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Kaumira Canyon Feb 27

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 21:27:00 +0000

I finally got around to returning to Kaumira to do a full descent of the canyon after a retreat from the upper canyon back in the cold and dark months. It was an absolutely glorious day for canyoning; a hot day with a warm breeze that, despite the sunlight rarely reaching the canyon floor, was the warmest canyoning I have done in New Zealand. We took our time, which was preferred given the wonderful weather, which allowed us to scout jumps and slides that we probably would not have done otherwise. As well as being significantly warmer than my last trip to Kaumira, the water level was much lower such that the full force of the waterfalls could be skirted if wanted. I greatly enjoyed the rappel down the waterfall with the arch- it is quite a unique view from the top with the water swirling its way down. The highlight was probably the two back-to-back waterfalls with a beautiful plunge pool more than 10m across. I did a great 8m jump from the top falls into the bottomless pool. In all we did 6 rappels, two slides and several jumps. It is quite a decent canyon given its accessibility and location and one I would do again.

We ended the day by grabbing my favorite fish and chips in Otago, driving to one of my favorite beaches nearby and having the most amazing panoramic view as the near-full moon rose and the sun set, igniting the clouds and sea and cliffs and reflections in ever-shifting vibrance. If that comes across as being over-romanticized, it's because it was. A great end to a wonderful day.

Swinburn Feb 12-21

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 09:05:00 +0000

Swinburn. The infamous area of complexity and rite of passage to Otago geology students. Few other New Zealanders would have even heard of this quiet place in Central Otago, quiet at least until the sheep dogs bark at daybreak. It is a landscape of tussock and matagouri and dramatic clouds. At this time of year the area is essentially the closest New Zealand gets to a desert with hot sunburnt days and cool or frosty nights. As we are essentially mapping a station (farm), there are constantly barbed wire fences to cross and plenty of sheep and cows to go around. Most disappointingly, dried cow pies frequently look like rocks from a distance.

Camp is on a nearby station and the students stake their work spots in the wool shed, constructing desks out of whatever they find lying around the place. One night we had to share the shed with the sheep...which was warmer. Amenities are rustic to say the least.

The area makes for a great exercise as there are sedimentary, metamorphic and volcanic rocks to map, often in confusing relationships due to folds, landslides, paleo-topography and hidden faults. As in all good mapping exercises, outcrop is patchy enough to ensure that no one really knows what is going on.

A typical field day had us heading off to the field about 8am, returning to camp at 6pm, a refreshing swim/clean in the Kyeburn, eating dinner as the sun set on the Kakanui Mountains, and working hard in the woolshed until after midnight. The swim was typically the high point of the day, particularly on the warmer days. We ate well and eating dinner while watching the light fade on the Kakanuis was a bit of decadence.

Helping teach this course was hard work at times. It involved running around the field area trying to find elusive students in the midday sun, then endless questions and long nights such that a sleep deficit is gradually built up until the last night when many students pull an all-nighter to finish in time for the 8am deadline on the last day.

Above: Hard at work in the woolshed

No. 8 wire

Camp

Pounawea Feb 8-11

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 09:05:00 +0000

Off again after less than 24 hours in Dunedin to help teach a structural geology field trip along the relatively unpopulated Catlins coast. The weather was quite agreeable and the students seemed keen, both crucial to an enjoyable trip. The rocks exposed along the shore are the same as some outcropping in my field area hundreds of kilometers away, only here they are much less deformed. The field trip is well-planned around accessing the rocks exposed at low tide, such that classroom lectures are held during high tides. I limped my way around after a recent injury but luckily we never really covered to great a distance. For the third-year students taking the course, this trip is essentially a prelude to the longer, more involved Swinburn field camp that starts the day after their return.

Auckland Feb 4-6

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 08:13:00 +0000

A few pleasant days were spent in the big city helping with an education abroad orientation of which I was a student in a past year. Aside from the near constant deja vu and realization that I am not as young as I used to be, it was a great experience and I was glad to be able to help. Fortunately, I had a good amount of free time to explore the City of Sails. I spent half a day on Rangitoto Island, a 600 year old volcanic island just offshore. As soil development is still limited, vegetation has yet to fully overtake the island's fresh black volcanic scoria. I walked to the top for commanding views of Auckland, the Hauraki Gulf and its islands and explored some of the lava tube caves on the island. The last day I went to Tirtiri Matangi Island where I saw an abundance of rare native birds and went for a delightful swim through sea caves in the warm, near-tropical waters. I also jumped about 10m from a rock arch.

I am not, and don't expect to ever be, a city person. That said Auckland is one of the nicer cities I have been in. I found a little more than half of the population to be wonderfully friendly and helpful. Unfortunately the other half was equally indifferent, rude or self-focused. Nevertheless, the diversity of peoples was refreshing.

City of Sails

Lava tube cave

Auckland from Rangitoto Island

Cascade Fieldwork Jan 26-Feb 1

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 21:53:00 +0000

I was in Dunedin just long enough to do laundry, catch up on emails, and say hello to flatmates less they forget who I am. With a healthy weather outlook for the West Coast at a time which suited both my and my advisor's schedules, we were off.

Our pilot was notably young but also obviously inexperienced in that he actually gave us a safety briefing, the first pilot in NZ I have had do this. We had a pleasant helicopter flight following the Fault from Haast to our camp next to the middle reach of the Cascade River. Here several slices of a wide assortment of fault-bounded rocks intersect the Alpine Fault with the result that there are in fact several strands of the Fault. Because of the varied basement rocks, the Cascade River has the most diverse range of rock types in all of New Zealand.

Because of the great weather and long days we were able to be very productive, checking all creeks, but one, along a 5km stretch of the Cascade. The creeks varied significantly- some had great outcrops, some had waterfalls to climb or bypass, some were drowned in fresh slip detritus or downed trees, some had unpleasantries like stinging nettles or overabundant spider webs, some were wholly devoid of outcrop. The Cascade River was lower than I had ever seen it which prompted us to cross it and spend half a day checking out McKay Creek. McKay was impressively gorged right from the start so we did not make it very far upstream despite some fun bouldering traverses I did.

Each morning we awoke to the dawn chorus of New Zealand bird song along with the delicate pitter-patter of sandflies on our tents. The sandflies were noteworthy, rarely giving us a break, especially when engaged in tasks like cooking. Only one day did we awake to poor weather and suffer some rain, but it pleasantly broke for a pleasant afternoon. Our food rations fared spectacularly, but my aluminum foil was gone the first day as many of the samples I took have little structural integrity.

Fieldwork has been going well. Despite there being much left to do, gaps are starting to be filled and targeted studies are starting to be realized. The last day was spent at the Martyr River with more geologists in tow. The Martyr Alpine Fault outcrop has changed dramatically sometime in the last two months. I have more work to do there before the outcrop deteriorates further. Thanks to Virginia.

Above: A recently active trace of the Alpine Fault in Saddle Creek showing NW-side up displacement. Cataclastic fault rocks are juxtaposed against river gravels.

Alpine Fault geomorphology in the lower Cascade

Cascade Camp

Southern counterpart of the Red Hills near Nelson (see previous posts), offset 480km by the Alpine Fault.

Nettlebed Camera Rescue Jan 22

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 23:04:00 +0000

This is the story of a successful cave rescue despite a 92 day response time! To explain:

Back in October I led a two-day trip through Nettlebed Cave; down Blizzard Pot, "overnighting" at Salvation Hall, then heading out the Nettlebed entrance 890m below the Blizzard Pot entrance. On the second day, at some point between Ancient Briton and Rockfall K, I managed to lose my waterproof camera. Carefully reconstructing my memories of where my pack was open led me to determine the bottom of the Overlander to be the most likely place to find it. Here I dropped my pack into the small streamlet at the base of the pitch and it was picked up by someone else in the party. Perhaps the camera could have fallen out here. As we were pressed to get out of the cave before our callout time and join the first night of the NZSS AGM, steps were not retraced and we headed out. This camera had some important photos on it pertaining to my PhD research as well as some other photos I would rather not lose (not to mention the camera!).

Luckily two separate groups were planning Nettlebed trips in the next two weeks so I gave a detailed description of the camera and where it could have been lost. Rewards were offered. Unfortunately both trips were canceled and my camera sat, hopefully, safely and quietly in the depths.

Months passed by. Months during which some photos of hard to reach rock outcrops were sorely missed. Nettlebed remained unvisited; a camera sat. It is a horrible thing to know where something is but to realize there are formidable obstacles between it and you (like a ten hour drive, a steep bush tramp, and several hours of caving).

January arrives and I find myself on the Ellis Basin expedition, all too aware of my proximity to my camera. I hiked out over the tops to Flora Saddle. So close! The next time I could be up this way could be a long time off. I set a callout time and got an early start the next morning.

Call to action! Rescue initiated! Scattered showers all night ensured a long hike through wet bush. I was drenched before long. Going downhill I found that I had veered off the markers on the ridge which amounted to an extra hour traversing obstacled bush to get back on track. After some time, I arrived at the Nettlebed entrance where an ominous fog emanated from the darkness. Luckily my in-cave navigation was far more effective and I had no trouble finding my way in other than some modest navigational wonderment initially finding the Prickly Tube. I passed through the slight constriction beneath the Overlander and intently searched my way up the stream. There, on a rock in the middle of the stream in its black neoprene case, I found my camera resting quite happily. I was thrilled to not have to return empty-handed (or to put on SRT gear and go further into the cave).

