JACS Biv - Tararua

Every now and again Janine forgets what it was like last time we went tramping and suggests a trip.  This time we have Labour weekend and some loose plans to visit McGregor Biv, maybe the Shingle Slip Knob plane crash, and a few other possibilities in the area.  She has the sense to suggest that I can bugger off and do crazy things if I want but she is intent on enjoying a birthday weekend in the hills.

What:     Long weekend tramp
Where:   Shingle Slip Knob area
When:    22-24 October 2022
Who:      Janine

 

I swing past and pick her up and we're at a packed Holdsworth carpark on a clear and sunny morning ready to leave around half eight.

There's a lot of runners and walkers about and DOC has mounds of gravel to redo the tracks around Donnelly flats.  East Holdsworth Track is closed at the bottom but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary for the amble up to Atiwhakatu.   It takes a little under 2 hours - we're not in a hurry as we're planning to stay at Jumbo or MacGregor Biv.  

The Atiwhakatu logbook shows no-one has recorded intentions to head towards MacGregor Biv - a chap arrives who is heading to Mid-King Biv but that's the closest so far.

Part way up to Jumbo we come across a party that is enthralled by a kaka - it's mate had just flown off but this one sticks around for a bit and exchanges squawks with one of the group.   I hadn't heard that they had established in the ranges but have seen them in the past.  It's a bit ironic that you see them in central Wellington, but they are a rarity and a treat to see out here.

As we set out, I had alerted Janine to listen out for shining cuckoo, but they have so far made a fool of me with their absence.  I'm delighted though to hear one not too far off - we don't see it, but nothing says summer is coming quite so definitively.  

Just before the bushline there is the tiniest pieces of snow behind a couple of trees - a reminder that although we're heading towards summer, cold weather is never far away.  

Around 1:15pm we're at Jumbo which is well tied down now (it was closed sometime back for better wind protection).  There are bags of wood outside that have been recently choppered in - it seems an awful lot of cost and carbon but I guess it means that people don't try to harvest from the local forest.  

We arrive along side two largish parties - one is a family group (sounded European), and the other a group of retired army mates who are out for their annual bash in the bush.  They're good fun giving each other a hard time and delighted to discover that one of their number comes from the same part of the UK as Janine.  

Again, the log has no-one heading our way, so we decide to head on to MacGregor Biv.  Janine advises the groups that the bunk space she booked at Jumbo is available and we grab some lunch.  A chap turns up that is heading to the Biv but he says he's happy to stay in his tent.  We get under way again around 1.50 - a few clouds and coolish but still clear with good views.  

There is a steady trickle of people coming through including quite a few doing the circuit in a day.  Powell Hut is still closed for repairs following a lightening strike a few months back which may explain Powell being full.

I arrive at the intersection on Jumbo ahead of Janine and take the essential shot of what must be the most photogenic signpost in the Tararuas.  It's aging beautifully with the weather scouring the soft wood away to reveal the grain.  

A chap arrives from the Holdsworth ridge, he's thinking of staying at MacGregor but when he hears there's three others for the two bed biv he decides he will likely head on for Mid-King.  

Ridge to Mt Holdsworth

The chap from Jumbo (Steve) catches up with us and we chat - he seems to be getting back into tramping trying to fit it around work and family.  His gear is old school - not old, old school like wooden external frame pack, but early '90s and Fairy Down branded.  He's going about our pace and is happy to join up.  

It's easy enough travel along the ridge and we have no concerns about daylight as we sidle just below Angle Knob and head into the saddle before MacGregor.  The tiny dot of a sky lark whitters somewhere high above the saddle.  

It's quite an unusual treat to come through with full visibility - as we round the shoulder of the knob the view opens up ahead.  The main range with Nichols hut a bright dot reflecting the sun, Carkeek, Dorset and Tarn Ridges with Dorset hut just visible on the bushline.  As we drop down the spur towards the Biv the view north opens further.  This is the interior of the range - well travelled but few tracks marked on the map.  

Below us, the wee tarn on the ridge marks where to look right for the bright orange dot of the biv on the bushine.  

It's about quarter to six when we arrive at the biv.  I haven't seen any footprints and it turns out that the list visitors were three months back on 24 July.  It's a bit damp inside so we get it airing and I chuck the mattresses on some scrub to dry in the late afternoon sun.  

