Travels

I finally got around to going through one of New Zealand's most classic and challenging alpine caves, Nettlebed Cave. It is the deepest through trip in the Southern Hemisphere at 889m between the Blizzard Pot entrance on Mt. Arthur and the Nettlebed entrance down near the Pearce River. Incidentally, it is also one of New Zealand's longest caves at over 25km of passages. The overnight through trip from Blizzard Pot to Salvation Hall Camp and out the Nettlebed Entrance the next day is about as classic as cave trips get.

Two things left a lasting impression on me. The first is the immense amount of effort that very obviously went into exploring this cave. The explorers pushed several very grim looking crawls and a great number of climbs to connect parts of the cave. This is made all the more impressive by the fact that the cave was explored from the bottom entrance all the way up to Old Joke Inlet which joins the Blizzard Pot pit series to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. A very impressive feat which gives me a new appreciation for the explorers. They really wanted this cave to go somewhere! The second and perhaps more amazing thing is the shear serendipity that the whole cave system is able to be traversed by humans at all. There are several very small passages that are the only known connection between parts of the cave. In some cases, just one extra boulder or a little more flowstone filling a passage and a through trip would not be possible!

Right. I made sure to pack light for this one. I even forewent the camera. I could have taken a little extra food, otherwise I figure I miraculously took exactly what I needed. We left the evening before to stay up at Mt. Arthur Hut to get a theoretical early start the following morning. The hike to Blizzard Pot was cold and snowy and I was beginning to worry that I didn't take enough warm clothes. The approach hike helped to add to the adventure of the whole trip though and to put things in perspective.

The route leads down 10 more or less rapid-fire pitches to 31m in the Blizzard Pot Series (including Look-See-Misery, Big Bong Pitch and Big Virgin Passage). At the bottom of each pitch the rope is pulled down such that after the first drop you are committed to going out the bottom of the cave. Vertical gear comes off once Old Joke Inlet is reached. A short climb up a rock pile finds you in an enormous room (no doubt one of the largest in New Zealand), aptly named Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. This thing is huge- over 100m across! After a brew and recollecting ourselves in the great void, we took on the Funk Hole, a truly impressive 100m high rock pile through which you must weasel your way through. Essentially, imagine yourself as a very tiny bug in a jar of sand trying to work your way through the voids between the grains to the bottom of the jar. It is easy to get lost if not careful and the way has an abundance of precariously loose rocks. It would only take one large rock to cut off the route and render the cave impassible. Then comes the Knee Trembler, a steep underground scree slope down a passage. A series of upclimbs, downclimbs, ladders and handlines known as The Clamble leads to the Salvation Hall Camp, which comfortably sleeps 5. The camp itself is up on a ledge overlooking the main Salvation Hall room. Water is collected in buckets under drips. Pee is evacuated via a funnel and hose which wanders off to some unknown location away from camp. The camp includes sleeping bags, sleeping mats, dishes/cups, a stove, a table and a bench. After a good night's sleep (thank god for ear plugs), we headed up some ropes at the back of the camp to the Ancient Briton passage. Through the Overlander, past the Abyss, down Reprieve Alley, into the Snow Passage, out the Prickly Tube, through Rockfall K, and up and over the Up and Overs. Then comes the pools and The Ducks. Fortunately for us the water level in The Ducks were very low so with care I was able to stay completely dry in what often can be a wet neck passage. Then came the infamous Hinkle-Horn-Honking-Holes, three admittedly tight squeezes through which the whole cave is connected such that air flows rapidly through them. I fit through no problem of course, but getting the packs through was a different story. Once through the holes, a little more passage and a couple more handlines found us in a dry creekbed surrounded by stinging nettles, fresh air and a nearly-past day.

Since we were behind schedule, I left the rest of the group and charged down the icy river to make sure our pick-up knew we made it out alive. It was dark by the time I reached the end of the track where a note said that showers and food where waiting at the ramshackle house with the lights on nearby. The whole experience was surreal in ways I can't describe: two days of caving to hike down a river surrounded by 5cm ice crystals sparkling in moonlight, stumbling upon a house in the middle of nowhere, a hot shower and hearty dinner of wild boar fed to me by three hillbillies who repeatedly told us they weren't hillbillies. After a long day of work (and sufficient quantities of alcohol), they pull out the garden hose and water the rutted drive up to the house which instantly turns to ice. Once everybody was fed and showered we went outside to watch them use an assortment of novel vehicles (kayak, wash basin, tire, and a rusty wok) to luge their way down the steep hill, often with hilarious results. They said that whenever they see tourists walking past on the trail they play the Deliverance banjo song full blast on the stereo for amusement. As we finally left around 11, they told us to "watch out for the hillbillies on the other side of the river." They were real good people, of a kind I don't often meet. What a strange world we live in.

The trip could have been better and it could have been much worse. The pace was abysmally slow on account of one person on the trip who had no right to be in such a challenging cave without more experience and fitness. Much effort was expended on the rest of our parts to keep the individual functioning. We all made it through safely which is the most important thing. The good news is that since I was able to do most of the route-finding, I feel very comfortable leading my own trip through next time.

On the drive back I made the most of the one degree Celsius weather by jumping in the Sylvia Flat hot springs and soaking away the aches of several days of caving.

Thanks to Christie, Derek and Moira, Mary, and Chucky for hospitality and places to stay along the way.

All photos except last by Gavin or Bob.
Above: The first rappel into Blizzard Pot