I made it back to the entrance in 45 minutes. The water level in the Pools and Ducks were very low and the dry gum boots were much appreciated. The Hinkle Horn Honking Holes were raging unlike I have experienced before. My small pack size made the squeezes quite easy to pass. I acted the part of a wet sponge on the slog back up the hill as lightning and thunder and torrential rain were apparently localized directly overhead. I have never before seen waterfalls dripping off individual trees before!

What was seen as a chore actually turned out to be quite enjoyable in the end. Somewhat amazingly, after charging the battery and allowing the camera to defog, the camera still works like new!

As the camera battery was thoroughly dead after sitting in a cold stream for three months, no pictures were taken. I realized it was kind of hard to take a photo of being joyously reunited with a camera anyway. Shown here are some recovered Nettlebed photos from the October trip.

Crystal pool

The Salvation Hall couch

Ellis Basin Cave Expedition Jan 9-21

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 22:43:00 +0000

I emerged from the Red Hills and enjoyed less than 24 hours of civilization before I was off again to be flown into the Ellis valley with a team of 5 other cavers. Our goal was to push the Ellis Basin Cave System past its 775m depth to over 1km.

With the cave extending under 1800m peaks and a resurgence dived to an elevation of about 90m, the cave has a substantial potential for an internationally significant cave, let alone the greatest depth potential of any known cave in New Zealand. This is easier said than done as all the passages at the bottom of the cave are sumped (i.e. filled to the roof with water) and the highest portions of the cave require bolt climbs up walls of tricky and loose rock. The cave is one of the most physically demanding I have ever been in.

This expedition would last 3 weeks and was well-funded which allowed several trips with the helicopter to ferry our mountain of gear up to the Ellis. We set up camp in a beautiful bit of bush conveniently located next to the stream and the routes to the cave's entrances. Our camp was quite plush; we had a 3-room tent, generator, gas lanterns, whiteboards, a wall-sized map of the cave, a laptop, solar panels, and even a solar shower. We were well-stocked with caving gear (over 500m of rope, 200 carabiners and 50m of PVC pipe) and with copious amounts of food.

Above: View from north Twin along the Arthur Range. Tablelands in background. Note person at center right.

Ready for pickup. Arthur Range in background.

The entrance series in Exhalabur drops over 200m on rope. Several more pitches, handlines, climbs and traverses exist before pleasant walking passage gave way to a formation squeeze which soon after finds you in the top of a deep canyon passage with the main stream thundering below. The main streamway was wet and sporty with waterfalls and pools to avoid as best as possible. The cave has a little bit of everything.

I exited the cave on the first full day completely destroyed and it took me quite some time to do a simple task like dressing in dry clothes and to feel human again (I had not felt this spent since the 4 day Bulmer Cavern trip I did in 2006). To my relief it was not just me- the whole team felt the same- and the next day was declared a rest day. Because we had a lot of hard out days of caving, we also had a lot of rest days. Rest days were spent either improving camp (chairs, tables, irrigation and a fire pit) or scrambling around on the karst. I could have met my death when a few of us were scrambling up Winter Peak. One of the other two was 50m directly above me when he managed to dislodge a car engine-sized rock. I immediately reverted to adrenaline-fueled instinct and according to the third person, he had never seen anyone move so fast over such uneven terrain. I took off at a full sprint laterally. The rock broke into 10 bowling ball-sized blocks, each of which could have killed, a few of which just narrowly missed me. I spent quite some time sitting in an odd hyperactive stupor until the drugs wore off. Pretty exciting for a rest day!

Enjoying camp on a rest day

The second full day into the cave we carried 50m of 3" PVC pipe to the bottom of the cave to try to drain a sump. Some of the team spent quite some time trying to get the siphon going with very little success. Meanwhile I was getting bored and cold so I started to wander around. I found a small streamlet flowing over a flowstone waterfall so I ran back to get a rope. Once down the short drop the only way on was through a low hole between formations underneath the flowstone I came down. Through the gap was a deep blue pool of crystal clarity that on closer inspection could just barely be skirted using ledges and formations. Once past this gateway, every step was pure never-before-seen delight- beautiful crystal pools, sparkling white flowstone, large curtains and stals and large pendants with bulbous ends from being dipped in former pools, all in a tall canyon passage. I continued until the passage turned into a steeply-descending flowstone-floored tube. It was going down!

In Pipe Dream (photo by Kieran McKay)

I ran back to get the others and told them to stop draining the sump. We moved the piping to drain the 1001 Bucket Sump, which when lower, would provide us with a significant shortcut bypassing the main streamway. We then split into two groups, mine to continue exploring and the second to follow by surveying. My discovery went 300m straight east (good) to yet another sump (bad). I decided to call this passage "Pipe Dream" because of the amusement with the PVC pipes and because of our hope that it would lead us deeper. It is the most beautiful passage I have seen in the cave. We also found abundant evidence that this cave floods up to 150m above the lowest known part! I do not know of any other cave in the world where this can happen.

Since this sump was now the most promising lead, the others dragged dive gear and our diver dove the sump. The same day I hiked out to head back to Dunedin. That evening I found out that they were hiking out to get wetsuits which piqued my interest so I stuck around. It turned out the sump was only 3m long with going passage on the other side so they were planning on free diving it. Desperately wanting to know where my passage went and wanting to be a part of its exploration, I repacked all my gear I just painstakingly cleaned and flew back in with the others. And so less than 24hours after hiking out I found myself back on the mountain. Coming back was a bit surreal.

Armed with wetsuits we free dove the sump the following day. For being only 3m long, I felt a whole world away being on the other side of it. This passage continued in a huge assortment of passage dimensions with several pools to cross and beautiful formations in abundance. Unfortunately we were greeted by the most spectacular sump pool I have ever seen. It was a deep crystal blue pool, 34m long and more than 9m deep. We were not going to be able to free dive this one! We surveyed over 500m of passage in this area that became known as Wet Dream.

In Wet Dream (photo by Kieran McKay)

We also checked leads in a wet and muddy area called Death By Chocolate and some climbing leads near 1001 Bucket Sump. We then shifted our focus to the top of the cave, attempting to re-find a cave known simply as EK3010 (which turned into a nice alpine karst appreciation day) and rigging the Tomo Thyme entrance series. We then went into Tomo Thyme to try some climbs in a wet and very cold part of the cave known ironically as Blue Hawaii. Here we hid under an alcove as a shower of rocks bounced around us from the climber working his way up the loose rock.

Exploring an undropped shaft

I left to hike out the next day, but several more discoveries were made in the final week of the expedition. Although no deeper, several great advances were made that will probably lead to a crucial connection or two soon.

Atop the north Twin

Some views of the alpine karst:

Red Hills Jan 5-8

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 22:41:00 +0000

I spent four days helping my advisor Virginia (along with two other students) with some fieldwork on the ultramafic mantle rocks of the Red Hills. This time around we opted to hike in via the Gordon Range to the west, which was a nice hike in as it only gained about 450m in elevation and had over 4km of hiking along an alpine ridge with sweeping views all the way to the sea. The route then rapidly descends to the headwaters of the Motueka River before climbing again. We stayed in the Hunters Hut, which was a great luxury over camping up on the wind-swept ridges like last year.

The weather started nice (albeit windy!), allowing us to hike over to the far side of the Red Hills to fill in a transect we did not cover last time around. The rocks are frequently magnetized (by lightning or magnetite), requiring two people to take a simple measurement. Luke was able to download weather forecasts onto his iPhone on top of the ridges, which was a little surreal. The lee side of the rock outcrops were the best studied...As the weather deteriorated, we started working at lower elevations closer to the hut. The other three stuck around for a for more days so I hiked out alone, leaving the comfort of the hut under light rain and threatening clouds. The return hike required a gruesome 800m elevation gain. The whole alpine section I hiked into strong winds, hail and snow, which was cold, but at least kept me dry.

Oddly enough I was in the Red Hills a year ago to the day, so it turned out to be a nice trip for some self-reflection on the past year. It was a good trip for me, as a few key observations made these bizarre rocks make a little more sense to me this time around.

Red Hills in right distance from the Gordon Range

Haast Pass Canyoning Dec 29-Jan 1

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 13:47:00 +0000

29th: Mather Creek. The first day's plans to go up Stewart Creek (an all day epic) were quickly abandoned once we saw the high water level on the waterfall visible from the road. Somehow our plan B evolved to check out Mather Creek, an undescended creek with significantly more flow. We battled our way through the steep bush of Hopeless Spur, gaining the most prominent glacial terrace and sidling our way into the creek above the distinctive slip. All this was easier said than done. The top part was quite nice- solid schist and some nice big jumps into deep potholes of clear blue-green water. Also some fun downclimbs and a couple rappels. The canyon then opened out into an amphitheater as we boulder-hopped down the creek to the next ominous narrows. We found a scary looking drop with some potentially nasty hydraulics so we bypassed it, realizing later that the rest of this stretch was mellow and would have been totally fine. We explored up from the bottom of this section so that we saw everything. A short way downstream found us at the top of the final waterfall, the best feature in the canyon- a 25m billowing waterfall with a 4m high mostly free-standing rock arch directly in front. The impressive force of the water is ejected through the arch, emitting spray everywhere. We returned by floating down the blue Haast River. Not the best canyon I have been in but a good adventure. Unless I am mistaken that was my first canyon first descent! Please pardon the quality of the photos as they were taken with an early generation point-and-shoot waterproof camera without a tripod. Photos of me were shot by Chucky or Lara.

