Trip Photos

Out of the forest	Freddy tries the snowshoes	A wind-blown ridge
On the top	Perfect tramping	Descending towards Flock Hill

Trip Report

It's often said that the best trips are the ones where expectations are lowest. In which case, given the bitterly cold and wet preceding evening, the gloomy Christchurch morning and the dubious weather forecast, this trip was always going to be a winner. My rock-bottom expectations appeared to be shared by the rest of our party of six, except for leader Bruce James who was as cheerful and optimistic as ever.

Our spirits rose steadily as we left the Christchurch drizzle behind and crossed Porters Pass. True, the top of Broken Hill, our target, was still in the clag but at least it wasn't raining and the forecast had hinted at a possible improvement later in the day. We parked in the Broken River skifield road and were soon scrambling over fences and through tolerably-navigable snow, heading for the nearest ridge. "Which way?" we called. "Up", said Leader Bruce.

20 minutes later we stopped for a breather at which point we began to notice that the way ahead appeared to be blocked by thick trees. "That's funny, I don't remember a forest last time", said Leader Bruce. Birnam Wood, perhaps? "We're not heading into that, are we?" said a doubtful voice. Short pause. "The alternative being ... ?" said another. We nodded resignedly and with a mumble of Tally Ho (or something) Bernhard went crashing off into the trees.

The next 20 minutes or so, spent floundering around in snow-covered scrub and new forest, was not the highlight of the trip. However, we soon emerged into clearer terrain where there was hardly any scrub and we could see the target again. And it still wasn't raining.

The snow got deeper as we reached the main ridgeline, at which point Bernhard donned his new snowshoes for the first time. We all confidently expected him to stride out ahead of us, but alas for Bernhard the snow promptly started getting shallower again. Before too long five of us were standing on a rocky ridge stripped of snow by the wind waiting for Bernhard to slog his way through deeper snow off to the side. Snowshoes were removed again.

The ridge was cold and windy so we continued on a bit to a more sheltered spot a kilometre or so short of the summit to have lunch. And it still wasn't raining. In fact ... could that possibly be a tiny patch of blue sky?

By the time lunch was finished, there were indubitably patches of blue around and the top of Broken Hill was no longer in clag. From then on, things just got better and better. The summit was reached, the snow was lovely underfoot, the views were great, the sky was blue, tra la tra la. Conditions were close to perfect as we continued along the ridge, now heading back towards Flock Hill. We opted to stay on the ridge heading south rather than drop into the valley with the likelihood of having to scramble through more snow-covered scrub. That plan did necessitate another forest bash section, but bashing downhill is so much easier than bashing uphill that this time it was almost enjoyable. And despite heading off in somewhat different directions we all somehow managed to converge again on the 4WD track below. The final several km of 4WD bash back to the cars was pretty missable but was a small price to pay for what had turned out to be a great day's tramping. Many thanks Bruce.

Trampers: Bruce James, Klemens Stampfli, Tom Hu, Berhard Parawa, Alastair (Freddie) Brown, Richard Lobb (scribe).

-- Uploaded by Richard Lobb on 27 July, 2010