A classic northern - and the final spot

As the last handful of spot-heights have ticked by, I've been trying to think of a suitable way to finish them off. Two are on the Main Range so, an SK tops perhaps? A bit of a grand gesture.

There's one spot however, that was just more ... interesting. Pt 953; on a spur that drops north east from Bannister splitting the headwaters of the Ruamahanga. It's a bit of a mission to get to from any angle and has so far eluded my efforts to link it into a through trip. It seems a fitting finale - just a question of designing the route.

The two other spots are on the ridge between Dundas and Arete - so it will have to be a west - east traverse, a little north of the usual Tarn Ridge highway. In a nod to Tararua history it seems fitting to throw in a few routes that are no longer on the maps.

So, the final plan is a Poads Road entry to head up the Ohau River and Deception Spur; drop into the Mangahao then climb Triangle Spur to the Main Range at Dundas. From there, pick off two spots on the way to Arete Hut for the night. The following day, climb to Bannister, drop to 953 and crack open an imaginary bottle of bubbly. It looks like a steep but doable drop to the river junction and a steep but navigable spur to Pukekino on Cattle Ridge.  The quickest exit from there looks like the old track from Cow Saddle up to the Blue Range track and out to Kiriwhakapapa.

Two days should do it, but I'll take an annual leave day in case.

As this trip marks the culmination of a somewhat lengthy and eccentric pursuit, I guess I should briefly address a few obvious questions.

What is a spot height?  They are cartographer creations from the process of making the topo maps; most of them have nothing to distinguish them on the ground.

How many are there in the Tararuas?  Until recently I would say there were probably three or four hundred. However, to claim I've visited them all, I should have a more precise estimate so did my best to count them. Turns out there is around 650 and they are bloody awkward to count. Here's the DOC map website if you want to check (select topo maps and turn on public conservation areas in the drop down menus).

I pulled a few notes together on spot-heighting a while back - they might even provide enough of a response to the other obvious question ("why?") to avoid committal under the Mental Health (Compulsory Assessment and Treatment) Act 1992.

One final word on the matter; by knocking off the spot heights one cannot be considered to have 'done' the Tararuas - much though I might like to think so. There are tracks, huts, unofficial huts, old hut sites, rivers, streams, waterfalls, spurs, plane wrecks, vegetation types, geological features ... any number of reasons to explore a little bit more. But I reckon after this I might have had enough for a while.


What:     Spot-heighting, navigation, northern crossing
Where:    Ohau to Kiriwhakapapa
When:     18-19 May 2019
Who:       Solo
Map

The whole 9 yards

At 04.30 the cell phone buzzes to confirm that Mike has scraped himself out of bed and will be heading my way soon.

In an impressively complicated plan he is dropping me up the coast whilst Angela and my usual support crew head to Nelson to buy a house - but that's another story.

It's a pleasant change to have company for the trip which consequently passes quickly. There's a near full moon but a lot of cloud about, I'll be keeping an anxious eye on the weather all weekend as it is forecast to deteriorate to gales and rain in the afternoon, becoming severe over night.

About 7am Mike wishes me luck and I  head out with headtorch on. It's calm with no sign of wind, let alone the forecast gales.

I'm well along the gorge track when a figure appears in the gloom. The hunter is good natured about the prospect of me blundering ahead and disturbing the game. He brushes aside my apology and says he's heading up Blackwater Creek for a look and aims to be home in time to have lunch with the missus.

About 7.50am the track takes to the river where the rocks are wet and slippery from the periodic drizzle; at least the river isn't up. I potter on to the base of Deception Spur by 8.30. And that's the most useful the walking poles get all trip.

Base of Deception Spur - junction of North and South Ohau branches




Saturday - the interesting bits

The base of the spur is steep with lots of regenerating rata. And a band of kiekie (that Dr Suess designed sprawler with dark green hard edged strappy leaves). Easy to drift off the foot trail through here. Further up there's a good ground trail. Few views - all of mist, and I'm getting somewhat damp from the occasional shower and pushing through wet vegetation.

My risk assessment is most on my mind - the weather is number one, and slips and falls are number two. I've defined the assessment points and contingencies, should it deteriorate faster and further than predicted, and keep rehashing them in my head. I'm most conscious of not letting the pursuit of the last spot eclipse getting out on my own two feet.

At 1020 I'm at the cairn on the ridge (865m) - still no wind, and cold and dank. A smart right turn to follow the trail along and down the spur towards Girdlestone.

Top of Deception

I reckon there must be an old route down here somewhere - I failed to find it once before but I'm not concerned about bush bashing to the bottom. I pick a spot where the spur flattens just above the 720m contour - there's a bit of a spur leading to the left - no trail but it looks good. It isn't, but I manage to cross a wee creek and sidle across slope to the right and onto the correct spur which has blue triangles and a strong ground trail. I follow this down to the junction of a creek and the Mangahao River. It's a bit after 11; still overcast but calm. (last time through I think I came down just a little south of here)

Pairs of piwakawaka flit above the river from the trees as I top up with water ahead of the long climb to the Main Range.
.

Back across Mangahao River to the base of the spur I came down

Across the river and down stream 50 odd metres there's a short scramble onto an old terrace, where the main valley track is easily found - there's orange tape and a rat tunnel on the track; about opposite the wee stream I emerged beside.

