Northern Crossing - Tararua range

The trauma from our last excursion has faded sufficiently for Janine to suggest another sortie into the hills.  This time the Northern Crossing with some possible side trips.  The weather is looking a bit dismal - showers, clag and a bit of wind, but not cold.  We're also doing a car swap.  This always complicates logistics and restricts options - it also allows through trips which are tricky when solo tramping.     

Initially, I harbour thoughts of nicking off on my own to find the North King plane crash but give it away as a further complication that we can do without.  It will keep.

 
What:    Traditional W-E Northern Crossing 
Where:  Northern Tararua Range
When:   3 - 5 February 2023
Who:      Janine and Mike

Original plans for a Thursday night walk into South Ohau are scuppered by my work commitments so we head up the coast (via the Waikanae bakery of course) on Friday morning.  There's one ute at the carpark - a hunter.  We head off at 8.45am - the aim is to get to Arete tonight, but we have plenty of time up our sleeves for the weekend.  

We potter up the gorge track as usual with one variation.  There's a wee bit of treefall on the track - mostly old.  Janine  is in front and negotiates an unremarkable vine tangled tree cantered over the track.  I'm next and don't even touch it as I duck around - suddenly the world goes black, and something gives me an almighty clout on the head.  It takes a moment to work out that, with immaculate timing, the tree gave way just as my head entered the fall zone.  I've got an instant headache that lasts a few days but no other damage.  It's the sort of rare event that it's tricky to mitigate in a risk assessment. 

A little further on a couple of keen dogs with aerials precede a hunter - he's in after pigs but no luck today.  We exchange pleasantries and continue.  The slip shortly before the bridge near Gable End is more stable now and no problem to negotiate.  

I've decided to take the Gable End track as I don't fancy riverbed travel in running shoes.  I'm comfortable if the others head up the river but Mike and Janine go with the flow and at 10.25am we start the steep climb.

By the time we get to the ridge line and start undulating along over the knobs, and through scrub, and mossy forest, it's clear that we'll be pressed for time to get to Arete.  Still, plenty of time in the weekend so we keep pottering along.   

I don't mind this section of track - it's a bit boggy in places but the sections of open scrub give some nice variation and views.  Although today the clag obscures any sight of the Waiopehu Ridge.  What is surprising is the amount of cell phone reception, I'm used to going onto airplane mode and only using it for photos, so the ability for Mike to finish downloading the entire Tararua 1:50K map is novel.          

At 2.50pm we reach the intersection with the track from Waiopehu Hut to Te Matawai.  It's a lot later than we had anticipated so we have a quick bite for lunch before continuing.  To Janine and my great amusement, we discover that Mike is carrying a bag of fresh carrots - and not a small one either.  He has a 75L pack that is looking quite full, and it becomes a matter of some speculation just what will emerge next.  

Mike doing his best to rally the troops

On the way to Te Matawai a couple of TA walkers steam past from behind.  They've come up from the Outdoor Pursuits centre today and are set for Te Matawai, one more of their number is following apparently but she doesn't catch-up before we get to the hut.

It's still damp and claggy when we get there at 5.30pm, but still not cold.  

We're relieved to find that there are only three others in the hut tonight so far.  The two TA blokes are in situ - they aren't very communicative, so we largely keep to ourselves.  Their companion, Pia, turns up a little later, she's from Germany (or was it Switzerland?) and is much more interactive.  This is despite Mike reading out loud something written in colloquial French in the logbook - she admits to understanding it but slightly pointedly doesn't offer to translate.  Oh, and he was also trying to remember the name of a type of bird and accidentally kept saying whore in Italian and she clearly understood that too.  

It's surprisingly tidy for a TA hut - although the woodshed is completely empty as usual.  Not that we need a fire.  

Dinner is very civilised with a French Pate starter and a can of red wine to share (from Mike's pack).  Mike discovers that he is carrying a cooker and gas cannister he didn't intend to bring - also a sun hat and various other items.  

As well as a fair amount of derision, this prompts a discussion of packing philosophies - Mike's approach is to start with a pack that already has the stuff he had on his last trip, then add what he needs this time, chuck in a few luxuries, then a few last-minute things he grabs on the way.  I start with an empty pack, lay out everything I need then see if I can take a few things out.  The net result is probably 30% difference in pack weight, but he is very popular as various delicious things emerge from the murky depths during the course of the day.   This time I've magnanimously volunteered to carry his whisky, which, in an uncharacteristic fit of weight-thrift is in a plastic bottle. 

There are some interesting dynamics in the TA group.  I hear one of the blokes saying to Pia that they've talked and worked out the plan for the following day.  It comes across a bit high-handed, but Pia is polite and the next day informs them that she thinks their intention to get to Maungahuka is too optimistic given the forecast and what they know about the terrain.   Consequently, they hare off up the trail in the morning and she chats to us and leaves at a more leisurely pace.  

