Dream Lines on the Sky Piercer: Skiing in New Zealand.

** If your not so much of a reader then there is an image gallery of the whole trip at the bottom of the post. Please email if you want more details or to repost this article: davesearleguiding@gmail.com **


What a trip.

I’ve never really had (or made?) the chance to ski outside of the Alps. Having the privilege to have lived in Chamonix for the past 11 years has meant that 99% of my skiing has been around the area, apart from a few days in Scotland. Skiing close to home has its pros and cons. Pro: It’s quicker and easier to get to the ski hill so I can try to have a smaller carbon footprint. Con: I often end up skiing the same runs, meaning some of the classics have lost their magic and appeal. Pro: It’s very easy to get a lot of exposure in order to improve your skills in ski mountaineering/steep skiing/freeride skiing/backcountry skiing or whatever you want to call it. Quite simply, the terrain and access we have around Chamonix is some of the best in the world. Con: Because it’s one of the best, it’s busy and almost everything has already been skied at some point, which means there is little to no true adventure left to be had.

When Ross Hewitt casually mentioned to me in the bar one evening that he was booking a trip to ski in New Zealand in the late Autumn (or spring if you live down there) my interest was piqued. I’d wanted to take a trip back there for a while ever since I went for a family trip when I was 17 where we did the typical tourist itinerary: driving around in a campervan, sight-seeing, and bungee jumping. I remember being enchanted by the rugged landscapes and open spaces, vowing I’d come back at some point. I had no idea it would be skiing that brought me back. At that age though I had only done about three days of skiing in my life so it wasn’t yet on my radar. 

Fast forward 14 years to late September 2019 and I’m sat at my computer in rainy Chamonix after what was one of the most emotionally and physically exhausting summer seasons I’ve ever had. I’m about to pull the trigger on a £1200 flight that I can barely afford. Completing the IFMGA guides course this summer took its toll on me not only physically and psychologically but also on my bank balance.  ‘What the hell’ I thought. Click, game on!

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10 things I would tell my younger self.

Dave Searle Ski Touring
Ski Touring in the Valley Blanche

Looking back on the last 10 years of climbing and skiing I realise how much I’ve learnt and how much I’ve grown in that time.  Sometimes mentors are hard to come by and although I don’t claim to have all the answers I have made my fair share of mistakes for better or worse.  Here are 10 things I would’ve told my younger self 10 years ago, which I hope might help some younger wannabe mountain dudes and dudettes on the their mountain quests. Hopefully to do even better than I have with their mountain careers!

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Skiing the Marbree

The skiing is a bit boney at the moment.. We desperately need more snow in the alps but that being said its always worth going out and enjoying the good weather! Thanks to Ross Hewitt, Johnny Collinson and Griffin Post for a sweet day.

Skiing the Col De La Verte, (5.4, 700m)

(Col De l’Aiguille Verte Trip Report From Sunday 10th April 2016)
It’s fairly evident to those who live here that the mountains are getting busier and busier as time goes by.  The Argentiere Glacier has been, and always will be one of the stomping grounds for Extreme Skiers out looking for the perfect day on the steep north faces.  I wouldn’t really class myself as an Extreme Skier. Strapping it on for a 5.4 (Technical Ski Grade) is about the limit of what I would ever feel comfortable skiing and only once every blue moon at that.  I like the feeling of skiing steep powder for sure but the worry and stress associated with putting yourself in that situation is draining to say the least.
I digress. Oh yeah busy….. busy busy busy. Jostle, hustle push and shove. “got to get the first bin!” got to get there before its too late.  Exiting the first bin on a busy day such as yesterday (Sunday) and polling off into the basin, it’s hard to not feel smug.  We have the pick of all the amazing routes in their shinning spring condition.  But what if someone follows us?! I don’t want to race. I want to clip into my skis fresh without stress.  I don’t want anyone above me or below me.  I want this day to be ours.
When I spoke to Joel about skiing the Col De l’Aiguille Verte I could tell he was nervous.  He’s not been skiing that long (even less than my 7 seasons!) but he’s proved himself on a few bigger faces and is super keen.  I knew he’d be happy to bail at the first sniff of trouble which is an admirable quality some lack.
When we reached the bottom of the slope that heads up to the Col De l’Aiguille Verte things looked good and we quickly changed over and started up the short skin to the bottom of the face.  Over the bergshrund we ditched the rope, shovels and probes. We wouldn’t be needing the weight and reasoned an avalanche on a 53 degree slope would be unlikely or catastrophic.
On the climb up we passed a ski that was sticking out of the slope. We’d found a hat at the bottom too and scratched our heads as to what had happened and what to do.  We carried on and found an ice axe about 400m up too.  It later transpired someone had fallen (I still don’t know the circumstances) and had managed to “get away with a broken leg”. Lucky guy.

We kept a steady pace and about 2/3 of the way up were caught up by a friendly Frenchman, Boris Dufour who was on the 4th cable car.  He’d set a good pace to catch us and remained close for the rest of the climb to the Col and during the descent knowing that the danger would be sluff management (by sluff I mean loose snow which grows and gains power the further it goes). After taking some photo’s from the top we slowly and hesitantly started skiing. The first turns were tough with the deep crusty snow but soon things got better and we were able to make some more relaxed, but much steeper and more intimidating turns in the guts of the face.

We pitched it carefully staying out of harm’s way by tucking under rocks and sticking to spurs as others skied.  The snow was pouring down the face as you skied funneling into massive sluff trains that went all the way to the glacier, cascading off rocks on the way.
Hopping the shrund and heading back to the ski area it all sunk in and a feeling of accomplishment mixed with joy washed over us. A line I’ve always dreamed of with fantastic snow and excellent weather means it will be a day etched into my memory forever.  I’m glad to have shared it with Joel and Boris…… and only them.