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Published: February 20th 2007
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As I stepped onto the metal bird, the
whoop, whoop, whoop of passing rotor blades above my head, I clearly heard an analogy once relayed by my friend Craig Reed, a commercial airline pilot: “If the engines go out on my plane at least I have a fighting change to bring’er down, if the engines go out on a helicopter it drops like a brick from the sky.”
I have been wary of helicopters since that afternoon seven years ago but today somehow mustered the courage to take the seven minute flight to the top of Fox Glacier - a decision I would never regret.
Gina and I spent yesterday driving down the West Coast of New Zealand’s South Island, stopping for a brief hike to the base of Franz Josef Glacier 20 minutes South of Fox. Coming to the end of a trail overlooking the river basin carved by the Franz Josef Glacier hundreds of years ago, I was quite delighted when Gina didn’t hesitate climbing over the small barrier which sported warnings not to pass without a trained guide. For the next half hour, we hiked over oddly shaped boulders and traversed a few glacial streams until
coming within a few hundred meters of the glacier - a swift moving river obstructing our goal. The experience at Franz Josef only whet our appetite further for what we knew was coming today.
While staying in Fiji we had met a South African couple who had been to New Zealand prior and they advised us to book a glacier tour well in advance as they couldn’t secure a reservation ad hoc. Heeding their advice, Gina and I perused the Fox Glacier Guides website and examined the details of the ½ day, full day and heli-hike tours until deciding that we’d likely only hike a glacier once in our lives and best see the Full Monty. The heli-hike it was.
Sitting on the rear bench of the helicopter with three other tourists, Gina planted firmly next to the pilot on the front bench, I could only hold my breath as we slowly retreated from the Earth. The pilot yawed away from the landing sight and took aim at the top of Fox Glacier. My apprehension quickly faded as a field of blue hued seracs encompassed my window. The sheer magnitude and beauty of the ice was incomprehensible and
all consuming.
The pilot pitched the helicopter towards a glacier-fed waterfall and circled a few rock formations before planting us squarely onto a hastily constructed landing site in the middle of the ice field. We were on the second of four helicopters for the morning tour and noticed a bunch of people crouching near the landing site as we descended. Only as we waited for the third helicopter to arrive did it dawn on us that everyone crouched and covered their exposed skin to avoid being cut by flying shards of ice whipped up by the helicopter’s rotors. I think at one point, Gina yelled, “Oww, my ass” as she was pelted from behind by airborne ice.
Once the complete tour group had been transported topside, we were instructed on the use of crampons (metal spikes affixed to the bottom of ones boots to assist in walking on ice) and divided into two smaller groups of 12. Our guide, Tamra, began by asking the group how thick they thought the glacier was. I offered up 40 meters, another person said 100 meters and a third guessed 300 meters. We were all wrong. The Fox Glacier, one of the
lucky 10% of the World’s advancing glaciers, is 150 meters (approximately 500 feet) thick. She elaborated further by telling us the néve (the depressed pool at the top of the glacier) receives 45 meters of snow on average. This snow melts, is compressed until assimilating with the larger mass of ice and begins advancing downhill. The glacier moves about 1 meter (3.3 feet) per day on average with the top moving closer to 4 meters per day and the bottom about 50 centimeters per day. The variation in speed wreaks havoc in the ice field as the faster moving top collides with the slower moving bottom, creating seracs (raised mounds) - many of which we’d explore during our four hour hike.
Having concluded her lesson on the glacier, Tamra set off in an uphill direction telling us that today’s adventure had no set itinerary. Our group snaked slowly behind her as she used her ice pick to form crude steps we’d leverage in our advance. Moments later we arrived at our first ice cave. Since the glacier is continuously melting, streams of water flow over the ice field undermining any blemish in the glacier’s surface. As a result, these
streams often penetrate into the seracs (mounds) and over time hollow-out caves. The group took turns examining and documenting the bluish ice until someone asked if we could lay in it for photos. After a quick inspection, Tamra indicated we’d be fine; albeit wet from the melting ceiling.
Satisfied with our photographic proof, the group trudged on taking time to stop and examine pools, crevasses and caves carved from the several hundred years-old ice. We were informed that while the glacier has existed for several thousands of years, the ice itself has a lifespan of only several hundred years from the time it is deposited as snow at the néve until reaching its demise at the glacier’s foot.
Our hike concluded with the
Mother of All Caves, as Tamra termed the feature. The photos and experience from our morning on Fox Glacier were simply unbelievable.
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darby
non-member comment
what are the picks for?
you get community service after the mustard incident and have to pick up trash in a NZ state park all day?