Elevation: 2058m

Difficulty: Climbing Grade 8. Some route-finding, sketchy vegetation, and bad rock at times.

Access: Mt Hooker Track – Mt. Cook Village.

The buttress route climbs about 800m vertical before reaching the the broader mountain.

Description:

The Guideless Buttress on Mt. Wakefield is an absolute classic and should be on every mountaineer’s shortlist. The approach is short and the rock in the middle segment of the climb is superb.

Tim called me and told me he had dropped my snowstake square onto his foot as he was packing his bag for our climb. He said he could barely use the foot to drive but was still going to come out and camp anyway. I would say I don’t believe in miracles but what happened to Tim broke the laws that govern the natural world.

Luke, Sam, and I woke up at 6am to depart on our climb of the Guideless Buttress. To our surprise we heard the shuffling of a fourth climber make his way out of his tent. The heavy swelling on his foot had vanished. A power beyond our imagination had decided that Tim was going to climb this route. We grabbed our nuts, grabbed our cams, and made for the already bustling Hooker Valley Track.

We followed the track until we reached the turnoff for the Ball Pass Route. We transitioned from the equivalent of a highway to a barely visible goat track. We stumbled across boulders, keeping our gaze high as we surveyed the landscape for what should be a very distinct rib on the face above us. After about 20 minutes of walking we could see the obvious feature break from the scree fans.

A quick break until we started on the proper buttress.

We started the route by climbing up loose scree toward the buttress. Looking to the right you can see where an old creek used to wonder through the dry brush beneath the cliffs. This creek bed takes you close to the start of the buttress but you will still have about 20 minutes of steep bushwacking before you meet the proper route. As each of us climbed through the scrub the foliage would become more bare and less reliable.

The scrub petered out and we were left with a solid staircase of rock leading us to the proper buttress. Sam and I sat under our objective and watched as Luke and Tim climbed to meet us. We regrouped, drank some water, and begun our ascent of the Guideless Buttress. The route follows a cohesive rock ridge that falls off sharply on both sides. It becomes narrower and eventually breaks into a channel. We crawled through this channel. At this point we were all feeling comfortable enough on the rock to not need the rope. It was an exposed ridge but it always felt secure enough that we were comfortable. This solid rib was the main event of the climb. The rock is solid and the route is simple. One foot in front of the other.

All good things must come to an end.

The ridge opened up into a broad series of dusty ledges. We decided to take a break and enjoy the success of our climb. We were on cloud nine. The route had been every good thing we came to expect when we were reading about it. We didn’t realize, however, that we were sitting under a big, chossy mess. After a few minutes staring down into the hooker valley we decided it was time to finish off the route. We didn’t see any specific route as we surveyed the upper face of the mountain. Nothing looked hard but nothing also looked inspiring.

We took turns testing different routes. It was like working through a vertical maze. One of us would test a gully or ridge only to find it drop off abruptly. We would work in turns taking the lead. Once one of us hit a dead end the others would move forward in a different direction. We would press up, eliminating options as we went. The ground started to level out and become more fractured. We reached one last gully. This was the roughest of the bunch. We climbed as if it was a house of cards, distributing pressure between all our arms and legs. We would keep off to the side of the gullies to avoid rockfall risk.

I watched as Luke stretched between two boulders. He pulled, but rather than move up, the rocks released and toppled down into the mountain below. I watched as dozens of bowling ball sized rocks roared down the gully to my left. I was grateful not to join them. Carefully, we each took a turn moving across the stacks of rocks. Once past it was clear we had made it topped out and the mountain levelled off. We were surrounded by fields of red rocks. It honestly felt like being on mars. Barely any signs of life, just fields of boulders.

We could see Mt. Wakefield off in the distance. Still out of our grasp. We put our heads down and pressed on into the martian landscape. The remainder of Mt. Wakefield was a dirty tower of rock, broken up by dusty gullies. We would need to take things one at a time as we moved through some of the more exposed terrain. After what couldn’t have been more than an hour of walking we reached the summit. Our sense of satisfaction was almost stolen by Aoraki, which still towered so high that it felt like the elevation we gained was trivial. We sat together and took in the views. The day was behind us and all that was left was a simple walk back to the road via the main ridge of Mt. Wakefield.

This felt like the longest descent of my life. We would spend an hour walking through one alpine bowl only to reach another. We walked without feeling like we were losing any elevation. One bowl would simply lead into the next. At one point we were walking down a snow slope. I looked up and I see Luke zipping down the snow. At first I thought he was just having fun, but then realized he was completely out of control. Tim noticed and dove in to catch Luke before he hit the rocks below. It was like out of a Hollywood movie.

The rest of the descent was the same as any. We reached treeline and followed a narrow patch down to the highway. We managed to hitch a ride back with a very friendly family. I felt bad. I can only imagine how bad the four of us would have smelled after a big climb like that.

We were taken to the Hermitage where we would wait for Ruby and the gang as they made their way back from Mueller Hut and Mt. Olivier.