Snow To Beech: The remarkables to Wye Creek

The day started late for a mission. A proper spring Saturday, with a powder day only a few days before this. Coronet was popping off that Tuesday while the weekday workers could only shake their fists and grizzle about the weekday grind. However, Saturday, the 1st of November, proved to be a worthy contender for the weekday workers. A late start to let the sun soften the snow, some food prep (important), a quick stop at The Remarkables base building port-a-loo (very important), and the crew was off.

Angelina Stratton, Fuki Baker, & Oscar Pryor

We hadn’t even made it past the first section of Curvey before Oscar was unsure if his butt crack was sweating that much or whether the fart he’d let rip had gone terribly wrong. A quick strip down of the ski pants to beach shorts and we were off again. This mission was my graduation from snow shoes to a splitboard (shout out Thom from Snowboard Workshop) and boy was I thankful for it. Skinning was definitely faster— and risers?! Life savers for the calves. I also have a new appreciation for those who can kick turn flawlessly in steeper terrain. My first four kick turns were...of an acceptable shuffling technique... I didn’t fall with my legs splayed so I considered it a great success.

The saddle was gusting and freezing after the buckets of sweat lost on the skin up. Angelina and Oscar were incredibly fluid in stripping their skins and assembling what was needed for the drop in over the saddle. Meanwhile I was busy fumbling and cursing my fingers as they lost dexterity due to the wind chill. I managed to assemble my splitboard without it blowing away in the wind (a massive achievement I thought), and we dropped in, waving goodbye to our friend Ant as he watched us ride away into the expansive bowl on the other side of The Remarkables resort.

For myself, this was my first time out there. As the basin unfolded in front of me, the mountains, sky and snow looked as if it stretched on forever. The Minecraft map in my head was filling in. Riding down, the feeling was unreal, indescribable. You just had to be there. Seeing my two best friends lay first tracks in the basin, blue skis and this much snow coverage in November?! Primo conditions. Complete and utter stoke! As we slowed to review our position, there were no words, just big grins and giggly laughter. We had shared in something special.

We observed many small loose wet avalanches and cornice falls from the day before as we cruised along towards the end of the basin. There was amazing coverage and we were able to ride down most of the way as we got into some steeper, more technical terrain. Part of this included navigating an avalanche debris field (size 2, loose wet, West aspect) and avoiding sharks (normal New Zealand resort conditions). We stopped for lunch here and watched in wonder at the scale of the mountains, the ice falls beginning to melt and discussing what imaginary lines we would ride in the amazing terrain that surrounded us. Someday these lines will grow from imagination to reality. We discussed our idols in the industry, the missions they had achieved. And wondered at the idea that we, and people we know, are the next generation of ambitious snow industrialists.

We A-framed our split boards and skis, jammed the rest of our gear onto our small packs whichever way we could. The descent from the snow line began—cue Lord of the Rings music. First we were trudging through tussocky snow, soggy bog, jumping over little creeks. We saw many waterfalls, lofty 2000ers, lingering patches of snow. The creek was always running beside us, absolutely pristine in its clarity and sound. Many conversations were enjoyed, both scintillating and out of pocket. We marched on, only stopping a few times to admire a waterfall, have some snacks, and observe some Chamois that we had disturbed. Do not ask about the Wild Spaniards, we swear every one of those spiky plants in the Wye Valley was there to poke and stab us. If you know, you know.

As the kilometres disappeared from under out feet, we turned the corner and Cecil Peak sat in the distance, welcoming us into familiar territory. However, we still had another couple obstacles to face. Due to the late snowfall, rain and warmer temperatures, Wye Creek was up higher than usual and the crossing on the map was not viable. We turned back up the valley to search for a safe river crossing which proved challenging as the banks had been washed out a little on one side and many little rapids were creating white water. We did manage to find a suitable crossing, however, there was no path back to the track and scratchy scrub blocked our path to the Beech forest. Oscar ended up pushing his way through a field of Wild Spaniards (while the girls navigated a more appealing route above) and despite the ‘Holy shit this sucks’ We were happy with our decision of scratchy bush bashing > unsafe river crossing.

The final descent of the day through the Beech forest was enjoyable despite our bodies complaints. The late afternoon sun cast golden light through the leaves and created a pleasant atmosphere. It had its challenges for sure with the recent storms, there were a lot of trees downed over the track. Oscar, with his skis sitting both higher and lower than Angelina’s and I’s, was finding it a bit more challenging weaving in, out and over the trees. There was no rush in the fading light as we cruised to the bottom of Wye Creek, enjoying the evening. With clicking knees and big grins, our 16.04km mission with over 1600m vertical descent was complete. We were absolutely stoked, good shift from the crew.

Snow To Beech

Snow To Beech: The remarkables to Wye Creek

SHORT FILM: LATESTART