Welshman Stefan 'no one can pronounce my last name' Imiolczyk is currently enjoying a working holiday in New Zealand. Stefan muses on his adventures at the recent Darrans Meet and which climbs didn't interfere with tea time....

The Barrier Face has some pretty steep sections on rather thin ice, with sections of swimming up deep loose snow. We soloed it but I reckon you could pitch it if you had 20 bulldogs – 5 for each belay and 10 for protecting each pitch!

The route tops out right at the summit, which offers good views. The descent isn't nasty; you just walk along the ridge to Gertrude Saddle. It just takes a long time. Saying that, we were still back in time for tea!

Neil Hay looking up 'Heart of Gold' in upper Cirque Creek.

A few days later, we headed for Heart of Gold in the upper Cirque Creek. We left Homer at 2am and it took us 5 hours to walk in and climb the access gully to the upper cirque and the base of the route. Then the fun began.

Neil tried a very mixed-looking section to start. After an hour, he was still stuck 5 metres above me. I kept shifting sideways to avoid having his crampons stab me in the head if he came off. Suddenly, I heard a girl scream.

'Arrgh, I'm FAAALLLEEEEEINNG!!!!'

Oh no, it was Neil! He threw a glove at me, which I caught. Then...he didn't even fall off. Lame. After convincing him to downclimb and not to jump off, he managed to get back to the belay and sent me up what looked like an indirect pitch of nice ice. Alas, it was merely 'nice' for the first four metres, then it turned into that unconsolidated snow stuff again. Another hour and a half passed before I got a belay. Neil went up a bit further to find something better to abseil off.

The abseil itself was surprisingly uneventful, once I'd dragged the ropes in line with the anchors and realised I wasn't actually plummeting to my doom. Still, 7 hours to climb 55m is pretty lame. Managed to get back in time for tea again though.

Neil not ready to give up on 'Heart of Gold'....

Neil had convinced me that trying to climb the JC Crack on the summit pyramid of Talbot was a good idea, and it looked it. Max Gough, under the influence of Scotch and a desire to climb it himself, had refused to tell me anything about it and tried to get us to climb the East Ridge instead, but off we went. Another early start saw us at the bottom of the route just after light o' clock.

The first pitch was slightly like all the others – vertical unconsolidated snow and the only belay I could find was a single pink tricam in a loose block. At least it was frozen in place. We kept going up. Neil called to me from the second belay.

'Remember that GPS I used to have?'

'Used to...?'

I looked down into the 'schrund.

'Ah, used to have,' I said.

Neil had thrown one of my ice screws away too but luckily I could reach that.

I climbed the final pitch and managed to get my hands into the wrong tool leashes and got myself stuck for a good few minutes at one point. The guidebook's description of the pitch as 'airy' is quite right – you can't hide from the wind up there! Unfortunately, we missed teatime – we even missed supper – following a how-not-to-climb incident too embarrassing to mention.

After a rest day, we headed for Coumshingaun. We planned on soloing most of it as we didn't want to take very long. We found a peg that people must have retreated off below the crux and decided we'd quite like a rope.

Neil at the top of Talbot's Ladder. Mt Christina is sunlit in the distance.

During Neil's 2-hour lead up thin ice and snow covered rock and gravel, I got rather cold and started talking to the aforementioned piton I was planning on stealing.

'I'm sorry for taking you out and trying to steal you and having to hammer you back in! Don't let us die! I'll leave you here if we can live, we'll lower off you! Please Mr Piton, don't be cruel!'

A chunk of ice landing on my head brought me back to my normal thinking, and I realised it was time to climb up. We made it to the top of Talbot's Ladder in the early afternoon. Another how-not-to-climb moment while abseiling and some scrambling saw us at the bottom in time for afternoon tea. Very important, that.