'How often do you get over a week of good weather and low avo hazard in the Darrans?' Exclaims Terra Dumont as we crunch back to Homer Hut.

The 2009 Darrans Meet couldn't have been more different to the 2008 meet, when a metre of snow had dumped as the meet was scheduled to begin. Eight people showed up and we had spent the meet battling up the Gertrude and surrounds in waist-deep snow and chatting around the fire – eating, drinking and solving the problems of the world.

Glenn and I arrive at Homer Hut toward the end of this year's meet, having just endured the joys of moving house. As we turn into the Gertrude on a starry evening, I am expecting to find a cold, empty hut and perhaps an entry or two in the hut book from the old faithfuls who attended the previous meet. Then I spot the cars parked in the gravel pit. Knowing how tight the parking right outside Homer is, I figure this indicates that all available spaces have already been taken. I begin to feel excited.

Walking into the main room is like walking into a sauna. The heat from a roaring fire and the bodies of dozens of climbers sees me hurriedly unzipping layers as I hug friends, shake hands with new ones, and listen to them rattle off their Darrans climbing achievements thus far. Later, I watch Allan Uren photograph the dozens of boots drying in front of the fire while listening to climbing teams discuss who is climbing which ice route tomorrow, and how much of a head start to give the other team.

This year's Darrans Meet was everything we could have hoped for – climbers of all ages, abilities and nationalities rubbing shoulders and enjoying a magical, under-used and world class climbing playground.

Miles Mason shares his impressions of the Darrans Meet with Mountainz. He had never been to Fiordland before the meet....

I recognise him by his relaxed Scottish brogue. 'You must be Alastair,' I correctly surmise, thereby meeting the first of the motley group of climbers I will be spending the next week with at Homer Hut.

The previous two days had passed as such: a hungover flight from Auckland to Queenstown, much wandering around the outdoor stores of Queenstown, a stay in a disgusting backpackers and an early bus ride with a load of tourists bound for the wonders of Milford Sound. The Gertrude Valley is the perfect antidote to hectic life in the city – huge, peaceful, beautiful and intimidating in a comforting manner. I don't know how this works – sometimes it just feels good having mountains looming over you.

That night, with a head full of new names and the effects of cheap cask wine, plans are formulated for the following day. Reports of a series of low-angled frozen waterfalls at the head of the valley (dubbed the Gertrude 'Ice Park') are enticing and when Ollie Clifton encourages me to join him there in the morning, how can I refuse?

Dom Bakker top ropes one of the more challenging lines in the Gertrude 'Ice Park'.

We wake at a civilised hour and trot up the valley, our boots crunching in the well worn trench through the blanketing snow. We arrive at the bottom of the first waterfall, which gently rises, bulging above us. We take our tools off our packs and my apprehension grows as I approach the ice. I have extremely limited ice climbing experience – having only top-roped one 15m route – but I feel I have the ability to climb this waterfall. We start on up and I feel better with every swing of my tools. Although the ice isn't the best quality, it's fairly low angled and I feel secure. I follow Ollie and we arrive at a slightly trickier section. Ollie traverses left across some unconsolidated snow and I move right up a thinner section. A couple of metres later and we arrive at the top, ready to continue up to Gertrude Saddle.

The next two waterfalls pass uneventfully and we soon arrive at the saddle proper. Gertrude Saddle drops off alarmingly into a huge cirque and it's possible to catch a glimpse of Milford Sound in the distance. While eating lunch, we realise that Barrier Knob is just a short snow plod away. Seeing how early in the day it is, we dump our technical gear and start up the broad ridge. A couple of hours steep wallowing and a bit of cramp from the old legs sees us on the summit. What a view! After some standard loitering, we plod down in time for dinner.

The next day there are bigger objectives lined up – an ascent of the imposing Mt. Talbot. From Homer Hut, Talbot's vast Psychopath Wall looms up from the valley floor and dominates the view. However, there is an easier route up Talbot, accessed from Black Lake just below the Gertrude Saddle. This route is mostly a snow plod, with some steeper steps to keep things interesting. We start up the 'staircase' lovingly created by Howie and Steph (thanks guys!) a few days prior. The first steep section is a 45-degree ice gully and we awkwardly don our crampons on the high-angle slope below it and dagger up 100m, the wind blowing spindrift onto us, our hands plunging into the freezing snow. At the top I let my hands endure the warming torture that is the hot aches. We then ascend a low-angle snowy ridge and head for a sheer-looking couloir, which leads to the summit.

The couloir on Talbot - a snowslope and tricky thin-ice section followed.

