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Kerosene stoves and Tilley lamps apparently don't agree with me.

I wake early and despite my best efforts to go back to sleep, I can't. My head is pounding and every breath invites nausea... Dismayed at my weakness and somewhat befuddled, I stumble outside into the fresh pre dawn air and gulp down a couple of dispirins. More than anything else, the cold fresh air seems to to the trick and I begin to feel a little more focused. Venturing back inside is bad, but I have to pack. After a couple of minutes of quiet packing I bolt outside again for more fresh air. I'm convinced it's the fumes now.  Outside ... OK ... Inside ... Not so ...

The other are up and packing too, so I race in one more time, grab all my gear and clatter back out onto the rocks again so I can finnish packing and breath at the same time.

This is day 2 of our course and so far all we've done is walk in to Caroline Hut and talked a bit about gear (and the importance of Kicking-Back!). Today, amongst other skills we are to learn, we will revisit  how to walk. This time though , on ice, and in crampons.

Our first task for the day however is to actually get to some ice. To do this we follow as Roy leads us from the hut, up and over the ridge towards Ball Pass (New Zealand's highest guided trek), and down again to the ice above the Ball Glacier. This is surprisingly arduous. I try to console myself by reminding myself that this is probably what mountaineering is really like. Not just the adventure found on snowcapped summits, surviving blizzards and storms, but mostly just sheer bloody hard slog to get there. Hardly the stuff volumes are written on. Nick and John have little difficulty keeping up with Roy's steady pace, but Geoff and I are slowly falling back. Occasionally Roy stops and waits for us to re-group and makes passing comments regarding the terrain or how to tackle the next step.

"You might like to watch your step here... A couple of guys slipped and fell to their death hear a year or two ago..."
or
"This is where that bloke I was telling you about, got clobbered by that rock which broke his leg last season..."
or
"Just er.. Don't pull on this one huh?" (tapping a sofa bed sized block)... "It's a bit loose up here..."

An hour and a half after leaving the hut, we reach the relative safety of the ice field. Glad to be off the horrible loose rocky stuff on on a surface I'm more familiar with, I happily fall into place with the others, and in single file we stride confidently out onto out first ice slope and dump our packs.

It's remarkably warm. The four of us are wearing dark thermals and are being baked slowly by both the direct sun above, as well as the heat reflected off every surface around us. Roy hitches up the collar on his loose white business shirt and I make a mental note to visit K-Mart before the next ice trip. Sparky has chosen carefully in her purchase of plastic boots and crampons. And, as I have borrowed them, find them perfectly suited to each other and a breeze to step into and fasten.
Nick has a minor problem with his 'strap-ons', but a couple of minutes of bush engineering solve it and, we're all walking in that peculiar way for the first time. Roy is quick to point out that tripping with crampons is one of the biggest causes of accidents. We all widen our stances and start waddling around as if we've been riding horses for the last 2 days.

For the morning, we follow Roy up and down and across a number of different ice slopes as he first demonstrates how to best navigate the slope, then watches as we do it, all the time offering suggestions and keeping in line to catch us if we 'slip-up'. Sparkies Black Diamonds do extremely well on the hard ice but I find they tend to ball up in the mush, where the other guys flexible crampons seemed to shed the soft ice much more readily. (Woo! How Technical!). I get good at bashing my feet with my axe.

Later in the day we ditch the crampons and stomp our way up a short slope nearby to practice Self Arrest techniques and various belays, including the all important Dynamic Belay. (I need to practice this one !!!)... how many times did John call 'HOLD!' ... how many times did I take in with all speed, watching for the rope to reverse direction on my ATC... how many times did I suddenly find myself hurtling down the slope after John, trying to stop us by digging my fingers and toes into the soft mush. Despite my obvious failings it was still good fun and I proved I could dig a very adequate T-anchor.

Fun over for the day we head back to our packs. Roy 'skis' the slope and comments, "Sometimes it's faster than walking ...", implying we should give this a go, it's getting late. Whooping and hollering we all emulate the stance and promptly tumble down the slope behind him. This is more fun than anything and I just want to do that bit again ! (I like skiing, even if it's without the skis) ... Re-grouped and re-packed it's time to troop back to the hut and with the late afternoon sun at out backs, we begin the slow walk back up the ridge and eventually home.

I have survived day two ...