December 25

Christmas: Cascade Saddle attempt

I was the first up on Christmas morning, at 6 AM. I wanted to get an early start on the difficult climb to Cascade Saddle. It was still cloudy, but not raining, as I made breakfast. A family with three girls started getting up, and exchanged small presents. I started up the Culler Route at 8 AM. It began as a steep, rough trail through the forest, marked by small markers on trees. It was mostly easy to follow, but I lost it briefly a couple of times, especially in one place with a lot of downed trees.

After climbing an hour, I came to a washed out area damaged by an avalanche. It took a while to find the orange pole showing where the trail crossed the stream here. The steep, eroded hills on both sides of the stream were muddy and crumbly, and hard to walk on, making the crossing treacherous. The climb continued through the forest, breaking through the timber line after about two hours. There were fine views up and down the valley from here, and Aspiring Hut was visible far below.

Now, the difficult part of the route began: a steep climb through the slippery tussock slopes. Orange poles marked the route, and both the steepness and the danger of slipping added to the difficulty. Parts of the climb were very exposed, and there were occasionally steep rock-climbs, which would be much harder on the way down. A German who wanted to camp at the saddle came up as I climbed slowly and cautiously. Finally, near the cloud line, I came to a rock that was relatively hard to climb, in a place that would not be good to slip. I thought it might be unsafe to try to get back down here, so I turned back and let the German pass me.

It was about 11 AM and snowing gently when I turned back. It was clear that there would be no views higher up, even if I did continue, and the snow could make the climb more dangerous. I didn't want to take any more risks. It wouldn't be nice to kill oneself on Christmas. Going down turned out to be much harder than coming up, as expected. This route is often done one-way, crossing the saddle and coming out the Dart Valley, so that the return is not necessary. It would be especially difficult with a full pack. I found climbing down to be scary in places, and took twice as long to return to the tree line as I did coming up. I arrived at a rock outcropping there at 1 PM and had lunch. It was no clearer now, and if anything, I believe the weather was deteriorating.

As I descended through the forest, I came upon to Israelis, a man and a woman, a way below the washout. They seemed to be having a hard time. They had started much too late, and I wondered if they realized what was ahead. I didn't think they had much hope of crossing the saddle by dark. Ordinarily, the crossing takes at least 10 hours to the next hut, and they were not keeping a good pace.

I arrived at the hut at 2:30. The German I had talked to yesterday was still here, as was the girl who I met at the Wanaka Adventure Center, when I was arranging my canyoning trip. She had just come down from a higher hut where she had spent the night, and was preparing to cross Cascade Saddle tomorrow, if conditions permitted. The saddle was not the only obstacle. The rivers on the far side were high from all the rain, and several trampers drowned in the Dart River on this route a few days ago. This girl, named Kay, was from Virginia, and traveling alone on an extended trip. She had also been to Nepal.

The German told me the Israelis left here at noon, and were planning to camp at the saddle. They were not making good progress. He said their sleeping bags probably would not be adequate for the saddle either. A fire was in the stove, and it felt good. The hut warden had brought up some date bread for Christmas, and I had some. There were only a few people in the hut when I left at 3:30.

It took me three hours to walk back down the valley. I stopped once to look at the Israelis on the tussock slopes high above, watching their slow progress through my binoculars. I made no attempt to keep my boots dry at the stream crossings today, but stopped once to wring the water out of my socks and insoles. I started back down the 40 km gravel road at 6:30, arriving in Wanaka at 7:30. There, I left the stub of my intent form at the DOC office to show I had made it back, and returned to the YHA. There had been a Christmas barbecue earlier, but I missed it by two hours, so I cooked fried noodles with vegetable curry, making do with the food I already had, since no stores would be open.

The manager assigned me to the room I had the first night. I showered and went back to the common room, where the manager gave me a couple of chocolate mints which she was passing around for Christmas. It was a rainy night in Wanaka as I went to bed.

Copyright Scott A. Yost, 1996. All rights reserved.