Big rats here - look at the size of the rock

I still haven't found the best route onto the base of Triangle Spur, but it is pretty open bush so easy to wander about and up until you see a pink ribbon and a ground trail. I knuckle down for the long climb - 900m or so.

The temperature drops and a wee breeze springs up but still nothing significant. I have a bit of trouble keeping to the trail towards the bushline, but on exiting I find some blue tape and a swathe through the scrub. The breeze has stiffened.

Out of the bush - not a lot to see

As the wind strengthens, the temperature drops. I'm pretty damp so it's time to get into the lee of a knob and whip my top off to don a merino layer - as well as gloves and balaclava.

I'm at my first assessment point - out of the bush the conditions are deteriorating but still ok so I decide to push on to the ridge.

The wind gets stronger towards the top and is now whipping across the ridge. I hunker in the tussock to get a bearing and check the map as the clag is well set in now.

It's downright unpleasant on the ridge with the wind slashing stinging rain against my exposed cheek and pushing me about. There's a couple of points where I need to check the map because of the clag and near pt 1437 I drift onto an animal trail heading west down a spur - fortunately quickly identified and rectified.

It becomes one of those head down and soldier on experiences. I'm conscious that there are no real bail options from here - down to the left are steep faces into a leatherwooded hell and down to the right is ... the same. Soaked through, the only way to maintain temperature is to keep moving - stops are short.  I pretty quickly lose count of the ups and downs but keep an average bearing for the ridge on my compass - I'm focused on the wee climb to the sign on the ridge pointing to Arete Hut. The walking poles are a help to keep balance in the wind but catch on everything and are a hazard when clambering.

The dried heads of spiky spaniards periodically fool me into seeing snow poles (there's none along here), until finally one turns out to be an old metal stake - and then the sign. The trail down starts ok but is not that easy to follow as it drops towards the wide face the hut is tucked into. I remember to pass the tarn on my left then follow my nose until the hut pops out from the dip it is hiding in. I've heard of people staggering about having a deal of trouble finding it in bad conditions.

I'm pleased to find it empty. At 4.30 it has hardly been a long day but I'm wet, cold and tired. It's an immense relief to close the door on the wind and rain and set about getting soup on and sopping clothes off - they'll not be drying tonight and I can already feel what they will be like to put on in the morning.

Phew

Arete is a tidy wee two bed hut with a bench. It's surprisingly small for where it is located - on the nexus of the Main Range and the Northern Crossing. There are quite a few log entries from people who have headed out for some adventure, only to be beaten back to the hut by the weather. I join the list of people that have been entirely relieved to finally reach this haven.

Once settled in, it dawns that the trip along the ridge knocked off the third and second to last spot heights - there's only one to go. I'm painfully aware though, that that can't enter into my decision making. If all goes as forecast, severe gales will come through tonight with plenty of rain which will die through the morning. The morning of course when I intend to climb the exposed ridge to Bannister.

It's 7 degrees in the hut so not freezing but I get into my sleeping bag and read a VUW tramping club year book. It's either that or hunting magazines.  Outside the wind gets up further and the hut thrums.

The gale certainly becomes severe during the night. You know those gusts that wake you and get to the point where you think something will give if it continues - I remind myself the hut has withstood far worse, roll over and try to cover my exposed ear. The wind lashes sheets of rain against the hut.

There's a big moon somewhere above this chaotic weather.  It has the clag glowing, without giving any sense of source.

It's after 7 when I wake enough to decide to make preparations. It's light, and despite the clag there is a bit of visibility. The wind has dropped but it is cold with occasional drifts of rain. 

The plan is to cross the basin above Arete Stream and see what the wind is like in the saddle, then start the climb up the Twins - if it is too rough I'll turn back for a day at the hut.

As I get ready, the clag starts to shred and a glow of sun reflecting off distant slopes peers through where the saddle to the Twins must be.  As I watch, the sky clears briefly to the east to show a sunny morning in the Wairarapa.

I'm much happier setting out knowing that with the west-east flow over the mountains it will be drier and clearer in the direction I'm heading.

A hopeful sign

About 8.30 I have dragged on the last off my sopping gear and closed the door. I take a bearing but quickly discover it isn't needed. There's a path past the loo that leads down a wee spur to an old sign to the hut. After this a few cairns and a bit of a foot trail lead diagonally up slope - I drift off line but soon find a strong foot trail that sidles onto the ridge above the saddle. I've stashed one walking pole in my pack but can't say the other one is adding much value.

Start of Sunday - Arrows to Arete Hut and pt 953

It's bitterly cold but the wind has dropped further and the rain is holding off. I decide it's a goer and start climbing to the first Twin. The clag periodically breaks and gives glimpses of a sunny Table Ridge, and, briefly the bright dot of Arete Forks Hut way below.

On the Twins I note the puddle I drank from last time - it would be pretty clean now given the rinsing it got last night.

Towards Table Ridge

Approaching the top of the second Twin, Bannister plays hide and seek through the clag.




Second Twin and up to Bannister

Around 9.40 I'm on Bannister - the wind is chill and the rugged ridge route to Waingawa is appearing and disappearing literally every few seconds.

