Sylvester Lake - Kahurangi

I try to get a longish trip in after Christmas each year. This year, with a healthy leave balance, I have three events in mind - the first two in the northern part of the Kahurangi National park.

However, in a master piece of timing Dad decides he's had enough of the depredations of age, its attendant conditions and unpleasant interventions. He quietly slips away on Christmas day.

I'm going to indulge myself a little, so skip a few paras if you just want to read about the first, truncated trip to Lake Sylvester and Iron Hill.

You can pretty much blame him for my choice of weekend activity. Early family holidays were spent by the Waiohine River or at the back of a farm in Golden Bay. As the tribe got older we'd head off for what are now known as the great walks - some of my earliest memories are of the Abel Tasman; carrying a token sugar sack jury rigged into a pack for a can of beans. And tied to a length of flex so they could haul me up the steep bits. We met the park ranger - he was casually walking the whole route in a single day - what a legend.

Later, there was flooding at Nelson Lakes, daunting river crossings in Te Uruwera, and the ever so posh Milford track. He was probably about the age I am now when the family started to get too old for it all.

He made his own pack - canvas with a wooden frame and hellishly uncomfortable. It contained everything including a rope and an axe for splitting the kindling. It took me years to realise that equipment could be new, light and comfortable.

One story he would tell was of taking a bunch of Porirua Boys Brigade Boys into the Tararuas - they were somewhere around Totara Flats when: "A bunch of blokes appeared out of the bush, crossed the track and disappeared again - they were just going cross country!" I was pretty impressed.

Even with rapidly fading sight he'd still make the effort to read these reports and would often have a comment or question. From a background of tramping in groups and sticking to the track he probably thought these exploits were somewhat harebrained.

So ... with the public facing formalities duly completed, I decide I will go ahead with my intended trips subject to necessary amendments. People suggest it will be a good way to take time to think things through. Maybe so.

The three trips in mind are:

• A couple of nights at Sylvester Hut in the Cobb (this one). 
• The main event - along the Douglas and Lockett Ranges exiting via the Anatoki River.
• Something in the lower North Island.

The plan

The logistics were complex before the spanner in the works. Four of us were going to take in the Cobb Valley, the tablelands between the Cobb and Mt Arthur, a jaunt along part of the Peel and the Lockett Ranges for the more adventurous, and a couple of nights at Sylvester Hut to see in the New Year.

In the end, Mike, Angela, Vanessa and Jeanine had a fine time in splendid weather doing most of the above, with me finally joining them at Sylvester Hut. Jeanine was a late addition with the closure of the Paparoa Track. They took my trip notes as a guide, but quite sensibly made it up as they went along.

The transport logistics are gloriously complex. Vanessa flies into Wellington on Christmas Day. Boxing Day Angela takes her car down on the ferry and meets Jeanine - they leave Jeanine's car at Iona and Col's (another story), and take Iona's and Angela's cars to Nelson. Here they leave Iona's car, pick up Mike and Vanessa from the airport and drive out to the Cobb. So far no hitches or hitching.

On the 30th I fly in to Nelson, pick up Iona's car and drive to the Cobb to join them at Sylvester Hut. That gets us to the start of the trip but for completeness I'll note that the reverse logistics were every bit as complicated and involved buses and hitching as well as car swaps.

En route I get a text from Mike requesting some essentials (loo paper and chocolate), and discover that Air New Zealand has burrowed into my pack and removed a cigarette lighter I had forgotten was in my cooking kit.

What:      Cruisey 'tramp'
Where:    Sylvester Hut, Kahurangi
When:     30 December 2019 - 1 January 2020
Who:       Mike, Angela, Vanessa, Janine and me
Map

The 'off track' bits

The Takaka Road still hasn't been repaired and I have a bit of a wait in the hot afternoon. Hopes of a free road from the turn-off to the Cobb are short lived as the annual festival is in full swing involving paddocks full of Torpedo 7 tents and possibly zoned out individuals wandering around the road or disporting in the river.

After this the road is quieter and I'm soon parked at a crowded road end. A bit after 3pm I'm skirting the lake on a 4WD track under a hot sun. The track enters beech forest and starts zigzagging up the valley side. It's pleasant in the shade, but for reasons that will become obvious my pack is much heavier than two days warrant. and I have a few rests on the way up.

The road rounds onto the top and breaks into more sparse and shorter bush and clearings. Away to my left I can see Sylvester Hut a ways before I reach it. I don't note the time but think it takes about an hour and a half up. The other four are already here and chilling in the afternoon sun - there are beds for all but Mike and Angela have pitched a tent.

I dispense some of the supplies I have lugged up (loo paper for V&J, chocolate, a rigger of beer and of cider, and a cranberry juice. After four or five days on iron rations the troops greet these with some enthusiasm. The afternoon drifts by catching up on their adventures to date (Angela can tell that story but it sounds like a relaxing week kicking around the valley and tablelands with the odd dip in a tarn). There was apparently a moment when Vanessa found herself somewhat out of her comfort zone on a steep section, but she gritted her teeth and got through it.

The hut is busy including day trippers, a few more for the hut, and some that pass through opting to camp near the hut or up by the lake. Periodically I dig out another treat from my dwindling supply of surprises.

Hoss is the standout hut companion. He says he is from Persia but has lived in Nelson for a good while. He's had some fantastic trips up and down the southern alps and is embarking on another series, based on completing a traverse deviating no more than a set number of kilometers from a line between Farewell Spit and somewhere near Bluff. A Nelson resident, he runs a rug shop  - which is very handy since Mike and Angela have just bought a Nelson house that has acres of polished floors.

The evening sun sets with a golden hue courtesy of Australia.

The next morning I withdraw a further surprise from my pack for Angela - her favourite Lewis Road Creamery (not so) esspresso.  We say good bye to Hoss and eventually grab some supplies and follow the track over to Lake Sylvester. The plan is for an easy day exploring the lakes.




Lake Sylvester

There's a good track to the lack and across the outlet (piped). A clear foot trail runs between Lake Sylvester and Little Sylvester Lake, then climbs gently towards Iron Lake. The trail fades but there are occasional cairns and it's not too hard to follow your nose upwards. Coming down in clag you would just want to make sure you didn't drift left towards the cliffs above Lake Sylvester.

