Transcending Borders With Seeds in Our Hands

I arrived in Franz Josef to climb the glacier just like all the other people who were in town. The snow-capped mountains loom above the town with the glacier hidden in the mountain valley. I got up early to get a latte and a big breakfast before my full-day glacier climb. When I had gotten all my gear and had my ice spikes in hand I boarded the bus with all my fellow Kiwi Experiencers and we were dropped off at the base of the glacier. We actually had to walk for about an hour to get to the glacier, crossing rivers and jumping from boulder to boulder as we went. The distance between the drop-off point and the glacier is an optical illusion: the glacier was 2-3 km away although it looked as though I could walk to it in 20 minutes. The height of the glacier is also an illusion. It is 12 km long and it is really high.

We were divided into four groups, with the first two teams being for the fit and active people who would go ahead of the others and cut steps into the ice as they went, and the second two teams being for the ones who wanted to take it a bit slower. I went with group two, so it wasn’t the fastest group but fast enough to keep things interesting. We were taught how to do the Franz Josef Shuffle, which was like doing a grapevine down stairs; you had to go down the freshly-cut ice steps with your one foot going behind the other to reach the next step. I marveled at the blue color of the ice where the water had flowed through the outer white layer and formed a crevasse or drainage hole. We continued up the glacier, stopping to take pictures occasionally, and reached a place to eat lunch about 3 hours into the hike. I had the Swedish girl take a photo of me, ice ax in hand, in front of an ice cave (you can check the Facebook photo).

We reached the point where we were to head back down but then the guides saw that there was a long crevasse that we could pass through. We sat down and waited as they went up above the crevasse and knocked piece of ice into it to fill it enough for us to walk through. Our guide asked, “Is anyone claustrophobic?” followed by, “you will be after this.” The first few people went into the crevasse and I entered the first part and waited for the line to move. But we waited and waited, shouting “hurry up,” because the ice was melting and running like waterfalls right onto our heads. Finally a few people made it out and I started to inch along as the walls got closer and closer. I got to the middle of the crevasse and figured out what had been holding everyone up. The path had too much ice packed up in one part so you had to lift your non-dominant foot to climb up and out of the crevasse (because there was only room for the width of one foot in the crevasse). I went to step up but I couldn’t get enough momentum to pull myself up and there was no place for my hand to grab hold. I went to step up and tripped, falling awkwardly (as anyone would in a crevasse that is a foot wide) and cutting my knee on the ice wall which acted as a cheese grater. I yelled in pain and had to back up toward the start of the crevasse so that I could alter my footing. I turned my right foot around and was able to make it out of the crevasse.

I looked down at my knee and there was blood all over it and a big swelling knob right next to the kneecap. I showed one of the guides and I cleaned it with some of the glacial water and put some ice on it. Come to think of it, that was the perfect place to get injured; plenty of clean ice and water! The only downside (no pun intended) was that I had to climb all the way back down with a sore knee. I made it down alright and the climb down seemed much shorter than the ascent. I got back to the hostel and I was super tired. I managed to walk to the grocery store to buy some stuff for dinner. I bought a big porterhouse steak for 10 bucks and a bag of instant microwaveable rice. I cooked everything and sat down to eat it in front of the T.V. Just as I was zoning out a Korean girl sat down in the lounge near me and out of the blue asked me, “Where are you from?”. Thus is the life of a traveler, I thought.

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