Mt. Cook
Last Wednesday night, Nate and I loaded Voodoo down with camping gear and food and started our journey towards north towards Mt. Cook. It was late when we left, after 10:00 if I remember correctly. With the knowledge that neither of us are "morning people" or particulary speedy at getting packed and moving, we decided to drive to Mt. Cook through the night so that we'd wake up there and be ready to rock and roll in the morning. I quite like driving at night. I spent a lot of time on Interstate 10 between Austin in New Orleans and everywhere in between over the past few years. I always found that highway to be easier to traverse at night. Having both spent the past few months working night jobs, there was no way we were going to get to sleep before 12:30 anyway. However, we realized along the way that we were missing all the scenic views of approaching Mt. Cook in the day light. We shrugged this small loss off and tried to slip quietly into our bunks at the hostel without waking up the six sleeping travellers in the room. We were out of the hostel and in the DOC office by 10:30 the next morning.
The DOC agent booked our beds in the Mueller Hut for a hefty $35 per person. She then advised us that the 1000 meter climb to the hut was alpine walk (above the tree line) and we should be prepared for snow, rain or both. She suggested waterproof boots, gaiters, and trekking poles. This caused a little uneasiness as I looked down at my worn out New Balance trail runners. We stopped into the local outfitters and rented gaiters. This provided a little bit of reassurance until I saw the 65 plus year old couple that had booked right before us heading out on the trail. They were decked out in full blown mountaineering gear: beanies, boots, poles, and packs about half the size of ours. I questioned whether I had the proper hardware to get this job done. We stopped back by Voodoo, filled the camelbaks up, layered up and chucked our overloaded packs on.
I've had startling good luck when it comes to weather and long walks and this day would be no different. The sun was shining bright and there was nice drafty breeze kept the mountain air swirling about us. We walked on a flat graded trail for about 15 minutes before we started climbing. At the this point our path ceased to be a guided trail and became a route. A trail is simple and easy. You are either on it or you aren't. Routes are a little bit more complex. A route is a series of markers, usually orange in color. There is a somewhat obvious path between each marker, but it's basically up to you to get from one to another. Routes are more technical. The rocks are bigger and there is some hand climbing involved. We quickly realized when we moved from the trail to the route that we misguided the warming power of all of our layers. Once I took my mid-layer shirt off I was surprised to find I was perfectly comfortable in a base layer thermal and a snow jacket shell....as long as I kept moving. When we stopped at the top with all the snow and wind it didn't matter how many layers I had on I was eventually going to get cold.
We encountered a quirky little hiking group on the way up consisting of two guys, a Russian and a German, and an Israeli girl. We continued walking with them for most of the way up. I eventually got seperated from the group as we encountered more snow. I became very conservative with my footing and I guess this really slowed me down as everyone else appeared to be confidently stepping through the snow covered rocks. At one point I became truly concerned that my shoes wouldn't hold up against the terrain. But a few minutes later I watched a guy walk down the steepest the stretch of snow on the walk and was overjoyed to see him wearing a pair of nikes. He smiled at my shoes and assured me that if I could keep them from getting too wet I would be alright. This was encouraging, but slowed me down even more as I began to obsessively avoid any sign of water.
We made it to the hut right at 3 hours and 45 minutes, about 15 minutes over the suggested time. The hut sits on a plateau (I think) surrounded by mountains. This plateau was covered in snow as pictured below.
Most of the pictures leading up to the snowy ones are either looking behind us into the Mt. Cook Valley where we started, or they are views of Mt. Sefton, which is due east of the hut if I'm not mistaken. We were the second group of many to follow that were arriving at the hut, which sleeps 28 and must have been near capacity that night. I found that the hut provided a perfect mix of simple comforts while still maintaining a very rugged feel. It is constructed completely of wood and contains no sort of mechanical heating or cooling system. Large windows are found on all walls to allow sunlight to warm up the hut during the day. At night the hut serves as nothing more than a shield from the wind. However we had no problems sleeping as there were about a dozen of us in a space no larger than a small garage. That's a lot of warm bodies to draw heat from. There is neither running water in the hut, nor power outlets. But there are sinks, gas burners and water tanks outside. There is ample lighting that runs off of some sort of battery system. I did not to think to ask about this, but there were definitely no generators running. Everything is on a timer in order to prevent overuse. The gas lines are on a 30 minute timer and the lights were on about an hour cycle. There are no bathrooms inside the hut, but an outhouse about 40 ft. away whose path was quite tricky to navigate once it got dark.
We checked in with Rod, the hut warden. Rod is a kiwi who works in Australia as a paramedic. He is part of a volunteer program that keeps the Mueller Hut manned 24 hours a day. He arrived at the hut, carrying all of his own gear and food and a few supplies for the hut last Sunday. His service calls for him to stay up there for a full week. It's a quite a committment when you think about it. From a very strategic location outside the hut he can get a cell phone signal and he also has a radio that he talks to the DOC with twice a day. Other than that, no communication with the outside world for a week. Rod turned out to be a really interesting character and later provided us with some dried onions for our pasta.
Throughout the afternoon we were awarded several great views of Mt. Cook as the clouds played peek-a-boo with the faces seemingly carved into the snow. Everytime the clouds lifted away from the mountain the entire hut would run outside with their cameras to take pictures. Rod claimed that it was the best weather day he had seen all week. Nate stayed close to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of a falling avalanche, which are common. We ate better than most of our fellow hut travellers that night. They were carrying the basics: dried noodles and powdered sauces. Not us. We realized that one of the reasons our packs had been so heavy during the day was due to the amount of food we were carrying which included a pound and a half of ground meat, pasta, hummus, peanut butter, jelly, sliced bread, pita bread, a roll of salami, trail mix, banannas and about a dozen Nature's Valley bars. We also brought our own frying pan and pot. The hut has no waste disposal system. It's pack in, pack out so even though we ate most of what we brought up there, we had all the rubbish to deal with as well.
Two Americans arrived later in the afternoon and taught us an interesting new card game called Yannif. They had learned it from some Israeli soldiers. Apparently the game is immensely popular in the Israeli army, where it originated. It's a pretty simple play and discard game but moves much faster than gin rummy or 31, which we play quite frequently. So after a 500 point game of Yannif in which we polished off Nate's flask full of scotch it was time for bed. I slept well in the hut, being the last one to rise out of his sleeping bag.
We enjoyed breakfast and an intense game of scrabble with our hiking friends from the previous day, before setting out to descend down the mountain. We took our time going down, snapping plenty of pictures along the way. We left the Mt. Cook Village smiling with content at a great road trip.
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