We decided to climb from the Hermitage and dispense with the usual bivouac. The latter always seems a doubtful gain to me, when it only means saving a couple of hours. It is really better to spend four comfortable hours in a decent bed than eight on the hard ground, sleepless and generally uncomfortable. We decided to take Jock Richmond, a young guide who had not so far had much chance of high climbing, with us, and at 2.30 a.m. on the 22nd we left the Hermitage. The morning was warm and dark, and we plodded up the Hooker Valley by lantern-light. Crossing the river by the swing-bridge at the Bluffs, we made across the flats for the foot of the Stocking Glacier. We reached the bivouac rock at 5 a.m. Here we paused for a second breakfast, and then began the ascent. We had first to climb a steep snow slope and then across a patch of rock to the Huddleston Glacier. Here we spent some time finding our way through the broken ice and looking for bridges over the crevasses. After we gained the last rocks above the glacier, we found the snow slopes leading to the col appallingly steep. We made one bad traverse, which necessitated a considerable amount of step-cutting, and eventually gained the col at 10.15 a.m. We were no little delighted with our progress; we had only taken seven and a half hours from the Hermitage, while Fitzgerald and Zurbriggen had spent the same amount of time in gaining the col from a high bivouac above the Stocking. In our hearts all of us were cherishing a plan of going on to the summit of Sefton if it were possible; it seemed such a dreadful waste to be within 1,000 feet and then to turn back. We had only a little food and no extra clothes, but we decided if we could once make the summit we would descend into Westland and gain the camp of the men who were making the new track up the Copland Valley; they would gladly feed us, and we could sleep at Douglas Rock.
From Tuckett's Col the arête looked rather appalling,
