December 9

Walk to Mueller Hut

After breakfast, I went down to the visitor's center to check on the weather. It was still cloudy, and I was not optimistic. But they said the clouds would burn off in the afternoon, and I should definitely go to Mueller Hut. I registered, and the man showed me an aerial photograph of the route, pointing out possible confusing spots. He said there was still a large patch of snow near the top, but it should be passable without special equipment. He said I wouldn't need any cooking equipment or utensils, just food and clothes, and toilet paper.

I waited at the hostel until 10:30 to leave. The clouds still weren't lifting, and there was some light rain. I drove to the car park near the campground to save a couple km. I first walked out to Kea Point, an overlook for Hooker Glacier. Then I headed up the trail to Mueller Hut. The first half was a steep staircase, straight up the side of the cliff to a couple of tiny ponds called the Sealy Tarns. It was quite a strenuous climb.

I had lunch at the Tarns, and a couple keas came to visit. These alpine parrots are notorious for stealing food and damaging equipment. They have little fear of people. I got some close pictures. Three people passed me. After the Tarns, there were no more stairs, but the route was steeper and there was really no developed trail, just a well-used eroded path.

The sun came out eventually, and the clouds slowly lifted, revealing Mt. Cook. The trail was quite steep, and reminded me of some of the more difficult ones in Nepal, but fortunately at a much lower elevation. (Mueller Hut is at about 6,000 ft.) I went slow and took many pictures. My battery died, but fortunately, I had a spare.

Soon, I came to the snow field, near a large yellow striped pole mentioned in the Lonely Planet tramping guide. I met an Austrian who was about to turn back because he was worried about climbing the steep snow field. I had a walking stick, so I was less concerned. I collapsed it to its shortest length to give it more strength, and followed the footsteps to the top of the ridge. Near the top, the climb was almost vertical.

On top of the ridge, there were incredible views in both directions - mountains, ice, glaciers and waterfalls everywhere. The trail followed rock cairns through scree on the other side of the ridge to the hut, a small green building situated on the edge of the ridge in an exposed position. The twelve beds in the hut looked full, but someone was about to leave, and I got his space. Everyone else was up on Mt. Olivier, reached by climbing further through the scree. This 6200 ft mountain was the first peak climbed by Hillary, who is from New Zealand (probably when he was very young). I climbed it also, and returned through the snow fields along the ridge.

More people had arrived, but they had been told in advance that the hut was full, and were prepared to camp out. An Irish lady arrived and said to the hut warden that someone had sprained his ankle and needed assistance getting his equipment down. She was apparently something of a legend, being the first European woman to become a certified mountain guide. I fixed dinner - beef noodle soup with more noodles (oriental) and beef and freeze-dried green beans. Some people with big orange plastic sheets, meant to be pack liners probably, took them up the hill and used them as sleds to slide down the snowfields.

Afterward, most people watched the sunset, as Mt. Cook turned slightly golden and the sky took on a reddish color. At dusk, everyone went inside, and some played cards or dice. Several Americans were here, from Washington and California. The man from Washington was a pathology student. When I told him I was from Knoxville, he asked if I knew about the body farm, where a UT professor who is a leader in his field conducts body decomposition studies. I told him I knew about this, and some friends of mine had been there, but I had not seen it myself. UT has a widely-known program in forensic anthropology.

After dark, I went out to see the stars again. An almost-full moon rose over the far ridge, separating Hooker and Tasman valleys. Again, the only constellation I recognized was Orion. I went to bed at 11 PM.

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