Upskill for Winter
With the arrival of winter, I decided that it was time to brush up on my crampon skills, and learn how to use the ice axe I carried as something more than a short walking stick with some lethal spikey parts. So, a few weekends ago, I joined Outdoor Education NZ (OENZ) for their one-day alpine course.
Once everyone was sized up in crampons and kitted out, we started by fitting avalanche transceivers and went through a mini induction on how to use them. Sarah, from OENZ, casually said it was in case we had to dig our instructors out. What? Encouraging! That got me to focus.
We did a mock search finding transceivers buried in the snow and then packed snow shovels and probes into our packs, and we were off to learn the best way to walk in the snow – with and without crampons.
The basic rules of walking with an axe and the best way to step securely and keep yourself safe on steep terrain were covered as we puffed our way up Foggy Peak.
Once we’d gained enough height, we sidled on a contour to a snow slope still in the shade. A little cold, but the snow would be slippery vs slushy and perfect for the highlight of the course for me – self arrests – or how to hopefully stop what is euphemistically called a “slide for life” down a steep slope should you accidentally slip, trip or fall.
The first arrest technique we learnt was the plunge. Imagine turning a small trip into a jump aiming to sink your feet deep and dropping the point on the shaft of the axe deep into the snow. If your feet slide, you hang onto the axe and work your feet back up the slope until you can stand again. Easy as – if it works.
Next, we looked at what to do if you tripped and weren’t carrying an axe. The cure for this awkward situation is to summon your inner yogic superpowers. The ones that reside on the mat casually rolled up in a corner in the lounge. Imagine your yoga instructor asking you to do downward dog as you slide gracefully down the slope.
So: feet wide, hands under shoulders. Breathe out and push up sticking your bum high in the air with your head down looking between your legs – and hope for snow soft enough that the weight of your body on your feet and hands will help them dig into the snow and slow you down.
Students on the course practicing the downward dog self arrest position.
Apparently, the prospects are fairly grim if there is a lot of ice, but it is your best option so worth supplicating to the all-powerful deva of downward dog, and trying this repeatedly until it works; or not.
Then we covered self-arrests from a simulated slip and slide, progressing from the relatively easy fall of feet first on your tummy, to feet first on your back, to head first on your stomach, and then head first on your back.
The good news is the technique works. It’s a lot of fun to try but comes at the cost of bruise-badges that you can sport proudly for a week or so.
That said, I’ve only got a basic grasp of the head first on my back technique and will need to get some practice in before I forget how it is done, let alone feel proficient enough to save myself. Ah – what did I sign up for?
After that, we grabbed a late lunch on the run and got some crampon walking practice going uphill and then downhill back to the cars before a retreat to warmth and a well-earned cuppa.
If you’re keen to upskill for winter tramping or want to take your outdoor pursuit to the next level OENZ have a range of courses that could suit, along with patient instructors who build confidence and pass on their passion.
Sarah, from OENZ, demonstrates the plunge arrest
This article by Shaz was published in the July 2020 edition of The Oxford Observer.