Looking back over Lake Sylvester

At Iron Lake no-one is keen for a swim - the day is hot but the air is cool and the Lake is cooler still. I'm keen to head up Iron Hill (1695). Its looming rocky face looks somewhat forbidding but I reckon it won't be too bad. Angela and Mike are also keen while Vanessa opts to follow the route back to the hut and Jeanine wants to try a route above the NW side of the lake.

There's a couple just emerging from their tent in the one flat spot by the lake outlet as we wander past and contemplate the route up.

Angela takes on the east face.

The route turns out to be reasonably well cairned and, although steepish in places, the rock is incredibly grippy.  The top section is on looser footing, but you can keep to the veg on the sides and there's no real fall risk.

Mike taking in Lakes: Iron (closest), Sylvester (left) and Little Sylvester (right)

At the top there's a rock stack to the left which, although not the highest point, is the most dramatic. We declare it to be the top and scramble into the notch and up it's flank. It has taken less than an hour climbing at a relaxed pace.

'"Come-on up Angela, the views are fantastic"

"I'm not entirely sure this is a good idea ..."

Below we can see the lakes we explored laid out and, beyond, the cloud capped northern end of the Arthur Range. To the south east is Mt Arthur and the tablelands, with the upper Cobb Valley running north west between us and the Peel Range. South west are the ranges of hills and mountains in the wild heart of the Kahurangi Ranges. It's beautiful, and just a little bit daunting.

Cobb Valley

Most of the top of Iron Hill is rounded with shattered rock or low herbs and tussock. Sporadic seams of brilliant white quartz have also shattered casting drifts of white - rather like my own top. It looks look someone has driven a steamroller through a cemetery.

We take lunch on the rounded northern hillside overlooking Lockett Lake and Mt Lockett - I'm casing these out for my next trip, but more on that later.

A couple stop to chat, and point out that if we go 10m to our left  there is a view down into Lake Lillie.  They are heading down to make a traverse via Diamond Lake Stream and the Quarry to the dam. It looks like an interesting route which I've heard a few people referring to.

After lunch we head back to the the top of our route down. Some helpful soul has embedded a quartz pebble arrow into the ground to mark the spot. If you're coming down the Lockett Range the route down starts in a barren gravel part of the top; if you get to the very obvious notch you have gone too far.

"Where did we come up?"

"No idea."

The couple from the tent are coming up as we descend.

It's hard not to be distracted by the view and to keep an eye on your feet.

At the bottom Angela takes a skin tingling dip in the lake, while I scout out a way up the knob to the north west of Lake Sylvester. It's steepish but quite straight forward if you angle up.

Back to Iron Lake from part way up knob

I'm wanting to come back this way as I've heard there is a route to Lake Lockett.  Sure enough, just as the ridge takes a jink right and becomes flatter as it heads down towards the hut, there is a cairn and an iron stake 50 odd metres north west off the ridge. The map shows a clearing running down to the Iron Lake Stream from here.

Across to Lake Lockett

It's quite a long wander back down the ridge, and the hut takes an age to get closer. On arrival the others are relaxing, after having practiced their route finding and cairn spotting (Vanessa), and terrifying themselves on the steep loose slopes above Lake Sylvester (Jeanine).

Australia once again provides a warm 'burnt gum' tint to the evening sun. There are a couple of families in - the adults mostly in tents and the kids inside with us. We amuse them and us with a riddle game for a bit, then it becomes a bit of a mission to keep awake to see in the new year.

My pack renders up its final surprises (another rigger of beer and a second large Bunderburg ginger beer), someone else circulates a squeeze bottle of Laphroaig. The night is mild until a cool wee breeze springs up - we sit and spot satellites and meteorites and chat about not very much. At last it's midnight, and after a round of Auld Lang Syne we retire. Happy New Year.

In an astounding display of civility, the children stay asleep until after 8. We get up at a leisurely pace and have egg burritos for breakfast before packing up and ambling off down the hill.

At the bottom we sort ourselves between the two cars and I head off first with Angela. We are well on the way down the other side and are navigating past a van (so close we knock his wheel nut covers off), when someone taps on the back window of the car. "Mike said to say the keys to the other car are in his pack in your car!" The couple of strangers have raced after us to deliver the message. As I pop back to thank them the woman driving says "it was like being in a James Bond car chase!"

And that's pretty much it for the last and first 'tramp' of 2019/20. A few days at Pohara and I'll be ready for the next installment. 

Postscript

It seems like there were some challenges for Vanessa which I hope she enjoyed - even if only in retrospect. In revenge she took the others horse riding the next day.

Why Sylvester Hut for New Year's? Angela reckons Sylvester is part of German traditions around New Year. Apparently, in Germany they celebrate the fourth century Pope Sylvester I on 31 December. A bit of an excuse for a drunken knees up which seems appropriate given the excesses of some of those that have held that position.

New Year's aside, the Diamond Lakes district around our Sylvester Hut provides stunning scenery that is reason enough for a visit. Inner peace? - not so much.

Options

A day or two can be quite happily spent at Sylvester: pop up to Iron Hill, a more ambitious loop to  Lake Ruby and Diamond Lake, across to Lockett Lake or maybe even up Mt Lockett, exit to the dam via diamond Lake Stream and the Quarry ... a bit of web surfing throws up GPS routes and notes from various sources.

The route northwest up the Lockett Range (or back) is popular. Depending on your appetite it seems doable in a longish day (9-10 hours) or bitten off in two half days with a night at Ruby Lake.

Triangle Hut

So, I made the mistake of delaying my write up and trying to remember the details over a month later ...
On the positive side, this will be have to be brief.

This weekend I've designed a trip around the Rangiwahia Hut road end on the west side of the Ruahine Ranges. The forecast and my fitness are not brilliant, so I plumb for a relatively less ambitious loop taking in a bit of off-track, Irongate Hut (the new hut should be just about finished now), Triangle Hut and Rangiwahia Hut.


What:    Tramp
Where:   Western Ruahine Range
When:    7-8 December 2019
Who:      Solo
Map

The usual long drive up, this time via a pretty good old-school bakery in Fielding (noted for future reference).  The only thing of note is the amount of haze in the air - possibly something to do with Australia being on fire.

It's a popular road end so I'm expecting a few cars - there's two, possibly an indication of the forecast. I head off about 8.50 am.