There's just enough space for Steve to pitch his tent and we get on with dinner prep.  Janine has quite a bit to do as she is going a bit gourmet.  Crackers and cheese go down a treat and we clamber up to the heli pad to watch the sun go down somewhere around Junction Knob.  Fantails catch the light as they flit above the canopy on the slopes below.

Steve is intending to head over the Broken Axe Pinnacles to Mid-King so is in no hurry in the morning.  We're going to head to the plane crash on Shingle Slip  Knob then split up - me to head down to Jacs Biv (or 'JACS' as apparently it is the first letters of the names of the guys that put it in).  I'm not sure what I'll do from there but outline a few options.  The good thing about my new GPS is that you can indicate a range of intentions and then ping your location home so they know which way you're going.  Janine will head back to Angle Knob and then see how much day is left and either go for a bit more of a walk or head straight to Jumbo hut.  

We get away for the climb back to the ridge just after 7am on a cool but not cold morning.   

 

At the ridge the sign to the Biv is a good spot to pause and admire the view.  Kapakapanui is emerging like the back of a whale above the morning cloud and the distinctive shape of Kapiti Island hovers above and beyond in the haze.  The peaks of the main range march to Mt Hector in the distance.   

About 8.20 we pause again on Angle Knob before dropping off the back towards the scrambly bit.  I've come up this way once but not down - on the basis of full disclosure I've been careful to describe it as accurately as I can for Janine: "It's a bit tricky in places."  I don't remember much except to keep to the north face and not drop over the south side.  Although that's exactly where the foot trail seems to head.  It must have been an animal trail as, despite casting around I can't find a route I'm comfortable to take someone else across.  Scrambling back to the ridge I slide down a wee chute and find a bit of a trail leading on along the face.    

We take it easy and thread a way down across the steep bits - a bit exposed in places but the footing is good and it's dry.  The highlight of the day, and possibly of the trip comes when a falcon drifts around the ridge riding an updraft.  I can see the yellow around its eyes as it checks us out before disappearing into the distance without a wing beat.  Later we see it as a small dot catching the sun as it cruises the bluffs in the headwaters of Angle Creek.  

With the steep bit out of the way we head on across the broad tussock slope below pt 1412. 

My recollection of the next bit is that it is hard to find and stick to a foot trail.  This is the case again but we find a path of least resistance as we drop to the wee tarn in the saddle before the short climb to Shingle Slip Knob. 

Around 1020 the site of the plane crash comes into view from pt 1348 - the silver metal catches the light and from here the shape of the plane is clear on the slope below the ridge.  Janine catches up and walks past with her head down completely missing the plane and me lying in the tussock. 

The first and last time here for me was in 2018 on a fun wee trip scrambling around some of the local spurs and creeks.  The weather is much better this time.  

We head over to the memorial crosses before dropping off the ridge to visit the crash site.  Last time the grey metal crosses merged into the grey clag making a somber scene.  This time is a complete contrast. 

We pop over the edge of the slope towards the crash site - it is a bit tricky as you are completely unsighted until you are virtually on it - I overshoot a little and end up having to cross some steep scrubby channels to work my way back while Janine finds a more direct route.   

It's as I remember it - the tail section quite recognisable, the wings laid out on each side and mashed bits of the cockpit in between.  An engine with broken propeller in front.  Tussock and leatherwood is growing through holes in the wings.  My previous post on this has an old photo that shows how much the elements have eroded the wreckage.

 

This is where we part ways - I leave Janine taking photos after outlining my intentions.  I'll either see her at the hut tonight or at the car tomorrow arvo.   My plan is to follow the same spur down to pt 736 that I took on the last trip - then drop to the river to visit the Biv.  From there - we'll see.

A slightly scrubby sidle around the slope takes me to the spur running WSW from the ridge near the marked shingle slip.  There is a bit of low leatherwood and scrub to negotiate but I get down to the bushline easily enough.  Once in the trees the slope is broad and it is easy to drift too far north.  I cut back SW through cutty grass and soon enough pick up a bit of a foot trail on the spur - not strong and no old markers that I notice. 

The spur drops steeply then swings SW and eases.  It's nice travel along the broad top in mature forest.  I cheat and use the GPS to confirm when I start dropping steeply west as I don't want to miss the wee saddle by pt 736.  

