I met Bob at the Mountain Lodge in Arthur’s pass. He worked there. We were talking about the club ski fields in the area, there were many. He was of the opinion that New Zealand’s main ski fields (Cardrona, TC, Mt Hutt) were poor equivalents to north American and European resorts. He recommended trying out the smaller club-run ski fields for a unique feel of New Zealand snow sports.

He handed me the well designed magazine ‘Chill’, a guide to the 12 ski fields in the area. The book contained everything I needed to know including how to get to the hills and what to expect once I arrive.

I decided to head up to Temple Basin the next day. I parked the car at the bottom, next to the 73 alpine highway, and began the 1 hour climb to the lodges and lift. 1 hour climb! Just to get to the first lift! I’m familiar with hiking to get to a sweet stash of powder but usually at the highest lift point.

I’d read about this before. Many of the club fields have no access roads, very basic ‘Nutcracker’ rope tow lifts and feature mostly un-groomed slopes.

So I began the hike up, there were clouds surrounding the peaks on the opposite valley but up towards Temple Basin was clear. Looking up the mountain I saw so signs of life, huts, tow ropes, snowboarders or skiers.

After 45 minutes of scrambling up a variety of gravel, boulders, ice and deep snow, I finally saw a tow rope, 2 snowboarders small buildings and loads of un-tracked powder. 20 minutes later I was at the lodge being introduced to the staff (club fields are friendly in this way). I bought my lift ticket, hired my Nutcracker and outer protective glove and was ready to ride.

A word about the Nutcracker. Many club fields have simple rope tows to take you to the top, you strap on a belt with a metal Nutcracker device attached. This gadget clamps onto the rope and as you hold it closed it pulls you up from the hips. It’s not fun and it kills. I will never moan about T-bars or Poma’s again.

Getting up the hill was painful, but it was over soon as the tows were quick. Once at the top I looked down on fresh snow with nobody around to compete with.

I spent the day riding fresh snow. My nutcracker snapped, and I landed on it awkwardly a couple of times. Other than that I’d shredded some of the best powder I’d ever seen, for a small fraction of the price of an expensive heli-boarding trip.

I’m back in Arthur’s Pass now, tomorrow I’m picking Phil and Annalie up from Christchurch, they couldn’t keep away.