Straight out of the carpark I take a right onto Deadmans track and plod on up. It's a good track, Climbing steeply then more gently. Before the bushline a couple of hunters are coming down - they've spent the night under a fly and bagged a deer in the morning. They're happy to stop for a chat and I pick their brains about the conditions and vegetation on the ridge - the forecast wind was reasonably kind to them but is set to get up during the weekend.

There's a long section through tussock and I can start to get a feel for the landscape - it's surprisingly gentle. At the top (10.25) it's hot in the sun and I'm not feeling 100% so stop for a half hour snooze in the tussock above a wee tarn, tucked out of the wind.

Underway again I head right (south) off the track and down the ridge. It starts wide and flat without much of a foot trail - it would be easy to drift off line in clag and miss the sharp drop to a saddle and the continuation of Whanahuia Range.

It's a bit scrubby in places and the foot trail comes and goes but it's fine going to pt 1392 which I loop around to approach from the south. The wind is even stronger now but isn't making a difference to the haze. Tucked in the tussock I study the map - the spur down is obvious today but would take a leap of faith to find the top in clag (11.50am).

SW from 1392 - probably pt 1434 

Top of spur SE off pt 1392 - note the haze

I can't see any foot trail as I clamber down through thickening scrub. Before long it is full on leatherwood with no sign that anything but animals come this way. I chose this spur because it leads straight to the hut and it's inconceivable that someone hasn't used it as a commuting route - once again the Ruahines aren't following the Tararua mold.

The leatherwood band runs lower than the map indicates and I'm thoroughly sick of the clambering and rending by the time more mature forest takes over. Towards the bottom the spur steepens and there's a glimpse of the new Irongate hut. I drift a bit too far right and have a clamber across a steep face to find a way down to the river. You don't want to get too close to the stream opposite the hut as there is a significant waterfall.

Across the river the brand spanking new Irongate hut is glowing in the sun. I arrive about 2pm to a sign on the door indicating that the workers have finished and are happy for all comers to demolish their remaining food but not to touch the other gear. Their farewell entry is the last in the log book.

The old hut has been demolished and the new hut is certainly an improvement - warm, light, spacious with a big veranda. The DOC website still has photos of the old hut and I didn't count the mattresses but it looks like it would sleep 10-12 on bunks and room for many more on the floor and deck.

I have plenty of food for myself and don't fancy carrying anything more, so restrain myself to nibbling one of their Cookie Time cookies as I inspect the premises.

It's really tempting to stay but I'm keen on having a short day out tomorrow so reluctantly leave the new facility (and free food) about 2.45.

Heading up river the track ducks up a stream on the true right then leaves it to climb steeply onto a spur. In coming weeks the news is full of satellite photos of the Australian smoke plume reaching across the Tasman - but today I am just left wondering if the sunset colours in the mid-afternoon sun filtering through the beech canopy are related.

There're stoat traps along the way and I empty and reset 5 or 6 (all rats). I'm still not feeling great so just plod along and am relieved to get to the bottom and the flatter river travel (4.10pm).

It's a narrowish valley so you're in and out of the water but I don't recall anything challenging about this section. Triangle hut when it hoves into view (4.55) is perched on a wee terrace. It's old but perfectly serviceable. The Whio protectors are frequent visitors and it shows as the hut is kept tidy.

I note in the log book that another party took a different spur off the range to me (off Mangahuia) - they too do not recommend the experience and I can completely understand their sentiments (yep - that would be you Jean!).

Triangle Hut

There's a bit of afternoon left and had I been a bit more on the game I might have looked at heading on to Rangiwahia Hut. The sensible thing however is to stay put and peruse the hut literature, which is what I do.

The wind gets up a bit during the night and it's raining off and on in the morning. I get away at 7.15 up the marked track - a far more sensible way of getting to and from the ridge. Looking back across the valley I'm a bit regretful not to be heading up the ridge behind the hut to Taumataomekura - this had been part of the original plan put paid to by the weather forecast. I have to admit to myself that, weather aside, I'm just too far off colour for it have been a goer.

The wind is strong across the ridge with clag coming and going. The foot trail is obvious though so I hardly need to look at the map. A short diversion up to Mangahuia (9.10am - not because it has a spot height) then I'm on the long, long, gentle descent to Rangiwahia hut.  The cloud starts to break, the wind drops and the rain fades.

Mangahuia

I didn't know what to expect but Rangiwahia Hut is a surprise (10am). What looks to be a beautifully muralled small hut with no windows turns out to be a massive woodshed. Then comes the hut with equally beautifully decorated toilets. The hut sees a lot of visitors and the infrastructure has received investment to match.

Rangiwahia wood shed

Rangiwahia Hut and Rangiwahia outhouses

It's about 10.05 and there's no point hanging about so I head on down the wide track. There're some engineering challenges with the steep and eroding faces in the area but DOC is keeping on top of it and there are some excellent information boards.





About 20 minutes down from the hut the track crosses a gorge on a beautiful arched wooden bridge looking like something from a Lord of the Rings film set.


After that there's a bit of a climb across a crumbling hillside and succession plants then back into good forest on a wide track. I bump into one couple on the way up but don't stop to chat, getting back to the car about 10.50

Not too busy today

Postscript

The loop around Rangiwahia Hut and Deadmans is a much visited part of the park with very good tracks and facilities and info on the DOC website. There's no need to say anything more about that.

The Whanahuia range south is clearly traveled and the short bit I did was pretty straight forward although the foot trails weren't strong.

Once again, seemingly obvious off track routes don't have evidence of use and are tough going through the scrub belt. It's definitely doable but I don't really recommend the spur off 1392.

The new Irongate Hut is flash, large and will really lift the possibilities from the Petersons Road end.

I was unsure about the quality of travel from there to Triangle Hut. In the end it was fine - the main thing was just that it is a bit of a grunt over the spur. I don't know what the river is like around the loop but it might be interesting to find out on a hot day.

As for the rest - pretty much exactly what you would expect from reading the map.

All up, not a particularly startling weekend but a passable loop trip.

Cone SAREX - 2

An email arrives out of the blue from Wairarapa Search and Rescue (SAR) noting that I'd been a missing party for an exercise a couple of years ago (more than three as it turns out) and would I be available to do so again.

It's good to be able to help out in some small way and you always learn a thing or two on these sort of outings, so I'm more than happy to oblige. 

A few days out, Tony (Police) touches base to confirm the briefing for the missing persons party is at the Masterton SAR base at Midday Friday and we'll be heading up to Cone to camp for the night before deploying to our locations. We duly convene and receive our instructions ...

