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Morning ...
I woke early and stepped out into the main hut area to dress and complete my packing, It was easier and less disruptive to do this here than in the sleeping are. Nick brought his stove in as well and we brewed up some coffee for breakfast while we got ourselves ready. John joined us for an early morning cuppa and to wish us good luck as we tumbled and clanked outside to fit crampons and rope up for the walk across the glacier.

Walking down to the glacier was quiet. The sun had only just dawned and it looked like it was going to be another spectacular sunny day. Expecting (or rather, hoping for) much colder conditions, we had both dressed fairly warmly and were now feeling quite warm, despite walking along in the shadows of the peaks above us. Gradually the suns rays lit first the peaks surrounding us, and then the cliff lines and ridges beside us, and finally spilled over into the bowl of the upper glacier itself. After easily negotiating a few crevasses and working our way over a small rise, we stopped in the shadow of Mt Aylmer to remove our jumpers.

The Runaway ...
As soon as I had released my pack, the two snow stakes I was carrying, fell to the ground and without a moments hesitation, sailed off together down the slope like a runaway ski. Almost surreally, Nick and I watched in disbelief as they sped as if guided, towards the nearest crevasse. Fortunately it was a narrow one and their momentum was halted as they bridged the gap and got caught on the lip on the other side.

What unbelievably good fortune!.

Then, beginning it's own desperate struggle for freedom, the topmost stake separated from the bottom one, like a 2nd stage rocket booster released from it's primary, and gracefully arced off towards a more distant and still larger looking crevasse. Like a rat down a drainpipe, my stake unceremoniously vanished from sight with no more than a faint 'chink'.

Total silence returned.
"Shit!"

At least, I thought we could still retrieve the first one. Roped together we walked down the slope we had just plodded up and cautiously approached the edge of the first crack. Thin but deep! The stake had buried it's head in the softening snow on the other side and we gently pulled it back from the brink. Out of curiosity more than anything else, we stepped over the crack and walked down to where we had last seen the other stake. Joy of joy's and luck of lucks! My wayward stake had come to rest on a small icy bridge less than a meter below the lip of the crevasse. I gently hooked it's tape loop with my axe and once again both stakes were reunited. Their short bid for freedom curtailed as quickly as it had begun.

Back at our packs, I made sure I clipped both stakes to my webbing, to make sure I didn't drop them again!

The Traverse ...
Traversing Hochstetter Dome was not a difficult task. I was keenly aware of my performance on the rock steps yesterday and was looking forward to no rock today. Nick and I moved roped together all morning and set the occasional running belay on the steeper sections. It was easy to see where everyone else had been during the previous days. A multitude of footsteps stretched away before us like a narrow highway. Occasional signs of litter (and worse) were dissaponting. In an area this big, couldn't someone have walked 10 meters further on before taking a 'dump' ? The early slopes gave way to short section of steep snow with two major but easy crevasse crossings prior to scaling a short verticle slope leading immediatley to the summit ridge. The ridge itself was spectacular. Rising before us as a gentle but steep undulating wave of snow, poised to break and splash down onto the upper reachesof the Tasman glacier below. We chose to walk a little further back from the edge than some of the tracks indicated as edge was showing definite signs of decay on the warm summer like conditions and the drop below it was formidable, to say the least. Our final approach to the summit was on hard and dirty ice. A short front point brought us from behind the dome to the stunning vista of the glacier below. To our right and in the distance we could just make out Kelman hut from where we had started a couple of hours ago. Below us, Tasman Saddle hut was bathing in the first rays of sunlight for the day.

Nick and I both tied into an ice screw each and settled back in the shade, for a muesli bar and a drink while we rested and absorbed the view. Even though we were in plain view of the hut, we knew we were so small and insignificant, we would be invisible to the naked eye. Once again we make out little black dots of people as they moved about on the glacier below. Relocating from hut to hut, and approaching or returning from climbs or classes.

Time and cold forced us to move on and we carefully stamped our way down the opposing ridge line.  Again a short broken section had to be worked around  but once off the main ridge, the going was easy and we covered lots of ground by sliding on our bums and steering with our feet. In this manner we quickly found ourselves on the flat ground above Tasman Saddle Hut where, apart from the soft conditions, walking was easy. A trail of footsteps led us gradually back up to a traverse around a huge bowl and then dropped low again to avoid a short series of cliffs decorated with huge balancing seracs'. Scanning the trail ahead we were not surprised to see it vanish under the tailings from a recent avalanche and re-appear on the other side. We can't help wondering if that was one of the big ones we heard last night.

We got to make first tracks around the debris field ! Quite some distance from the debris was a single solitary lone block of ice. About the size of a Kombi van. We tried to imagine where it had come from, but other than a vague "up there somewhere's", we can't. It's come a hell of a way ! Another hour of steady plodding in the warm sunshine saw us back at Kelman Hut in time for tea and cordial, and a late lunch.

We had traveled further today and nearly 200 meters higher that yesterdays efforts!  And no freaking out. This was really starting to feel good !

Rest day tomorrow, which means no climbing, but I'm guessing we'll find something to amuse oursleves with !