What was supposed to be the riskiest part of the day is over - nothing but a stretch of spur between me and that final spot. I check in with the support crew and head down out of the clag.

Main ridge south west from Bannister - now you don't see it ...

Now you do

My spur down slowly emerging 

Pretty soon I have unimpeded views of Cattle Ridge in the sun and Bannister Basin down to my right. There was a Forest Service hut in there once, but I can't see any indication where. The 1979 maps show it near the stream, a ways down the basin, but not subsequent editions. I haven't seen a map with a route marked to it.

There's a reasonable ground trail on the spur, mostly deer by the look of it, but if you keep your eyes open it gives a good route through the tussock and patches of low scrub. There's a couple of spots on the way down where you might veer onto a side spur in clag but nothing a compass wouldn't prevent.

Down my spur - planned spur up Cattle Ridge ahead

Before long I'm looking down to my spot - just above the junction of the Ruamahanga and a sizable stream from the catchments to my right.

At last a clear view to the final spot

A bit over 1000m there's a band of scrub I have to do battle with but I may have just missed the trail - it wouldn't be much fun coming up. I realise I have lost my favourite cap somewhere on the way through, but going back is really not an option.

The spur flattens with some clear areas and low knobs. Someone has set up a trail camera pointing at a wallow. Of course I stop and give it a wave. There's also a box with an antenna and a rain gauge - I'm hardly the first here.

At 1053 I'm at pt 953. There's sun breaking through and I'm even thinking about shedding a layer. It's pleasing to know that this is not just another hard to reach spot, but the last of the hard to reach spots I have set myself. There's the satisfaction that I guess every hut bagger and stamp collector gets from finishing their particular collection - but I'm not really of a mind to savour it right now. So far this trip has been about assessing risks and margins - and now I'm contemplating the climb out and where I'll have to bivvy down if I'm too knackered to make the road end tonight. I do manage a little self-satisfied bask as I sit and munch on fruit bread and camembert.

Above, Cattle Ridge, Bannister Ridge and the Main Range circle the horizon. From down here it's fair to call them ramparts.




Last one



None to go!

A hint of a trail along the spur has disappeared, and I'm looking for a way through the scrub and down to the river junction. It's pretty horrendous - there's no indication people or animals have come this way. It's steep and the vegetation starts as close scrub then becomes forest with dense, rotting branches and black slippery humus. I have to zigzag to avoid frequent drops and hang off trees and handfuls of ferns to negotiate the unavoidable ones. The sound of the rivers gets louder.

A patch of mountain cabbage trees near the bottom would normally have got my attention but I am far more intent on whether my next foot hold is going to crumble, leaving me relying on a spindly coprosma.

With slightly shaky knees I scramble out to the waters edge almost an hour after celebrating success at 953.

Although the stream on my right isn't named, it is a respectable size. It joins the Ruamahanga and drops into the dim start of the upper gorge.

Despite the rain the water is reasonably clear and I top up - this may have to see me out.

Ruamahanga on right - unnamed stream on left - gorge ahead

Sun on the tops - not so much here

Scanning the other bank, I find a way to scramble on to the spur. I'd identified two options for this climb: from this junction, or from the next junction up the side stream. I chose the main junction, as I figured people are more likely to head for a landmark like this - particularly if they were aiming for the gorge or to head up the Ruamahanga.

I see no signs that people ever thought this way at all. It's a steep scramble for a start, a steep but reasonable section in forest, and then the scrub starts, lower than the map indicates. Every step up is a struggle; crawling through, under, over and around - unweaving tangled branches before trying to slide between, only to have a spike of dead leatherwood stop you dead as it stabs into your thigh.

Back to 953 and the spur from Bannister

The sun is shining now but I'm feeling completely drained. I've tried before but it is hard to describe how demoralising some scrub can be - just as you find space to stand, you're confronted by a waist high step up and a stubborn leatherwood - clambering over is the only option. It's a strain to lift a leg high enough then scramble for purchase on the slimy bark. The branches refuse to bend out of the way but snap suddenly just when your weight is committed. Forcing your way through, a totara branch flicks a face-full of spiky leaves, dislodging glasses. On the other side you're forced onto your stomach to squirm between gnarled stems with branches snaring your pack. And so it goes and goes.

The spur is steep and the map is telling me that I have another 100m of glacial progress - to my utter relief I struggle out and onto tussock at about 1020m.  This is about where the other option spur joins mine. I've stumbled onto an animal trail - no idea if it goes right to the bottom, but it looks like a better option than the way I came up.

There's plenty of game sign on this spur, I follow trails all the way to the top, albeit somewhat slowly. By the time the spur rounds gently onto the flat expanse of Pukekino I'm in clag again and the temperature has plummeted.

It's 2.50, I'm feeling wrung out and cold. I let the support crew know that I'm still alive and that I may biv down at Cow Saddle. After a snack I set the compass and set off into the gloom.

Although cold, it's not windy, so it's just a question of the occasional glance at the compass and rocking along trying not to notice the chafe. The clag just sits there.