What:   SARex
Who:     Paul, Fiona, Cameron, me
Where:  Cone area - eastern Tararuas
When:   15-17 November 2019
Photo credits:   Fiona, apart from the bad ones of the inside of my fly and the clematis   
Maps:






Saturday details - camp at triangle, broken leg at arrow, F&C purple, cancelled route blue

Tony has outdone himself with the creativity of the backstory. Paul, Fiona, Cameron and I are a group of Christian aid workers just returned from Vanuatu and headed into the hills for a bit of adventure.  Paul's wife is not too thrilled about the prospect given his fitness but has dropped us at the Waiohine road end - she has some vaguely outlined intentions that will be fed to the Incident Management Team at the appropriate time.

We're supplied with written story lines, injury descriptions, RTs (with a scramble channel as well as the same channels as the rescue teams so we can follow progress), grid reference to be missing at, GPS unit and ration packs for the weekend before a member of the constabulary (in the role of Paul's wife) takes us to the road end.

In real life, Paul is an experienced tramper who has been the missing person on quite a few SAR exercises including the one I went on. Fiona and Cameron are Wellington SAR volunteers who are looking forward to the experience from the other side of the fence.

Just before we head off we take a group photo which will be supplied to the IMT.





We take it slow on the way up and over the familiar route to Cone Saddle. Although there's been a bit of rain, the mud is still el dente. We check in with Tony from the saddle and start up to Cone itself.  As we climb it gets colder and windier. The forecast bad weather is starting to come through so we keep an eye out for possible 'plan B' camping spots should the high camp be untenable - there's not much in the offing though.














At the bushline we disperse through the low goblin forest to try to find our own wee niches. The wind is whipping across the open top of Cone and driving the first of the drizzle through the sparse cover of the forest edge. It's looking like a very uncomfortable night is in the offing.

The others find their positions and I plumb for the spot I used last time - it's a bit damp underfoot but flat and has some usefully spaced trees. The fly whips in the wind and the para cord ties itself in notes to frustrate increasingly numb fingers.

Eventually I have a low pitched fly with a jury rigged wind break down the sides from a stack of branches left by the last track clearing party. It looks wholly inadequate but I will be sleeping in my bivvy bag as well so I consider it done and pop over to Fiona and Camerons' rather more salubrious digs. They have a three sided fly with some actual head room and water boiling for dinner, I cadge a cup full and we sit in the gathering gloom watching Paul's fly whip in the wind. I can feel the roots of the tree I'm sitting against lifting as the tree flexes.

Chez Paul - the lump in the middle is him

Room for two

How low can you go?

It's a restless night. The wind batters my position with rumbling signalling when a particularly strong gust is barreling in across the tops. The fly is below the worst of it but is taking a beating and there's enough rain that water starts flowing underneath. I'm warm but definitely hunkered down to endure the night and don't get a lot of sleep with the nylon flapping a few inches above my nose.

Snug?

Tony calls up on schedule in the morning to say that there will be no helicopter flying today - this means ground teams will have to walk to our location to start the search, adding about four hours. He outlines a slightly changed scenario whereby Paul will be found more quickly but the rest of us will stick to the original plan. I radio Cameron and Fiona (about 12m away) to liaise on a get up and out time - they're keen to get moving as our target locations are in the lee of the ridge. I've already had breakfast so this gives me a bit of time to contemplate my next move.

The big down side of bivs in bad weather is the logistic complexity of getting into and out of them with out getting your dry gear wet and muddy. I spend the last few warm minutes in my sleeping bag stepping through the process.

Although the wind is still strong with belts of rain coming through, it's not too cold so once we get moving it's not bad. We leave Paul under his fly - he'll wander down the track a wee way when the search team approaches and pretend to be suffering the effects of a diabetic attack. His story will confirm our direction of travel and our intention to leave the marked track.

A brief stop to pick up water from the tarn which has an active spring in it today and shortly after we are back in beech forest and out of the wind.

There's no hurry so we amble along until where my spur diverges and I say goodbye to Fiona and Cameron. They are destined for the next major spur where they will be overcome by a violent bout of Campylobacter rendering them non-responsive - me; to break my tibia off the side of my spur.

Christian aid worker Fiona prepares for the ordeal ahead

The somewhat devout Cameron and me

With plenty of time I wander down making no effort to hide my trail. It's a bit of a tricky shape to the spur in places - left to my own devices I would have just pottered along with compass and map, but I crack out the GPS in a few spots as I don't want to stuff the exercise up by ending up in the wrong spot.

Part way down an explosion of white flowers draped through a sub-canopy tree herald a clematis vine. They glow in the low light but are tricky to get a shot of due to the wind. I assume it is Clematis peniculata or puawhananga which flowers around now.

Around the 600m contour there's a wee knob, it's about where I'm supposed to have wandered off the main line of the spur and followed a side spur north east, but for now I decide to stay put knowing I have radio coverage until a search team gets close.

It's windy but the cloud cover is trying to break - I wrap up and settle down on my sleeping mat for lunch with sleeping bag and fly spread out to dry. Every hour Tony checks in and I follow the progress of the search parties. Fiona and Cameron report that they have found a lovely flat spot on their spur and set up camp.

Fiona and Cameron - very comfortable

A party eventually radios in that Paul has been found - he dutifully delivers his messages then tags along as they are redeployed along the ridge. Time for me to head for the site of my accident. I discover that my sleeping mat has a puncture - an added incentive to be found in time to get to a hut or road end.

In the end I prop a little way up slope of my final objective and sit and read my book with half an ear on the radio. At his next call in Tony agrees that the chances of finding me here tonight aren't good so I redeploy back to my previous spot around 600m - no reading though as there are spots of rain. I don't have to wait long before another change in plan - it seems one rather than two parties will be searching my spur so I need to relocate further up, and quickly as 'there are a couple of grey hounds in that group.'

I race back up, find a plausible spot to have taken a fall (on the leeside of the spur) - and settle in again. This time in clag with the bad weather feeling ominously close.  I'm worried that the team may have beaten me and headed down to 386 according to the revised search plan (blue dots on map) but Tony calls in and confirms they are still on their way.

Soon after I hear voices from up the spur - I blow my whistle and shouting ensues. I am most decidedly a responsive patient with every intention of not having to spend another night out.

