Wye Creek was like a viral infection, once it had been planted in our heads by Jason and Mark we could not shake it from our consciousness, it would haunt us until we decided enough was enough and we would replace our annual Blue Lake ice-climbing trip with a much more ambitious overseas journey into the mythical dimension of flawless vertical blue ice-columns just waiting to be smashed to smithereens by our crampons and ice-axes. Wye Creek was just like a dream – perhaps a fake website – just too good to be true, a pipedream from which we would surely awake rudely and with a bitter aftertaste. Nevertheless, on August 13, Mark, Will and Roman boarded Air New Zealand and took the short two hour and thirty minute flight straight into Queenstown. One of my NZ mates Kerry had recommended his friend Anto’s (a very keen hunter) place for our accommodation, and once we got past the fake ducks, deer and other target practice models in his garage,  it turned out to be the perfect base camp in between our adventures into the back country of Aotearoa. Upon arrival we hired a car and headed straight into Queenstown, where Small Planet turned out to be our one stop shop for all of our gear: Alpine touring skis, boots, skins, ice-axes, climbing shoes, bouldering pads you name it we hired the lot. It was like gear heaven for gear junkies, boys toys and kids in a lolly store. Bryan would have been proud of us and Will gave the staff a run for their money, the questions kept on coming from super-fur skins to 200-400 something thermal underwear there was no stopping us.

Will	Roman	Mark

Somehow we did manage to get out of the store and after we booked our return ticket to the Remarkables ski field it took some time to explain to the sales person that we would not return on the same day. He looked strangely at us when we told him that we would hop back on the bus five days later but he just smiled and shook his head in disbelieve? After all there was nothing up there and nowhere to go:  oh how wrong he was - there was ice and plenty of it.

Approaching the ice	Morning Basecamp	Heli ice climbing
ice tunnel	Roman and Will	Backcountry skiing

Early the next morning we found ourselves with massive packs lining up for our bus in Queenstown, when Will disappeared for a toilet stop, by the time he returned we had left and all attempts to persuade the driver to wait for him were to no avail. So we were off to a good start!  When he caught up with us later in the ski resort, it was time to tackle obstacle number one: how to get to the top of the ski lift without a ticket?  With our ginormous packs we looked like a bunch of porcupines at a nudist’s colony but the lift attendant was impressed and willing to let us on for free, at least until his boss turned up and told us to get lost. (Mental note: the guide says to take the Alta Chair to the top but now there is a new chairlift called: Sugar Bowl Chair, which takes you very close to the saddle.) We made it to the top eventually and then it was time to attach our skins to the skies for the short but steep ascent up to the saddle forming the gateway to the back country beyond. The vistas were vast and the landscape was completely covered in blankets of powder. From here it was about five kilometres of downhill skiing to the final hurdle a steep ridgeline that descents about 400-500 meters into Wye Creek valley.

The descent was steeper than expected and we had to find a route down various snow-filled gullies which were tricky on skies and switching to crampons was the go. This is where we got our first glimpse of the main ice field and it simply took our breath away: the guide does not come anywhere near expressing the enormity of the multi-level falls and blue ice columns that crowded our vision. There are dozens of falls stacked on top of each other to produce multi-pitch ice routes of every imaginable difficulty. We discovered the hard way that our sixty meter rope was barely enough to cover the first pitch, and we would struggle with the huge proportion of the individual pitches. A seventy meter rope coupled with a multi-pitch approach would be the best strategy. One route top to bottom would probably take all day for 3-4 bitches of impeccable ice. We will be back for that task.

But first things first, we set up camp opposite side of the creek with easy access to running water and full frontal view of the icy vista beyond, that’s where our dreams would go to at night for the next five days. The weather was impeccable, cold bluebird skies with snowfall on the first and last day and freezing conditions for perfectly formed ice in the morning: we were cashing in our lucky chips for a couple of blizzard days at Blue Lake.

The second day dawned cold and we had spent our first twelve hour sleep on the snow. Porridge for breakfast and lots of coffee with the full power of our MSR fuel stove. By the time we were geared up and ready to leave camp, the sun hit the bottom of the ice falls and our smiles lengthened considerably: we were going to climb blue ice in sunshine?  Well, not quite because the sun only hits for about one hour and then disappears behind a ridge, beautifully baking our tents in glorious warmth. And we watched it all from the icy shade of our belay stations high above the valley, but no complaints, the shade was our friend and were we found the ice columns.