Pukekino

A bit of unhindered walking along the mostly flat ridge puts me in a better frame of mind. However my text at 3.36 from the top of the track to Cow Saddle still only rates the probability of getting out tonight as 'an outside chance.'

The ground trail at the top of the spur is not that distinct and I'm starting to second guess myself. However, pretty soon there is more sign of human traffic and I relax a little - just concentrating on not slipping. I'm expecting to walk out of the bottom of the clag but it clings stubbornly to below the bushline.

There's a wee stream shortly after the bushline, which today has a respectable trickle - you can't rely on it in summer. Once in the bush I know it's about 300m down to the saddle and I'm thinking I will at least be able to start up the other side in the light.

Just before 5pm, I drop my pack in the saddle and study the map. I'm going for the road end now. It'll be long dark before then, so I just figure on getting up to the flat part of the spur above (800m) before cracking out the light.

The final push - last coms point at arrow

There's a wooden sign in the saddle, if you head back towards Cow Creek a very short way there's a tin sign on a tree - this marks where to look for a ground trail through saplings heading upwards. It gets steadily gloomier as I climb, but the trail is good and even when I wander off, I soon find my way back to it.

At around 820m I give up and get my torch out.  This is my new headlight and I discover how utterly ridiculously useless my old one was. I pretty much stick to the trail all the way up, with a few minor excursions. Although not a marked track it has had enough use over time that it is noticeably harder underfoot than the surrounding forest.

I can't really claim to be navigating now - I just have to keep going up until 970 metres and then worry about it - until then the trail marks the path of least resistance so I just concentrate on keeping to it.

The clag is thick in among the trees and the drifting droplets reflect the light.

When the trail finally tops out, I take a bearing southwest and follow whatever ground trail presents itself. It seems to take a long time to travel what is a very easy 400m section of ridge to the track. Finally the sign pointing to the Waingawa River appears reassuringly out of the dark. It's feels like much longer, but it has only been a bit over an hour and a quarter from the saddle - I might actually get out tonight.

Mentally I have the rest of the trip broken into five: a long flattish bit, a steep climby bit, a mucky sidle bit to the Blue Range Hut junction, a long steep down bit, then a lovely flat stroll out. I knuckle down to ticking these off.

At 7.30 I ring Brother Number One from the junction - 'any chance of a pick-up?' I'm mentally prepared to kip out in the road end shelter but somewhat relieved when, as always, he is most obliging. "8.30?"  "Nah, better make it 9 - it's wet and lethally slippery." 

Last time I came down here the Moreporks were starting their evening calls. Tonight they have well passed the initial flurry of 'good evenings', with just the occasional late call drifting across the hills.

The good headlight probably balances the extra time needed for careful foot work. Every root is just waiting to skate a foot sideways or tip your balance. I note three trees on the way down with metal collars - presumably to protect mistletoe from possums - I see what I think is a mistletoe in the beam of my light but can't get close enough to investigate.

At last the track bottoms out by a wee creek which marks where to cross and start the comfortable amble along the old tram way. I wobble along at my end of trip can't-go-any-faster pace, occasionally humming under my breath: "no more spots to go, no more spots to go ..."

At 0845 there's a near full moon but no cars at the road end. Perfect. I have just enough time to change into my hut clothes before sweeping headlights herald the arrival of Brother Number One, a flask of hot soup, and an end to this particular chapter.

Postscript

What's next? Don't know - might look at some bike trips, and the Kahurangis are calling ... certainly not chasing spot-heights anywhere else.

What does it feel like to finish something that has taken so much time and effort? Still working it out. I really don't recommend aspects of it - there are many spots which are buried in scrub or gorse which are basically a pointless and painless aggravation. What I do recommend is anything that gets you to explore new corners and spot heights certainly get you to do that.

A lot of people think you have to be a lunatic to go off track and solo in some of the remoter corners. I've thought about this a lot on my trips - they have a point and I reckon there are some ethical considerations you have to work through.

It is essentially a selfish act - for convenience, and my own preference I rarely go with a group. This has some unavoidable consequences, for example, a slightly higher risk of an incident, a more significantly higher risk of adverse outcomes from an incident (e.g. from lower ability to self manage), loss of socialisation of experience, role modelling higher risk practices, higher individual environment foot print (e.g. solo transport) ...

I don't think it washes to say that you knowingly take the risks on yourself. Someones will suffer emotional harm if you end up dead in a creek, and you can't opt out of SAR mounting an expensive search effort. So, in effect you are individualising the benefits and socialising the costs.

To me, this creates some moral obligation to share some of the benefits and to reduce the potential costs. For example; good planning including a detailed risk assessment (mitigate risks, identify contingencies), avoid dumb decisions, carry the right gear, carry a PLB (reduce search costs), explicit intentions (reduce search costs, piece of mind for family), use hut log books (search costs), carry a cell phone, give back (e.g. share experience through a club or online, go on pest control trips) ...

Enough of that. Given the momentous occasion, a few acknowledgements are in order:

• The support crew of course for foregoing having someone around most weekends (to paint the drains and whatever else you are supposed to do with an aging villa), and for drop off/pick ups at unfashionable hours in obscure locations
• Brother Number One and Janne for innumerable early drop offs and late pick ups, warm beds, hot dinners, and don't-shoot-me-vests
• Family members and anyone else that patiently wades through these rambling accounts and makes the mistake of politely expressing interest
• Those that would have turned out should I ever have pulled my PLB or missed my due time

Tararua double crossing

There are many classic traverses of the Tararuas; the length of the main range, the Southern Crossing, various mid-range options and many themes and variations on north-range crossings.