It's still clagged in in the morning at 7.15am as we head along the boggy track leading to the climb to Pukematawai.  The plan is to get up to Arete Biv (or Arete Hut, depending on how old you are) and assess whether our first side option is a goer - Bannister.  With clag around the tops and the pace yesterday it's not likely we will have the time or a view if we do make it - however, that's a decision for later.  

The clag soon breaks, and we have blue skies for a while on the way up.  This gives us views back to the slowly dwindling red roof of the hut, and the chance to orient ourselves in relation to our route from Girdlestone Saddle to the point above North Ohau Hut from our previous trip in these parts.  The clag soon returns though with a brief possibility of a spectre of the brocken.  

By the time we get to the sign on the main range (10am) it's well settled in - but not cold.  We tick off the knobs to Arete (11ish) and take a moment to hunker in the tussock and take a bearing.  I've not come from this direction before in clag but am well aware of the joys of finding Arete Hut from above - the face is broad and there are various cairns, old stakes and foot trails.  The hut itself is tucked behind a wee rise and is not visible until the last moment.  My tactic is to find the tarn and head around the right side.  Mike and Janine are less confident that we'll get there, and I notice the odd surreptitious GPS check going on behind me.      

At 11.30am we regroup at the hut and with the clag firmly settled, we agree that the side trip to Bannister is off the table.  There are two options for tonight - Dorset Ridge Hut or Tarn Hut.  The latter is officially a shelter not a hut at the moment due to water damage, but by all accounts, tenable.  The former is on Janine's bucket list.

There's cell phone coverage so people get busy with their various social media, and we discover that Angela has a massive gash in her foot having dismounted a paddle board onto a sharp shell.  Fortunately, in the company of an ED charge nurse.  There's not much to be done from here apart from sending sympathetic messages and trying to unsee the graphic photos she posts.

Mike whips up some miso soup while I check the logbook.  I'd been through shortly before the Myer's search and I'm interested to see what is recorded.  

Myers search

Myers was the chap that embarked on a solo Northern Crossing on 28 May 2019 with a forecast for deteriorating conditions - he was reported missing on 2 June and after 11 days searching in crap weather, was eventually found at the bottom of a waterfall in the creek that comes from the Arete basin.  He had stayed at Arete Biv on the night of 29 May and texted his wife about the poor weather the next morning before setting out.  It seems that he discovered conditions along the tops too bad to continue and either decided to drop to Arete stream or accidentally did so - with or without returning to the biv.  The search parties found footprints near the hut which suggested he quickly abandoned the idea of getting to Tarn Hut, and a chocolate wrapper of a type he had purchased a way down the stream.  Searchers had been in the area, but it was a helicopter overflight that eventually found him.  

The tragedy was much on my mind at the time given it involved a solo tramper in an area I had been a fortnight before in rough conditions.  I recall reading the log at the time and noticing quite a few entries from people who had had to return to the hut and hole up because of the weather, also the odd reference to people traveling down Arete Stream to Arete Forks Hut.  I've always wondered if these led him to try the stream route.  I've also wondered if he had written in the hut log - it turns out the first entry after mine on 18 May is the SAR team on 3 June.  

I've thought about his decisions (based on what info I could find) in terms of those that led to the outcome and those that led to a prolonged, costly search - and the lessons for my decision making.   I guess the key decisions were route choices in light of the weather forecast, abilities, and experience in the specific environment.  Perhaps wearing running shoes while descending a steep and slippery catchment may have contributed (noting that running shoes are a common footwear choice and he didn't intend at the outset to take that route).  

If he had companions would the outcome have been different?  Slipping on a descent can just as well happen in a group with the same outcome - group decision making may well have meant that he didn't attempt that descent, but I don't think that is a given by any stretch (group think and risk threshold shift can lead groups to make risky decisions).  In short, I don't think that being on his own was determinative in the outcome.  It would be a different story though if he had only been injured in the fall - in that situation a group can call help and prevent exposure. 

The cost and length of the search would almost certainly have been considerably less had he noted in the log that he was heading down the stream.  However, he may not have had the intention to follow the stream at any point that he was in the biv and ended up there by accident or after being unable to regain the biv. Either way, good practice is to always write in the log even if you've been able to text.  

He also apparently didn't provide an intentions sheet for his trip.  Again, this is good practice but it's not clear to me if this made a difference to the search.  He apparently said he would come out at Holdsworth, but I don't know if this included any details of the route (e.g., via Mitre and Barton, down Baldy, or Jumbo or Mt Holdsworth etc).  On a multi-day trip it would be a very long intentions sheet indeed if you noted every possible escape route - but it's worth considering how a reasonable level of detail can help SAR focus their resources.  Other benefits of a good intentions sheet include providing a concise summary that can be emailed to SAR and prompting you to think about the specific mix of risks on a trip and how you intend to mitigate them.