At Pt 736 I'm aiming to be clever and take the wee wrinkle of a spur running parallel and just south of the main spur to the marked stream junction.  I'm thinking this will come out with the least river travel required to the Biv.  I realise I've muffed it when my compass leads me to the edge of a deep gully.  Ah well, I back off and take potluck scrambling down the steep face of the valley.  Sunlight on water through the trees reveals I'm on a cliff edge that I won't be climbing down.  I sidle along the slope, scramble through a stream gully and eventually find a way down to the water edge.  It's just after 1pm and it has taken about 2 hours from the crash site.

 

It's always a pleasure sitting by a river that you know not many people get to visit - not quite the wilderness experience you get in parts of the South Island but on a day like this with sun glinting on the water it's pretty special. 

I figure I am downstream of the biv but in the interests of time confirm with the GPS.  It looks like I've come out just upstream of the big slip marked on the map.  I cross the river and work my way up, passing opposite another smaller slip face also on the true left that has bush regrowing on it.  

There's a bit of grass on the true left river edge here and I figure the Biv must be close.  I cross the river to peer into the bush and am soon rewarded by the site of framing up on a wee terrace in the bush.

The framing is in front of the biv and I assume intended to take a tarp cover to extend the living space.  Someone has tied a tarp over the biv itself.  It's a cheerful spot in the heat of the day and I'm happy to sit in the biv doorway to eat my lunch.  It's a little moldy but tidy, I can't find a hut book which may be why some idiots have scratched their name and dates on the door.  I'd quite happily sleep here but that won't be the case today.

I have a few options but most of them involve lots of river crossings and some involve swimming.  All of them involve a long climb at some point.  In the end I do what I suspected I would be doing all along - head back the way I came so I can check that Janine got back past Angle Knob ok.  

I get on the way again at 2.10 - heading up to the marked stream junction and disturbing a family of goats on the way.  I find the stream and top up my water, then notice that there looks like another stream cascading into the river a little further up.  I don't go to investigate as I figure getting up to 736 is just a question of following my nose.  It could be that the stream splits shortly before hitting the river.  It's a little messy and steep at the start but soon I am slowly grinding up the well shaped spur and reach pt 736 at 3pm.  

There's no marking for the spur but if you're heading down and take a bearing for the spur from this tree and keep the steep slope on your right you should be fine. 

It's a bit of a grind back up but at least I don't need to spend time navigating.  When I get to the bushline I follow along the edge a little way and find an animal trail that takes an easy way through the leatherwood.  The day is still sublimely clear but the wind is getting up beyond what was forecast.

In my mind, I've broken the trip back into three challenges - getting from the bushline to the top through the scrub, the tussock face from the tarn to pt 1412 (I had a miserable trip up there last time), and the scramble up to Angle Knob - after that it should be a doddle along the ridge and down to Jumbo. 

It takes 25 minutes to work up the 150m through scrub and tussock to the top of Shingle Slip Knob and is not as bad as anticipated.  5pm, about 2 hours 20 from leaving the river.  On the tops the wind is becoming quite a nuisance - the possibility of bivvying out is not looking like a goer - depending on how things go I might be making it into Jumbo by torchlight.   

 

At the tarn I follow closer to the southern side of the slope (right looking up), and it seems easier than last time when I came up the middle.  The wind is now buffeting and I'm having to be careful about balance.  But the route is familiar from this morning, and I make good pace along the steep sides of the pinnacles leading up to Angle Knob.  A final slow scramble up a tussocky slot and I'm on the top.  6pm so I'm looking good for daylight.    

Back towards Shingle Slip Knob on the right

I'm feeling pretty cocky as I get onto the foot trail leading down off Angle Knob - this is short lived; as soon as I am out of the lee of the knob the wind comes in hard up from Francis Creek and gets stronger.  I can still maintain a reasonable pace but have to be careful about my footing.  In the saddle before 1397 though it is smashing through and I have a great deal of trouble walking.  Soon I'm being pushed to my knees and shoved off the track.  The wind pummels and bullies me along the ridge, as I grab handfuls of tussock (and Spaniard) to stop from being tipped over.  

It should drop once I get in the lee of Pukeahurangi (Jumbo).  And it does for a few minutes - but it comes back again.  By the time the hut hoves into sight I'm battered and buggered.  

Phew

Kicking off boots I head in to see if there is a spare bunk.  Janine advises that there is, and cheerfully informs me that she didn't think I'd make it tonight so she's just finished all the chocolate dipped strawberries.  She does however take pity and makes sure I have hot water to get dinner underway and a few shots of brandy to revive flagging spirits.

