheese scones were on the lunch menu! Cooked by Illona and Cecilia and yours truly. They weren't without controversy - we couldn't decide whether the cheese went into the mix, onto the top, or folded into the middle. So we compromised by putting cheese in all three places. Yum!

After lunch some of us did our only excursion of the day, to cart the rubbish out to the skips. We suited up in all of our gear with as little skin showing as possible and set off. I'm glad I wasn't walking any further than the top of the Bruce! But it was a huge contrast when we walked to the vans a couple of hours later - without the aid of crampons. What had been a fairly easy stroll with good grip underfoot turned into a slow, nerve-wracking totter down the path. The lack of grip was coupled with the wind gusts to keep that kept us constantly off balance and sliding. Once we were walking down the access road, the full force of the wind was buffetting and driving us. It was really hard to keep upright and balanced, and a few of us went for tumbles.

The journey down the hill was not without incident either. The Alpine Instruction Course van door got caught by the wind when they were putting the chains on, and now has a little dint where the door met the back bullbar. And on our way down the hill in the snowcraft van, the sidewind literally grabbed the back of the van and spun us around sideways. We must've got around about 45 degrees before Steve was able to ably pull everything back on course and get us stopped. Whew!

So what a fantastic weekend, with drama, excitement, wind, driving snow and chocolate fish. We were all eagerly anticipating the next installment in two weeks time.

Paul's photos: http://photos.pominnz.com/gallery/8891614_4qDft

Continued in Part 2 ...