These things are all running through my head - largely based on speculation of course, but salient reminders to think about what I record on my intentions sheets and in logbooks, and decision making on solo trips.

 

It's a bit cooler now with a bit of wind so we add the odd layer and head into the grey about 12.50pm.

It's mostly easy following the route along this bit, I check compass and map once on the way off pt 1389 to avoid diverting to a wee knob to the right.  On the next uphill we keep an eye out for where to embark on a side jink to the top of Lancaster to bag another +1,500m for Janine.  The turn off is unmarked but obvious when we get there.

Janine and Mike drop packs and we head up the ridge.  It's easy travel over a few wee knobs and then on to Lancaster (2.20pm).  The clag above is thin with occasional warm shafts of sun coming through but no views.

Back at the packs we continue along the ridge and the short climb to the Pinnacle Spur turn off.  We're right at the cloud ceiling now so sporadic views open to the valleys below.    

Waiohine headwaters below

This is where the route gets more interesting.  The next K or so to Tarn Ridge is narrow and lumpy with the odd scrambly bit with loose rock.  No real challenges, just the need for a bit of care.

At 3.30pm we are descending from the last knob to the wide flat expanse of Tarn Ridge and drop out of the clag.  I'm keen to hightail it as far along as we can before the clag comes back as I'd prefer to do this bit with some visibility, however the cloud stays away, and it even gets a little sunny.  

We're approaching pt 1313 when a couple of figures appear on the skyline - it's our car swap party.  They've come from Mitre Hut today and are aiming for Arete - I'm figuring they'll be getting there after sundown so don't want to keep them talking.   They give us intel on Tarn Ridge Hut - perfectly habitable but some issues with the water tank.  

We take a break just before the drop from Tarn Ridge to the saddle (about 4.15pm).  The topic of conversation is a friend's trip many years back where they ended up pulling their PLB.  They had been holed up in Tarn Ridge Hut in poor weather and decided it would be a good idea to drop into the Waingawa catchment and head to Arete Forks Hut to exit via the infamous sidle track.  All went swimmingly badly with leatherwood and poor weather and the discovery that one of their party was physically unable to head back up to the ridge when that was the most sensible option.  They ended up in wet sleeping bags in a makeshift bivvy on the side of the hill in a storm.  They pulled the PLB but the helicopter that did an overflight thought they were in the hut (this was in the days before GPS PLBs).  It all ended happily but salient lesson learned about leaving a perfectly good hut in bad weather.   

Incidentally, Tarn Ridge Hut used to be on Tarn Ridge in the saddle by pt 1313 - before the new (now mouldy) version in the current site near Dorset Ridge.  If you go to the Maps Past website and look at the 1989 map layer, you'll see it as well as an old route down the spur from pt 1313 into the Waingawa.

We start the climb out of the saddle knowing that it will be Tarn Ridge Hut tonight and not Dorset.  We're too far off pace to make it in daylight and I don't fancy thrashing around on the tussocky face above the hut in the dark.  

Mike is keen to identify the gravesite along the ridge here.  He stops at the spot marked by his GPS and searches the area diligently to no avail.  I recall the weathered remains of a cross further up the ridge, but he seems happy in his exploration - and who knows, he might find something.  With defeat admitted he resumes his climbing to join Janine and I beside the actual site (5.30pm). 

Shortly after, we pop over the top of a knob and there's the hut below (5.45pm).  It's looking weathered but its red roof still sticks out amongst the tussock and it has a fantastic outlook down the headwaters of the Waingawa River and across to the rugged flanks of the Bannister Ridge and Waingawa.  

The loo is even more weather beaten than the hut - the door is off and there's a lake on the floor, but it has a good outlook.

The water tank has a rock wedged under the tap which doesn't work.  To get water you pull the rock out and water starts running out of a crack where the pipe joins the tank, it dribbles onto the wooden platform and into a plastic tub.  

Inside, the fire exit door has been replaced but only after significant water damage to the wall.  It looks like a weather proofing problem over a long time rather than an event.  There's mould on the walls and other walls are also water damaged.  The front door is disintegrating, and the woodshed is stuffed full of mould covered mattresses with a further stack inside.  There are a few clean mattresses though.  We open the doors and windows and get some fresh air flowing.  

The morning brings clag again and a bit of wind.  I disturb a deer in front of the hut, it's about 60m away but expands the gap rapidly.  

We quickly determine that diverting to Dorset Ridge carries a bit of risk of being caught if the weather deteriorates or arriving late into Mitre flats if we have a slow trip over the tops.  Much to Janines regret, a little after 8.30am we head straight up the ridge to Girdlestone.      

