A certain thrill comes with completing a trip you’ve eyed up for decades. For me, this was the Ball Pass Crossing.
The Ball Pass Crossing guided trek from Alpine Recreation – a three-day, two-night traverse of the Mount Cook Range in Aoraki National Park – is one of their flagship offerings. We were six in total – four clients and two guides.
But why go guided when Aotearoa’s vast conservation estate is free to roam, at will? There are numerous reasons, which I will explore in this piece.
Fundamentally, this trip provided the assurance I needed for my first foray into very basic mountaineering. Never before had I held an ice axe. Nor worn a climbing helmet and harness. Nor put on cramp-ons! How would I have known what equipment to take, let alone how to use it properly? Our guides, Elke Braun-Elwert and Paul Stevens (‘Steve-o’) would show me all.
Our trek started at Husky Flat, where we scrambled up the true right of Cove Stream. Helmets went on immediately – not for the terrain, but rather as protection as we skirted a kārearea (native falcon) nest. The brisk teet-teet-teet-teet-teet followed by a swift shadow overhead is in equal parts awesome and nerve-wracking!
Well past the avian danger zone, we snacked and snapped happily at a generous rocky lookout 400m above Husky Flat, with sweeping views over the Tasman Lake.
We continued to gain height quickly and were soon on shingly slopes that in winter are snow-covered. Elke navigated us around ‘Sina’s Sidle’, an unofficial route named for her yet-to-be born daughter whom she was carrying when she reconnoitred the route, onto scree at the head of Husky Stream. Here, I got my first taste of cramp-ons – and strapping those blighters to my boots was something I never quite fully mastered!
Our final ascent for the day was in snow at the north source of Husky Stream. We rounded a corner and there it was just below – Caroline Hut, a welcome sight after a challenging seven-hour day. s we arrived, a large avalanche shot down Aoraki in front of us. We were awed – the kea undeterred.
Cheese and crackers appeared as dinner was prepared. We ate outside, still coming to terms with the view. So here lies another benefit of guided trips – a bit of pampering. Because let’s face it – who doesn’t want a bit of extra luxury at the end of the day?
Why else go guided? Well, if one is trekking as a single person, which I was, is shared experience. You’ll spend plenty of time with the other clients and, over the trip, become friends looking out for each other. I’ve done a few guided trips, and this has been true of all.
The second day was ‘photo day’. This was possibly the best day of the trip. We got up around 6am as the rising sun illuminated Aoraki, long before its warm beams lit the Tasman Valley.
After two hours up Ball Ridge, we arrived at the snowfield directly beneath Kaitiaki Peak. Here, we practised self-arrest with the ice axes – feet-first, head-first, then any way around.
A summit of Kaitiaki Peak (2,222m) followed, where Elke gave an oral history of how the peak’s name came about as her father Gottlieb, a fabled climber and guide, worked with Ngai Tahu to recognise the tōpuni of the area. Naturally, the summit provided unobstructed views north to Aoraki, east to the Tasman Glacier and Malte Brun Range, south to Lake Pukāki and the Mackenzie Basin, and west to Mount Sefton and the Main Divide.
We descended to Ball Pass (2,121m). This include an abseil, something I hadn’t done since high school. A fun bum slide followed, after which we attached ourselves to a rope to walk down the Ball Nevé – a beautiful way to round off our snow skills session. A rocky scramble saw us regain Ball Ridge, and we made our way back down to Caroline Hut.
Our final day began at 5am with a ten-hour trip ahead of us. We retraced our steps up to Ball Pass, with fog enveloping us all the way. The fog broke on the very crest of the pass. Aoraki appeared behind us, while Mount Sefton reared up from the Hooker Valley like a sharp, white pyramid. It was still only 8.30am and the scene made for a promising day.
We had a steep descent to our morning tea stop. However, getting all the way down to the Hooker Valley – as this trip used to do – is now impossible given recent erosion. So, our route remained high above the valley. This section was comparatively technical, with rocky terrain to negotiate and a head for heights required. At one point our guides put a fixed line (a guide rope) into a bluff around a scary drop to the Playing Fields below. The fog was so thick that we could hardly see a few metres ahead at times.
This brings me to a third benefit of guided trips – namely, it’s someone else’s job to ‘do the thinking’. Our days on the Ball Pass Crossing were sufficiently long and demanding that often it was enough to concentrate on where to put one’s feet, without the extra layer of route navigation in a new and unfamiliar environment.
Just as it seemed we wouldn’t see much of the Hooker Valley at all, we gained Mabel Col (2,042m) between Mounts Mabel and Rosa. This was where we double-backed across the Mount Cook Range. The fog broke, the sun seared us, and brilliant snowy peaks filled the skyline to the west. The white monoliths of Sefton and La Perouse came into their own, seemingly much taller than they appear from Mount Cook Village. There were many outstanding views on this trip, but this is one will stay with me. It was an incredible spot for lunch.
The descent from Mabel Col was fun. We were back into cramp-on territory and an exquisite, half-frozen turquoise lake appeared immediately below. We made our way to the lake, ditched the cramp-ons and, over the next three hours, skipped through snowgrass down Cove Stream and back through the falcon’s nest to come full circle.
For me, going guided allowed me to learn new skills in one of the world’s most spectacular and special places – and generally improve my technique. Even now, I can hear Steve-o’s voice gently reminding me to “Stand up straight!” as I tramp through other terrain. But crucially, I was able to undertake an adventure I wouldn’t, and shouldn’t, have attempted alone.
My new friends shared these sentiments about ‘going guided’ as a means to personal growth. I remember a companion at Caroline Hut saying we’d seen magazines and thought this trip was something only “other people” did.
But this time, we were “those guys”. This time, it was us.
