Okay, this is pretty rad. We stayed at a friend of a friend’s house in Wanaka for about a week, and part way through our visit, Ben decided to let us in on a little secret.

Way up on a hill above a river he’d discovered a huge crag that he was trying to develop. The Wanaka Rock Climbing Club has a battery-powered rotary hammer drill that anyone can borrow, so he’d been going up there bolting new sport climbs. One day while he was walking around and scoping his new crag, he found a giant hole in the ground — a hole 100 feet deep, 15 feet wide and maybe 40 feet long. The dimensions at the top of it are the same as the dimensions at the bottom, and the walls are completely sheer. It probably was formed by a giant earthquake. It’s a crazy fractured chasm; one side is completely overhung and the other is a blank slab. In the middle is a sharp, aesthetic arete that looks completely unclimbable from above.

So Ben took us to this hole and we were astounded. We stared awestruck at the arete wondering if it would go. We figured it was possible, but damn hard. Maybe 5.14 or so. There didn’t seem to be any holds, but we had to take a closer look. Since we couldn’t figure out how to get to the bottom of pit, we installed a rappel anchor on the side of it and threw a rope down, eyeballing and cleaning an easy line adjacent to the arete. Since the hole is so deep, steep and narrow, we actually couldn’t even see the bottom. I rapped in first and wondered if I was the first human ever to set foot down there. As I descended, I encountered walls carpeted with mosses, ferns, lichens and molds. It was nuts. The bottom was dank, wet and really green, and it was blanketed in a 2-foot-deep layer of peat. Waaaaaaaayyy cool. I eyeballed that arete, and to my surprise there actually were holds. Maybe that line could go. Maybe. But I still figured it would be at least 5.13. Hmm.

Next we put a few bolts on the top of the arete and rappelled down that with hammers and a brush. We scrubbed off lichens on the key holds and broke all the chossy bits off. Each time a smacked off a jib or crimper, an unfortunate feeling in my stomach grew. This line is amazing, I kept thinking, but way too hard. Nevertheless, we decided to give it a go on toprope. And guess what?! It went! We played around on it for an hour, figuring out the moves and discovering the arete’s intricacies. It’s super technical, sustained, overhanging. Half way up the climber swings off the arete onto a thin, balancy face, and then then finishes again on the arete. I’ve only seen one arete as clean and sharp as this one in my life. The more we played on it, the more we realized it was climbable. So we bolted it and came back a week later with a bunch of friends for a first, second, third, fourth and fifth ascent.

Here’s the description, to be printed in the next edition of the Wanaka climbing guidebook:

Freeloader, 5.12b/c, 7 bolts. Hyper classic! Sustained climbing on a striking overhung arete to hard cranking on a subtle, crimpy face. Described by the third, fourth and fifth ascentionists as “the best route in Wanaka,” “the best sport climb in New Zealand,” and “the best, most sustained arete I’ve ever climbed anywhere.” Rap into a double bolt belay 30′ from the bottom of the hole, pull through a traverse and charge up the arete’s slopers and crimps, all the while teetering over the 100-foot-deep abyss. Equipped/First Ascent by Nathan Welton and Pierre Boissier, March 2007.

So named because we stayed at Ben’s house for way too long, borrowed someone else’s drill, and had to borrow shoes and chalk to make the first ascent. Shameless.

Sorry to brag about this thing. It’s just way too cool. I’m so psyched! Sometimes you get jazzed about a climb you’ve developed simply because it’s “your baby.” But this thing really is something else. I’ve never seen such a rock formation in my life.

Here are some images — that first one of me was shot by my buddy Pierre, who is in the second picture.