Reaching the neck of the couloir, we are faced with a 10m step of 80-degree ice and we eat our lunch while we pull out the rope and rack. I set about making an 'anchor' – the soft snow doesn’t seem as though it would hold much force in the event of a fall. Once set up, I notify 'On Belay!' and Ollie responds with a witty 'Wallowing!' He places an ice screw and starts up the step. Another piece of protection near the top and the difficulties are over. I wait while he sets up some form of anchor and then follow. Once I reach the base of the couloir, I feel happy that I am following and not leading, especially with my lack of ice-climbing experience. I easily second the pitch and lead on past Ollie, ensconced in his cosy bucket seat. After more soft-snow wallowing, I reach a short mixed step and gently teeter my way up, finding pick placements in between the rock. I manage to get an ice screw in, then another and before I know it, I've balanced my way onto the hard snow slope which leads to the summit ridge. Much to my displeasure, I hear the call from below – '5 metres!' F#*%. I find myself wishing I had a snowstake. I attempt to hammer the shaft of one of my tools into the slope but it won't go, the snow is too firm. I wind an ice screw in and equalise it with the pick of one of my tools, and chop a couple of steps for my feet; it’ll have to do. With a call of 'On Belay... kinda!' Ollie starts climbing. On his way past he congratulates me on my pitch and the quality of my belay, which I find confusing as the anchor seems like it wouldn’t be able to hold a falling 2-year-old. After not too much further ado, we reach the corniced summit ridge.

From here it’s a mere 50m to the summit proper, which by now is encased in clag. Not lingering, we continue over the summit and on down the ridge, piled with loose powder snow. I find the ridge traverse rather scary – it's exposed and the features are hidden by liberal snow drifts. More than once, we slowly ease ourselves down steeper sections – getting down on our bums for stability, moving just one limb at a time for security. There are some hairy moments where snow falls away to reveal a man-eating abyss but for the most part it’s enjoyable ridge travel as we make our way around pillars and across exposed traverses. We come to a snow gulley, which leads down to the Gertrude side of the ridge. This is exactly what we have been looking for and we easily romp down to the sunshine and easy terrain at the bottom. An afternoon tea break gives us a chance to relax after all the concentration then we continue down in a carefree manner – often cheekily referred to as a 'controlled descent'. A wonderfully fast and safe bumslide takes us 200m closer to Gertrude Saddle and more of the well-practised wallowing brings us the rest of the way. On our way back to the hut I remark, 'I don’t care where we go tomorrow, as long as it’s not Gertrude again'.

Ollie Clifton traversing off Mt Talbot.

That night after several rounds of negotiation, we gain ourselves a place on the in-condition ice climb Gomer (III 3). There have been two teams on this climb every day of the meet – it's one of the few climbs around with enough ice on it and so it has been getting the brunt of the traffic. A four-pitch climb, it takes a direct line next to a huge overhanging wall on featured and generally quality ice (although water was still running underneath). We’ve been eyeing it up since the start of the meet so it’s high time we actually had a go at the thing.

We arrive at the base of the climb after a quick walk up SH94 from Homer Hut. I get my first look at Homer Tunnel as we turn off the road onto the boot trail into McPherson Cirque and pick our way through the snow-covered talus field. Terra and Ben from Vic Uni are already on pitch 1 when we arrive and while they pick their way up, we get ourselves organised for the day ahead. We decide to take just one bag so that the leader can climb unrestricted. After some sitting around chatting, pitch 1 is free and we solo up a short way to a suitable belay possie. Ollie leads up pitch 1, climbing with confidence and ease, gaining good purchase with his antiquated but excellent bamboo-handled Chouinard axe. With the short vertical step disposed of, a laid-back ramp of ice leads up to the belay. The belay station is under an overhang and Ollie squeezes past Terra, who is belaying Ben on pitch 2, to set up the anchor. Once this is done, I dismantle the anchor I am attached to and begin seconding the route, winding out ice screws as I meet them. The vertical section requires a tricky high step to overcome it but it’s easy to find purchase on the featured ice. I discover that there are a multitude of icicles and pools along the right-hand side of the ramp, which are great for hooking on and so saving energy.

Ollie sets off on the first pitch of 'Gomer'.

I clip into the belay and hand the rack over to Ollie, who then traverses out to the right and speedily leads pitch 2, which turns out to be straightforward. As he climbs, I am distracted by the beauty of the bulge of ice I am attached to. About a foot thick, it is perfectly clear through to the rock beneath – I can even see the tips of the 22cm screws that make up the belay! Peering out to see how Ollie is progressing, a chunk of ice whistles past my head and I quickly retract under the overhang. Soon enough I follow up the ramp, the angle gradually decreasing until I dagger onto a small snowfield halfway up the climb. We eat a leisurely lunch and admire the view. Terra is leading pitch 3 above and it doesn’t look as hard as the previous sections so we decide that I’ll lead this one. Once Ben is almost at the belay I start leading up, feeling good – my first water ice lead! Screws go in without too much difficulty and I feel happy standing on my frontpoints. There are some really cool hooks and bridges which I stand on with the middle of my foot to relieve the pump. After fiddling around trying to find some suitable ice for a belay, I start bringing Ollie up – first lead completed! The last pitch passes by, despite some soft snow covering the ice.

The good thing about doing routes after other people is that they leave helpful things behind such as nice double abalakovs for abseiling off, or staircases of nicely compacted snow to walk up. After the series of abseils, we arrive at the bottom of the route just as the light is fading and enjoy the walk back to Homer Hut, with an amazing show of stars above us to light the way.

