An Olivine Odyssey

An Olivine Odyssey Christmas offers the keen tramper a rare window of opportunity – the chance to “really” get into the mountains, the “real” mountains, that is. Christmas 2003 was no exception and the lure of the Olivine Ice Plateau was too Nestled in Mt Aspiring National Park, set deep in a defined “wilderness area”, this region has been a lure for many a tramper, but the difficulties of getting there are driven by the distance from home, inconsistent weather, the bush bashing, the lack of food-drop opportunities and the need for some alpine skills. Lugging 35kg on one’s back hardly seems like a holiday, but beyond the Dart Valley lay a jewel we all wanted to discover.

Prussick practise for Paul on his impromptu AIC course (Grant Newton)

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004

Grant Newton great an attraction to pass by.

We had time on our side, or so we thought. The luxury of 2 weeks seemed sufficient to overcome whatever the weather gods could throw at us. But beginning on a forecast that included fresh snow and wild conditions, we were scratching our heads. Leader Geoff was already into plan B and plan C scenarios, with base camp at Dart Hut or Cascade Saddle becoming more likely. There may be plenty of opportunity to experience some fine scenery, but it wasn’t the Olivine Ice Plateau! But there were 4 others on the trip who saw two options: the trip in a clockwise direction or the trip in an anticlockwise direction. Even a nervous leader must therefore succumb to his enthusiastic punters.

This wasn’t the standard sort of group heading into these remote areas, that is, if there is such a thing as standard in such a rarely visited region. Of the 5, the alpine experiences were a little light, but never fear: Paul had been to the plateau before! Redline opportunities around the Whitbourn and Joe were enough to lure him back.

The skies were grey, the drizzle fell, the sandflies swarmed and the strain of lifting the packs left us gasping; it was 3:30pm and we were still in the car park at the Dart road-end! The preferred clockwise option had been abandoned and now the anticlockwise plan was in force. The advantage of this plan was the gentle flat track of the Dart Valley under the heavy loads, and the warm, dry huts to shelter from a gloomy forecast.

It may not have been wilderness yet, but it was true Middle Earth – the scenes unfolded, but we only gave a damn about a warm dry nights sleep in Daleys Flat hut. It may have been warm and dry but the peaks and more were dusted in snow. In fact, snow lay right to the bushline, but it was a clear morning to start the first full day. All but Jonathan had been up this valley at some stage. His thoughts must have been swinging from this new scenery to the thought of returning to the UK in 2 weeks’ time. A working holiday in New Zealand had introduced him to tramping and mountaineering. What better way to conclude that year with a trip to Mt Aspiring National Park? Though, would this weather stop us reaching our goal? Might we be stranded in the mountains, while Jonathan’s plane departed Auckland airport, Heathrow bound, with a spare seat?

The massive new Dart Hut offered an undercover opportunity to practise those alpine skills learnt in AIC courses, but not put into practice. ”Never fear: Paul had been to the plateau before!” we had thought - but this reassurance was put to the test en route to the hut. In general conversation with the understated tone of a typical tramper, Paul suggested he would need some guidance on putting on crampons. Must be that the style of crampon was different to what he had used before? Wrong! Paul confessed to never having worn crampons – Geoff was alarmed.

“But you’ve been to the plateau before?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t bother about crampons then,” responded Paul.

“What about using a rope?”

“Oh, we carried one to help us cross rivers.”

Andrew Chisholm wanders up the Whitbourn Glacier (Grant Newton)

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 The startled look on Geoff’s face continued to grow. Assumptions behind us, we concluded this would also be Paul’s AIC course. After the initial startled look, we remembered we had two weeks, we didn’t need to rush things and, besides, Paul’s experience in the outdoors would ensure he could pick things up quickly.

The heavens opened, the sleet fell and inside the warm hut, the rope came out. A bunch of trampers satisfied with a Rees / Dart wander looked on with suspicion as we spread across the hut practising a crevasse rescue. Female trampers offered a distraction for a couple of the punters, but thoughts soon turned to the Whitbourn Glacier which lay ahead. Once again we wondered whether we would complete our trip, or would the weather defeat us?