Day 1 on the ice: The mesmerising Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (WI3 first half 30m)

Mark	Roman	Will

First day on the ice was spent on the very left side of the falls, where we climbed several variations of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (WI3 60m first pitch only). This was followed by Slippery Customer Variation (WI3 30 meters). Most of the day we were looking for easy routes that we could ‘junk’ into small bits but even these ‘smaller’ icefalls were pushing our rope to the limit. When I arrived on top of the first fall Mark and Will shouted with a smile that I had gone 5 meters past the half-way mark: thanks guys! Luckily once we removed some ice-screws the rope just reached with inches to spare and that was just the warmup.

On our next pitch of much steeper ice to the left we discovered that right below our complex belay anchor of snow-stacks and ice-screws was a perfect belay station in the rock. This was pure serendipity and we discovered many more belay anchors throughout our time at Wye Creek, which made life a lot easier when rappelling and cleaning a route. After a few laps on the steeper ice-falls we decided to finish the day with an easy finish at the far left of the crag, where a not so steep looking ramp would lead to the same belay finish thirty meters above. This was Slippery Customer Variation (WI3 30 meters) and it turned out to be a tough lead with our axes dislodging sharp dinner plates of ice that exploded into our faces and hurtled down towards our belayer below. Roman coped a junk of ice that nearly dislodged his shoulder, Will’s hand was smashed by a large junk of ice and both Mark and Will dodged several spinning ice disks that would have taken their heads clean off.  We decided to move our belay stations well towards the side after that. Our first day at the ice ended with a freeze-dried feast of potato mash and roast chicken with hot miso soup, lots of chocolate and another massive sleep.

Day 2 on the ice: The icefall and The Iron Curtain (WI 5 first tier)

Roman ice curtain	Will on the Iron Curtain	Free climbing	Will ice curtain
Mark on the Iron Curtain	Bridging the ice	Will dry tooling	lunch ledge

Day three at Wye Creek dawned even brighter than the previous one and we finally realised that this was the jackpot and we were rewarded for all the Blue Lake hell we went through in the previous years. It was time to cash in our good luck chips and head straight for the massive multi-pitch ice-curtain on the far right of the ice field. A massive ramp divided the lower section of the ice from the upper tier and we climbed up to explore the nature of the ramp. What we found was startling: a massive ice waterfall had frozen into place about one hundred meters long with many columns reaching high above. Hidden behind it was a perfect path – a cave behind the frozen waterfall. When we climbed inside we found bolts everywhere leading up the rock. Our heads were spinning: ice or rock; ice or rock? What the hell let’s just do both! So we started free-climbing and dry-tooling our way up the rock to a top belay point and then smoothly transitioned into the waterfall ice on our way down. It was our first hard-core dry-tooling session and we took many falls until one of my axes hit me square in the head (luckily protected by my helmet; phew!). This climb was probably a part of Heli Campers (M6,5b,25m) and here is the description from the guide:

Steep moves up to the cave. Either use your hands on the rock to get into the cave or stem to the icicle just after the 1st bolt. Exit around the pillar on the left (uphill) side and head up for 7m or so to where you can get a v-threat anchor. Lionel Clay, 2004.

We decided that was close enough and rappelled down one pitch to set up a toprope anchor for the blue ice waiting below. Once again we had to push the sixty meter limit of our rope and once again we were lucky to find a perfect belay station hidden amidst the verglased rock. Wye Creek was full of hidden treasures and the next route was an almost perfectly vertical thirty meter icefall with a small shelf about half-way for a brief rest stance. This was our first WI 5 grade called The Iron Curtain (first tier only to the half way ledge) and it pushed us to our limits. Several laps on this classic later we were running out of light fast and the freeze dried dinner was beckoning from below. We had spent our third day at Wye creek with not another soul in sight. The ice was ours alone – all of it and we were not going to share it.

Day four in the morning was when the helicopter dropped of eight people and several parties arrived on foot during the day? Suddenly the place was crowded with ice-climbers? After a lazy breakfast we discovered that all the good and easy spots had been taken and what was left basically was the middle, tough, long, exposed vertical blue ice columns disappearing skyward. What the hell, we might as well go for the big ones now. We ended up picking the fattest most impressive two-tiered icefall of them all with a big fat rock on top where we knew from previous experience that a nice cosy belay station would be waiting for us. It was called Quite Bent (WI5, 55 m) and there was no way dodging the lead on this one, we had to go straight up – left and right variations were impossible due to overhangs so we had to punch straight through the guts of the falls. When Will called out that I had passed the half-way mark on the rope I thought: “not again, how the hell will we get down?”  But with the belay station on the rock only five meters away I pushed on.  My luck was running out, there was nothing? It was the perfect spot, but nothing. Why oh why? I rigged a two ice-screw belay and took out all the gear on my way down mentally exhausted; the rope once again just reached. Mark was keen and decided he wanted it all. He started at the lowest possible point of the icefall and went straight up the steepest part. He cruised the WI5 and never looked tired. It occurred to us that Mark brought his fancy new V-threat tool and if we could rig a rope belay through the ice we could resolve to clean the route successfully. It was getting late and Roman went up to attempt to set the belay. It worked perfectly first go with five millimetre cord threaded straight through the ice as a top-rope anchor. That set the stage for Will’s final climb of the trip. He asked me to move the belay about five meters to the absolute steepest part of the ice-fall without any rests. He wanted it All and did not disappoint: almost 30 meters of brand-spanking ninety-degree virgin blue ice: he loved every second of it. Once again we were chasing shadows down to our camp site for dinner. That night a snow storm visited and enveloped our camp in spindrift, soft and gentle with light touches of wind. Late at night we saw torches high above us in the ice tunnel we had found: climbers were revelling in the lightshow created by their head torches: we will have to remember this for next time we thought as the snow drifted us off to sleep.

