Helicopter and Glacier Hike!

This is what TJ and her sister are doing today (their 28th). Tj just called before leaving and said she is super-excited!

Fox Glacier Helihike

And excited was an appropriate emotion for this adventure! We were shuttled to the heli-pad site where we were fitted with several extra pairs of wool socks and hobnail boots. Then we were instructed on how to safely enter into, ride in, and exit a helicopter. For example, you can't have any loose clothing, bags, etc., everything must be secured so nothing gets sucked up into the rotor, and of course, you stay low. This is inevitable, as one would have to be some kind of nutter to want to stand upright beneath a horrendously loud, fatally whirring set of metal blades.


Helicopter departing from Fox Glacier 

Our guides loaded us into the helicopter, evenly distributing our weight - I got to sit in the front seat! Unfortunately, Melanie had to sit behind me, so we couldn't hold hands to assauge our nervousness of flying in small, nay tiny, aircraft (you're not allowed to reach backwards, or forwards, as you may accidentally hit one of the helicopters controls or obscure the pilot's vision and this might give you and the pilot a more exciting ride than you'd bargained for).


One of our views getting up-close-and-personal with the glacier.  

We put on our headsets, but still heard the whine of the rotors as the helicopter geared up for flight! Then we were in the air and rising quickly, swooping over the rainforest and blue-white glacial melt rivers. We flew over the terminus (end of the glacier) and up towards the ice fall. We banked - this was better than a roller coaster ride! I was grinning widely, elated by the thrilling flight - I looked back to smile at Melanie, to share this exciting event, only to observe her with her head between her knees performing yoga breathing. Of course, since I had been a bit anxious, too, this image sent me into near hysterical laughter. Not wanting my nervous laughter to be misinterpreted as callous derision, I tried to suppress it - this does not work with hysterical laughter, but I think the rotors drowned me out.


A close-up as we flew over the ice fall. This is just like what it sounds: A "waterfall," only frozen - still moving pretty darn quick though. You can't hike on this part as it's much too dangerous.  

We landed safely on the glacier's (pronounced "glass-ee-ah) "heli-pad," i.e., a circle of rocks on a relatively flat patch of ice. The heli-pad's location changes every week due to the flow of the glacier. We crept slowly away from the helicopter - I felt like I was wearing banana peels instead of hobnail boots, and I'm sure there is no way I can hike around on this glacier without sliding back down to town.

As soon as we're clear of the heli-pad, we assume "crash" position: Squatting down, heads as far between our legs as possible, arms covering our heads, eyes shut. Melanie is much better at this than I, and is prepared for it due to her yoga breathing. So Melanie's having a yoga lesson and I'm in Ice Capades. Everyone assumes the crash position to protect themselves from ice chips flying at high speeds due to the fierce gusts created by the helicopter. I just wished I'd brought some Sno-Cone syrup and a cup. As the helicopter turned into a red dot the size of a ladybug, I thought, "Please don't let an earthquake happen now." Actually, I thought that a LOT in New Zealand.

Once the helicopter had gone, our guide passed out crampons (I know it sounds like a cross between cramps and a tampon, but they're actually steel spikes you strap onto your boots to help give you purchase on the ice) and walking sticks. The walking sticks also had a metal spike on the bottom, but they were so dull they didn't really work. On the plus side, no one went home with a perforated foot.

It's a curious business walking with crampons: You actually have to stomp around. The ice is so hard that if you don't stomp, you're crampons won't "bite" in hard enough to help you, and it feels a bit like walking on stilts since the crampons project out an inch or two from the bottom middle of your boots.


Looking back through one of the ice caves.  

So we stomped around the glacier, checking out ice caves and arches, mini crevasses, and even a waterfall. Needless to say, our heli-hike was awesome.


Here we are in front of one of the smaller ice caves. It was actually too warm to wriggle through it (Thank, God - does that look large enough to crawl into to you?!), we would've gotten absolutely soaking wet from the ice melt.