30th: Wilsons Creek. Today we went down Wilsons Creek in moderately high flow. The approach was not too bad despite 350m vertical as the bush was quite open. An impressively steep and narrow spur found us at the stream. After enjoying an early lunch and a bit of sun, we headed downstream where the water abruptly funnels down a dark and narrow crevice booming with the sounds of angry water. The canyon stays deep and inescapable until the end with no shortage of frothy white water and beautifully cut black-and-white schist. All the rappels were great. There must have been some recent aggradation as Chucky pointed out 12m jumps he did a year ago into what is now not even waist deep water. We had to take care to avoid some potentially dangerous hydraulics at times. In places the canyon was less than 1m wide and probably 60m high- a true slot canyon! It was 4 hours of really enjoyable canyon and I didn't want it to end. A close contender with the next day's trip for the best New Zealand canyon I have been in! Afterward we drove around a little bit and scouted for some potential canyons- there are a few that look amazing and are calling to me.

31st: Phoebe Creek. Today was an epic full-on day of canyoning that had both Chucky and I grinning with pleasure and thrilled to be back with the living once we emerged. It is probably the best canyon I have been through in New Zealand. We had very little information (rumors really) to go off as we were likely the third trip down the canyon in 15 years. We made a couple errors in the approach with the result that we had to cross some rather steeply-incised drainages to get to where we wanted to be. It was a total 6 hour epic adventure from the beginning right to the end. The canyon was dark and intimidating, the waterfalls frothy and raging despite the moderate flow levels. Stunningly beautiful waterfalls of great variety- big rooster tails, single drops into chutes, corkscrews, low angle flumes, big overhangs, criss-crossing water streams- most of which were quite terrifying viewed from the top. The power of the water was not to be taken lightly! At one point the canyon drops under a giant chockstone into a gorgeous cathedral-like room with a great rappel entry. We dropped about 250m vertical in 12 rappels and numerous downclimbs. We both did a 5m jump into a 1m deep pool...the water is so clear depth can be deceptive at times. Most of the bolts were in pretty good shape for being 15 years old, but we still had to improvise some anchors. The canyon was the perfect length, very beautiful, very fun and provided just the right amount of terror. We were both giddy and relieved when we finally emerged from the canyon. One of the better ways to spend a New Years Eve.

1st: Cross Creek. The final day we made a group of six to go down a very low-flowing Cross Creek. This was to be a fun, easy pleasure trip to wrap up the 4 days. Although relatively open, this canyon is beautiful and seems to reveal a new feature or option each time it's visited. It sports nice waterfalls, beautiful deep pothole pools and a neat arch feature. I was able to jump, slide or downclimb all the obstacles but 3 (which were rappelled). The biggest jump was about 12m. I really need to find more canyons like this one (except maybe longer).

Swimming through the arch

Thanks to Lara for letting me borrow her camera. Thanks to Chucky for 4 solid days of fun.

Borneo Nov 25-Dec 15

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 22:16:00 +0000

Or: Welcome to Dr. Fu Yen's Mystical Earthly Paradise*

Borneo is the largest island in Southeast Asia and actually comprises three countries. It consists of an Indonesian province of Kalimantan on the southern half of the island, the two Malaysian states of Sarawak and Sabah and the small oily country of Brunei. I flew from the uber-modern Changi Airport in Singapore to Miri in Sarawak, the city that is the sole gateway to Gunung Mulu National Park.

Gunung Mulu National Park is rather inaccessible for being one of Borneo's most famous tourist attractions and is reached either by a 30 minute plane flight or a 12 hour journey up river. The park is managed to standards unparalleled to other Malaysian national parks I have visited. There is an expansive boardwalk trail network through the jungle, a swing bridge canopy walk, several multi-day hiking options and many caves that are available to tour, both on and off path. The Park is incredibly proud of their status as a World Heritage site. The caves are unique in all the world, exceptional for their enormous size and unique fauna; it is also one of the most biodiverse places in the world. I saw countless varieties of insects (walking sticks, lantern bugs, giant crickets, fireflies, butterflies, bizarre caterpillars), geckos, snakes, pygmy squirrels, leeches, hornbills and frogs. The jungle is deafening with the sound of life. The amount of life in the caves was new for me. I almost put my hand on a hand-sized spider and another time I accidently cornered a racer snake in a small passage. At one point I had hundreds of bats swarming around me closely, but thankfully never flying into me. The cave swiftlets also darted past at close range, expertly echolocating in the dark by chirping.

Nepenthes (pitcher plant)

The purpose of this trip was to be a tourist volunteer for the national park (along with some caving friends of mine) with the specific goal of mapping and documenting Deer Cave, which boasts one of the largest (if not the largest) cave passages in the world but previously has only been mapped in limited detail. We made very detailed sketches of the cave (showing formations, sediments, guano, rocks, trail and lighting infrastructure, etc.) to produce a map, collected thousands of data to make a 3D model, made observations on the geology and biology, and photo documented everything. In all, we spent a very busy week and a half in the cave.

Deer Cave is the Park's most popular tourist attraction so is easily accessed via a 3.8km boardwalk through the jungle. Butterflies, lizards and strange insects were frequently spotted en route to the cave. Deer Cave is huge! It is believed to be the largest cave passage known to man, although there is now a close contender in Vietnam. At the simplest description, Deer Cave is a giant tunnel through a mountain that used to be a conduit of a giant underground river. The 140m wide double-barrel entrance leads to an enormous passage 120m wide and 140m high. In the roof of this passage a hole continues upward with the faint glow of daylight at times. A laser shot determined this aven (or pit) to be over 1000ft high! This undropped pit is tied for the second deepest pit in Southeast Asia. The floor is covered in piles of ammonium-reeking, chocolate-colored guano up to 10m high and crawling with insects. A small creek flows in intriguingly from the eastern wall and straight ahead the lofty heights of the Antler Passage can be seen taking off into the darkness. The main passage then splits into a series of multi-level meanders until the active back portion of the cave is reached. In this back passage the Adam and Eve showerheads can be seen- unbelievable formations that drip water from the ceiling in a perfect ring. A underground river flows into the cave from a beautiful 145m wide entrance from the Garden of Eden, an enormous 1km wide karst window surrounded by vertical blue walls of limestone. The river flows for a ways down this large passage until it eventually sumps. Only 65m away it resurfaces in the furthest extent of Deer Water Cave where the river continues in 700m of younger river passage. We surveyed 4.8 km of passage in the Deer Cave System, but it is clear there is potentially much more if the upper levels are able to be reached and the big pit dropped.

Adam's Showerhead

The theme of this trip was scale as my statistic-rich previous paragraph would suggest. These passages are so big the brain struggles to comprehend the distances. Even visual cues like a distant person seem warped. We would shoot a laser disto at a far wall or ceiling and frequently laugh at the large number we recorded. Because of the enormous entrances, daylight reaches over half a kilometer into the cave at the right time of day! In many places high-powered lights could barely penetrate the expanse. Our sketchers were frequently intimidated!

Look for the tiny people in the next two photos (click to enlarge)

All told there were 11 of us, all experts in what we do. We typically spent the day working in groups of two or three on our particular tasks. I spent most of the time aiding a survey team by establishing stations, measuring inclination and azimuth, and measuring distances using a laser disto. I also sketched on the days when we were short of people due to illness or in places that the usual sketchers were not comfortable going. When there was free time, I explored leads in side passages, took photographs or documented the geology. A typical day had me leaving the cave about sunset, just as the millions of bats left the cave for their night feed. Watching the bats spiral out the entrance and then draw out into long snaking chains was quite a sight. Walking back entailed a great show of fireflies as the cicadas and frogs deafened the night.

Bats and moon

Two of the survey days were standouts for me. One was the day I got to survey past the Deer Water low airspace to the sump. I donned a lifejacket and swam through the low airspace passage where water and ceiling are less than 15cm apart. Curiously the air is quite strong through this constriction, suggesting a connection to a yet undiscovered passage. On the other side, the river passage opens again considerably and it is comfortable walking and wading all the way to the sump. I had help quickly setting up a survey to the terminal sump, then spent the next three hours sketching on my own. While it probably was not the safest thing to do, I had a wonderful time caving in solitude. It was a good thing I finished the Deer Water survey that day as the following days it rained and the water level in the cave rose more than 2 meters!