Easter provides four days for exploration - the autumnal weather and impending roar introducing interesting wildcards. I have my eye on crossing east-west via the craggy Bannister ridge, returning along the well-traveled Tarn Ridge (with a number of diversions of course).

Before you notice that I didn't fully cross to the other side (the west) ... I admit I didn't take the extra few hours to head downstream from South Ohau Hut to the western park boundary. The climb and crossing of the tops is the challenge I was after - adding the stream section would just have been tedious.


What:     There and back northern crossing of the Tararua main range, plus spot-heighting
Where:   In at Kiriwhakapapa, cross Bannister Ridge, return via Tarn Ridge to Mikimiki
When:    Easter 2018 (30 March - 2 April)
Who:      Solo
Maps:

Large scale

Start and finish

The middle bits

It's dark at Kiriwhakapapa. A bit north of Masterton, this is one of the tidier road ends with shelter, toilet block and smooth grass for camping. Brother number one has (again) kindly offered to do the pick-up and drop-off as I will be exiting at the next road end south (Mikimiki). At the last moment he offers me a reflective vest as the roar is about to start and not getting shot is fairly high on my priority list.

Another party is gearing up - four plus a dog. They are heading to Arete Hut too and joke that they'll race me for the bunks (two only) then say they have tents so no worries. I'm hoping I'll get beyond Arete but it's my first decision point.

7am I head out by head torch. The track up to Blue Range hives off immediately into a Redwood groove but (as usual) there is a spot-height I want to pick up. So I follow the old logging tramway bench south west by a creek until a loop track crosses the creek and climbs onto the foot of a spur. I leave this track to push up through sparse undergrowth and a bit of supplejack to pt 510. The dawn sun angles in between the hills to scatter orange light across the tree trunks.

Dawn

It's a pretty easy climb to join the main track at about 760m to arrive at the ridge track at 8.45.  Judging from marks on the track the other party have been through already.

Blue Range is part of the series of hills that I think of as the eastern foothills of the Tararuas. They are flanked on the west by the rivers (Ruamahanga, Waingawa, Atiwhakatu, Waiohine, Tauherenikau) and the Wairarapa plains to the east. They offer a lot of below bushline offtrack exploration.

Today I follow the track over the top and towards the descent to the Waingawa River, pausing at the odd window that gives views to the tops. I catch up with the other party just before the descent. The day is promising to be clear and hot.

End of Table Ridge

The party are intending to drop to the river then climb to Cow Saddle but decide to follow my lead down a spur directly to the Saddle.  Fortunately it goes smoothly (happy to get myself lost but wouldn't like to be responsible for doing it to others). I'm aware that the route is traveled and there does turn out to be some old markers and a bit of a foot trail but it isn't always that obvious.

There's a couple of lasses that are new vets in Dargaville and their blokes. The lass with the dog seems to be the experienced one with a fair amount of tramping and climbing down south under her belt.

A bit after 10.30 I leave them in the saddle after pointing where to drop to the creek for a top up. The saddle here is broad and shelves gently to the north east (Ruamahanga), there's a couple of tents off the track - a reminder that there will be a few people about because of Easter.

The day is decidedly hot now and I am regretting opting for a bushshirt as I sweat my way up - it will be hotter on the open tops. There's still more windfall on the track than there really should be on a marked route. The wee stream crossing near the bushline is barely trickling today.

Waingawa River

At less than 1000m the bushline is low. The last piece of shade prompts a pause to lose the bush-shirt (retaining the fluoro-vest) and slather on sunscreen. Onwards and upwards.

Apart from the odd fluffy cloud this is the sort of day where you get to identify more and more of the surrounding landscape as the vistas open up with your ascent. I'm most keen to study Table Ridge (which I will be traversing on Monday) and, when they come into view, Bannister Ridge (today) and Tarn Ridge (Sunday).

Table Ridge

There's a few deer barks drifting up from the slopes to the south of Waingawa but I'm more focused on the view so get a hell of a fright when a head pops out of a shrub and whispers a greeting. A hunter is guiding a couple of his mates to stalk a stag just off the north of this spur. He has a sawn-off  soft drink bottle and uses it to give a few roars - prompting a response from the gully. They are the owners of the tents in the saddle and have already got one deer this morning. At midday he reckons it's getting a bit hot and the deer will be heading back into the scrub to rest up, but this one is worth a crack.

I watch for a while before continuing up and leaving them to it - reaching Cattle Ridge about 12.30.

Waingawa - left. Ridge to Bannister runs right

Waingawa itself is an easy wander up. There's a modest tarn on the way up and a larger one near the top but I'm past both before I see them and can't be bothered heading back to top up from the brown looking water. It's a bit surprising that the larger one isn't marked on the map (I had been alerted to this).