She has also had a tough time on the way back - first finding the way up Angle Knob and with the wind on the ridge.  Sensibly, she didn't do any diversions but concentrated on getting to the hut.  

From being fully booked the hut is only half full and through some fluke there are no snorers.  It's a noisy enough night though with the wind buffeting the hut and the new stay wires doing their business to stop it blowing away.  

In the morning there is no particular hurry, and we head off around 8.35am after a bit of tidying.  The wind is soon left behind and it's a pleasant and uneventful wander to the valley floor and out to the carpark by 12.15pm. 

And that's it.  The only red line for me was the briefest bit into the Waiohine River but I'm pleased to finally get to Jacs biv which was a delightful wee spot on a sunny day.  Janine ticked off a number of milestones and time will tell how long before the scars and memories fade enough for her to suggest another trip.   

Northern Coromandel

I'm needing to use up a bit of leave - initially I thought it might be interesting to make a start at the Te Aroroa Trail but the more I looked at the northern section the less interested I got.  

After a lot of uming and ahing I plump for an exploration trip in the Coromandel.  I'm definitely not fit and have little idea of what the terrain is like - and what I can find on the internet is not that encouraging.  However, the main goal is to get out of circulation for a while and see what turns up.

The plan is to maintain options for a prolonged trip without needing to pop into towns - consequentially I'm packed and could do 12 days if needed.  

What:     Off track wander
Where:   Northern Coromandel
When:     5 - 10 October 2022
Who:      Solo

Getting there

After work on Friday I get the final packing done ready to head north early in the morning.  It's a straight forward trip.  At the obligatory stop at the Taihape outdoor shop I find myself buying a new top and pair of boots that I hadn't realised I needed - I have a lot of treasured pieces of kit acquired here in this manner.  

I also swing into Taupo for lunch and to pick up a couple of other odds and ends.  One is a silicon zip seal pouch for preparing dehy (to save weight I have decanted all meals out of the foil lined pouches into zip lock bags).  I am singularly unsuccessful in finding anyone on the way that can sell me Coromandel topo maps.  Fortunately I have printed what I need.

I pick up the support crew in a quiet and gray Thames - she has just bused down from Auckland having attended a funeral.  We head north along the peninsular to Coromandel town - last time through for me was on my bike on the way to the ferry at Takoma.  

We're booked in at the Angler's Lodge near Colville so stop for dinner in Coromandel (Wharf Road).  The accommodation is good and the hosts really helpful.  I spend the evening waxing the new boots and getting familiar with my new Garmin Inreach Mini-2.  

In the morning we head north and onto the Port Jackson Road.  This is ok for 2WD and takes us along the coast and eventually to Port Jackson where there is a DOC campsite by the beach.  It's quite a large area so it must be pumping in summer.  Just to say we've done it - we head further along to the end of the road at Fletcher Bay - and another DOC campsite.  

On the way back we stop at the top of the hill where the Muriwai walk meets the road - there's a track up the hill marked on the map.  Hopefully the start of my trip south - the support crew waves as I head off.

Day one - Cape Colville to Moehau

There are a few DOC markers so this must be a recognised walk.  It leads upwards along farm tracks with views back down a long spur to Cape Colville and out to Aotea (Great Barrier Island).  It's overcast and clag hides the hills above.

 

After a long and slightly tedious time I've followed the farm track to where it sputters to an end near pt 708.  There's a few bits where a compass check is required but it is mostly fairly straightforward.  It's about 11.50.

Near pt 708 looking up ridge

Off the farmland it's nicely regenerating bush and a well marked pest control trail along the narrow ridge.  It's looking good as I rock smugly along.  Until the trail sidles off the ridge and starts heading down a spur.  I can't find any sign of a trail going in my direction so after a bit of casting about start a scrub bash up towards pt 857.  

It looks like there might have been a pest control trail in the past but it is long overgrown and it's a draining scrub bash through a wee saddle and up the steep slope.  At 2.20 I collapse exhausted on a solid trail with lots of markers on the ridge top. 

 

It's completely clagged in but it's a simple matter of a left turn to follow the ridge down then up and down to the climb to Moehau.  I rock along for a while until I lose the trail - a check of the compass gives a completely unintuitive reading.  I mull over things for a bit and reluctantly retrace my steps and do some proper map work.  Yep - I missed the right route somehow and have veered onto a spur.  A bit more application and I find the correct route - apart from a brief sortie down the left spur at the clearing past 856.   From the saddle there is a climb to a it of a plateau with some sort of installation and a plaque (which I didn't record the details of).   