The rustle and bustle of a typical tramping hut brought us to life in the morning. The drizzle and sleet wasn’t helping the process of moving, but we concluded it was no use being in the Dart when it cleared. Stepping into the Whitbourn, the weather did clear, the packs barely seemed lighter, but we were making progress, progress off the main trail. The average punter who wanders the Rees / Dart probably concludes the trip thinking they have seen great scenery, but after the short detour on a rough track, the Whitbourn Valley offers a glimpse that makes the Rees / Dart seem like a bland wander in the park. Vertical rock faces rear from the flat valley floor, snow covered peaks hang overhead, and the human presence seems so small, so feeble, and so helpless.

It feels almost like summer, but the fresh snow on the boulders makes the going treacherous and tedious, so it is with some relief that we finally hook into the rope and set foot on the glacier. The view is stunning but it is already late afternoon, the slow travel on the snow-covered rocks has sucked the time away. Barely on the glacier and the flat terrain offers an ideal camp. The morning’s wander would be a climb above the glacier. Crevasses hidden with fresh snow suggest the safest route would be a high sidle. We now feel settled into the wilderness, tomorrow we will be standing atop Whitbourn Saddle ...... or so we anticipate …… but then we have forgotten the extent of the recent weather.

Crampons prove handy for the first few minutes, but soon we are plugging in deep snow. Paul manages his first stint with crampons aplomb, looking almost like an “experienced campaigner”! Progress is slow, summer has arrived, the sun beats down, sapping the energy from our bodies, but none of the weight from our heavy packs. Crevasses appear, we make detours; then whoosh!

I sat on the ground, one leg on top and the other leg dangling in a crevasse. Okay maybe another detour was required! Actually our path was at the very end of the crevasse, and it doesn’t help being the ”fatty” near the back. The detours continued and come late afternoon we finally stepped atop Whitbourn Saddle, for one of the most delightful campsites possible. The 360-degree panorama included views down the Whitbourn Glacier, the Snow White Glacier and, to Camping on Whitbourn Saddle (Grant Newton)

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 the left of Pivot Peak, the Snowball Glacier. And of course many peaks soared above these glaciers. The sky was clear and the wind somewhere else as we sat down and consumed dinner. The silence was deafening.

The warm temperatures left us with the dodgy proposition of plodding through soft snow towards Mystery Col. Our plan was a New Year’s Eve wander down to Williamson Flats. Roped up and attempting to take care, it didn’t take long for a snowball to be triggered, one that gained size and momentum. In a few seconds it looked like a big white wheel was cascading out of control. Though uneventful, it made us further aware that avalanches need careful consideration.

The view continued to capture us, whether looking up to the spire that is Mt Aspiring or the view up the Joe, for behind those peaks lay the ultimate goal, the Olivine Ice Plateau. The dense bush below though was the serious problem!

A welcome wash in the stream and then New Year was celebrated with a bonfire on the flats. The conditions were calm, but the skies were becoming hazy. The window of opportunity had been longer than forecast, but it was set to close. Once more thoughts of being stranded started to tinker with the mind and the next morning’s slow wander threading our way up the Joe offered hints that a slog was ahead. There were few known campsites in the valley and a delightful clearing we found in mid afternoon got the better of us. The rain was starting, but this

Geoff Keey negotiates the Joe River (Grant Newton)

beat trying to camp amongst the undergrowth.

Sandflies swarmed, the rains fell, the bush thickened and a tedious wander amongst the river boulders started to feel easy, at least relative to the bush. But alas, the river option soon proved unfeasible shortly after a cold bleak stop sheltering under an overhand in the riverbank. It’s been a long day, the rock biv still remains a mystery but we camp, apparently near a rock bridge.

Geoff now has a problem with his ankle. Will this force us back? But we’re at the base on the ridge to the plateau! In fact, is going over the plateau the easiest route out? Surely not the miserable Joe all over agin?