From Waingawa I'm expecting it to get interesting. The ridge is reportedly fairly lumpy with some rocky scrambles - it's supposed to take about 4 hours to travel the approx 3km to the main range.  To the left (south) steep spurs and faces drop to Arete Stream up to 800m below (potential exit routes and a hut). On the right, the remote and rugged headwaters of the Ruamahanga River (gorges, no hut and not recommended).

After a while, a fluro pink dot indicates the party of four is weaving their way down through the tussock off Waingawa. A couple of times a bark drifts my way on the breeze. I hear later that the dog was fine most of the time but freaked out on one climb so they had to find a bypass on the north side of the ridge.

Overall the route is straight forward. It's quite physical with lots of up and down and there are about four hand-over-hand sections where you know you have to be careful, but they are generally pretty short. For those of a nervous disposition there are options to scramble through scrub and up gullies on the north face to avoid the climbs.

Although it starts hot, I notice that the clouds are starting to gather in the west. However, running out of water is the more immediate issue.

Climbing to the point before 1513 I see some heads peeking over the horizon above - 5, no 6 deer line the ridge and are gazing down at me with ears perked. They watch for minutes while I swelter upwards, one is a stag with a fairly modest rack. Finally, a hind barks and the heads swing around to follow her down and away.

At the top there is a large and very fresh wallow - a lovely way for a hot deer to cool down. The deer themselves have disappeared down into Bannister Basin and are nowhere to be seen. Later, a hunter tells me that deer will frequently create wallows, including below the bushline. And all this time I have been blaming pigs.

About now I notice that the sporadic fluffy clouds are starting to get organised and hold hands in the west. It's still hot with little wind. At the top of Bannister (1537m and about 2.15pm) the view has disappeared. I'm feeling the affects of the sun and lack of water so keep on at a slower pace. There are a couple of puddles on one of the Twins which I normally wouldn't look at but make an exception on this occasion. I'm pleased that at least the dog is behind me.

The view disappears 

and comes back - last approach to Bannister (I think)

A few breaks in the clag show the basin at the top of Arete stream - it's like a wee hanging valley forming a gentle U from the ridge I'm on across to Arete biv. I reckon it could be a short cut from this ridge rather than climbing right up to the Main Range. Sure enough, a bit later, a couple of cairns lead off the side of the ridge into the cloud. It develops into a ground trail which sidles then drops into the basin. At the bottom I expect to see a stream but it seems to be buried. There's an old sign indicating that the hut is not so long away, I work my way up the other side and past the loo.

It's 16:15, cloudy and still. There's one chap at the hut and I quickly bags the other bed before guzzling down a belly full of water. There's plenty of daylight left but the options for going further would involve finishing under torchlight and camping out - put it down to heat stroke but I'm wimping out and staying put.

The other chap has been out for a few days already compared to my one. We are shortly joined by another solo tramper who admits he hasn't got a tent and claims the floor. Chap number one gives him a hard time about turning up at a two bed hut at Easter with no tent - then admits he doesn't have one either. I don't mention that I have a fly and biv bag.

Voices drift out of the mist from above (Arete), and from the basin I crossed. It seems a party of three is descending from the main range and the party of four is dropping from Bannister Ridge into the basin (it turns out their voices were carrying about 500m). It looks like 10 people and a dog have designs on a two bed hut. 

Three voices must have got wind of four voices because they turn around and head back over the top. The clag parts and four voices (plus dog) become briefly visible making their way down into the basin. When they arrive I find out that the hunters got their second stag and we exchange our experiences of the crossing. They then get busy pitching their tents among the tussocks.

Much to the delight of chap number one, it turns out that one of the tents has arrived sans poles. It's not easy to bodge a fix for a modern, flexi pole tent without its poles. However, a couple of walking poles and the collective creative capacity of the group is up to it (I don't mention that I have a fly and biv bag - but prepare to produce them if needed).

As the shadows lengthen, the clag recedes and Bannister Ridge emerges into the afternoon sun. Soon after the shadows have chased the last of the light up the slopes, we are treated to the full moon rising over Bannister.

Bannister Ridge

The hut is comfortable - more so when the wind comes up during the night, periodically buffeting the hut with squalls of rain. A little before dawn, raised voices outside indicate that the bodge job has given up and the tent has collapsed. We wait for a knock on the door but the party packs up and heads off while I'm still drowsing.

Morning light reveals the sort of day best stayed in bed for. It is also the sort of day where the camera stays wrapped up - so no pictures I'm afraid. The other two get sorted and out while I potter about giving the hut a tidy before rugging up and following them.  They are both heading over Arete towards Te Matatwai.

In the conditions (and still feeling a bit drained from yesterday and the lingering effects of a cold) I've decided not to pursue the more ... optimistic option of climbing to Dundas and following a spur to the Mangahao valley. On the ridge, the wind is whipping up from the western slopes carrying a bit of rain. 

Over Arete and down, then a short rise to Pukematawai - a good ground trail and no navigation challenge despite the low visibility. This area is an interesting nexus. Major river and stream systems originate nearby and radiate to all points of the compass - the Otaki, Park, Mangahao, Ruamahanga, and Arete Stream (flows to the Waingawa). It is also where the main range intersects with the two significant northern crossing routes and Te Araroa heads off south.