A portion of the Deer Water sketch

The other standout was the last day of the survey. I, along with one other caver, negotiated tight squeezes and many false leads through a breakdown maze in the back of nearby Langs Cave. We wandered around until, somewhat amazingly, we broke through a particularly tight squeeze and found ourselves in a draughting passage we both recognized. We continued on, popping out a hole where we greeted some of the rest of our group who were ecstatic. We were the first people to connect Langs Cave to Deer Cave. The rest of the day I took over the survey of the Antler Passage, the oldest and highest [barely] accessible passage in the cave. Getting up into the passage involves a greasy and loose scramble up a gully that most of the group was not comfortable doing. Once up, the passage has a real underground wilderness feel to it, unlike the rest of the cave. The floor of the main Deer passage can be seen over 100m down. All around are giant stalagmites to 30m in height and a bizarrely-corroded flowstone floor reminiscent of a underwater reef. The >60m wide passage climbs a hill and then drops down the other side of a ridge to where the passage appears to terminate at breakdown. The draft swirls mysteriously here. Several good leads remain and it is hoped that one will lead out to another entrance near the Garden of Eden.

>20m tall stalagmite

Our survey was sketched at 20m to 1" and utilizes 26 cross sections and an astounding 1600 survey stations to accurately delineate the cave. The maps and 3D models remain to be made, but several useful statistics have come out of the work so far including at least 4.8km of passage in the Deer Cave System, a good understanding of the passage dimensions (huge!) and what is likely the second deepest pit in Southeast Asia. The back of the Antler Passage has a paleo-passage that has been filled by well-cemented breakdown that has since been dissolutioned by newer passage development, indicating the possibility of a very old passage here. The cave passages are strongly controlled by NE-SW-striking faults and, because there is relatively little collapse, a geomorphic history of the cave with at least 5 steps can be developed. In general, the active portion of the cave tended to migrate to the northwest (down dip) as base level drops. The reason the passages are so big appears to be because of the superposition of several individually large trunk passages. A large river passage migrated laterally into a preexisting subparallel passage, effectively doubling its size. The septum separating the "double-barreled" main entrance is an remnant of two former passages. The nature of the limestone (fine-grained, uniform, generally devoid of bedding and fractures) likely has inhibited the amount of collapse and allowed the passages to progress with limited self-destruction. The cave likely had a larger river than the one currently occupying it- this could be a regional scale effect of lowering base level, causing the underground waters to shift further NW through the Clearwater Cave System. Alternatively, the abandonment of Deer Cave could be linked to the formation of the Garden of Eden. An impressive record of sediments spanning the floor to ceiling will hopefully be cosmogenically dated to determine a detailed history of the cave's development. As always, there is still much to do!

Sketching (note trail in bottom left)

Organizing the sketches

One day was taken off to make the caver pilgrimage to the Sarawak Chamber in Good Luck Cave, the largest cave chamber known to man. Getting there required about 3 hours of jungle trekking on muddy trails and refreshing river crossings. I was miraculously spared by the leeches, but some of our group looked like they had been in a gunfight by the end of the day. The biting flies, however, did not take pity on me. The entrance to Good Luck Cave starts as a beautiful fern-encrusted, vertical-walled slot canyon that quickly becomes a 40m high passage with a flowing stream. The clear stream gradually deepens upstream and flows over sculpted limestone in a chain of waterfalls and pools. The water was the perfect temperature and unlike most caving I have done, I took every opportunity to be wet. The passage was sporty, requiring some fun climbing and swimming. One excessive pool measured about 10m in diameter with a 2m waterfall flowing into it. On the way out I found a spot to do a great 6m jump into the pool. After a while we abandoned the stream and began climbing a huge breakdown pile as the passage dimensions steadily increased. Before I knew it I was in the Sarawak Chamber- impressive for the inky blackness in every direction. The chamber dimensions are approximately 500m by 300m by 80m high! It is so big it has it's own weather! Mist filled the void. Best I know, all attempts to photograph the chamber have failed. After several silent moments of appreciation and awe, we returned the way we came. Pilgrimage accomplished.

In the Sarawak Chamber

Another day was taken off to do the classic Wind/Clearwater through trip, which despite taking less than half a day, was one of the best cave trips I have ever been on. The cave itself has over 175km of known passage and is currently the 9th longest cave in the world. It boasts one of the most incredible river passages anywhere. In terms of air volume, it is likely the largest cave in the world. Our trip started with a longboat ride upriver. The longboats are extended canoes that excel at the shallow riffled rivers in this portion of Borneo. There is a motor in the back that is pulled up when rocks or shallow riffles are approached. A man in the front then takes over to pull the boat up or down rapids with a long stick until it is deep enough to use the motor again. We went along the show cave path in Wind Cave to the nicely-decorated King's Chamber before leaving the path for some real caving. We did the classic route: Wind Cave Entrance -> King's Chamber -> Not Before Time -> Overtime -> Illusion Passage -> Wan Way Street -> King Seth's Maze -> The Battleship -> Clearwater River Passage. Most of the trip involved traversing a series of large chambers via up and down climbs and numerous slippery mud slopes. In two places we had to squeeze down tilted slots between a wall and breakdown blocks to continue on. The well-decorated chambers were nice, but easily forgotten once the Clearwater River passage was reached. Oh my God! This was a genuine underground river- one of the very finest in the world. It is 1.2km of pure, unadulterated caving bliss. The passage dimensions increase to about 40m in width with ceiling heights in excess of 70m. I floated, swam and jumped my way down the perfectly clear and cool river. The best jump I found was a solid 7m high. We were all giddy and did not want it to ever end. Just...words fail.

The last few days at Mulu I took an enjoyable longboat ride up the river and hiked the 8km to Camp 5, the most remote camp established during a Royal Geographic Society expedition in the late 1970s. Travel was quick on the good trail apart from stops to admire hornbills and snakes. The camp is situated in a beautiful spot overlooking the river in the Melinau Gorge with its shear-walled, white-blue limestone cliffs pocked with enticing cave entrances. A refreshing swimming hole just upstream was utilized both day and night! The second day we got an early start and scrambled up the steep route to the Pinnacles. The last 200m was the most enjoyable as it was near continuous ropes, bridges and ladders. At the top is one of the most visually appealing landscapes I have ever witnessed. Fluted spires of blue limestone rise 50m from a vivid green jungle like a forest of stone. After a while fog rolled in which only added drama and mystique to the landscape. A very special place. Going down, energy and knees were saved by falling into trees and thus using my upper body as much as possible. It was here I got my first leech.

Camp 5

Pinnacles, shot by Manuel

I flew into Kota Kinabalu in the Malaysian state of Sabah and ventured to Kinabalu National Park to undertake the two day hike up Mount Kinabalu, tallest mountain in Borneo at 4095m. It was here I ran out of Malaysian ringgit as nothing in the park takes credit card. Long story short, I would have been stranded were it not for the $30 NZ I happened to have stashed in my wallet. The park is way overdeveloped and touristy (though I could say the same of Yosemite and the Grand Canyon) and climbing the mountain involves a gauntlet of a mandatory permit, insurance and a mountain guide (i.e. glorified babysitter). The whole time you have to carry an ID tag and there are checkpoints you have to pass. I was assigned the oldest guide I saw on the entire mountain. I could have smoked him but chose to take my breaks when I could hear him breathing heavily. Even with photo breaks, we passed many a wheezing tourist and made it to the small alpine village of Laban Rata at 3000m in 3 hours instead of the usual 4-5 hours. The weather was great- the alpine air was the one respite in Borneo from the debilitating humidity.

The most impressive thing of the hike was the stream of porters overloaded with "stuff" to carry up to Laban Rata. Mostly young men and older women, they typically carried their load with homemade backpacks (boards with straps) including a strap that went over their forehead for support. Some were friendly, others seemed to be living out a prison sentence. The porters were so constant and so overloaded with stuff, it was easy to think they would not stop until they carried the whole world up the mountain.

After a cozy night's sleep in Pendant Hut (which I had all to myself), the second day I began hiking at 3:15AM. My guide and I sliced our way through the hoard of slower hikers en route to the summit. It was colder than I thought but no trouble as long as we kept moving. Once the pack was passed, I turned off my headlight and enjoyed hiking by moonlight reflecting off granite slickrock. We were on the summit before 5:30AM to witness a wonderful sunrise and golden glow on the collection of peaks around us. It was a beautiful landscape but one awkward to photograph. The views were expansive. On the way down I met my guides to go down the mountain via the world's highest via ferrata, a trail of cable, iron steps and cable bridges across steep granite slabs. Beautiful views but the sense of exposure was lacking and the motion was really quite repetitive. We made good time returning to the trailhead.

The following day I took a ferry out to the small Sapi Island in Tunku Abdul Rahman National Park offshore Kota Kinabalu. Put me on a desert island and I will walk every square inch and make sure I understand the geology before I even attempt to relax. Mudskippers sunned themselves on rocks, glancing amphibiously at me, and launching into the water when I got too close. Gastropods were attached to the rocks in abundance and rolled off when they felt the vibration of my step. A 2m long snake and a 1m monitor lizard were sunning themselves on rocks. So life in abundance scampered with my every step. Apart from the landing area, I saw only one other person on my walk around the island. I chose the best beach on the island and alternated between reading, sunbathing and snorkeling in the crystal clear waters. The snorkeling was surprisingly good- I saw at least 6 types of coral, 30 species of fish, eels, vivid blue star fish, jellyfish and sea cucumbers.

