Mount Bonpland, North Ridge
- Mike Morelli
- Nov 22
- 5 min read
Updated: Nov 25
Date: November 23, 2025
Location: Humboldt Mountains, Mount Aspiring National Park, Otago, New Zealand
Total Trip Distance: 11.3 mi / 18.2 km
Total Elevation Gain: 7,251 ft / 2,210 m
Trip Duration: 13.5 hrs
Team: Rob Fraser
Field Notes: Take the Glacier Burn Track up until it ends at the treeline. Staying on the true left of the Burn, continue up to 1,600 meters until you sidle onto the Bryant Glacier, which provides access to the North Couloir. The couloir is 300 meters long and steepens to about forty-five degrees. At the top of the couloir, an awkward slab is encountered, which leads to a 10m high step. Some parties may or may not pitch this (grade 11). Once past this, climb the steep and narrow ridge until the false summit. Beyond this, climb steep snow to the obvious notch in the ridge. Rappel for 25 meters down to a ledge and walk up to the true summit. Return to your rope and climb a grade 14 crack back up to the notch. Retrace your steps back to the couloir where the 10m step can be rappelled. The rock is notoriously loose in this range, and the North Couloir has high objective danger.
Grade: III, 3
Mount Bonpland stands at 2,343 meters and is the tallest mountain in the Humboldt Range. When viewed from Glenorchy, it’s not easy to distinguish the summit, as the east face rises in one gigantic wall. It is a beast of a mountain.
After skiing the Somnus Couloir just a week prior, Rob and I were thinking about another ski-focused trip. The Glacier Burn provides fantastic access, and I was originally interested in some of the couloirs off Bonpland.
For over a year, I’d also been interested in climbing Bonpland. The North Couloir provides rapid access to the North Ridge, and I knew time was running out before the couloir became dangerously out of condition.
I hit up Rob: let’s go alpine climbing instead.
We swapped skis for a trad rack and decided on another midnight start — just seven days after our last one.
With two hours of sleep, we left the van at 12:30 in the morning. The stars shone brightly above. Bonpland rose high in the distance. The temperature was cold — we would definitely get a freeze. Headlamps on, we set off.
Travel was quick up the Glacier Burn track, and before we knew it, we broke out of the treeline. A dirt trail turned to a boulder field. A boulder field turned to snow. We stashed footwear and put on crampons.
Bonpland is a big objective, and I know many strong climbers who’ve taken multiple attempts on this peak. The Bryant Glacier is a war zone, with avalanche debris on every aspect. Beyond avalanches, the rock in the Humboldt Range is notoriously terrible, and rockfall is common.
This is why we started so early. We wanted to be at the top of the couloir exactly at sunrise, and off it as quickly as possible.
Slow is smooth and smooth is fast was our motto for the day (credit to Rob, who credited it to the Navy SEALs) — and it’s a motto I’m going to embed into my climbing forever.
We set a consistent pace from the trailhead and never broke it. By the time we topped out on the North Couloir, we had climbed 1,900 meters and felt very fresh. Things were lining up. The sky was clear, winds were light, the snowpack was bomber, and we were moving well.
The North Couloir is steep — maybe forty-five degrees — but not beyond fifty.
At the top of the couloir is where the technicality began. Immediately, an awkward slab is encountered, which many parties might pitch out. We opted for a short downclimb on very steep snow to cross the base of this slab.
Then we encountered the 10-meter step that probably goes at grade 11 for a move. We were fortunate to have snow buildup at the bottom, which made the crux significantly easier, and we opted to solo it. Without the snow, the rope would have come out.
At the top of this step, our confidence boomed. We sidled along the exposed ridge, climbed another pitch of steep snow, and found ourselves walking along the false summit. The North Ridge is fucking epic — we were truly absorbed. This was some of the best climbing of my whole life.
At the false summit, we spotted the final obstacle: a traverse across steep and exposed snow to the notch where we would rappel twenty-five meters. The snow felt straightforward, but a fall would mean a ride down the entire east face.
Gingerly, we climbed across. If I were doing this again, I would take out the rope — you climb directly to where you’re going to rappel anyway.
We found a solid horn of rock to build an anchor using a 240 cm sling, set ourselves up for the rappel, triple-checked everything, and went down.
I rappelled first to clear loose rock. Rob followed. At the ledge, I smiled one of the biggest smiles of my whole life — we were going to summit.
We walked sixty seconds to the high peak and embraced. What a moment.
I checked my watch: seven and a half hours to the summit. There are days when nothing goes right — mindset off, gear lost, weather craps out. And there are days where everything aligns — mind, body, soul, team, mountain. This was the latter.
We hung out for maybe five minutes to have a quick bite, snap some photos, and stare into the mystic. Rob reminded us: we are halfway.
We returned to the rope, climbed the grade 14 crack at 2,300 meters, and pitched the steep snow back to the false summit.
We continued moving. It was just past eight in the morning and the sun was ripping into the east aspects. We retraced our steps along the exposed ridge until we reached the 10-meter step. I got out some cord, built an anchor, and set up the rappel while Rob organized gear.
Off went Rob, and I joined him shortly after. We were almost out. Now we talked non-stop about the snow conditions in the North Couloir, paranoid about its safety.
We had one final crux across the steep slab, and then we found ourselves at the top of the couloir at 9:45 a.m. Shit. I’d wanted to be there earlier.
Rob began the down climb.
The snow is shit, he said.
It was extremely hot now. I followed Rob, taking care with every placement. The snow was indeed wet, but as we continued, we found it was still safe enough. I was more concerned about rockfall than an avalanche in the couloir.
At the apron, the snow truly turned to shit. We were sinking up to our waists, and we opted to glissade all the way to the massive flat area at the bottom of the “glacier.” Finally away from most of the danger, we organized gear and prepared for the long walk down.
We continued on, following the Glacier Burn down to a beautiful grassy bench beside a glacially fed stream. I looked up at Bonpland...
Was I dreaming? Had we really been climbing along that lofty ridge just a few hours ago?
I dunked my head into the stream to get an answer.
We had. It was a magic day.
Happy days…
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