After three days of going hard, we're starting to feel a bit lazy. Our plan for Friday is to climb Mt McPherson via Talbot's ladder and we start the day with every intention of doing so. Once we arrive at Homer Saddle, the sun is already disappearing behind McPherson and we both feel cold in the wind, which is funnelled over the saddle by the surrounding mountains. We head down, arriving at the hut at 3pm for cup-after-cup of tea with biscuits. We drive down to the river to collect water, enjoying the magnificent scenery cast into sharp relief by the setting sun. Hilarity ensues as we attempt to keep all the water inside the containers on the drive back.

Thanks to Alastair for organising the meet, and to Ollie, Glenn, Cesca, Aussie Ant, the Aussie Petes, Ron, Jamie and everyone else at the meet!

The map shows Miles' and Ollie's route up Barrier Knob, their approximate line of ascent and descent on Mt Talbot, the approximate location of 'Gomer' in the McPherson Cirque, and the walking route to Homer Saddle.

Neil Hay, Mark Yeo and Stefan OImiolczyk were so full of beans at the Darrans Meet, some of us never even saw them. Neil reflects on the routes they tackled....

A week of good days in the Darrans! We climbed something on seven out of nine days and got three longer routes done and a lot of sightseeing, looking at routes that would be good in different conditions.

The Barrier Face

Feels a bit like an arena this one, it's possible to sit outside the hut and look right up the route. The face route involves lots of great moderate climbing at around 60-degrees with some short steps up to 80-degrees. Mark, Stefan and I climb unroped, the thin ice would have been difficult to protect and it'd be a really long route to pitch anyhow. Gotta get home in time for tea! The difficulty of the climbing is pretty consistent so we keep on going up and up and come out right on the summit. Higher up, sections of steeper snow ice are separated by snow plugging. The lower part of the route goes up an avalanche path with a large catchment area from the snowfields above – it would be an ugly place to be on the wrong day. The descent along the ridge toward Barrier Knob is straightforward.

Barrier Peak lies at the head of the Gertrude Valley, with the Barrier Face prominent.

JC Crack, Mt Talbot summit pyramid

Stefan and I climb five 50m pitches following a prominent crack line, finishing near the top of the East Ridge. The upper pitches have some rock gear, which is great given the early season conditions. The exposure above Talbot's snow slopes and the Hollyford Valley is fantastic. The first pitch is pretty wide open then the next pitches are tucked in a gully ending halfway up the final pitch. Lots of fun, good climbing and protected belays all the way up.

I do my bit to reduce weight on this trip by dropping my GPS into the schrund from the second pitch. I was shifting about at the belay and didn't realise my pocket was open. The next thing I saw was a yellow flash falling through 100 feet of space before whacking one rock, then another, then whistling off. Bugger!

The descent over the top of Talbot gives a stellar view of mountains in every direction. It's a great place to watch the sunset. We come down in the dark, some others had climbed Talbot earlier in the week so we had some tracks to follow. Otherwise, it looks like some care would be required when figuring out where best to drop off the ridge to get down to Gertrude Saddle.

Coumshingaun, McPherson Cirque

Stefan and I are pretty keen to do this without roping up so we take only a few pieces of pro. When we get to the crux, we find a steep chimney/corner with no ice, just a bit of turf at the top. Good on Dom Bakker, Pete Webster and those who got up there earlier in the week. We choose the powdery out-and-back on the left, which makes for some interesting climbing and a lot of digging to find one piece of pro in 50m. I now carry several curses from Stefan for taking so long! It's less strenuous climbing out there but maybe not much easier overall. Enjoyable climbing all the way on this one.

The western side of McPherson Cirque. 'Coumshingaun' is the prominent gulley on the left, and tops out above Talbot's Ladder.

We also climb a pitch on the bluffs at the back of lower Cirque Creek. There are a few good one- or two-pitch climbs along these bluffs and a straightforward descent gully at climber’s right if an abseil proves awkward. It’s a longer walk than McPherson Cirque but has some great sightseeing along the way – routes like Cul de Sac, White as a Sheet, Squealing, and the view of the upper cirque wonderland. In addition, the creek by the road is dry so we don’t have to start and end the day with cold wet feet! Ron, Stuart and Wayne climb a mixed pitch while Stefan, James and I pick an ice line. The others get down first while we bugger around trying to find ice deep enough for a v-thread.

We make a second trip to Cirque Creek, beginning at 2am so we are in the upper cirque at sunrise – a very cool place to be. The routes up there have nothing on the top pitches – we find out later that the first ascent of Hotel Caribbean was done in November! It all needs a bit more ice. We climb a pitch and rap off. The walk back along the road from Cirque Creek to Homer Hut gives a great view of the east face of Talbot.

The more time I spend around the Darrans, the more I realise how much there is to do – from roadside ice to multi-day fun, bring it on! It was awesome to see so much going on for the week, thanks to everyone for all the energy and especially to Al Walker for organising the meet and the sunshine. I've heard it's not sunny every day.....