Once back in Kota Kinabalu I had one (of many) Malaysian public transportation adventures to get to the airport to catch a flight back to Miri. I had to carry both of my bags on my lap so I effectively couldn't see anything. I spent the last two days in Miri taking day trips to Lambir Hills National Park and Niah Caves National Park. Lambir Hills boasted some nice jungle and abundant waterfalls falling freely over bedded sandstone. On a hike up to the Bukit Panto viewpoint I saw several pitcher plants and was ravaged by leeches. By the end of the day I had collected 5 leeches and my feet bled profusely.

Another Malaysian transportation adventure found me at Niah Caves National Park, site of archeological investigations that unearthed 40000 year old human remains. Painted Cave had 1200 year old cave paintings, which unfortunately have deteriorated greatly over the years. Great Cave was quite impressive- huge, wide fossil trunk passages straight through the hill with a network of bamboo poles and scaffolding hanging up to 200ft from the roof. Highly-skilled nesters free climb (without safety gear) up the poles to cantilevered platforms to collect the lucrative delicacy of swiftlet nests. A high-quality nest can sell for $1000 US per kilogram. Fatalities are not uncommon.

Great Cave (note the birder poles on the ceiling)

During the trip I had two aces up my sleeve that made travel more enjoyable. One was that to the untrained Malaysian ear my accent was close enough to be a Kiwi accent. Some experimenting revealed that I generally got a much more favorable reaction and a longer, friendlier conversation when I said I lived in New Zealand rather than the United States. At times I felt a little ashamed saying it, but it was undeniable that the Malaysians thought quite highly of New Zealand. Many even had family that have emigrated to NZ or otherwise worked there.

My second ace is that people seemed to have quite a bit of respect when I told them I had spent about a week and a half volunteering for Gunung Mulu NP. The people took pride in their national parks and were delighted to hear about the cave mapping work. I am really drawn to the idea of vacations where half of the time is spent volunteering in some useful way- I'll have to keep it in mind for future trips.

Everywhere I went the Malaysian people were very friendly, particularly at Mulu. The climate was excessively humid for someone living in New Zealand but after a few days I began to acclimatize somewhat. I was really hoping to have a great trip but not too great- it is after all a big world and I have seen so little of it. Unfortunately, I have fallen for Mulu--its people, food, wildlife, landscape, caves-- and suspect it will not be the last trip I take to explore this special place.

Miri stilt houses

Penan house at Mulu

Thanks are due to the friendly and competent staff at Mulu and my caving cohorts for a very memorable trip.

*"Dr. Fu Yen's Mystical Earthly Paradise" is the name of a passage in Clearwater Cave. I have not been there but think it's a great name.

West Coast/Nelson Caving Oct 20-29

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:06:00 +0000

I wrapped up two weeks of fieldwork with a well-deserved shower, a grand feast, good company, a load of clean laundry and a night's sleep in a bed. Then the decisions began of what to do with ourselves. The major aspirations were to do an overnight trip in Nettlebed and a trip down Harwoods Hole. While I have been through both of these before, this would be my first time leading these trips, and with people that hadn't been in them before.

We opted to check out Cataract Pot first, which like many New Zealand caves, was half in the finding of it. It was not that it was a particularly hard cave to find (you can hear the "cataract" from a popular tramping track), I just only had a vague idea of where it was and thus went mostly on instinct. After discovering some trails that led to other trails, I got a little smarter and figured out where the cave should be by comparing the survey I had with the map on my GPS. After checking out a few holes that were not Cataract Pot, we found it. Cataract Pot has one of the most beautiful entrance rappels I have seen- a clean, 40m free-hanging rappel down a shaft that gracefully bells out from the top. A small rivulet drops off the lip of the shaft, shattering into an impressive cascade that fills half the chamber and makes communication hard over its roar. Unfortunately no photos were taken as the chamber at the bottom is a whirlwind of mist and would have obscured the camera lens instantly. Wetsuits were a good call. We explored around finding a couple decent-sized passages. I then revisited nearby Cave Creek (described elsewhere on this page)- this time with wetsuits and wetter intentions (so again no photos). We walked up the mostly-dry trunk passage and bravely swam 30m to where we could walk again. Before we knew it we were at the sump that connects to Myopia Cave via a 20m dive. We then went back and explored the very wet lower reaches, noting that the water level was much higher than my last visit. I ventured upstream, removing my helmet at a low ceiling with only 15cm of airspace. Past this point the passage opened up again and we explored a bit more. A more prolonged constriction with about 7cm airspace gave way to a really neat passage that reminded me of catacombs under some ancient city. We had a look at the downstream continuation, but opted out as the water was too high and the current too strong.

Touristy detours were made to Pancake Rocks and the Truman Track. The latter is one of the very best 10 minutes hikes in New Zealand- it passes through three different vegetation zones before arriving at a rugged and scenic West Coast beach complete with fantastic rock sculptures, overhangs and a waterfall that plunges right onto the beach.

Blowhole at Pancake Rocks

A touchy forecast necessitated some quick organizing for our Nettlebed Cave through-trip. We stayed the night at the Mt. Arthur Hut, sleeping through the bad weather. We then hiked up the ridge and down patchy snow to abseil into Blizzard Pot. As it turned out, we managed to miss the second batch of horrible weather while underground so our timing was perfect. The trip is described elsewhere on this page so I will only add the few relevant comments. Blizzard Pot was much drippier than my last trip through, which really had me wondering about "the ducks" (sometimes dry, sometimes little airspace) which hopefully weren't "the sumps" (no airspace).

The real standout moment on the trip was when I realized that the first "duck" was sumped. Not good, but at least that one we could bypass via a tight crawl. The second one however looked grim with about 15cm of airspace at the start and I was unsure whether we would be able to get through. Once the other two were through the bypass squeeze, I took a deep breath, slid up to my neck in the cold water and rocketed through the passage as fast I could. Although now very cold, I was on the other side and determined we would make it through. I helped pass packs and sent the others through before several minutes of jumping jacks to warm up. Good teamwork had us through the Hinkle Horn Honking Holes in no time. Right before the entrance we noticed squishy mud underfoot and very fresh green debris on the low ceiling- apparently the entrance completely floods to where you can't get out and it had probably happened in the last 48 hours! I managed to lead us all through the cave with only very minor navigational wonderment. Near the Pearse Resurgence we saw a family of Whio (blue ducks, very rare). Watching the ducklings navigate the little rapids was quite cool! Lastly, the route up Whiskey Creek back to our car at Flora Saddle was a real kicker and made us appreciate just what a deep cave Nettlebed is!

We made it out in time to enjoy fresh fish and chips on a boat dock and arrived at the NZSS Annual General Meeting (AGM) weekend in time to catch up with my good friends. After what I thought was a well-deserved rest day, I led a trip down Harwoods Hole.

Harwoods Hole is unique in all of New Zealand and is one of my very favorite caves. A 176m (that's about 60 stories!) free-hanging, open-air rappel down a 40m wide shaft finds you at the top of a huge underground scree slope. The experience of slowly descending the rope surrounded by voids on all sides can best be described as slow motion sky diving. Once down, the fun really begins as you traverse an underground stream complete with waterfalls and deep indigo pools to skirt and span. Bouldering problems abound in a vain attempt to stay dry until the inevitable wade at the bottom of the cave. Rigging and de-rigging went smoothly and I had a very enjoyable trip.

The last morning of AGM was shaping up to be another day of partial motivation until Richard suggested a group of us raft and kayak down the Motueka River. Keen for something other than caving, kayaks were assembled and wetsuits were donned. I wedged myself into the smallest kayak I have ever been in and hoped for the best. It was a pleasant run with some enjoyable riffles and rapids and only one rapid that got my adrenaline going. Happily I completed the whole run without flipping.

AGM was really a lot of fun and I can't say how much I enjoyed catching up with my fellow Kiwi cavers. They really are like my family here. The dinner and barbecue were a good eat with wonderful company. I cleaned up all the trophies in the NZSS Photography Competition, which really only proves that people should put more entries in. Over half of the entries in the competition were mine...

Post-AGM, Ryan and I spent a day wondering around an area I have long been curious about near East Takaka, north of Gorge Creek. Together we found 9 entrances- 7 pit entrances and 2 walk-ins. The pits ranged from 15m to 20m deep and were explored using vertical gear. Some of the pits had rooms of stalactites (to 2m in length) and bones (including moa) off the bottom, while others drained down a hole much too small for human entry. We left no leads and carefully documented each entrance. While we didn't find anything huge, everything I entered was clearly virginal. There is still a huge area left to explore on future trips with lots of potential remaining.

