Starry Night on Lendenfeld

Slouching in the Pioneer Hut with sore feet and tired bones from our climb of Douglas Peak, we opted for a rest day. They say alpinists have poor memory- we found that to be true and after just a few lazy hours in the morning and some time to realize how damn good conditions were, Cam McAlpine, Julien Poncet and myself found ourselves sitting around the table devising a new plan with devilish grins. The weather was top notch for the next few days and we had to take advantage of it!

Staying in a hut, we didn’t bring sleeping pads. The half pad from the back of my CiloGear 30L W/NWD worksack came in clutch, as well as the rope and some old thin beat up foam pads that we found underneath a few of the bunks. I’d brought my Rab Mythic 600 sleeping bag and that was going to be plenty warm for where we were headed. Around 3:30pm we set off across the Albert Glacier from the hut with overnight gear to sleep on the summit of Lendenfeld (3194m) (marked with a red X on the photo above, Tasman to the right) so we were in position to climb the North shoulder of Mt. Tasman (3,497m) the next morning. It was a bit of a slog in the hot sun as we made our way to Marcel Col where we’d gain the ridge to access the summit. The hole in the O-Zone layer lies near New Zealand thus it is extremely hot in the sun. I lost my chapstick and paid the price that day. Over the coming days, my lips would be cracking and purple, with painful sun blisters swelling. It was so sunny that I even made a duct tape nose guard fixed to my Revo Traverse glasses to keep it in the shade.

Given we were traveling late in the day in warm conditions, we poked into a few crevasses working through the icefall. However a narrow couloir on the lefthand side, under Mt. Haast, provided a bypass of the bulk of the icefall and a more direct shot to the Col. Finally, the shade swept across the upper Heemskerck Glacier and our sweat cold. Oh my did that feel good! Unroping at the col to solo up the steep (but not too steep) ridge face to the summit, we added on a jacket and got going each on our own time. Little did Julien realize that whoever goes first has to break trail up the 200m wall! Cam and I had a solid laugh after he set off and let him do the dirty work as we’d broken trail up to the Col from the hut.

From the col I glanced out in the direction we came at the glaciers snaking and winding their way to the valley and the ocean in the distance. On the other side, over the edge of the massively corniced ridge, I caught views I’d yet to see. Below the cornice the face dropped off in steep relentless style all the way down to the Grand Plateau Glacier. A small red dot lie on the other side- the Grand Plateau Hut and beyond that New Zealand’s largest glacier- the Tasman. More importantly, a view I’d been waiting months to see beckoned above the Grand Plateua: Aoraki (Mt. Cook). At 3,724m this was New Zealand’s tallest peak, and it was one I’d come for. Future plans would ideally have me climbing the steep and icey South Face which I couldn’t see from this position, and traversing the summit ridge to the highest point. But there, towering above the Southern Alps and plainly in sight, was New Zealand’s famed “Highest mile” stretching across the sky from Middle Peak to Hi Peak. Though we wouldn’t be standing on the true summit. In the native Maori culture, Aoraki is known as the Chief and no one stands higher than the Chief, which I planned to honor. The stoke was high and I ventured off behind Julien toward the top of Lendenfeld with Aoraki and Tasman in view. The two giants of New Zealand. These were the scenes I traveled here for.

Given that I didn’t have to break trail, the going was pretty easy, though decently steep and it didn’t take us long to gain the upper summit ridge where the angle lowered. A few minutes later and we were together on the summit in the early evening light. There wasn’t a cloud around aside from a sheet bunched up against the mountains below snowline in the distance. The peaks were a rich blooming gold and the wind was mild, the ocean a dark shade of blue with pink skies above it. From here we could see our line up the North Shoulder of Mt. Tasman and time seemed to stand still as we soaked in the 360 view. I thought to myself repeatedly something along the lines of, “Oh jeez. I’m quite lucky to be in New Zealand. And even luckier to be standing here on the summit of a 3000m peak at sunset.” And possibly even more special, I was sharing it with a Kiwi and a Frenchman, both of whom I’d met just days before. This was my life now and damn did it feel good!

Knowing the night was upon us and our minds fixed on the morning ahead, under purple and pink skies we hacked out a flat spot in the snow big enough for the three of us and laid down our ragged pads, rope, and even sheets of cardboard to insulate us from the snow and offer some cushion. With my legs in my sleeping bag and torso toasty warm in my Rab Neutrino Pro Jacket, looking out at the ocean, I scarfed down a Backpacker’s Pantry Three Cheese Mac N Cheese, some water, and a whole bunch of chocolate and laid back to stare at the starry night sky and drift off to sleep. It was chilly that night, certainly below freezing and the wind rose. Without a tent, each wind gust would brush across your face and try to find it’s way into the sleeping bag. From time to time that night I’d glance up while readjusting my position. The stars burned by the trillion and the milky way was a vibrant river across the night sky. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I kept relating the stars to night time in Alaska. Fortunately for me, this wasn’t that same gorgeous arctic sky, this was the Southern Sky and I was sleeping on top of a snow capped 3000m peak near the bottom of the world- a long way from home.