I pass chap number two on the way up Pukematawai then hunker in the tussock to wait for him after taking a bearing for my spur - the last thing I want is to have him follow me off the top in the clag.

After he follows the track through, I head north dropping easily onto an obvious spur which, if all goes well, will drop me gently down to the Mangahao River. 

It starts well, tussock with some ground trail - but there is fairly extensive scrub. Sometimes there seems to be an old route through but it is easily lost so there is a lot bashing. In the clag I keep a close eye on the compass but there is one spot (about 950m) where I drop off the main spur - the clag clears just enough to take a bearing on Girdlestone Saddle and correct the deviation. 

Finally, below the  bushline the going gets easier and the faint trail is back again. On the lower reaches there is even evidence of an(other) old hunters camp. The rain is steady but not too cold and, at the bottom the river is crossable (unlike last (and first) time up this way).

Back on the track I head down river diverting once onto the base of Triangle Spur to pick up pt 630. There is a trail on the spur marked with sporadic pink tape but I lose it at the bottom to follow my nose across a broad terrace back to the track.

The rain settles in and I just about walk into a party coming the other way - I think it's the first time I've seen anyone else on this track although it is reasonably well travelled.

The next order of business is to drop to the river and climb the east valley wall (after sheltering under a tree for lunch). There's no trail on the steep spur I choose but at the top there is a faint old trail along the ridge. I head up ridge a short way to pick up pt 918 but flag the more distant pt 1025 as it's a bit scrubby and the weather is getting worse.

Coming back along the ridge I reach familiar territory at the spur down to North Ohau Hut. The track is now pretty easy to follow with old tape marking - we part company as it starts to drop towards Girdlestone Saddle. I navigate to the spur that drops towards the location of South Ohau Hut. It has some trail and is mostly good going with just a couple of tricky points. The bottom is mucky and loose as usual but I pop out in the right place in sight of the hut.

The Ohau is up but I'm comfortable making the crossing to the hut which is empty. It's 5.30.

The hut is a bit of a favourite, on a terrace at the junction of two streams - a pretty location.

View from hut

In the morning I'm heading out just before 7am - water levels have dropped and the rain has cleared. My route is upstream (wet feet) to Dowling Falls and Girdlestone Saddle. It's easy to follow although the first junction is not brilliantly marked (pretty obvious if you are following the map though). There are a few goats around this morning.

The junction to Dowling Falls and Girdlestone Saddle is well marked (not signposted). What the marking indicates (and the map doesn't) is that you climb the foot of the spur just before the stream junction.

I head up the stream bed which is narrow and slippery. The falls (7.35) are a short distance up and it is immediately apparent that you don't try to climb up the series of cascades. There are log jams and its all lethally slippery.

Rather than head back to the junction I bash up an old slip covered in rotten trees and bush lawyer (yeah ok, it probably does sound a bit stupid when you describe it like that).

On the spur top there's a marked track through some ridiculous tree fall. The track drops back to the stream aways above the falls and (I assume) meets a marked track to Girdlestone Saddle - I figure to bash straight up the spur to the track above the saddle. It's steepish but navigable - the sun is now beaming in but not quite enough to dry wet gear. On the way up a Piwakawaka takes an interest and approaches within 40cm of my face.

On the ridge (8.50) I turn right and follow the broad track to the intersection leading right to Te Matawai Hut (9.10) - I turn left for the climb to the main range under a clear sky.

Spur to Pukematawai 

There are some fresh prints on the track and a couple of figures high above - I close but don't quite catch them before they head south at the top.

On the way up I am treated to the sight of the spur down from yesterday morning - now naked to the sky. It's also clear why there are 'here-be-dragons' warnings about dropping into the Mangahao headwaters from Pukematawai - it is steep and the water course has some spectacular cascades.

At the ridge I head north to rejoin my tracks from yesterday - with plenty of pauses to look at the views.

Mangahao headwaters

Yesterday's spur

Yesterday's spur - Girdlestone Saddle behind

Arete

Across upper Park Valley

Spur down on right, up on left 

Pukematawai - yesterday's spur running right



From Arete to Mitre 

Bannister Ridge from south east face of Arete

Arete Hut terrace

Back at Arete Biv around 11am, I make a note in the log and head off for Tarn Ridge. I traveled part of this route with some mates when I was at school, but have no recollection of which bits - just that it was clagged in and we kept on getting blown off our feet. So, this is pretty much all new.

There's a bit of cloud in the west that periodically blows in but it stays pretty clear.

Rather than take the direct route along the ridge to my destination for the night (Tarn Ridge Hut) I have two side trips. A short one up to Lancaster (1504m at the top end of Carkeek Ridge) and a longer one to a spot-height (1295) on Pinnacle Spur (on the route down to Arete Forks Hut).

Lancaster takes a few minutes and gives lovely views over the upper Waiohine Valley and along Carkeek Ridge - reviving memories of another trip. It's about 12.10 now so plenty of time in the day.

Bannister Ridge

  

Upper Waiohine 

Tarn Ridge to right

Pinnacle Spur is not so quick - it's a steep descent with a number of lumps. There's a reasonable trail but still a bit of a scramble. It goes give nice views though - north east across the valley, the afternoon sun throws shadows that accentuate the rugged faces of the Bannister Ridge. At 1pm I'm still relaxed about the time.

