Inclemency

Sooji Clarkson endures a summer of inclement conditions in Fiordland to establish two new rock routes

Inclement: early 17th century: from French inclément or Latin inclement-, from in- ‘not’ + clement- ‘clement’ or mild/merciful... that is, one could say… unmerciful.

Somnus

I'd meant to be here for years, the NE face of Somnus. In typical fashion, this was not a long planned trip but a last minute thrown together plan when the holy trinity: conditions, weather, and company, lined up. Penzy had time off, i had time off, the weather promised clemency, so i sent her a picture of the face with a vague squiggle and some question marks scrawled on - and off we went.

Despite snow falling as we left the road end, (obviously as it was mid February, it was still winter) the day cleared. Beautiful sunshine up the beautiful Rock Burn, followed by a good honest struggle up a watercourse and similar (good, honest!) struggle to find a flat spot to camp in below the face. We picked out a line from a distance, and early in the morning we followed it through in another day of glorious sunshine.

Pitching then scrambling, through excellent compact schist then lower angled broken terrain, until we were perched on top for snacks amongst panoramic views from the Central Darrans (Milne! Now that's a pinup of a peak… hot damn!) to Aspiring and beyond.

We were there because Penzy had said that we must do SOMETHING before she headed north for work. So indeed, we christened the route “Somnthing” and though reluctant to leave the views of Amphion, Minos and Nox - we wandered our way back out to Queenstown.

I took something else away though (apart from the usual “just a few” pretty rocks, of course… light and fast gram counter that I am) - a mental picture of what could feasibly be called the NE Ridge of Somnus: a triangular face leading to an unmerciful (“inclement”, perhaps) sawtooth of a ridge.

Within the week I was again back. Company: tick - the one and only Ruari MacFarlane. Weather: errr… possibly. Conditions: yet to be seen…

We awoke (in a vastly flatter campsite than last time!) to moody, frigid cloud enveloping all around. Rather as forecast, really. Departure from camp was progressively delayed, but eventually we had to go have just a wee poke around.

At the base, snow began falling. Into the increasing inclemency we advanced, but once in sight of the face we could see conditions were (rather as expected, really) less than ideal. That is to say - our rock climb was wet, bearded with icicles, and where it wasn't wet there were streaks of ice. We returned to the moistness of the tent. Low freezing levels and a small single skin tent really make you appreciate just how much moisture us humans lose through just breathing.

The next day however dawned brighter (again… rather as forecast, really) and we resumed the advance up our chosen line. It was obviously still winter (read: late January) so some ice prevailed, Ruari kept his winter gloves on, and my frozen rock shoes clattered on the wall in place of the sorely needed confident smearing.

Sooji on the Somnus ridge (R. MacFarlane)

The day warmed however and the climbing proved excellent, the sawtooth section of ridge was dispatched with some trickery and less difficulty than anticipated, and the final pitch - a full rope length of corner climbing which took nearly every (well spaced out) piece of our light rack - will absolutely live long in my memory for all the right reasons.

Another night of rain both outside and somewhat inside the tent (stop breathing, darn it!), before we made our transalpine exit via basins and a gorged stream NE of Momus. Though enjoying the slight uncertainty of whether the route would, we knew it had to - after all, we both had to be out the next day for work reasons, so it couldn't not…. right?

The Darrans

Later in February, I was again walking back to a place I’d just exited that week. Creature of habit perhaps? This time I was lucky enough to be in the company of Murray Judge and again Ruari. Armed with a hefty bag of bolts, an arsenal of drill batteries, and the most excellent plot - rebolting one of Murray's countless Darrans lines: Tootsies. My partner Stu was being a responsible Homer Hut warden (and his own Tootsies still recovering from our loop a few days prior through Rita’s Burritos on NF Barrier Knob with exit via Sabre N Buttress Direct) so accompanied us just for the day to help portage gear – a godsend really, as my own pack was already crushing my soul.

A few minutes uphill from Phil's bivvy in the incomparably beautiful Lake Adelaide, is a clean and striking wall capped with a roof and headwall. Distinctive for the single water streak dividing it in two, Tootsies follows a line up the right of the streak, while the Vass-Judge line follows up the left. We planned not just to rebolt the existing line but to push it through the headwall.