Ten days ago we backpacked into the Routeburn Track, a beautiful trail in the Remarkables mountain range. The Routeburn is considered the little brother of the Milford Track, and it’s where everyone winds up who can’t get a Milford Track reservation (which we scored last October). The route is a three-day hike over the Southern Alps, and it’s spectacular. We actually didn’t do the whole trip, but instead hiked in for a night to meet up with some friends who were on their way out. We brought them wine and chocolate and they cooked us a cheesecake… which I spilled wine all over. Back country living at its finest! We picked a good time to go, too: our friends had been trudging through shin-deep floodwater on the trail thanks to a huge storm that smacked into the South Island. But the day we walked in, the storm cleared. Niiiiiicce. While on the track we also took a 30-km day hike up through the Harris Saddle, which on a sunny day should have afforded us views all the way to the coast. Couldn’t see the sea, but we could see the Remarkables peeking through the clouds. Pretty, what’s the word… remarkable!

Check out some of the pictures — and pay attention to our awesome campsite! Tenting sure beats the huts along NZ’s great walks. The huts are nice in a rain storm, I guess, but they’re hot, muggy and filled with people who snore. I spent a few nights in the kitchens along the Milford Track to escape the nighttime noises.

Also of note are the pictures of the little bird on my shoe and legs. Since native birds have no endemic predators, they’re pretty much fearless. As I was taking a rest, this little dude hopped up onto the top of my shoe and then proceeded to cruise around on my leg. I think it wanted to steal the fibers from my socks for a nest, and it plucked away at me for about 10 minutes! Who knows how long travelers will have such an experience, though; introduced animals are decimating the country’s native bird species.

Great news! The results of the Wedding Photojournalist Association’s 2006 year-end contest are in, and I picked up a few awards for images in the scene setting, getting ready and first dance categories. Only a handful of photographers in Colorado have received awards from the WPJA, and the WPJA only accepts a small percentage of applicants in the first place, so it’s a huge honor. Here are the winning images… I think my favorite is the getting ready shot, but I also like the first dance shot a lot too.

Right now we’re in the town of Wanaka. Climbed yesterday and are weathering out a storm in the comfort of the van. Apparently the Milford Track is due for 200mm of rain today. Good thing we left when we did. Last night we watched a movie in the car on the laptop, and today we’re going to watch another one. Great way to travel! Here’s a nice shot of Lake Wanaka I took two nights ago. Really pretty place.

We were feeling lethargic — a little ill, perhaps, or maybe just beat from working an impossible climb the day before — so we all decided to have a rest day in and around Milford Sound. Here’s a picture of that impossible climb. It’s a ridiculous 5.12c that’s got a bolt every three feet until a 15′ runout to the chains — with the crux being the last move. Goofy. Since you can’t actually work the move without taking a 20- to 30-footer, we used a dead tree to stick clip the anchor to be on toprope. Oh yeah, did I mention that the route is the crag’s warm up?! There’s another 5.12 — a 5.12d — but you have to climb a 5.13c to get to it. At least the area’s picturesque. It’s called Babylon, and you climb on the side of a cliff covered with waterfalls.

Anyway, the sound was only accessible by boat or foot (via the Milford Track) until the 1950s or so, when the Homer Tunnel was blasted through a kilometer of granite. Perhaps the goofiest postcard I’ve ever seen was a picture of the inside of the tunnel lit by a car headlight — and it doesn’t look like much of a tunnel, either. More of a mine shaft. The roadway inside is half dirt and all potholes, and there’s a continual seepage of water through the top. Kinda sketchy, actually, but at least it heads into one of the most gorgeous sections of the country.

We cruised through the tunnel to this place called The Chasm, and some of us took a dip in the aqua water of the swimming hole there, and afterwards we headed into the sound to take some nice post-storm images of Mitre Peak. While we were out in the tidal zone, we spied a really cool hawk that was trying to pluck a dead bird out of the water for lunch, so we started snapping away. I think the bird got a little paranoid that we were going to steal its lunch, so it actually charged me. Check out this series from my friend Greg.

I was trying to focus on the bird and it just wasn’t working, so then I put my camera down and looked up and the bird was hovering in front of me an arm’s length away. I backed up a few steps and almost fell over, and then the bird charged Greg.

Here are some of my favorite shots from that day…

So here are some of those Milford Track pictures I promised…