The team turn up and do their thing - assessing my condition, asking what I know about the others, reporting to base etc. They are quite proud to report the signs they have found of my trail - foot prints and scuff marks (yep - should be lots of those), a wee coloured rubber band (never seen it before), and a mock camp site (sorry - not me either). They also ask if I heard their whistling (nope - just the voices).

After a while I am miraculously healed and we proceed on down the spur - apparently the team has been retasked and we will be following the spur to Totara Flats and not the side spur to 386 (so I didn't need to race back up the hill after all).  Periodically they pause and spread out, block their ears, blow their whistles then listen intently. One of them is sure he hears a whistle but as the party closing in on Fiona and Cameron are well over a kilometre away with a strong wind it wasn't from the search exercise..

The team are still looking for signs of the other missing persons so in the interests of speed I break role and point out that I've been down and up the spur so don't get too excited by all the marks. 

The search develops a twist with the notification of a real missing person on Mt Reeve - south of the search area. A teams is duly dispatched to Tutuwai  Hut with instructions to set out early and search in the morning - another couple of teams are located to the Waiohine road end for possible deployment in the morning (however the chap walks out under his own steam in the end). The rest of the exercise continues.

At 600m the spur shape gets confused so the team follow their GPS but towards the bottom we drift off and the last 40 vertical meters is through supplejack and kiekie in the gathering dark.

At the bottom we are abruptly on flat ground and within 40 meters I'm standing on the track. It's starting to rain in earnest.

The team confer on next steps - bivvy up here or head to the hut. I'm mildly interested in their conclusion as I have absolutely no intention of spending a night out in the rain and wind with a flat sleeping mat.

Fortunately they come up with the correct answer and we head out on what will be (after one wee terrace) a flat three kilometres to Totara Flats Hut.

My headtorch batteries are just about had it but I'm not going to hold the party up to change them so stick to the leader's heels, the rest of the team strung out behind. Doing a quick count we realise that there are too many lights - it looks like another team is behind us. It turns out to be Fiona and Cameron who were left behind by their rescuers to strike camp - they seem to have recovered as well from their D&V as I have from a broken leg.

Eventually a tinge of woodsmoke in the air followed by the smell of the loo herald our arrival at a crowded Totara Flats Hut.

There's quite a few of the SAR teams in loc as well as the usual punters. A Meet-up tramping group is also settled in and I exchange a few words with Scott but am a little bit more intent on getting out of the wet and into some dinner.

There's no mattresses to be had so I settle on my deflated mat on the common room floor. Outside the wind slashes rain against the hut.  The morning can wait but we are required to be at Holdsworth road end by 10am so it will be an early start.

I sleep surprisingly well - aided by the near miraculous lack of snorers (the bunk rooms didn't fare so well apparently).

The SAR parties start heading out so the missing persons link up again and set off into the elements. The Waiohine is up and turbid - there would be no crossing it today. The track up Totara Creek is mostly a running stream until the footbridge and the start of the sidle up the hill.

One of our party is not 100% so we take it slowly and let the other parties past. It's unrelentingly soggy at the start.

The track is well marked and of a good standard. After the first steep climb it ambles along and down to the saddle between Totara and Carrington creeks. This is where it hooks up with the old route that followed Totara creek. The next section is interesting because, although it is on a bit of a spur there is often a wee stream running down the track. It is also the longest climb in the Tararuas - not because it actually is, just because you want to have it over and done with but it just doesn't seem to want to end.

Our afflicted party member is making heavy weather of the climb so we redistribute some gear and I end up with a pack on front - fortunately two ridiculously light packs make up a normal pack so it is no hardship.

The end of the climb is signalled when the track flattens and sidles east across the slope - we pop out at the junction with Gentle Annie track for the long downhill. Gear is redistributed to its rightful owner and we head on down at a good pace.

Paul points out some useful side spurs to the Atiwhakatu river and links up ridge to the old track - he clearly knows these parts very well. The weather gets progressively better as we head for the valley floor and we start bumping into day and dog walkers.

At the last bridge I hear over the radio that the van is full and is leaving - bugger, we'll have to wait for another to be dispatched.  It's not so bad though as there are patches of sun breaking through and the time passes quickly.

The SAR base is a hive of activity with the IMT winding down, teams debriefing and gear being checked in. I make a beeline for 1. the car (dry clothes) then 2. the BBQ.

Pretty soon I'm warm, dry, fed and have returned the electronics. The volunteers are exchanging notes about their various taskings; they are friendly but it's a little like any club when you're not a member so I slip away and leave them to it.

Wairarapa SAREX 2019 - Missing persons team

Postscript

I said you always learn a thing or two during these events - so,what were they?

There's how SAR teams and events operate - I'm bound to need them one day and it's good to understand what to expect. On the pragmatic side, I used a GPS in anger for about the second time in the bush and I learned the hard way how robust my sleeping pad isn't. I also have a better idea about the limitations of my fly.

The main thing that struck me though was the psychological difference between SAR team members, tramping parties and me. SAR operations are large, command and control affairs; for it all to work teams have to trust that IMT will make the decisions and do the tasking - too much autonomy would be a bad thing. The team members themselves have to be able to stick to their subtasks and work together to be effective. Decision making is by necessity through group processes within externally defined parameters and religious attention to safety. Team member skill levels are definable in terms of formal training undertaken, experience and assignment to leadership roles. It's a little like working with the army but, as volunteers, the uniform/civvy divide is less pronounced.

Tramping groups share a lot of these characteristics but without the same external command and control element and with varying degrees of formality around group decision making. Competence is often harder to gauge, highly variable and leadership self-assigned. They can be great or downright dangerous.

As a solo tramper I find group process and progress to be slow - not having the advantage of group discussion I'm used to analysing a problem while I'm walking, and only really stopping to assess a hazard or make navigation decisions. Although free of the problems of group think and risk threshold shift I have to try to avoid pitfalls like personal blind spots and failing to recognise impaired decision ability. I reckon you think differently when there's no one there to watch your back and need to be mindful about how this influences how you behave when in a group.

Although my views on the net increase in risk associated with solo tramping are on record, I did observe how being in a group changed my risk exposure.  On my own I would have stayed in Cone Hut on Friday night and headed up the ridge early Sat morning - thereby avoiding a rough night out. I would also have been off the spur and to the hut in daylight hours and less exposed to the elements by being out faster on the Sunday.