Instead we rest. With midday upon us, we pack and head to the rock bridge. A rock bridge seems to be too impressive a description, especially with heavy packs, but some good practice with the ropes and we make an assisted crossing. An hour later the bush of the Joe is behind us. This is a significant moment: our chances of succeeding in our mission look good and Geoff’s ankle is just holding up. A bleak weather forecast, though, hangs over us. Hopefully we can make the plateau before this hits.

The rain hits, we’re still in the tents, its arrival is earlier than expected. We read, we talk, and we wonder when we will have the chance to make the final push to the plateau. Will this weather stay for days? Will our return be delayed? Retracing our steps is not realistic. The day seems to take forever, Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 the rain not letting up. By now the diet is taking effect and I feel sorry for Jonathan who has to share a tent with me. The wind may be blowing outside, yet inside the tent, the wind is worse.

The next morning it is almost the same. The same thoughts return, we hope this will be the end of the rain, but not until 4pm can we venture outside and down onto the snow. Our tents now sit perched on pedestals approximately 40 cm higher than the surrounding snow, courtesy of the rain.

The views of the upper Joe are dramatic, though our thoughts now must turn to tomorrow. Destiny Ridge awaits.

The conditions are cold, the crampons in use and the travel fast for a hour or two, but around the corner lies a tricky schrund and crevasses big enough to swallow buses appear everywhere. Setting up the rope takes time, the travel is painfully slow, the wind is bitter and the cloud makes the crevasse spotting difficult. The temperatures warm, the wind drops and we are in the cloud but standing on Solution Col, our entrance to the plateau – we are finally here!

The temperature continues to soar, the visibility decreases to 20 metres but following lunch it eventually lifts to unveil the beauty of this spot. Our “walk in the park” has been well worth it. Another fine day is forecast so we choose to spend the night on the plateau. The sunset is beautiful, though sunrise is even better. It’s cold, clear and icy as the sun rises, lighting up the peaks of the Darren Mountains, but it’s a slow journey down to the valley. It’s with some disappointment that we leave such a spectacular place, but be still have a long walk ahead. Paul gingerly progresses down the slope, the crampons still a novel experience.

We barely consider the bush bash to the Olivine ledge; it’s the river crossing that has us worried. However today that won’t be an issue as we swim and then easily ford the Forgotten River before moving up the Olivine River. Immediately thoughts of the Joe return. This again is not easy travel, but even this bush and tomorrow’s forecast bad weather can’t stop us ….. surely?

Arriving at a delightful campsite, we consider camping, but the forecast ferocious weather could stop us in our tracks. A side stream, Sunset Creek, separates us from relative safety. Please not a weather delay now! The bad weather doesn’t arrive till mid morning. The creek is behind us and it’s lunch in one rock biv, followed by dinner in another. The Beansburn’s huge rock biv offers limited refuge from the conditions, so the tent is considered. We awake to Andrew’s comment: “It’s a case of a few spits Enjoying an afternoon rest on the Olivine Ice Plateau (Grant Newton)

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 blown in on top or a big puddle lying underneath”. He was in the tent. Nobody wants to move, except I, and that’s only because I’ve drunk too much coffee. It may have been bleak inside the rock biv, but outside it’s even bleaker! It is 11 o’clock before we don the parkas and packs and set forth down the valley.

It’s still wet, but we arrive at the Dart in the afternoon. All that’s left is a jet boat ride. We’ve made it! Or have we? What if there aren’t spaces in the jet boat? It does arrive; we whizz down to sunny Glenorchy.

The weather threw what it could, a dodgy ankle threatened, but 2 weeks was sufficient after all. The 747 to Heathrow wouldn’t have a spare seat.

We turn and look back at the fierce black skies at the heads of the Beansburn and Dart valleys. Somewhere behind there lies a land almost untouched, a land more spectacular than I’d seen before.

The group was Geoff Keey, Jonathan Dilley, Paul Hughes, Andrew Chisholm and Grant Newton.

Olivine Medley (Andrew Chisholm)

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004