Day 3 on the ice: The amazing lower face of Quite Bent (WI5, 55 m)

Will and Mark	Roman	Mark

It was day five at Wye Creek and business time. While we had cruised down on our skies upon the approach we now had to climb out of the steep valley and ski uphill for five kilometres to the final steep saddle leading back to the Remarkable ski field. It was going to be a tough day with our heavy packs. A five AM alpine start saw us ready to leave by seven AM, we skipped breakfast and saved the last of our salami and cheese (our daily lunch ritual) for the half way mark. The steep ascent up to the first ridge was tough going, first on skies and skins, and higher up on crampons: it took two solid hours to climb out from the valley in deep snow. Then the five kilometer ski up towards the base of the saddle was a delight: the sun broke through and we began to find our rhythm. We were in cruise mode now and we finished with a quick lunch just before the steep saddle began. When we climbed the saddle the wind and snow increased dramatically due to the funnelling effect of the saddle. This was today’s crux!  The wind nearly pushed us backwards with our heavy packs and we scrambled over the lip of the final saddle only to end up in a ferocious wind tunnel.  We needed to get out of this hellhole fast and descended as quickly as we could to the welcoming ski field below. There was one final hurdle to overcome and this one belonged to Mark alone. Will and Roman descended quickly on skies but Mark as usual had the heaviest pack combined with the least experience on Alpine Touring skies; I will never know how he managed to survive the trip in one piece?  He was so locking forward to cruising down on the lift! But a cruel lifty denied him this last pleasure and he marched the last kilometres proudly down the hill. Well done.

Wye Creek was everything we dreamt of and much more than we could expect. The weather gods were kind to us and only hinted at what could have been out there. We will never tease them again.
After five days we arrived back in Queenstown and the local Speights never tasted better. Will went on a shopping spree bender that would even make the gear master Bryan blush and there was barely enough merchandise left to do business after he had finished. We were happy to ship him out of town the next morning and loaded him up with all the heavy gear we had, thanks Will.
Mark and I weren’t quite finished yet. After a day at the Treble Cone ski field near Wanaka – the largest ski resort in the Southern hemisphere – and with tired legs we managed to head straight to the local climbing gym at the Queenstown Event Centre, where the local instructor Paul had developed a nifty way to simulate ice-climbing on plastic holds. A pair of wooden ice-axes with leather loops at the end was used to ‘pull’ on holds to simulate ice-climbing. Mark and I got our lead passes the day before so that we could enjoy an ice-climbing training session indoors. Let’s just say we went to bed that night with flaming forearms and a few new tricks up our sleeves. We had one more day left and almost no gear, so we went back to our favourite shop Small Planet and hired rock climbing shoes and a crash pad. There were rumours of massive boulders on a private land which were kept secret because of the amazing rock quality. We couldn’t resist and went out to find them. In fact you could not miss them: The Jardines, are located near Route 6 just ten minutes’ drive past the Remarkables turnoff and are easily spotted from the road. They are the size of houses and litter the local landscape as if placed there by some secret force. Pure granite with quartzite crystals and razor sharp perfect holds, steep overhangs, mantles and traverses made us scream for mercy in the late afternoon. We had managed to climb a dozen problems on four massive conspicuous boulders with probably a hundred more to go. Our fingers couldn’t take much more and after I dropped a hold on Mark’s head and nearly dislocated my shoulder on an easy move we decided it was time to bail for a final pub visit in Queenstown. The chicken parmigiana never tasted better and we flew out the next morning.

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Activitiy Summary:

Ice Climbing	Bouldering	Dry-tooling	Skiing	Simulation Ice-Climbing

 

If you want see more photos go HERE.

 

See the Resource page for 2006 and 2007 financial date.

 

Roman 27 August 2015