Torres - Tasman Traverse: A Big Day Out
The Fox Neve and Main Divide. Taken from high up on the West Ridge of Tasman. - Ryan Colley
An exhilarating endeavor . The traverse takes you over three three thousand meter peaks, one being the countries second highest - Mt Tasman (3497m). Not an overly technical climb, the real crux of the route lies in its distance and so it is no surprise that the six kilometers of steep, exposed ground are usually done over two days. Remote and offering no easy escape down, once you start, you are committed to finishing the route.
I have wanted to climb Mt Tasman for a long time after looking up at the broad North Shoulder as a kid. A bucket list climb I guess. However, having just started climbing the bigger peaks in the Central Alps I did not imagine my first visit to the summit would be via such a demanding route.
We completed the traverse just on eighteen hours, starting at 3am from our bivvy at Katie’s Col and finishing at 9pm, Pioneer Hut.
Overall, the climb and descent was smooth and apart from some sketchy icefall coming off Tasman, the mountains let us pass in relative peace.
Rough Take-off
Here I was, pulling up half an hour late with steam hissing from under my bonnet. The adventure started in Wanaka, in a beat up 1998 Mitsubishi that had decided to conveniently crack a head gasket before leaving town. I doubted whether we would even make it out of town let alone Fox Glacier! A friend Jacob and I had planned this trip to the Fox after the conditions on Mt Cook looked lousy. I was heading to Paul Rodgers house outside of town to pick up Tim, another climber. I hadn’t met Tim yet, nor had Jacob but he had been in touch through a mutual friend and was eager to get into the mountains before heading back home to Tasmania.
We shook hands quickly and collected as many water bottles as we could find. The idea was to stop regularly along the way to refill the radiator in a bid to keep the engine cool enough. We left Albert town with ten liters, refilling in streams and rivers every half hour and topping up the car. Flying along at an average speed of fifty kilometers we finally made it to Jacobs place in Fox six hours later. I hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come…
Loading up at Glacier Helicopters.
The next day we booked a flight into the Fox Neve and waited until Jacob finished work. Our rough plan was to spend a few days camping on the Balfour Glacier and climbing the superb rock on Drake and Magellan. We had thought about the Torres - Tasman Traverse but after a recent Westerly storm, we decided that the route wouldn’t be in condition.
My excitement grew as the helicopter carried us past the green valley walls, over the Fox Glacier and into the all familiar heart of New Zealand’s Southern Alps. The Fox Neve looked to be in good nick for this time of year and our pilot Sam dropped us off on the snow plateau under Big Mac. We clambered out and gave him a thumbs up. Once he’d taken off the three of us roped up and headed towards Katie’s Col — our intended campsite. The westerly storm had indeed bought a heap of new snow with it and expecting a plug-fest we were pleasantly surprised to find was actually pretty firm. That’s when Jacob suggested that the traverse could be in condition. We all agreed it would be possible but didn’t discuss it again until later that night. Strong winds stopped us pitching the tent on Katies Col itself and instead we dug out a platform under the North Ridge of Torres.
From our bivy site under Katie’s Col.
We had all obviously been entertaining the idea of getting on the traverse and it didn’t take long for us to agree on the plan while scoffing back dinner. After taking a while to melt water for the day ahead we turned in at around 11.30pm, with alarms set for 2.30am. It was going to be a big day...
A Big Day Out
I woke up wearing a kind of nervous smirk. The "what the hell am I about to get myself into" grin.
We boiled water for coffee and broke camp. Taking only the bare minimum for the route, we decided to leave all bivvy gear behind and commit to a one day push with light packs. At 3am we headed over Katie’s Col, navigating the crevasses in the dark and started up the North West Rib of Torres peak.
4:30am - Torres Ridge.
It was a dark, moonless night. I could only see as far as my head-torch allowed (probably for the best) but the climbing was fairly easy up until the first rock step along the West Ridge. This section was straightforward but steep and without light it was a good move to rope up. After Tim's short lead we quickly packed away the rope and carried on towards the summit where we came across a second step. This one looked much more involved and potentially quite slow. We decided to rappel a short snow gully to find an easier way around. I peered around the corner on rappel and saw there was a great ice/mixed gully leading back up to the ridge. I jumped on the sharp end this time, climbing up solid ice and loose rock until I was just shy of the ridge where I bought the other two up. We stuffed the rope away and kept climbing on, reaching the sharp summit of Torres Peak at about 9am - 6 hours after leaving our sleeping bags.