Pinnacle Spur (right) and Bannister

Pinnacle spur towards Tarn Ridge Hut

Bannister Ridge 

Back on the ridge there's a few lumps to navigate before the broad flat top of Tarn Ridge. I can imagine that this would be interminable in clag and somewhat difficult to find the right exit point.

Another lump

There's a wee saddle after Tarn Ridge, then a few lumps before the hut. On one of these is the grave of a hunter that perished in atrocious conditions (1959). The cross is well weathered, and the remains are propped in a cairn. behind is the hunter's intended destination - Dorset Ridge.  

Back to Tarn Ridge

Waiohine Valley, Dorset Ridge on left

Shortly after the grave the next knob gives a view of the hut.

There are clothes hanging on the deck - indicating zero chance of an empty hut. At 1530 I could keep going over the top but I've had enough for the day.

There's one crook hunter in his pit and a messy hut. His mates are out hunting down into the Waiohine basin. I give him some panadol and relax in the afternoon sun.

The hut has two double layer sleeping platforms so there's plenty of space for four of us. They're not too noisy but I'm not feeling chatty so pretty much keep to myself.

The morning brings clag and wind. The hunters are heading out via Mitre so I'm up first and out at 7am, before anyone else stirs. 

Although not cold the wind is strong and there's a bit of all-fours required to get to the top of Girdlestone. From here is new territory. There's a good ground trail along to Brockett (0800) but from here I leave the main trail to Mitre and head off along Table Ridge. 

In the clag I pause often to take bearings. It would be a doddle on a clear day but in order to stick to a bearing I find myself (more than once) among clumps of spiky spaniard, and once plunge thigh deep into a foot width hole.

The wind is smashing into the nor-west slope and howling gleefully over the tops. I lurch and stagger along like a drunken sailor but there are no real challenges until dropping into the saddle after pt 1478. It's a bit rockier and the ridge is sharper. There's cause to pause in the lee of the ridge a few times to regroup and a few diversions to avoid the most exposed edges in the wind. 

I reckon I've got to 1390 - the last high point before I find my spur down. The top is broad again and it's still clagged in so I'm taking bearings when I sense a lightening in the sky. I race for the edge of the ridge and sure enough, the clag swirls away to reveal a sunlit spur plunging to the bushy valley far below (a little to the left of where I was aiming). It disappears quickly but it's enough.

It's still quite a proposition to get off the tops - the wind chucks me over more than once and, although there's some ground trail, it's quite a staggery, stumbly course that I set. The lower I get though, the more the clag is shredded off the tops and the more sunlight on the tussock.

At 0950 I hunker down inside the bushline and take a breather - the wind is slashing through the low canopy but my ringing ears are settling and it's calm on the mossy floor.

It takes about 1hr10 to the bottom (1100) picking up the spot-height that is the objective of the exercise (550). The spur has a good shape and a ground trail most of the way. There's a bit of a mucky bit towards the bottom where it is somewhat broad and indeterminate, but nothing the compass can't solve. It would be a good route up.

I'm now following the main trail down the Waingawa but leave it to scramble up to pt 610, finding a hunters rubbish heap on the way (beside the stream just north of the Mitre peak track spur).

610 

It's approaching 1pm and I have a river and a ridge between me and the road end at Mikimiki. The wind is still strong and more than once I find myself casting a weather eye upwards for branches. It pushes me around a bit on the river crossing but I'm soon back in the bush climbing steeply up towards Lookout Point.

I don't know why it's got that name because there sure ain't any view spots - today I figure it is a warning about falling branches. Where there is a choice I am avoiding areas with higher likelihood of branches dropping on one's head.

The canopy starts high but towards the top it has dropped and there is a lot of totara and other saplings. About 1435 I have reached Bruce Hill and found a trail with milk bottle cap markers. Last time I came through was a day trip the length of Blue Range - I got tripped up a bit and ended up on the wrong spur whilst negotiating a change between maps. This time the strongly marked track running south east is my friend. 

Part way down there are some breaks in the canopy and I can see cloud, rounded by wind, still hugging the tops.   
   

Someone has gone to some effort to mark the route down. There are patches of windfall though, so more than once I have to cast around to find the trail again - still, progress is a lot quicker than I was expecting. I lose the track near the bottom but not before I have polished off the final spot-height for the weekend - 535. I crash down through supplejack and slide over a steep bank to drop onto the tramway track. Suddenly it's literally a stroll in the park for 10 minutes to the park boundary. 

At the boundary a sign informs me that it's two hours to Kiriwhakapapa via the old tramway - I reflect that at four days, my route was hardly a short cut, but it was far more interesting.

It's a lovely sunny afternoon so it's no hardship to wait while brother number one works out he's at Kiriwhakapapa and I'm at Mikimiki.

Postscript

Quite a productive (long) weekend. Some really varied terrain - the Bannister ridge is great fun; some weather challenges and a bit of scrub on the Saturday; great views along Tarn Ridge; and a bit of a hiding from the wind whilst navigating Table Ridge. And of course, at least 26 new spot-heights knocked off (possibly more if my recollection of the trip with school mates plays me false).