National Geographic Traveller (UK)
Exploring the frozen heart of the Alps
Franz Josef Glacier is the most accessible of the Southern Alps’ 3,000 glaciers, and a guided hike across its icy, crevasse-ridden surface offers a front-row seat to the sublime beauty of the region
The helicopter’s purr deepens to a roar as the rotors gain pace and lift us into the air. Looking out of the window, I can see our shadow shrink until we’re just a black fly speeding across farmlands, riverbeds and rainforests. Lush trees surrender to moraine and then the fissured surface of Franz Josef Glacier, which, from the air, looks like a tsunami frozen in time.
The pilot sets us down on its surface to disembark and then he’s gone again in a whirr, leaving us in awed silence. Painterly mountains with snowy crowns encircle us on all sides bar downhill, where the valley leads to the small township of Waiau we had just flown from. Beyond I can see the Tasman Sea winking up at us. Even though it’s a sunny day, the temperature is -6C and the cold radiating from the glacier bites my fingers.
New Zealand’s Southern Alps ripple 400 miles down the western flank of the South Island and has around
3,000 glaciers stuffed into its many folds. Most of them are inaccessible, except to the most serious mountaineers. But, unlike those other antisocial glaciers, Franz Josef is just 11 miles from the west coast and only 980 feet above sea level, making it one of the most accessible hiking glaciers on the planet.
Waiting for me at the top is senior mountaineering guide Phil Crossland, who’s been leading wide-eyed visitors across the crevasses since 2017. He tells me it’s his first day
back on Franz Josef after the pandemic shuttered tourism in the country but, as he’s just spent a season in Antarctica teaching field survival training to scientists, I feel I’m in safe hands.
We’re following pathways that have been carved into the ice and lined with secured ropes. With crampons on and carabiners secured, we set off up the glacier, shimmying through narrow trenches and up icy staircases. Striated walls of ice squeeze us and then disappear entirely to reveal vertiginous drops and glorious views across the glacier.
Underfoot, our boots crunch on a thousand shards of fractured ice — the result of guides like Phil chiselling the path with pickaxes in the early hours. “We’ve had lots of rain the last few days, which washed away the old trail, so we needed to make a new one,” he tells me, as we stop to rest in a naturally formed tunnel of blue ice.
Franz Josef is a rainy place, receiving around 16ft of rain each year, which causes the surface to constantly shift. The frequent fresh snowfall, coupled with the steep and narrow valley, means the glacier is on the run, moving up to 13ft each day.
“It’s like a conveyer belt constantly moving downhill fast. There are certainly bigger and faster glaciers out there, but it’s unusual to have one that finishes in temperate rainforest,” says Phil. He pauses: “To be fair, it’s not really in the rainforest anymore.”
Phil points down the valley to a clearly visible horizontal line cutting across the lower mountains. “That’s where the glacier used to terminate.” Below the line is stubbled with young vegetation creeping its way down into the empty bowl left behind by the retreating ice.
While glaciers naturally grow and shrink depending on environmental factors, aerial surveys carried out by glaciologists found Franz Josef Glacier has retreated dramatically. Before 2012, it was possible to hike directly out of town and on to the ice, but now safely hiking on the glacier is only possible by helicopter. New Zealand’s glaciers are expected to continue shrinking if the current pace of climate change continues, with 80% of ice in the Southern Alps estimated to melt by the end of this century. It’s a sobering forecast, but standing here it’s hard not to be swept away in the majesty of it all, the experience made more precious by the knowledge it could one day disappear.
After two hours of climbing up and down folds of ice, I realise Phil has led us in a big loop back to where we started. With the helicopter buzzing into view, Phil confides his favourite thing is to miss the chopper completely. Instead, he’ll camp out on the glacier and watch as the mountains turn peony-pink at first light.
“People ask if the novelty of working here ever wears off, but it doesn’t,” says Phil. “I need to remind myself every now and then how lucky I am to be here.”
HOW TO DO IT: Franz Josef Glacier Guides offers guided, small-group heli-hikes year-round, with all gear provided. Prices start from NZ$585 (£300) for four hours. Minimum age eight. franzjosefglacier.com