Moa femur (large extinct bird)

Another designated lazy day found me wandering the streets of Takaka, cliff jumping at Paynes Ford and driving to the road's end in the Cobb Valley. With the last of the day's light we tramped through the bizarre ultramafic-adapted vegetation to a place I have long wanted to stay, the Asbestos Cottage. The place was as interesting and special as the story behind it. Annie and Henry Chaffey lived in the two-room cottage for 37 years, essentially as recluses. Annie fled an abusive husband to start a new life of isolation with her lover Henry near a remote asbestos mine. Most supplies were carried in by Henry on his shoulders and when they did occasionally entertain guests they were known for dressing fashionably. Twenty years after fleeing, Annie's husband died and Henry and Annie were finally married. During all her years at the cottage, Annie returned to civilization only once (for an operation). A little after Henry died at 83, Annie took her own life. It may not be your classic fairy tale, but it must have been love. Despite being over one hundred years old, the Asbestos Cottage remains a very special place that thankfully has been preserved for all to enjoy. Some of the descendants of the daffodils they planted were in bloom around the cottage.

The last caving trip was a venture into the well-named Simply Sumpless entrance of the Riwaka Resurgence. A team of cave divers explored up from the sumped resurgence, breaking into giant walking passage after two sumps. A clever caver overlaid their survey maps on a topographic map, figured out the mostly likely place for an entrance, and marched up the hillside to find an entrance right where he expected! After 15 minutes of annoying crawls, squeezes and climbs, one last crawl leads to an enormous room with a minimum dimension of 40m. We had a bit of a wander around, mostly satisfying ourselves with attempts at cave photography. I used a borrowed halogen light with a huge brick of a battery to light the place up. I have a good lead in there I need to remember to check sometime.

Thanks to Mary for letting us invade for a night. Thanks to Ryan, Lara and Francis for some great caving trips. Thanks to Richard for the kayak trip.

Ford Creek Oct 19

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:05:00 +0000

Armed with knowledge from a friendly local, the three of us set off to explore an obscure West Coast canyon I have been intrigued about since I came across a chance reference to it several months back. Ford Creek is one of those places that you would expect little of by looking at a topo map or aerial photo. The short hike to the subtle canyon cuts through thorny blackberries and gorse and passes a wrecked car before arriving at a stream cutting through orange sandstone. Wow. For such a short 30m deep slot canyon, it really has quite a lot to offer in terms of beauty. The Island Sandstone, which the creek cuts through, is sculpting into some amazing and complex scallops, potholes and meanders. The white, frothy stream provides a beautiful contrast to the creamy orange sandstone and the odd sulfurous algae-stained springs emanating from the walls. Cascading waterfalls drop into the canyon from many locations. A punctuated light rain actually gave the best of both worlds- the rocks took on a lovely sheen, but still remained grippy and easy to travel on. A plethora of old gold mining shrapnel (and in one place two wrecked cars) detract from the beauty slightly, but are very interesting nonetheless. Mining relicts included rail tracks, gears, ore cart wheels and old cables. The creek had waist deep pools in places for which a wetsuit was appreciated, but for the most part was a pleasant ankle to calf depth. The canyon was well-suited for photography, which made it easy to spend a couple hours in.

Copland Valley Oct 13-15

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:05:00 +0000

With a grim weather outlook we did what I thought was the best use of bad weather- sit in hot springs. We left the Copland car park at 6PM and arrived at the Welcome Flat rock biv at 10PM (not a bad effort!). I did the whole hike in nothing but boxers (and boots), which kept me at a comfortable temperature.

The hot pools themselves are world-class and set in an landscape few other springs can match. The water emerges boiling from its source and is channeled to 3+ pools whose temperatures can be adjusted by varying their input. The pools are surrounded by orange travertine terraces and marshes, in turn surrounded by moss-clad bush and towering snowy peaks. The periodic show of violent avalanches across the valley was welcomed entertainment to some quality soaking.

The middle day I went for a wet hike up the valley to Douglas Rock Hut which afforded few views in the miserable weather. The swing bridge over Tekano Creek was knocked out by a flood which is a pity. The creeks were flooded and brown with sediment so that I blindly stepped across them. Much time was spent in the hot pools day and night as drops impacted the pool's surface. I was very happy to not be doing fieldwork in the pouring rain.

Welcome Flat rock biv

Fieldwork Oct 5-13, 16-18, 31-Nov 2

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:03:00 +0000

This was the most productive and enjoyable PhD fieldwork I have done to date. Uncharacteristically good weather, a keen field assistant and longer days allowed me to get to some hard to reach places. Some days we didn't return to camp until 9PM. I managed to answer some questions I had, create many new ones, and find some great outcrops. I am now fully willing to argue I have the most complete and important section through the Alpine Fault! I have much to think about and to plan for the next round of fieldwork, whenever that may be.

I managed to go canyoning, rappelling and even caving in the name of science! Needless to say I am really starting to get into my fieldwork. It's hard work and I can go an entire day of bashing through thick bush without seeing a rock, but overall the persistence has paid off.

Several long days were spent bashing through wet bush to get to Livingstone Fault Zone outcrops. We revisited a previously described outcrop which is the best section through the fault I have seen yet. It's a very tricky place to reach with waterfalls above and below where the fault crosses the creek and steep unstable slopes everywhere else.

All photos of me in this post by Ryan Weidert.

Steeper than it looks!

Abseiling a waterfall

On a bright, sunny day we stretched into wetsuits and descended Monkey Puzzle Gorge, which was one of the most enjoyable days of fieldwork I have ever done. Once we swam the first stretch at the start, we were committed to go out the bottom no matter what we encountered downstream. The entire day was spent swimming, floating, wading, and jumping our way downstream, examining the rocks and taking samples and measurements where necessary. Steep inescapable walls, thick vegetation and deep blue green pools framed a very beautiful and very tropical scene. There was only one section of the gorge which caused terror- we found ourselves at the lip of a 10m waterfall with white frothy rapids and room-sized boulders as far as we could see. This we bypassed with some difficulty by traversing the bush on river left. Imagine room-sized boulders covered in thick moss and ferns with the 5m deep gaps between them covered in unsupportive moss. We took it slow and tested every step before our full weight was applied. The rest of the canyon was a breeze.

Greenland Group gneiss

Trying to get a GPS fix in the middle of the river

Ryan cleared some rather large river boulders at the Martyr River Alpine Fault outcrop with the result that we had several square meters of important footwall outcrop. There is now only a 2m section missing where the fault has thrust over river cobbles to an uncertain depth. We also cleaned an exposure at a Martyr tributary which perfectly exposes the fault core- my missing 2m of section at the other exposure! I won't describe further here but it is all very interesting!

Jacksons Bay, southernmost settlement on the West Coast

The Cray Pot, only restaurant in field area

Jackson River Road, only road access to field area

Eying a gap of several days of good weather we then flew into the Jerry River, a place only briefly examined by geologists before because of its remoteness. The Jerry had completely different rock types than I have seen in the Jackson (or anywhere else for that matter) and I couldn't help but laugh and scratch my head every time I saw something new. Entire hillsides of fresh outcrop were mapped, measured and sampled. In a few days we managed to cover quite a bit of ground! Sadly, I collected few samples that aren't held together by glue or aluminum foil which means painstaking preparation later. It is clear the Alpine Fault is a very different beast here than it is to the north. We were picked up just before being completely socked in by low clouds and had to fly the long way out the coast. Had the helicopter arrived any later, we probably would have been sitting out a nasty storm in the tent for a couple more days.

Nice outcrop! (note fault at center)

Waiting for our ride

Escaping before the storm

One day was spent looking for, and exploring, Serendipity Cave. I found the main entrance to Serendipity by crawling into a small hole which intersected the proper entrance. Amazingly, this is not the first time I have found a known cave entrance from the inside by exploring an unmapped hole! There was a lot more cave than I anticipated and it had a main passage with quite comfortable dimensions. One side chamber was absolutely choked with stalactites and flowstone. I checked about a dozen leads, most of which kept going and all of which were virgin passage. The whole time I was giddy that there are caves in my field area. There is still much to explore! My hope is to find a clever way to use the cave to determine an uplift rate for the region west of the Alpine Fault and possibly a record of tilting.

Fieldwork!

The last day we went for a sunset walk along a beautiful West Coast beach near Cole Creek and ended up pitching tents on it.

After caving at the top of the South Island we returned to backpack into the Cascade River to check out the area near Woodhen Creek for a few days. Some good discoveries were made, but a good amount of time was also spent wondering aimlessly through the bush. You can't always have outcrop where you want it.

Woodhen Pond (an Alpine Fault sag pond)

Navigating the swamps

Theta Tarn

Cascade River

Hopefully next up, some rafting and more rappelling to get to those hard to reach outcrops. Rest assured, there is still a seemingly endless list of things to still check out in future fieldwork.

A huge thanks to Ryan Weidert for being my devoted field assistant. He did a superb job of "improving" outcrops, taking photos, observing, blazing trails, carrying stuff, using his height to get better GPS reception, occasionally being a ladder, battling sandflies, testing rotten logs and swamp squishiness, controlling weather, and rationing sweets.

Robinson Creek Oct 4

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:02:00 +0000

I decided to start a month of fieldwork and traveling with my friend/field assistant Ryan by checking out one of the canyons near Haast Pass en route to my field area.