From here it is a bit of a climb up towards Moehau.  I find a pest control trail that starts veering left (east) and initially miss another one that zags backup towards the top.  This is where I come across a faded sign DOC sign requesting no travel further along the ridge top because it is wahi tapu (some significant individuals were buried up here for a windy sleep) and to preserve the ecology.  

This is a bit of a set back.  I had thought I had checked for closures but hadn't noticed that this area was restricted.   I peer around the south side and quickly decide a bypass sidle through that steep scrubby territory is out of the question.  I plump for option two which is to follow the pest control trail down and hope that there is a connector trail running across the north eastern face of Moehau.  

I've just about resigned myself to dropping all the way to Stony Bay when I stumble on J line.  This is an old line that seems to be heading in the right direction.  I follow it along as daylight starts to dim.  The odd stream provides water and shortly after one of these I find the first flattish part of track that looks like I can set up the fly - it is promptly nominated as home for the night.  

It has been a bit of a tough day - the usual camp routine keeps me occupied until lights out and I can lie in the dark listening to the sounds of the bush reflecting on just how unfit I have become.  It starts to rain during the night and I am pleased that I have my bivvy bag as well as the fly.  

Day two - Moehau to Waikawau Bay

In the morning I have a bit of a lie in but it's soon clear that the weather isn't about to.  I head off around 8.50 and inside of 15 minutes reach the end of J line.  The new line (Y I think) is running up hill in the direction I would be aiming to take to get to the ridge.  I assume it has come up via pt 609.  

End of J line and onto Y line

The line takes me through a mix of forest, scrub and semi-alpine scrub.  It would be tough territory without a trail to follow.   It's claggy, drizzly and a bit cold - but I'm sort of enjoying it.

The line starts running across the face of the flat ridge and I'm hoping there will be a line cutting off left to follow the ridge.  I find an old one that is pretty overgrown - in retrospect I suspect there was a more recent one not further along.  Anyway - I follow it along and down and am stunned to suddenly pop out in front of a hut.  

It looks like a DOC biosecurity hut that has not been used in a while.  It smells like the rats have had a free run - I turf one out the door that hadn't made it.  I shelter from the weather for a while and study the map on the wall that marks old pest lines.  It's not quite detailed enough to be useful.  I arrive at the hut around 10.15 and stay for a while but don't note the time of reluctant departure.  

The next section is a bit confusing in the clag - I make my way across to the main ridge and along to pt 680.  I'm aiming to follow a slightly complex ridge system to Port Charles Road and hoping that there will be trails most of the way.  

I find myself on a spur that runs towards pt 563 but runs into untracked scrub so cut across a wee stream and through some pretty manky vegetation to eventually find a stronger trail that takes me on to pt 627.  A bearing from here has me on stronger trails that take me all the way to pt 346.

At some point through here it has continued to not stop raining but the route does start following a fence.  There's a broad clay track which is somewhat slick but it does mean that progress speeds up.  Eventually, I pop out at a site where a new communications mast is being installed and follow a 4WD track down to the road at the 'saddle' - 4.30pm.  

The day starts to clear as I wander down the gravel road.  A couple of Ks in to the walk a car pulls up and a couple offer me a lift which I gratefully accept (after checking they are ok with a soggy tramper in their backseat).   They live in a local commune and are heading through to Coromandel - they go out of their way to drop me to Waikawau Bay but we are stymied when we discover the river has taken over the road.  I wade through and across the bridge and continue to plod along the road to the next flooded section.  

It's getting dim by the time I get to the deserted DOC campsite at 5.30.  I do the thing with the form and the box and search out a couple of trees I can hang the fly from.  It's a huge camp site and no-one else is visible so I comandeer a toilet cubicle to hang gear to drip then get water boiling for soup and dehy.  

The silicon pouch is working tolerably well - it gets a bit too floppy when you pour boiling water directly into it but it seals well enough that I can tuck it in my jacket or (very carefully) between my feet in the sleeping bag.

A bit of rain in the night but it clears before morning and I wake to a cloudless day.  

Day three - half day rest and on to ?