Emerging from the top bivvy the next morning, though hampered by clinging low cloud we managed to locate the top of the wall. Abseiling down - the headwall looked brilliant. We bolted it. Not TOO many bolts, mind. Further down: the roof section looked like it could go. We bolted what we could, leaving the rest to tackle ground-up. We continued down, leaving what we hoped were enough bolts to get us back up again, before retiring into the palatial comfort of Phil’s Biv.

The next few days we forged upwards, sometimes lead bolting what would become the final line, sometimes taking alternative easier ground to be able to bolt top-down on better looking, more interesting climbing. I couldn’t help sneaking peeks at the Vass-Judge left of the water streak. Tootsies finished up to just below the roof (just half a pitch missing to link it all), we returned to Phil’s to a lovely charcuterie board and Stu – who had walked in for the evening to say hello.

To add to the lovely surprises, Pete Allison and Paul Rogers were in Gill’s Biv, so we popped over for a cuppa and morning tea on our way out (also running into Gregg Beisly! Lake Adelaide is the place to be!), before a wander up the Sentinel shoulder and a quick simul-climb lap of the classic SE Buttress, then back to Homer Hut for the night.

Perhaps predictably at this point… less than a week later I was headed back. Sam and James Waetford plodded up with me past Black Lake, with the boulders embedded in and covered by new snow (of course, it’s still summer) putting in hard yards with heavy packs up and over the BarrierBarrier Knob Col to once again get to the top of Tootsies. This time the missing link was finished, and the route was ready for climbing. Again back to Phil’s, to be met by Tanja de Wilde and her mother who had walked in over Barrier Knob to meet us. Yet another Lake Adelaide party!

Phil’s biv party!

Inclemency as forecast came to meet us the next day, with rain to the roof washing most of the new snow away. Usually I’d curse such luck in winter, but in summer? Perfect! Sheltered from the rain in Phil’s, we nestled cups of tea while others made quesadillas, Scrabble rounds were played, and all ran laps (including eliminates, of course) of the boulder problem inside the bivvy. I believe James’s (terrifying) sit-start aid ascent of said boulder may be its first.

Boulder problem solving

As always happens eventually, the sun came out and rapidly dried out the wall. The twins went questing up the arête on the left of the wall. Tanja and I warmed up by bolting a 2-pitch slab route at the base of the wall – Footsies – before getting started on the Vass-Judge. After two pitches we were out of bolts and I was out of time, needing to be out the next day for work. Perhaps all the time got sucked into the infinity it can seem to take to drill a hole on lead in a precarious position?

Surely predictably at this point, a week later I was back (I’d actually spent the time in between in the Darrans as well, rock climbing with a client, but that doesn’t count). This time was to be the last hurrah for this summer. Stu and I walked back up the valley again, again heavy with bolts, and again in a covering of snow from Gertrude Saddle. This time the weather showed us no mercy, and inclemency came in thick with frigid cloud and wind. Grim. We made a tactical change of plans as new snow began to fall, and hightailed our way over Barrier Knob, stashed some gear, and descended Gifford’s Crack to the shelter of Gill’s Biv.

The author on the tools

The next day was promised fine however, so we made an early start back up Gifford’s, retrieved gear and walked around Barrier Knob’s N and NE faces to the top of Tootsies. This time top down to look at the headwall for the Vass-Judge, completing some bolting on the way down. With all the pitches up to the roof finished, we enjoyed a comparatively warm evening in Gill’s, and headed out the next morning with the aim of just going rock climbing!

Finally sending Tootsies

With the wall the driest I had ever seen it (water streak? What water streak?) we climbed lovely pitch after pitch on Tootsies, through the headwall and on to the top. What a line. On top we sat taking in the view, the low angled March sunshine, and constructing our summer’s last Darrans charcuterie board. Stu needed to be out for work, so although there was still clement weather left we walked our way back out the Gertrude – feeling content at having finished one project, started a new one to come back for next season, and having so fully enjoyed our time in this most special of places.

By Sooji Clarkson