It was one of those mornings that did not exactly motivate one to undertake grandiose plans that would potentially involve intense suffering. The day got a slow start as we ran out of the car into the blistering cold to check the water levels in Wilsons Creek before rushing back to the safety of the car heater, which slowly defrosted my brain. Water levels: check. Hmm...not so sure about the snow falling from the sky though, and the 1 degree Celcius temperature, and the fact that we are already getting a late start to what would promise to be over 8 hours of partial or full submersion in near-freezing water. A long, slow discussion followed, which mostly consisted of putting every extremity next to a heated vent and staring blankly out the front window. At some point it was decided we should go canyoning since we were here, but that a fully committing day did not sound too smart given the conditions and potential for hypothermia (I had only a 4mm/3mm wetsuit). We would instead go for Robinson Creek, another new one to me and only about a 2.5 hour trip.

And so we suited up at the car and plodded up the hill to the start of the canyon. The drop-in had snow everywhere and light clumpy snow fell from the sky in waves. Perfect New Zealand canyoning weather (intense sarcasm)! Robinson builds slowly with a few small rappels and jumps and then before you know it the creek plunges eerily and ominously into a dark cavern whose bottom is not immediately visible. A beautiful 25m rappel skirts the full blast of the waterfall and drops you into a magnificent dark chamber. Where the obvious reaction from the top of the rappel is one of foreboding, looking up into the chamber from downstream inspires feelings of awe and appreciation. The circulating blast of the air from the falling water suspends the whole chamber in mist and in places actually forces the waterfall back skywards! The noise was deafening. Just downstream the canyon inter-fingers in a dark slot with enormous chockstones overhead. Shortly after the cavern section, the creek emerges from the depths of the glacial bench it has incised. Apart from a minor snafu on the last rappel and the constant cold, it was a very enjoyable trip. A short while later we were quickly peeling our freezing wetsuits and huddling next to the car heaters as I drove towards a sunny West Coast to do fieldwork.

Note snow in background!

Rappelling into the dark chamber

Martyr Fieldwork Sept 16-21

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 21:50:00 +0000

Six days, one pair of wet socks. With a solid weather forecast, I headed off to the coast to get in some fieldwork before my big push for more challenging fieldwork in October. I answered a few questions I had and created twice as many new ones with some outcrops I came across. I did some "gardening" and "diverting" so that hopefully some outcrops will be improved next time I return. This was the first time I went without a field assistant since I avoided rappelling and rafting this time, which really wasn't too bad.

Some lessons learned from a week of solo fieldwork:
-West Coast rivers are always deeper and swifter than they appear.
-If a log appears rotten, it probably is.
-If a log appears fresh, there's a good chance it's rotten.
-My field area contains some of the slipperiest rocks in NZ.
-I don't know what everyone is talking about, I am an excellent conversationalist.
-If you want to know whether it's possible to get somewhere, befriend a helicopter pilot!

Above: Lake Ellery and the confluence of the Arawhata and Jackson rivers

The Alpine Fault is between the range front of the Southern Alps (Pacific Plate) and the rounded hills in the coastal plains (Australian Plate).

Alpine Fault core (looking down; Pacific Plate to top of photo)

Alpine Fault core (looking NE; Pacific Plate to right, Australian Plate to left). A lot of my field photos look like they were taken in the dark because the bush is too thick to take photos without a flash. Many outcrops require some degree of gardening...

Around Dunedin

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 10:10:00 +0000

This seems as good a time as any to share an amalgamation of Dunedin photos I have taken. As I mentioned in the last post, I have been bound to Dunedin for the last month or so. I have been coping by exploring my fair city on runs, bike rides and drives in a scavenger hunt of sorts.

One thing I absolutely love about Dunedin is the plethora of street art- be it commissioned murals or clever graffiti- I have never been anywhere where they were so abundant. In particular, Dunedin's bus stops are a simple joy to me. The vast majority of the bus stops (over 60!) were painted by the late John Noakes, who also painted many large murals around town. The most common themes are sea creatures, space/sci-fi, and seascapes with towering islands. Many have to do with the local area in one way or another. Blue seemed to be his weapon of choice.

For the most part people seem to respect the murals and public art- "tagging" someone else's art is rare. Some graffiti has a pointedly political purpose, others are just for fun. For example, the devilishly smiling cartoon giraffes someone has taken to painting all over town. I have seen over 20 of these little buggers, sometimes in the most unlikely places and sometimes when you least expect them. Some are in love, others are pirates. Once you start opening your eyes to look for graffiti and art instead of tuning it out, you start seeing it all over the place.

Dunedin Bus Stops: I have not figured out how to upload a larger image than this. Sorry.

Note: Many of these photos utilize HDR. This was the only way I could capture all the detail in the shadows and highlights of some of the bus stops.

Feel free to leave a comment. It would be nice to know if anyone actually looks at this :)

Giraffes

Past in Present

Robbie Burns

Church of Chris

In case you ever wondered where driftwood ends up

Boat shed

West Coast Field Trip Aug 28-Sep 1

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 09:53:00 +0000

I managed to escape Dunedin for the West Coast field trip after being confined to the city for well over a month. It was good to get out and travel a little after working so hard without a break. The trip wasn't too noteworthy except for the impressive lightning/thunder storms that are a rarity in this country. We toured classic NZ geology, looking at sections through the Haast and Alpine Schists and visited the more accessible outcrops of the Alpine Fault. All the outcrops had deteriorated significantly since I last visited them in 2006- it really is amazing how dynamic the landscape is on the West Coast. The highlight of the trip was a talk I attended at Franz Josef educating the locals on the very real hazards of a large Alpine Fault earthquake. It was a beautiful moment of science with a purpose. I found an obscure trail at Franz Josef glacier I did not know existed before- cables and ladders to the best view of the glacier. Also saw a couple Fiordland Crested penguins (New Zealand's rarest) at a West Coast beach. It was particularly neat to watch one swim up the creek to its nesting site.

Two Thumb Range July 25-26

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 00:07:00 +0000

I will be brief as I think there are only so many ways to describe white snow and blue skies and the pictures probably say it all. Two days of exceptionally clear and still weather seemed to be all the motivation I needed to go for a play in the snow. Snow conditions across the island were extreme, with a high risk of avalanches and a recent death, so we planned a route following ridge lines as much as possible and were extra cautious. The plan was to depart from our car at the head of Lake Tekapo, hike up to the snow where we donned skis and snowshoes (snowshoes for me), traverse a ridge to where we could drop in to a saddle and cross into the next drainage where there was a mustering hut we could stay at. Reality proved slightly different as impressive cornices and unstable snow meant dropping off the east side of the ridge towards the hut would be a risky endeavor. After considering our options we opted to camp on a flat spot on the snowy ridge at an elevation of about 2200m. Needless to say it was a cold night, especially for me since I was the only one in the party sporting leather boots (everyone else had plastic). It was however a beautifully starry night and so calm that we lit two candles out in the open which happily flickered. The morning treated us with beautiful alpenglow on the east face of Mt. Cook and views of Lake Tekapo, the Southern Alps and even of Banks Peninsula far to the east. We tried to continue along the ridge but found ourselves at a place demanding some snow or rock climbing with consequences. We had several options to choose but in the end decided going back the way we came and then dropping down to a different ridge and walking along the Macauley River back to the car would be the sensible thing to do. My feet were quite destroyed by the time I made it back to the car from my stiff unbroken boots.

Lake Tekapo and the Southern Alps

Mt. Cook in left background

Stewart Island July 6-11

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 22:16:00 +0000

Stewart Island, known to the Maori as Rakiura, is the anchor stone of the great waka (canoe) Te Wai Pounamu, otherwise known as the South Island of New Zealand. I got to the island via a 2 hour trip on the University of Otago's research vessel, the Polaris II. I spent the journey in a beanbag on the back deck, gently rocking back and forth, listening to good music and watching small islands go past as the sun set (it was a little cold but otherwise pure decadence). We had beautiful weather the whole week- warm considering it is winter and the next thing south in Antarctica and just enough rain to give us a near-constant supply of rainbows.

Stewart Island has a permanent population less than 400 people in one small township along a few scenic bays (1 grocery store, 1 pub/hotel, 1 church, and a few others stores and restaurants mostly closed in winter). 95% of the island is pure wilderness and because of aggressive campaigns to eradicate pests, native wildlife is overabundant.

I was helping teach an ambitious sedimentology field trip with the goal of looking at active and recent beach deposits and to characterize offshore sediments using seismic, side-scan sonar and grab samples from the seafloor. I spent my time on Ringaringa and Ocean beaches (the former somewhat sheltered and the latter exposed to the sea) helping the students identify different sediments and processes. Getting to Ocean Beach involved being dropped off by boat for the day (survival gear, emergency radio and all) and a short bush walk where I saw two kiwis in broad daylight! In the afternoons I usually had about an hour of daylight to myself to go for a run or take some photos, which was very nice. To summarize: I was paid to sit on a remote beach for a week and teach students about geology!