I decide to take an easy run at the day by getting everything dried and having a bit of a wander around the campsite.  The site itself is extensive and there are one or two other inhabitants that I didn't notice in the evening.  A DOC planting crew turn up and set to work at one end and in a closed section across the road.   

The deserted beach is a short stroll away.  

I get away at 1pm planning to head up the Matamataharakeke track from the bay and follow the main ridge south.  All good except the track has a sign that it is closed due to track damage or something.  There is also a Kauri die back boot cleaning station.  I scrub up as required and head along the track.  There is a bit of bank that has been undercut by the stream - but nothing dangerous.  I cross the stream and follow a well formed track upwards.  It eventually pops out on farmland and pt 344 with views back to Waikawau Bay - about 2.45pm.  

There's a foot trail heading south west across the pasture to pt 364 and beyond.  The pasture turns into scrub with an old farm track running along the ridge.  Long story short - the track crosses more farmland, turns into a bulldozed track through bush which winds and climbs along the ridge.  Somewhere after pt 541 I run out of energy and start running out of daylight.  I find a site to pitch the fly among punga beside the road and bash down to find where a wee stream starts to form to get water.  

The night is uncannily quiet without a breath of wind.  

Day three - ? to near pt 573

Another slow start on a fine day.  I continue to follow the 4WD track - it's wide and there are motorbike tracks of various ages.  There are also some home made signs indicating someone might be using this on a commercial basis.   In the bush white sprays of clematis flowers are are a reminder of the season. 

 

Further along the ridge there's a junction - a communication mast off to the right - the main ridge continuing to the left, but less well travelled.  Still easy walking though.

There is pig rooting and areas of old pine - also periodic views south towards Coromandel town and the gulf.  

In the saddle past pt 501 there looks like a track leading up towards pt 469, I stay on the old road though hoping that as it sidles Tokatea there will be enough catchment to form some small streams.  This proves to be the case so I can fill up - one of them even has an ancient trough where perhaps horses were watered when mining or logging was in full swing.

I'm pottering along in a bit of a dream when a figure with a gun looms ahead.  I think we're both a bit surprised - I give a cheerful greeting and we get to yarning.  Turns out that I'm on private land - he's ok with my presence once he works out that I'm not hunting or growing dope and show every sign of being a genial but slightly gormless tramper.  He's clearly not the landowner but has a long association with the area and with this block.  We cover a lot of conversational territory while his dog says hello then  gets bored with the conversation.  I learn about where he has lived in the area, how the land has changed, how he has looked after some of the pigs to make sure there is a steady supply, where he and his missus went on holiday recently and the need to be careful about mine shafts when you're off track in the ranges (he lost a dog down one once - and you wouldn't wish that sort of death on ... well).  

The time gets on and eventually I apologise that I have probably disturbed any game he may have seen (but I hadn't seen any fresh sign this morning), he says it's fine and he gives me some pointers about the route ahead.     

Soon after saying good bye the track spits me out on Kennedy Bay Road (or Drivers Creek Road - depending on what side of the saddle you're standing) around 11.45.  I cross and follow a steepish gravel road towards pt 557 and the start of the Kaipawa Trig Track. 

The Trig Track means I'm on public land - or at least land with agreed access.  The track is a bit rough after so much 4WD walking and I take it fairly easy getting to the Trig for lunch around 12.50.  With the scrub and regrowing bush there's no view from the Trig but a short way down I can sit on the track and look out over Coromandel Town. 

Looking at the map I suspect there is an old track from the trig that cuts off a big down hill and sidle - I note some old cut branches but decide to follow the markers for now - there might be a good reason for the long cut.  The mine warning signs could have something to do with it I guess.

The track sidles as indicated on the map, passing some old mine openings then joins a 4WD track and follows the ridge down to Whangapoua Road - 2.20pm.

The next section of range is on a forestry road.  There is a sign about access but there is clearly no logging in the area so I proceed upwards along a wide and solid road.  The road leaves the ridge so I follow an old bulldozed further up to a knob with a mast on it.  

Casting around I can't find any indication of a trail heading along the ridge.  This is a bit of a downer as the bush is regenerating and is very dense.  It's 3pm so still a bit of daylight so I duck and weave between the supple jack stems.  After a bit I start seeing old bits of tape and triangles - there was a pest control trail along here but it's not been used for a while except for by pigs.  

