FRANZ JOSEF GLACIER HIKING

Franz Josef village - one shop, one garage and one big glacier. Glacier Ka Roimata o Hine Hukatere or Tears of the Avalanche Girl gets its name from the Maori legend of the girl who loved to walk in the mountains and whose lover fell to his death from a high peak. The glacier was formed from her frozen flood of tears. It is 11km long and is only one of three glaciers in the world that descends into rainforest. They get up to 8 metres of rain here every year and this falls as snow in the neve (the vast snow-collecting basin at the head of the glacier) which is quickly compressed into new ice by subsequent snowfall. It takes about 5 years for the glacier to travel from neve to the terminal face.

It was on this great big ice cube that we had chosen to spend a day glacier hiking. Those of you that have witnessed my past hapless attempts at skiing, skating, rollerblading or anything that does not involve two firm footholds will be amazed that I even contemplated such a potentially disastrous and slippery activity but it was something that I really wanted to have a go at.

So at 8.00am, along with another few dozen would be Hillary's and Tensing's, we reported in for the big one - the Full Day Glacier Adventure. Some looked really excited and rearing to go whilst others stood quietly by the side of excited partners, no doubt contemplating their fate, just like me. Before being kitted out we were shown a binder full of photos of the likely terrain we would encounter on the hike and sign a disclaimer. The first few pages showed photos of huge rocks with chain ladders and ropes hanging off them and this was only the bush trek to the face of the glacier! Photos followed of faces peering up from crevasses and people halfway up (or it could have been down, I've no idea which) a near vertical icy wall and other scary images. I took a deep breath and signed ...

First came the extremely flattering overtrousers, then the thick woolly socks and clumpy boots which were matched up with a pair of ice spikes called Talonz which we would carry to the glacier in a bum-bag (or if you had your own personal sherpa like I did, he would carry them for you). Then came the windproof jacket worn over four thin layers, all topped off with a beanie hat and mittens that were so big I could fit my whole hand into the thumb-hole! Before we got on the bus we were divided into two groups. People who had ice-hiked before and the more confident were asked to move to the other side of the room. Marc turned to look at me and I remained rooted to the spot ...

After negotiating the rocks and chain-ladders (they didn't show the icy water dripping from above in the photos), an hour later we arrived at the face of the glacier and were shown how to firmly fix our spikes onto our boots and how to tuck in the long ends of the straps so they wouldn't get tangled in the spikes. We also got our first instruction on how to walk on ice. Going uphill - drive the toes in first and going downhill - dig the heels in first. Walk with legs slightly apart to stop the spikes catching. One foot to any one step cut into the ice, again to stop spike snagging but most of all "trust your spikes and walk normally and confidently" - yeah right.

The group was split again into two groups of twelve, and after a short climb up loose rock, we were on the ice - my feet being driven in so hard that my toes were in danger of being forced out through the front of my socks! The first part of the climb was up ice-steps that had been pre-cut earlier that morning. Guides are on the glacier from dawn every day cutting new steps as those of the day before will have melted away overnight. They also look for new ice caves and other features that have appeared since the previous day. Half an hour later and I was still on my feet when we reached the Point of No Return. This is the last point that any individual can turn back, no strings attached. Any further and you would need to pay to get yourself airlifted off the ice in a helicopter. Josh, our leader, radioed back to base to say that he'd reached No Return and all was well, everyone appearing to be sufficiently confident to carry on. Can't appearances be deceptive!

The glacier has a surface temperature of 3 degrees which means that it is wet to the touch and the mittens soon got soggy and were wrung out and put away but they weren't really needed as the adrenaline coursing through my veins coupled with a thumping heart meant that my hands and feet were like toast.

The terrain soon changed and the wind picked up and got a lot colder as we started to traverse 'The Waves'. We climbed up the sides of big 'waves' in the ice with the help of ropes fixed into the glacier with ice-screws and sometimes up small steps that Josh would cut out as we went along if the slope was too steep to just walk up. Sometimes these shallow ledges would be far apart and getting a foot fixed securely on the next step and hauling yourself up without a handgrip, keeping your body close to the wall was quite a challenge. Coming down steep slopes, we learned a technique called the Franz Shuffle - side on to the drop, the top leg passing behind the other down onto the next step to avoid snagging the spikes. We walked down into crevasses 'crab style', toe of each foot driven into opposite walls then we'd crunch our way along the bottom which would be packed with loose-ice then climb out using the same elegant style.

We stopped at noon for a picnic - all sat on our bum-bags, heels dug in to stop us sliding away, coats zipped up to the hilt and hats pulled down against the biting wind, but wow, what a view. Massive pinnacles of white and blue ice glistening in the sun above us, an emerald rainforest below and waterfalls tumbling down the sides of the valley on either side.

On we went - more waves and crevasses, some of which led to breathtaking ice-caves of very dense sparkling blue ice that seemed to be illuminated from within. This was the stuff of promo posters. Whilst these caves were some of the most amazing and beautiful places that I've ever been in, I wasn't too keen to hang around too long in some of the more confined ones. There was a protocol that on the way through the cave, you would give your camera to the person in front of you, who would turn around (not as easy as it sounds) and take your picture. I think I managed not to cut off any heads in my haste to get out the other end!

Such was my determination not to fall and return intact that every single step I took throughout the day was calculated and kicked into the ice, so four and a half hours of intense concentration later, I was quite happy to hear Josh say that we'd reached our high point and would be starting our descent. He had led us about 2km up the glacier in all, picking his route as he went, having to change course or backtrack if he thought there was too much risk involved. We crossed towards the side of the glacier where the ice-forms were not so severe but there were still plenty of waves and walls to be negotiated. Finally we reached the Point of No Return and I was so glad to see the first steps we'd climbed early that morning that I could have done a sprint finish. Off came the spikes for the return trek through the bush and those rocks which didn't seem so bad this time round. It wasn't until I slumped into my seat on the bus that I realised that I was totally spent and just wanted to stand under a hot shower for a week.

And so we'd made it, without a slip or a slide, and for me a huge buzz and sense of achievement. I don't think I'll be doing it again in a hurry, but now I can join in one conversation at least and know what I'm talking about ...

p.s. two days later and my legs were so stiff that I couldn't complete the simple action of sitting down in a chair. I'd inch down so far, stop, then sort of fall backwards into the seat, half laughing, half groaning. An acute case of Franz Thigh.