So what? I'll probably carry a bit more kit when I'm in a group as there is more standing around getting cold and higher chance of getting into some situations I would avoid on my own.

But overall, the main thing was getting a better appreciation of the hours and effort that a lot of volunteers put into SAR - I sure am a helluva lot happier knowing they're out there practicing for when I might be needing them.

Tarn Biv and Happy Daze

Labour weekend - a celebration of workers rights (or commemoration of their subsequent erosion?) and three days for tramping. I take an extra day's leave to give three and a half days, but end up getting out early and using the extra day for some much needed recuperation.

The trip planning starts with an eastern road end (Kashmir Road) and a wish list. Taking the weather into account a plan starts to congeal.

The things that have caught my eye: the river route from the headwaters of the Pohangina River, the Makaretu catchment to the east, Longview Hut (a casualty of a plan change a fortnight ago), and a bunch of ridges to the north (Daphne, Sawtooth, and Black).

The plan: carpark to Howlett Hut via Daphne Ridge, across Sawtooth Ridge to come down Black Ridge to Tarn Biv then down to the Tukituki River, up a spur to Longview Hut then down the Pohangina River, over the Ridge to the Makaretu - pop down to Happy Daze Hut then up the river to Awatere Hut and the carpark. I also have a weather variation up the sleeve.

I completely forget that everyone else has a holiday and will also be wanting to drive around and get into the hills. I bump into more people than I usually meet in the course of 6 months - inevitably, heuristics kick in and I find myself categorising and making assumptions about them ...


What:    Tramp - mostly on tracks and in rivers
Where:   Eastern Ruahines - between Happy Daze hut and Tarn Biv
When:    26-28 October 2019
Who:      Solo
Maps

 
 

The trip starts on a Friday night with a bit of research into the meals at the steam punk hotel in Featherston (yes, they do have such a thing). The verdict - good standard for a pub meal, but who let the piano accordionist in!?

The next morning it's quite a drive up to Ashley-Clinton (off highway 50) and a long winding gravel road into the foot hills. All passable in a Carolla hatch although a couple of the steep bits could be a little ropy in the wet. The wee car looks out of place beside the 6 utes at the road end.

A hunter pulls up and we chat as we get sorted. He's about my age and happy to pass the time (assumption: a good bloke that probably treats huts well and doesn't leave rubbish in the bush).

He's also heading to Longview and maybe to Howlett's Hut but is a bit skeptical about the conditions on the ridge. I've already changed the plan on the grounds that it looks like gale force winds and snow on Daphne Ridge.

It's 1020 as I head up on a good track from the saddle north west up to the Ruahine Range and Longview Hut. I pass a hunter coming down after an aborted day trip - too windy so no self-respecting game is about (assumption: newbie with clean, new gear).

On the ridge the wind is obstreperous - the sort that pushes you around and generally makes life difficult. The hut is a few hundred meters south along the range. A little over an hour from the carpark. The hut is busy with two hunters about to exit and four trampers debating their next move (assumption: probably part of a tramping club (wrong), one of them is going to be annoying and disapprove of solo tramping off track).

Spur to carpark runs left to right

Longview Hut

We chat and I suggest a few options for getting to Top Gorge Hut. The two hunters are a bit gloomy after three days of snow, hail, howling wind and no deer. They're pulling the pin and heading back to the car (assumption: a bit rough around the edges, probably haven't put their names in the book or paid their hut fees, but will probably stock up firewood etc, bound to have some booze and will likely leave some supplies at the hut).

Leaving the hut just before 12 I bump into hunter number one and we share notes - he's set to stay the night and see if conditions in the morning are conducive for getting to Howlett's Hut. I relay my changed intentions to head to Tarn Biv and assess conditions for Black and Sawtooth Ridges tomorrow.

There's an intermittent foot trail and the odd cairn along the ridge to pt 1189 and then the drop to the bushline. Despite being pushed about by the wind, navigation is straightforward but I suspect would be tricky in clag as the top is often broad.

Looking down on ridge with 1189 (from the next day)

In the shelter of beech forest the wind roars through the tree tops but is no longer an impediment to orderly progress. I potter along (past the intersection to the bottom carpark track about 12.45) until I suddenly barge into the middle of a party having lunch on the track. They've come up from the lower carpark and have found the first sunny clearing to stop (assumption: family group, the teenagers probably don't want to be here, good on them for getting this far, hope they take their rubbish out).

At the bottom of the spur (1.30) there's about half a Km of river travel to Daphne Hut and I'm hoping I can get through with dry feet as wet boots would be problematic in the snow. No dice. The Tukituki River is knee deep and frequent crossings are unavoidable. I note a couple of blokes wandering up from lower down the river but don't wait to chat (assumption: one has something long on his pack - could be hunters, but wearing wide brim hats and no camo. Not on the main route so likely to know what they are doing).

First look at the Tukituki River

The river is pretty - I've heard about the condition of the Tukituki River once it has reached the plains, but here it is clear with a blue tint.

After a short gorgy section the true right side stream and triangle marking the spur to Howlett hut are obvious - Daphne hut is on the true left just after and not so obvious until you come near level with it. Someone has put a couple of pink tape markers in the river bed but I suspect they won't survive the next flood. It's a bit under 20 minutes from joining the river.

Daphne hut is a delightful A frame on a sunny terrace. I've always thought of A frames as being an inefficient use of ground space - however by bringing the eaves to the ground there is ample covered space for firewood or an overflow of trampers.

I sit on the step and eat my lunch in the sun. It would be sensible to stay here as it is unlikely that the wind will drop and snow melt enough overnight to make the ridge loop viable. But as there's no indication in the log that anyone has headed up to the biv I figure the view will be worth the effort.

Leaving about 2.25 it is less than 10 minute and a couple of river crossings (ankle deep) to the base of the spur. As expected, the lower slopes are  mucky and steep with loose footing. But soon enough it turns into a good quality mossy trail in forest. I pause frequently on the climb - including to wring socks out in an attempt to dry my boots.

There's an old browse study test site on the way up - this is likely an old Forestry Service relic (pre 1987) - a tiny barbed wire enclosure to keep deer and goats out. The trees have grown around the wire and there's a spare coil still hanging on a branch.

With height, the wind becomes more evident again, and when the track breaks out of the bush there is a blast that knocks me side ways - also a view of a very exposed, and snowy Sawtooth Ridge. The ridge here is not too sharp so the bullying wind is inconvenient rather than dangerous but the route tomorrow is looking very unlikely.