Central North Island June 17-26

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 03:52:00 +0000

Despite some of the shortest and coldest days of the year, we were blessed with a blocking high parked over the North Island, which gave a solid week without rain and allowed me to fit in everything I hoped to do with my visiting brother and sister. There was a curious, almost eerie lack of tourists everywhere we went which I thoroughly appreciated. The North Islanders were friendly as always.

The trip started before I even left by waking up early, semi-consciously noting the abnormally cold bathroom floor, groggily jumping in the shower to defrost, and then looking out the window to discover the winter wonderland that was going to make the drive to the airport an adventure. Once ready I walked out front and snapped some photos, admiring the lack of cars and relative quiet, when I started chatting to a neighbor who told me to look up the road where several crashed cars lined and filled the streets. Most cars that drove past slipped and skidded at least to some extent, while some had tires spinning disproportionately to their rate of travel. My fearless stunt driver Giulia picked me up and off we went to the airport at parade speed. Destruction and chaos where in the air. It felt a bit like driving in a war zone (or so I imagine). We passed no fewer than 40 wrecked, damaged, guttered or abandoned cars on our drive- some in the middle of the road. I think the route we took was the only possible way we could have made it to the airport successfully with other routes blocked by jack-knifed tanker trucks. We played soothing music on the CD player, but you could still feel the tension in the air as we drove. In short, I was on one of two flights that left the airport before it was completely closed for the day! It was a beautiful flight over the South Island with (surprise, surprise!) the worst weather centered on Dunedin.

Coromandel Peninsula: Once landing in Auckland and sorting out the siblings, we drove for the Coromandel. The most notable thing about the drive was a sign in a farmer's field of a baby seal holding a sign that said "Save the Human Babies" (maybe you had to be there). The next day we did a couple short hikes including a beach, a waterfall, a kauri forest and a steep route up Castle Rock for 360 degree views of islands, beaches, forestry and bush. We ended the day hiking in the dark up to the Pinnacles Hut, New Zealand's largest. The hut sleeps 80 but there were only a cosy 6 present at the hut when we finally arrived. The following day we went up the stairways and ladders to the top of the Pinnacles for more panoramic views. This area has an interesting history of mining and logging.

Photo taken by Michael

White Island: We toured White Island, New Zealand's most active volcano and some of the most spectacular volcanic landscape I have ever seen. From Whakatane, a hour plus boat found us at the island where the boat anchored just offshore and we were ferried to shore in a small Zodiac. The water at the landing site was all sorts of beautiful tropical milky blues from the mixing of the murky ash-colored crater rivulets with the dark blue sea. We landed at the remnants of old sulfur mining ventures from the 1920s and before, thoroughly rusted and corroded from the aggressive volcanic atmosphere. My brother made the appropriate (but hard-to-explain) comment that the island and the whole trip had a very Wes Anderson/Life Aquatic feel to it. The landscape within the crater was very cool- mounds and ridges emitting steam, sulfur, and boiling mud surrounded by snaking streams of various acidity, color and horrible taste. Colors abounded with sulfur yellow, ash white and rust red dominating the scene. We got to see gaping holes with violently boiling liquid- one of which was less than a week old! The crater lake (pH of -0.1!) was only visible briefly between bursts of steam. The gas masks provided were not just a tourist amusement- in this area the air irritated the back of your throat and made you cough constantly. One area normally visited by the tours was appreciated at a distance since it was sporadically shooting a several meter high explosion of boiling water with significant steam accompaniment.

Rotorua and Taupo: After staying in Rotorua long enough to convince my brother and sister it was too touristy (about an hour), we drove on to visit three world-class hot springs, each progressively hotter and more satisfying. Kerosene Creek has several large pools with hot waterfalls and is a well-known classic. The second, which I will not name here, consisted of a lovely pool sheltered by overhanging cliffs and trees and has a 2.5m hot waterfall plunging into it. The hot vents seeping through the sand at the bottom of the pool, the lack of people, and the massaging power of the waterfall were welcome charms. Lastly, we relaxed in Otumuheke Stream, another well-known soak near the Waikato River at Taupo. Perfect temperature and steam from a nearby waterfall acted as a sauna. We also checked out the always amusing mud pots (exploding bubbling mud and rude slurping sounds) and went for a two hour mountain bike ride.

World-class hot spring

Mt. Ruapehu (New Zealand's tallest volcano) from Desert Road

Whanganui River: If I had to pick a highlight it would probably be the 3-day, 92km canoe/kayak trip down the Whanganui River. In summer the trip is very popular with 20+ bunk huts and large campsites filling to capacity. Despite the cold, I found the trip thoroughly enjoyable in that we did not see another person for 2.5 days and thus had the huts and scenery all to ourselves. The scenery was spectacular with tree ferns lining the bush-river interface, interesting mudstone cliffs covered with ferns and mosses, countless waterfalls, the odd large rata or totara tree sticking commandingly above the rest of the bush, and many dark tributaries to explore. The small rapids and other obstacles (logs, rocks) were taken seriously to avoid flipping in the very cold water. We went on the side-hike to the Bridge to Nowhere, a huge concrete bridge built in 1936 spanning a deep gorge to open up land to pioneering farmers. By 1942 the valley was abandoned. Today the bush has reclaimed the land and the bridge really does feel dramatically out of place. The last day was foggy which gave a completely different persona to the valley. My favorite stretch of the trip was Te Wahi Pari, "The Place of Cliffs," where still water reflected the steepest and tallest vertical cliffs. We also stopped to check out Puraroto Caves, interesting mudstone stream passage caves. The scenery, history, solitude and adventure of being the only people around really made the trip.

The Bridge to Nowhere

Photo taken by Lauren

Waitomo Caves: I got the celebrity treatment at Waitomo Caves, which admittedly felt quite nice. A mate gave us free private VIP custom tours of the famous Waitomo Glow Worm Caves, a black water rafting trip in lower Ruakuri Cave (good clean/cold fun), and a tour of the upper levels of Ruakuri Cave on which >$4million was spent to develop as a tourist cave. Walking through the Ruakuri Cave gate and finding yourself at the top of a huge futuristically-lighted spiral staircase. At the bottom of this circular shaft is a ritualistically-lighted chunk of naturally-sculpted limestone with water dripping on it from the ceiling far above. Like finding an ancient altar of sacrifice inside a space station. I also revisited the Ruakuri Walkway which I still think is a work of art as far as trails go.

Black water rafting (photo by Brad)

Weirdest cave entrance I know of!

Auckland: I really don't like cities- they bring out the worst in me (and everyone else I reckon). To grasp for positive things to say, I still ran into many friendly, helpful people and the Auckland Museum was a good visit as always. I can't get over how cool it is that the Maori gave a specific name to everything from swords to instruments to a sharpening stone and they all had a history. Some Maori war clubs made of pounamu (jade) are given the name of a distinguished ancestor and treated with the same respect as that ancestor.

Thanks to Giulia, Travis and my brother and sister.

Inside the Auckland Museum marae (traditional Maori meeting house)

Nettlebed Through Trip June 2-3

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 09:47:00 +0000

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

Hiking to the cave (Mt. Arthur in background)

Loose rocks in the Funk Hole

Salvation Hall Camp: I'm the red lump

Cave nap

A small dose of relaxation

Babylon May 31

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 09:46:00 +0000

I had a great time in Babylon Cave. The entrance would be about 50m high were it not for the rock pile which fills all but the top 5m. Clambering down this great rock pile brings you to the Euphrates Plain (and the Euphrates River), about 500m of boulder hopping and stream walking in the bottom of a 60m high by 15m wide passage. Then you climb past the Hanging Gardens, up a 80m high rock pile called the Ziggurat. Here the immense passage all but ends in rockfall, but down the backside is a small downward leading hole know as Ishtar Gate, which is incidentally gated. Side note: I am able to squeeze through the locked gate. Down a small climb, past two squeezes and two more rabbit holes later you once again find yourself in good-sized passage. I tried leading Ray's Reach, an incredibly exposed climb, but found myself with no protection and 2 moves away from either safety or a nasty fall. On another day I would probably have gone for it. The climb leads to the Naked Lady Series, which will have to wait until next time. We then continued along to Summer Heights to snap some photos before heading back. This cave has serious potential and I think needs to be pushed harder.

Golf Course May 30

noreply@blogger.com (Nicolas Barth) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 09:44:00 +0000

Today I went through a fun cave called Golf Course, so named for the chain of deep, overhung potholes requiring delicate maneuvers to avoid falling in. The cave is located in an impressive karst field with deep dolines (sinkholes) separated by high ridges. We took a wrong turn at some point and found ourselves closer to the exit than the entrance and so went through the cave in reverse. After exploring a few caves and holes that were not Golf Course, we eventually found it. The upper section is a tall, narrow stream passage with a distinctive potholed floor. The stream is then abandoned for a dry upper level knee crawl that goes down two rifts via 5m cable ladders. Yet another rift passage leads you to the complex, multi-storied lower entrance. A 6m chimney climb brings you back into the daylight. The streamway was the definite highlight- features were always where they needed to be to allow a bit of creativity to keep you dry. In the middle of one of the largest potholes was a bedrock pillar that acted as a perfect stepping stone to traverse what would otherwise be an inevitable swim.

Photos by Chucky.

Half the trip is finding the cave!