It's slow and painful - with plentiful kiekie and supplejack.  Sundown catches up with me somewhere between pt 561 and 573.  There's little flat space and even less water.  I keep going looking for a place to pitch the fly - in the end having to settle for kicking a flat spot among pig rootings on a rocky slope.  It's reasonably open so I head down until I find water trickling out of the rocks and tie the fly to supple jack stems.     

There's so much pig sign I wonder about them getting into my pack during the night - common sense suggests they will keep well clear though.  

The last of the sun slants orange light through the canopy and it's another dead calm night.  After soup and dinner I drift off - muscles twitching with fatigue.

Home for the night

Day four - near pt 573 to near Motutere

It's slightly demoralising waking in the middle of a ridge covered in regen bush knowing that the morning will be a rinse and repeat of yesterday afternoon.  Still - the morning sun is a bit more cheerful and occasionally there are breaks in the bush for views across to Whangapoua Harbour.  

Travel is as the day before - tight bush and windfall for about an hour until a mast appears ahead.  I figure it is the end of the ridge just past 573.  

The mast looks like it is abandoned - the batteries are not connected and the solar panels look old and had it.  Standing on tip toes I can get a bit of view across Coromandel Harbour.  It feels like it is taking an awfully long time to get past it.

The map suggest there could be three routes down from here but I can only find a bit of a trail heading in one direction - it isn't my preferred but in this country you take what you can get.  It winds east and a little south to eventually pop out on the side of a marked forestry road around grid ref 287264.  

The road is less travelled than others but still well made and solid.  Someone has been through on a motorbike but it is quiet.  It's 10:30 as I set off up the road to follow it around to the main range and pick up another road heading south.

On the near horizon an iconic rock formation dominates - it can only be castle rock.  The road winds towards it - each corner giving new angles.  

Although pleased to be out of the regen bush I'm soon a bit tired of plodding along hard roads.  However it is giving good progress.  As the road approaches then skirts Castle Rock it looks like good rock climbing potential but I can't see obvious tracks leading into the bush at its foot.  

The road drops to a gate which motorbikers are obviously bypassing then reaches a stream as marked on the map - the stream has a large pond above the road, possibly for fire fighting purposes.  Also a large pile of rubbish where some toe-rag has figured they don't want to pay tip fees.  

The intersections don't quite match the map but I'm soon heading east and climbing to the south side of Castle Rock.  There's a sign indicating that it is iwi owned and requesting that people don't proceed to the rock for safety reasons.  I decide I don't need the climb so instead follow the forestry on along the ridge towards pt 470.

Beyond 470 is a large of block of land surrounded by steep country and bluffs.  Somewhere up there is Motutere.  From a distance it looks like the west face is impassible.  I'm hoping to be able to follow the ridge up to pt 563 - it looks steep but doable on the map, although as I get closer it looks worryingly bluffy.

The solid road runs out about where marked on the map but an old road continues skirting below 470.  I pick a spot and leave the track to climb steeply to the saddle.  Then south towards 563 along a sharp ridge.  There's an animal trail but no sign that people come this way.  The trail ends on grass below a rocky face - upwards is out of the question so I fossick around the corner to find more exposed face.  Checking downwards to see if I can skirt below the bluffs reveals more sketchy scrambles and no certainty of a route up.

I sit and think in the sun for a bit then reluctantly accept that this is a dead end.  The only options are to drop to a forestry road and do a long bypass below Motutere to the west, or to drop over the ridge to the east and see if I can find a route up on that side.  

It's rough country below the ridge - thick bush with steep loose scree underfoot from the faces above.  The bush is lush and the understory rotting with generous amounts of supplejack.  I do bump into a kauri though - the first large one I have seen so far - I keep well away from it's base.  

There's no sign of trails so I make my way along and down aiming to skirt below the cliffs and find my way to the marked stream which looks like it might be scalable.  

That's one very broad leaf

It's very slow and careful going but I eventually reach a sizable stream cut into the landscape.  Scrambling down I have a good drink and start climbing.  It gets steeper and steeper and smaller and smaller.  I eventually leave the water course to follow a bit of a spur upwards.  It's hand over hand through the ubiquitous supplejack - utterly draining with a heavy pack.  Eventually there is a bit of a window and I can triangulate on the knobs on the opposite ridge (SE of pt 470).  This reveals that I am not in the stream I was aiming for but climbing the precipitous faces in the gully just short.   