A bit after 4 pm I reach the turn off to Rosvall track which drops steeply east to the river. It says an hour to the hut but I suspect that is an overestimate.

The track soon breaks out of the forest and I find my entire attention being applied to my footing.  Around 4.30 I crest a knob and raise my head to see Tarn Biv - an orange dot tucked into a ripple in the ridge.

The loo is tucked just off the edge of the ridge and, like Toka Biv is somewhat exposed.

There are no substantive ridges between here and the plains so there is that slightly odd feeling of standing in tussock in a blasting westerly looking at orderly farmland far below stretching to the horizon.

On the other side of the ridge, stretching across the west is Sawtooth Ridge.

Ohuinga on right

Tarn Biv is the standard two-mattresses-and-not-quite-enough-room-to-stand-up affair. With no other inhabitants it will be perfect for the night. According to the log the last visitors were a party of 7 from Wellington on 30 June.

I pull on a few layers and lie in the tussock in the afternoon sun looking at the view until it gets a bit too cool.

It's a noisy night with the wind but the Biv is well protected so it isn't buffeted much. In the morning the wind has swung a little more from the north and is, if anything stronger than yesterday. I've decided Sawtooth is not a goer before I'm out of bed.

Just after 6am I'm sitting on the step of the Biv in my sleeping bag, wrapped against the wind to watch the sunrise. There's a little bit of cloud on the horizon but it is promising to be a sunny day.

By 7 I'm heading out, well rugged up against the wind.

The wind tips me over a couple of times but I potter down the ridge getting to the bottom after about 1hr 10.

This time I remove my almost dry boots to cross the river. A pause at Daphne to complete the log (the two chaps from yesterday arvo came through five minutes after I left).

I remove boots again for the final crossing and although taking them off for the three crossings is time consuming, it's nice to know I'll have almost dry boots for the rest of the day. I start the 700m climb at 8.50 at a slow but steady pace with the morning sun filtering through the canopy.

Near the bush line a couple of trampers are coming down - this turns out to be the chaps from yesterday who spent the night at Howlett's Hut. They're older with a fishing rod (changed assumptions: probably know their way around, have respectable bush craft and respect for the bush, not hurrying but will be able to cover the ground when needed). They poked their nose up the ridge in the morning but decided that the snow was too deep and the wind to strong to brave the climb to Tiraha (1688m).

Out of the bush the track climbs for a while further through tussock and scrub with the odd wee patch of snow.  At 10.25 I reach the ridge and a few minutes later Howletts Hut.

Northwest from hear Howletts - Tiraha on right

The cheerful blue hut is tucked in beside the ridge. It belongs to Heretaunga Tramping Club who are doing a fine job of keeping it in a good state. The sun is streaming in and I take a leisurely early lunch hour, eventually leaving about 11.35.

The track along Daphne Ridge is a bit overgrown with tussock and low scrub; with the strong wind it makes for slowish progress. A rifle toting figure approaches and we meet in the lee of some scrub so stop for a chat - it's hunter number one, he's come from Longview and will be stopping the night at Howlett. He reports on the route ahead - watch for false trails into the saddle, it's windy, ridge on the other side is not so bad but a long climb. He also notes there's an Asian party following him that was at Longview.

He's seen nothing to shoot and has given up expecting to.

We head our ways and over the next few minutes the four members of the other party come past in fits and starts. I find that my assumptions are more stereo type - they probably don't know NZ environment very well and may be out of their depth - however, they're getting along fine and seem to have reasonable kit.

To the left of the range I can see the saddle I'm heading for.

The trail tops out at Taumatataua (1415m) then drops into a wee saddle that funnels the howling westerly. Past the saddle the track sidles then drops south east into the lee above the main saddle. It is suddenly still enough to hear my ears ringing from the wind.

A couple of younger hunters are sweating up the hill so I sit and wait as they approach (assumptions: younger - could be a bit gung-ho, may not be the best examples of the hunting breed). They're happy to stop and chat - they also lament the conditions, the lack of game and the weight of their 'walking sticks' (rifles). We exchange tips on the routes we have traversed and continue on our ways.

Looking back at the saddle

Through the saddle the wind returns in force and I start the hot climb up the other side with a bit of assistance. At the top (1.05) is a sign for the spur route east down to Daphne Hut, then it is a long walk, climbing south to Otumore. The ridge is mostly wide with less scrub than Daphne Ridge.

At 2.10 I reach a sign marking where to drop to Pohangina Saddle or follow a poled route to the descent to Irongate Hut (or follow along Ngamoko Range where I came along a fortnight ago).

Looking back down the ridge

I head for the saddle on a track made muddy by snow melt. Stoat traps are again present to mark progress. It's a long drop to Pohangina Saddle then a short sidle out on a muddy and overgrown track. I'm now on familiar territory for the short skip to Longview Hut.

At 2.50 the hut is basking in the sun and empty. The log indicates that the trampers from yesterday made it to Top Gorge and back ok. The hunters have left some food and cans of booze.

There's plenty of afternoon left so time to head down to Top Gorge Hut. The route isn't marked on the map so below are some photos and descriptions that might help should you be of a mind ...

There's an old sign a few meters further down the range from Longview Hut. At 3.30 it points me off the edge of the ridge to find a way through scattered scrub - I find myself on an eroding face with some warratahs and the odd cairn.

Looking back up towards the ridge. 

The trick seems to be not to stray to far left into some steep erosion gullies. Following the bare surface down leads towards a wee knob with bush on it.

A warratah marks where the trail drops right down to the wee creek.at a fork. There's a couple of cairns to mark the spot when you're coming up but these are not really needed as it is straight above a waterfall. It's less than 10 minutes down from the ridge.

There's a bit of a scramble down on the true right of the waterfall - it could be a little tricky grovelling up as there isn't a lot to hold onto. You're now in a narrow gully with steep sides.

A couple of minutes later there is another waterfall to scramble down on the right again.

A few minutes later again there is another small waterfall but look for a cairn in the grass on the right just before it which marks where a precarious trail grovels up, over and down the other side of a wee spur to avoid a high waterfall.

The trail comes down on the true right.

Another few minutes down stream and another waterfall is skirted on the left this time.

Finally, the main forks mark the end of the narrow headwaters section. It has taken less than half an hour from the ridge.