The Summit of Torres, looking towards Mt Cook.
The sun was now up and we were able to see the route ahead. Jesus, it was big! Tasman stood proudly and even standing on a three thousand meter peak, I felt like I was looking up at the formidable walls of a castle. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to savor the views and so after a quick look ahead, we carried on down the col towards Tasman’s West Ridge.
An iced gully on the West Ridge of Tasman.
Going down is always harder than climbing up and the Col between the two peaks is steep and extremely exposed. While moving meticulously on tools and front points I made the mistake of looking down. I saw nothing but the glacier floor laying hundreds of meters below my feet. With my heart in my throat I decided to keep my eyes on my axes from then on.
We slowly made it down to the Col and covered some mixed ground up a long gully towards a short ice crux on Tasman’s West Ridge. Tim decided he wanted to solo the ice pitch but carried the rope to bring Jacob and I up. The wind was now howling around us and we were met with gale force easterlies as we climbed out of the gully.
The technical climbing was now behind us. We followed a narrow snow arete until it broadened into the summit ridge. The constant wind was making for slow, deliberate climbing as it threatened to pluck us off the mountain; each gust forcing us to plunge our axes into the snow and hunker down to avoid losing balance.
At 3pm we arrived at the summit of Mt Tasman with hugs and cheers all around. The views were incredible and we were absolutely stoked. My camera lens had fogged up so after a few pictures on the phone and a bite to eat we continued the traverse down the North Shoulder towards Lendenfeld peak.
On the summit ridge of Tasman.
The North Ridge is a long, narrow arete, often corniced with steep slopes either side forcing us to traverse on front points. We stayed on the north side the whole way down and after what felt like hours of calve-burning side-stepping, found ourselves at the shoulder building a V-thread. I was the last to rappel, taking out the back up screw I weighted the rope and headed down. Most likely due to climate change, a steep section of the slope has separated from the bottom of the ridge and is still splitting away (I think of it as yawning)— leaving a fifty-meter chasm of overhanging ice. I got to this section and Jacob yelled out to be careful not to knock a large shard of ice hanging from the roof. It wasn’t until I got down and looked up when I realized how precarious our situation was. We had to pull through and pack away a rope, still hundreds of meters off the deck, standing underneath hundreds of large ice daggers hanging above us like big, delicate chandeliers.
Spindrift and strong winds were persistent all day.
I voiced my concern as Jacob starting pulling the rope through the anchor and he just gave me a firm nod of agreement. We had nowhere to go until the rope was down anyway. I grabbed the end of the rope and started coiling as I heard a big gust of wind approaching from behind. With nowhere to run I hunkered down over Jacob as pieces of ice bombarded the slope around us. A fist size chunk smashed into my helmet making my ears ring. We were both yelling at this point, expecting one of the body to fridge-sized pieces to fall and knock us off our perch. Another big whack on my helmet and it stopped. We got the rope away quick-smart and climbed down and around a corner as fast as possible. That was one way to wake-up! I later found that the foam inside my helmet was shattered and the shell had cracked.
After the icefall incident we all regrouped at Engineer Col. By now we were all pretty drained and the walk over Ledenfeld passed in a daze. We met two fellahs in a snow cave on our way down Marcel Col but apart from that and a little rock fall off Haast the walk down to Pioneer was an uneventful trudge. I always forget how long that walk to the hut takes!
We were greeted by an excited Paul Rodgers and his clients. The four of them, along with some others in the hut had followed our progress over the afternoon and prepared some hot soup and food for us. Climbers eh, gotta love em! We were very thankful as we arrived with no food left, or sleeping bags for that matter.
We slept in until lunch the next day and after getting creative with hut food, plugged through the afternoon snow to Katie’s Col to retrieve our bivvy gear.
Thank you to Jacob and Tim for being solid partners and all-’round good buggers to spend the week with. It was an intense trip and I look forward to a few more before the season ends!
For any questions or comments feel free to get in contact.
Cheers, Ryan.
Kit used:
1x half rope
5x runners
Small rack of nuts and medium cams
4x screws
2x stakes
2x tools (one technical)