Just climb up through that lot then keep doing it for an hour or two

I'm committed now so keep climbing until I hit bare, vertical rock.  Skirting below there's fresh fallen material from above that provides a platform to scramble over to reach a gully that seems like it might provide a way up.  In this way I keep climbing up and around obstacles until the slope starts to ease.  I pop out into forest which eases up to a ridge edge.  I'm not sure where I am but soon get a window towards Coromandel Harbour - it seems that I have rejoined the main ridge somewhere above the bluffs I had backed off from earlier.  There's some ground trail but probably animal that leads me up to pt 563.

There's the very old remains of a trail but well overgrown now.  I decide to follow wherever it goes as going anywhere else in this scrubby country is going to be painful.  It turns out to follow a spur south from pt 563 and eventually drops to the headwaters of the Motutere stream.  I can't say I am still on any trail at this point but decide to cross and camp at the first flat spot.  

I keep climbing east and there are absolutely no flat spots to be seen until I reach the ridge.  I'm downright grumpy by now - the constant battle with the vegetation, the glacial progress and the amount of private land is not what I had anticipated.  I pitch the fly low amongst grasses on the ridge top and settle down to the evening routine.

 

Day five - near Motutere to Coromandel Town

It's another quiet night despite the exposed location.  In the morning I am hopeful that there might be  an old trail along the ridge top - there isn't.  It is just more struggling through supplejack and trying to keep to the ridge line.  I retain some hope that there might be something when I get near Motutere as it is a named point that people might have travelled to.  

After a ridiculously painful struggle through the wee saddle I find there is a bit of trail heading south west from Motutere.  It's easy to lose though - and I soon find myself heading down too steeply in a westerly direction.  I sit  and think - there's a trail I can follow here and I am low on water ... but it is not taking me where I want to go and it's likely there is a stronger trail that I just missed on the ridge above.  In the end the need for water wins and I continue down. 

By the time the spur spits me out by a stream that promptly disappears over a sharp drop, the trail has disappeared.  I fill up with water and pick the least worst option that is heading in the approximately right direction.  

It is relentless.  I've long given up any idea of trying to return to the ridge but just keep trying to head south knowing that I will eventually reach a top.  When I do, I work out that I am on the wee knob east of 442 and there is a spur that I should be able to follow to a stream below the Waiau Summit track.  

It's pretty much more of the same but eventually I pop out by the stream.  I follow it up for a while before reaching a bit of a cascade where I leave it and scramble up a steep slope towards (I hope) the track.  

It's an immense pleasure to see the piece of orange tape that heralds the track.  I can walk freely and cover a bit of ground.  By this time I have been mulling over the next part of the planned trip - get to Mahakirau Road and follow it along the range and back into untracked bush for who knows how many days before reaching the next road.  I also catalogue the bruises and chaffs accumulated from the trip so far.  

Standing on the track it's decision time - left takes me to Mahakirau Road for fourish K of road walking then back into the bush - right takes me down to the 309 Road to hitch in to Coromandel.  I turn right.

The track winds along the hillside and down to where it joins a thoroughly civilised gravel path with actual signs.  There is a kauri grove with board walks so I pay a brief visit to the impressive trees before popping out on the side of a large gravel road. 

I've walked about a K and a half of dusty road when I hear a car behind and half heartedly stick a thumb out.  The car stops and the woman offers me a lift - apologising for the pong I gratefully accept.

She has just been dropping her son (who had been playing up) at his father's on the other side of the peninsula.  We have a good yarn about this and that and nothing in particular.  Apparently the 309 road is so named because that's how many minutes it took by horse to ride it.  We do a short detour to pick up her tea at the mussel farm then she drops me at the Top 10 in Coromandel.  

I must reek as I stand at the counter; foot sore, battered and dusty.  A short transaction later though I am heading to my unit for a long shower.

Postscript

So, not the most successful trip.  Some good views and sections of bush but really not worth the aggravation of all that supplejack and restrictions on access.  I suspect it gets a bit better further south but I'm not in a hurry to find out - reckon I'll be doing a good few trips south before I come back. 

On the gear front - the silicon pouch worked out ok for dehy rehy, the walls got a bit thin when boiling water was poured in though so I'm on the look out for a better version.  The penny stove used 190mm for the trip - I'll keep using it.  The hunters element boots from Taihape worked fine - lighter than my Zamberlans but seem pretty robust.  Some pressure points on the top of my feet which were mitigated by not lacing through all of the eyelets.