Coming up river there's a sheer face on the true left just before you reach the forks (take the true left branch.

By all accounts it is now just a wander down river to the hut. And that's pretty accurate - I even keep my feet dry.

A bit after 4.10 (40 mins from the ridge) there's a scree slip on the left - there's a large cairn near the base that marks something, possibly a route to the ridge although there's nothing obvious on the map.

Cairn

After about another 10 minutes a large stream joins from the right. The river gets larger and it's a pleasant wander in the afternoon sun with some decent flats. About half a K from the hut a couple of whio whistle at my presence and it's pretty cool to pause and watch them mucking about in the current.

5.20, Top Gorge Hut is empty and I've got time for a much needed wash.

A pretty wee moth has taken up residence and I carefully release it to the wilds of the woodshed.

Unsurprisingly, no one else turns up and I have the hut to myself.

The forecast for the next day is for rain so I get away by 7 am under grey skies. The river continues as usual for a while but soon starts getting a bit gorgy. There are a couple of points where you have to either get in deep, swim or clamber. There are supposed to be some traverses at key spots but I don't notice them and in all cases with a greater or lesser amount of acrobatics manage to clamber around close to the river without getting in above waist deep.

After about an hour, the end of the gorge section is very obvious, then it's just a long walk down river. The rain sets in.

On the way I come across two single whio. One bobs down river ahead of me until there's a wide pool and I can sidle past far enough away that s/he can drift back up river. It's always a bit of a worry that you'll inadvertently herd them out of their territory.

The river has a final surprise. I'm expecting the hut when I come to a sharp bend (left) with a deep pool between steep sides - there is no sidling, too deep to wade and I'm not keen on swimming. I suspect there is a bypass on the left up river that cuts off the whole bend but I can't be bothered going back to look. Instead, I scramble up through rotting trees over the ridge that blocks the river's course.

It's a little fraught as I have no idea how steep it is on the other side. As it turns out I have to sidle along a ways until I can climb down into the mouth of a good sized side stream.

Waterfall opposite LK hut

After that it is easy going again to Leon Kinvig Hut about 9.50 so almost three hours travel. It's easy to identify as there is a low waterfall/cascade on the right.

The rain has eased but I'm saturated - I get inside out of the cold and stand on my raincoat so as not to leave large pools on the floor. A couple of parties have been through since my name in the log two weeks back - one pair coming through yesterday heading over to Makaretu Hut - my next destination.  Around 10 am I head up the steep spur into the clag, wind and rain.

Near the bushline I bump in to two chaps coming down - sure enough they are the ones that came through LK yesterday and are on their way back from Makaretu Hut. They report that they came up the old track 'by accident' (not sure how you would manage that!) and that it's a bit easy to drift off but ok if you keep to the spur.

I should clarify. Last time through I was a bit surprised to come across two tracks from the ridge to Makaretu Hut - the northernmost is marked on the map, the southern isn't but I'm guessing it takes a more direct route down a spur directly to the hut. I'm thinking I'll take the longer, easier, newer route.

Above the bushline the wind is bowling into the ridge from the west. Most of the time the scrub provides reasonable protection and the track is wide and easy to follow. I potter along to the first track to Makaretu and just can't help myself - I have to take the more adventurous route.

The track drops off the ridge and immediately degenerates into an overgrown, slippery and poorly marked route. It clearly used to be good but it hasn't had any TLC for a while. It is not too bad to follow until the lower slopes where the spur broadens and I lose it once, twice and then completely. No drama though, I just potter along until I inevitably spit out beside the hut - about 12.10 pm.

The hut sits at the edge of a clearing and has options of heading up stream to Ngamoko road end, the two routes to the ridge or head down stream. It's in good order but I forego the shelter and have lunch on the deck, in the interests of keeping the floor dry. 

About 12.40 I drop from the clearing to cross the side stream and briefly follow the track to the ridge - just before it starts climbing there is a sign and a good track that heads down valley (i.e. you don't have to follow the stream right from the hut). 

There are frequent wee terraces and a trail across most of them so it is fairly quick going down valley. As I go, the clouds start to break and patches of sun come through. Just before the reaching the North Branch of the river there is a large orange triangle and a sign on the right. This marks a sidle track that climbs quickly away from the river than fossicks along high above it.

At one point it breaks into a grassy boggy area that has been well trampled by game. The trick is to angle up slope to the right and the continuation of the trail is soon found. Soon after the track starts drifting gently down on a wide track before popping out at a paddock and the Happy Daze Hut. About an hour from Makaretu Hut and 10 minutes from the junction.

This hut has definitely seen happier daze. It's pretty rudimentary inside but gets a bit of use and, judging from the log - abuse. It seems that there is four wheel drive access.

I take a break and read, then fill in the log before leaving about 1.55 to retrace my steps to the river junction.

After that it is a long wander up the North Branch. The river bed is often wide and open and it's now a hot sunny afternoon 

About 3.25 I see an orange triangle on the true left and about the same time see another orange hut on the true right - Awatere. I spread wet kit in the sun to dry as I fill in the log and grab a bite. A young couple wander up - they're from Auckland and have just come in from the carpark - less than an hour and a half away. I'm once more surprised about how good a condition a hut this close to a road end is in. They're staying here the night so will have a pleasant afternoon ahead of them in the sun by the river.

Awatere

I pack away my almost dry wet/cold weather gear, don sun screen and head across the river about 3.40. A very well made track dives into forest, crosses a creek then starts to climb on an increasingly open spur.

Looking back down the valley

The views down valley open up as I climb and the spur up to Longview is obvious. I think I can see the hut but there's a bit of cloud in the west.

Saddle just out of sight - spur to Longview runs up to left

To the south and east are some very barren looking hills. They remind me of Molesworth where a scab weed has taken over and almost nothing else grows on the tops. Here it looks like the soil has just blown away.

The track reaches the ridge then potters along into the teeth of the wind before dropping to the saddle and carpark - 47 minutes from Awatere Hut.

Postscript

It was a shame not to get around Sawtooth and Black Ridges - but it would have been foolish to try.  The Ruahine huts once again prove to be well looked after and comfortable with the exception of Happy Daze which is a bit older.

All parts of the trip were interesting and although the conditions were a bit challenging at times, it was nice to have views from the tops. The rivers provided most entertaining travel. All up, a great bit of real-estate with plenty of scope for adventure.