The wind is starting to make itself felt by the time we get to the top around 9.15am.  Janine takes over the navigation and takes a bearing for the ridge to Brocket and we identify from the map what we expect to see, and what we might see if we drift off course.  

Girdlestone selfie - with Mike of the mist 

Mike's view

The wind is coming in firmly on our left now and the clag keeps a woolly grey blanket wrapped around the tops.  At the top of Brocket (10.30ish) we take a short pause and another bearing to follow the gentle ridge down into the saddle before Mitre.  It's much calmer in the lee with the ridge behind, but as we approach the climb to Mitre the wind comes in firmly and a few pack covers are relegated to pockets before the elements remove them permanently.   

Mike trying to claim that OSMs are edible

It's a tidy wee scramble up to Mitre - easier to find your way up than down I imagine.  As we approach the top the clag does it's best to break.  The wind shreds the cloud and a sunny Wairarapa comes in and out of view.  At 11am we grab some comfortable tussock seats out of the wind for a snack, and one or two might have done the daily Wordle.   

The wind has moved from firm to quite strong on the Tararua scale.  We get a good buffeting between Mitre and Peggy then gradually drop into calmer air.  We also leave the clag behind. 

A party of three with no packs on the way up stop for a chat - they are part of a party of eight who were doing a northern crossing but, based on the forecast, have decided to bail.  Five of their number are already hightailing it back to bags bunks at Mitre Flats Hut - this intrepid three are intent on at least bagging Mitre.  

   

We're heading uneventfully down when Mike suddenly does a dramatic lurch and falls to lie motionless curled up on the track.  We are well stacked with PLBs but it's probably best to find out what's happened before pulling the pin on one.  It turns out that he's gone over on one ankle.  After a bit of a rest and administration of a couple of (non-prescription) pills from Janine.  He's able to get up and moving again and professes that it doesn't hurt too much.  

We see the rest of the party of eight further down the ridge but, in no hurry to catch them up, we stop for a good long lunch around 12.30.

   

The rest of the track down is fine.  Lots of people though: the party of three briefly catch us up then drop behind, we bump into a solo woman on her way to Tarn (unconcerned about the weather) and we catch up with the party of five and stop for a chat.  They are a mix of ages with the youngest two members in the summit party behind us - the rest seem to be from 50 to knocking on 70.  Too big for a family group, it must be a tramping club.  They are most concerned about getting bunks at the hut and ask hopefully if we will bags some for them.  It was apparently full last night with people in tents outside.

Approaching the hut, we pass a dog his hunter and his hunter's missus going for a walk with their rifle.  Shortly after, the loo makes its pungent presence known.  This, the forecast heavy rain, plus the number of punters likely to be resident tonight makes the prospect of staying here increasingly unappealing.

  

It's just after 3pm - we have a sit down and a bit of sustenance at the hut and discuss next moves.  Mike's foot is holding up well although who knows what it will be like in the morning.  I'm keen not to stay the night for the reasons already outlined and Janine allows herself to be convinced that a bolt for the road end and a decent feed in a Wairarapa watering hole is our best course of action.  To sweeten the deal I take her tent on board - my packs not big enough to offer the same to Mike.

The group of five arrive as we're talking and stampede to grab bunks.  I get chatting and discover that they are from the Parawai Tramping Club which I didn't know still existed.  Another chap asks us about the Barton Track - he and partner have come over from Kiriwhakapapa and with the forecast, decided to pull the plug on a loop over table ridge to Mitre from Cow Creek.  He has a map of the park that should be in a museum as well as a slightly newer version - it shows a lot of the old tracks that have long since fallen into disuse. 

About 3.50pm we head off for the sidle track with the deafening sound of cicadas in our ears and the smell of future chips in our nostrils.   

The walk out to the Pines is somewhat tedious.  Just after the first farm flats we bump into a solo runner and wonder why he would be heading in at this time of day.  A bit later he comes back with a party of four.  Apparently, he is the road crew for a group that have come through from the Waiohine road end this morning - a tidy wee step.    

There are a few spots of rain falling as we get to the car and find that the keys work, and it even starts (7.50pm).  Then it's off to the Top Pub in Greytown for a feed.  The restaurant closes as we arrive, but the bar is still serving - but not burgers, only pizzas and you'd better be quick.  It's certainly not gourmet but it is also not dehy and we're quite happy with that.

Postscript

Over coming days Mike's ankle develops a spectacular lump and unnatural colouration.  He professes to no significant discomfort but has clearly done some damage.  The panadol-neurofen combination did good service at the outset and his boots probably helped keep everything in one piece for the walk out.  On current form though the physio will be getting a bit more business out of him yet.  He's been looking for excuses not to do the Noosa marathon and this is probably as good as any.