Krystle

One of those days…

Ever wake up with that strange feeling that the day ahead isn’t quite right? I don’t know how to explain it any better but I just knew someone had a few surprises in store for me.

A small team of 6 jumpers and myself decided to add a small detour and venture out to the famed Great Sail Peaks in Stewart Valley.  Only previously climbed and jumped by Russian Valery Rosov, we were to become the first group to hike and leap from the Russian footsteps.

The best way into Stewart Valley meant we had leave 10pm so that the snow was firm enough for the snowmobiles to cross a series of rock and mud crossings. There were a few incidents where the team needed to push the sleds (otherwise known as Qamutiqs) across rocks but otherwise a relatively smooth ride to our temporary campsite.

All the meanwhile and upon waking up, I had non-stop tingle sensations running up the back of my neck. Perhaps it would have been wise to stay in my sleeping bag but for the love of the challenge in capturing ‘that photo,’ I set out from camp with the crew into the rock minefield.

After a bit of navigating we exited the minefield up onto the majestic glacier. One of the jumpers, Ben, luckily happens to be a professional mountaineering guide. You think that would make you feel safer until he says that what we were doing was ‘suicidal stupidity and borderline retarded.’

I was warned of a crevasse approaching though with my inexperience in these conditions, I accidentally ploughed my foot straight through and ended up waist deep in the bottomless crevasse. Thanks to Rich and my trusty ice axe I was able to safely get up and holy shit! that was one hell of a wake up call. We continued on as it only a short distance before we were back on snow and it was utter relief to be off the glacier.

To reach the top from here it was a steep 700ft couloir climb before we clambered across another 2300ft of rock fields, all uphill of course. We reached the top in the afternoon sunlight and the view over Stewart Valley was majestic.
The next challenge was to find an appropriate exit point and it was a mind boggler.

The group spread out and things weren’t looking positive as they could only find 4-6seconds rock drops. A possible hike down was considered until we found an old rope anchor, possibly left by the Russian. Then jackpot!!! James discovered an exit with a 20 second rock drop.

In the disappearing sunlight, the crew took their turns in jumping a place that very few have ventured to. It was a spectacular feeling conquering a relatively unknown peak as few places are left to do so.
However as I began the trek down, that tingling sensation that had plagued me earlier was still there even after my icy encounter. Coming down through the rock fields with extreme caution, a boulder slipped from underneath my foot, which almost blew my right knee as it folded underneath me in an unnatural way.

With a bit of a shake out and rest I continued on and soon found myself navigating my way across an icy snow slate to reach the next rock field. I didn’t have my crampons on, as those would know that crampons and rocks don’t mix well. I kicked my boots in as best as possible and with only a step or two to go I slipped. As I began to slip, it felt as if I was in slow motion but in a split second I was panicking as I was picking up ridiculous speed with rocks fast approaching. To top things off I couldn’t arrest as my ice axe was packed away as I had been using trekking poles to help relieve the stress on my knees coming down.

So here I was, rapidly sliding down with no crampons, no ice axe and trying to actually rationally think what I could do. And yes, I was thinking ‘HOLY SHIT, FUCKEN HELL’ and every other curse word I knew.

Perhaps it was utter luck or someone was looking over me, but just as I was prepared to dig my feet into the small boulders and possibly break my tailbone, or worse, I slammed my feet down to a glorious small soft patch of snow centimetres before the boulders.

After the snow settled, my legs were bent up against the boulders but my backside was comfortably stopped. I then look behind to see how quick 40m can pass by.

After a few deep breaths I continue on and carefully navigate some incredibly steep couloirs all the while keeping as high as possible on the ridgeline as I was keen to avoid the glacier on the return trip. It was slightly nerve racking as every glance to the right only showed deep black pits exceeding into the glacier.

The last slog seemed to be a never-ending waist deep plough through soft snow. Within metres of camp I noticed that once back on hard snow my left foot was slipping. A quick glance down confirmed I’d lost the left foot crampon… again.

I lost it on the first hike of the trip and miraculously it was found the next day after a snowfall but somehow I doubt it’ll be found this time.

I retraced my steps as best as possible to find it but it felt like looking for a needle in a haystack.

So anyone who happens to be passing Stewart Valley, if you find an aluminium crampon with a black and red strap, please post it to the Pinnacle Sports shop in Brisbane, Australia.

Completely knackered after a 10-hour return trip, the crew had packed up camp and we jumped on the snowmobiles to return back to main base. Thankfully snow conditions were great which meant little Qamutiqs pushing across rocks. So in order to disperse energy at 2am in the morning, a few jumpers decided to try out their bouldering skills during a pit stop.

By now you’d think it was a relatively straightforward trip home but I was dealt with one final surprise. Our snowmobile that was carrying 3 hit an unforseen rock tipping us over onto its side pinning our legs down. Luckily no one was seriously injured though a close call for a driver Frankie.

Finally making it back to camp 4am in the morning it felt so good to crawl back into a cosy sleeping bag. Though a better feeling came over me as that peculiar tingling sensation had finally disappeared.  

Krystle Wright
Sports and Adventure Photographer based in Sydney, Australia will be documenting every angle of the month long expedition. 
Further work can be seen here at: www.wrightfoto.com.au