Cone SAREX - 2

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

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

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

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






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

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

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

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

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





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














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

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

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

Chez Paul - the lump in the middle is him

Room for two

How low can you go?

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

Snug?

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

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

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

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

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

Christian aid worker Fiona prepares for the ordeal ahead

The somewhat devout Cameron and me

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

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

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

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

Fiona and Cameron - very comfortable

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wairarapa SAREX 2019 - Missing persons team

Postscript

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SK Valleys

A few years back someone rather carelessly told me about a traditional challenge of 'doing' the length of the Tararuas in the space of a weekend. They should have had more care - the idea lodged and it was pretty much inevitable that at some point I would have a go. Without going into all the details, it is called the 'SK', or the Schormanns - Kaitoke, after the start and finish points. The Schormanns Track no longer exists so you leave from the nearby Putara Road end, but somehow 'PK' has not caught on - shame, it has a bit of a ring to it.

There are a couple of main options and lots of variations - the Valleys route is easier and more direct. The tops is longer and, not surprisingly, more exposed with considerably more up and down. Records exist for assisted and solo efforts, and the times being posted now are superhuman.

When I say 'easier' the Valley SK is still a small matter of 74km and a net climb of a little under 3400m.  I'm not chasing a record though - I'd just like to get the idea out of my head.

What:   SK Valleys
Where:  P to K
Why:     Because it'll bug me until I've done it
Who:     Solo, unassisted
When:   10 December 2016
Map:     Map

Preparation

With regular trips over recent months my fitness is at a suitable level and gear all well tested. The trip is on marked tracks, apart from a section at the start down the Ruamahanga River. I don't like rivers at the best of times, so checked it out a couple of weeks back. I've been over almost all the rest of it at some time, although it's been a while for some parts, and I'm not looking forward to scrambling around slips on the Tauherenikau (the subject of a long standing DoC warning).

On Wednesday I figure I've recovered from the previous weekend's exertions but the forecast is marginal - the story of this summer so far. The Ruamahanga River gauge drops gently over the next few days though, so at midday on Friday I decide it's a goer.

The plan is to start early Saturday morning, see how the day goes, and either soldier on into the night or sleep at one of the huts en route. I have a weekender hut pack (i.e. sleeping bag, no tent, warm layers, food, emergency gear) which means more weight but also more peace of mind. All up weight (with water) is 6.7 kg.

I complete the usual intentions sheet and send it to my PLB contacts with outlines of various contingency options.

The route

The original SKs involved trains, rail cars and taxis to get from Wellington to the track end on a Friday night after work. In the grand tradition I intend to catch the Wairarapa train, but then to spend the night in Carterton for a comfortable sleep and a drop off at the track end by an understanding brother.

The route follows the major river systems in turn as they run parallel to the length of the Tararuas in the east of the range, before each exits into the Wairarapa to join the Ruamahanga. This means a series of saddles and rivers, with huts around the more popular areas. It also provides regular milestones to mark progress: 6 saddles, 5 river systems (not counting the Mangatainoka) and 7 huts.

The final act is climbing up Smith Creek to Puffer Saddle and the long sidle and descent to the new (to me) road end at Kaitoke.

Kick off

At about 0515 it is dim in the bush but more than enough light to not need a torch. The clouds are gathered and threatening in the west, but it's not cold. The track along the stream and up to the junction is familiar territory.

Record shot - 0517

The junction (right to the Main Range, left to Roaring Stag) after 0:52 is my first saddle and at 1:40 Roaring Stag is my first hut (score: 1,1,0). The wind is strong in the tree tops - the sort where you get a little jumpy at creaks and cracks from overhead.

There's no-one in Roaring Stag as I fill in the log book, pause briefly, and checkout the river. Probably half a metre lower than two weeks back so it is looking good not to use the terraces (the high route that avoids the gorge section at Cleft Creek).

First sunlight creeping down one of the many slips

It's much easier travel down river this time. I hardly use the terraces, and boulder hop most of the way to the bluffs, about 0:45 min after leaving Roaring Stag. It's still deep, and I can't touch the bottom in places through the bluffs, but a lot less of a proposition than last time.

Looking back up through the bluff section -
deep on the true right but navigable by holding onto the rock

0:20 min later the gorge above Cleft Creek is unmistakable. The river runs onto the right bank forming a deep section against the rocky side. It's no drama to cross upstream in thigh deep water with just a little help from a koro stick.

Start of the gorge above Cleft Creek

The other side provides bouldery travel and a short scramble along a rock face opposite Cleft Creek. The river broadens and slows and another thigh deep crossing is easily accomplished. The track is on the right somewhere up on a terrace; I potter down stream a short distance to find a way to scramble up. Three hours after leaving the carpark I'm standing on the track (1,1,1).

Cleft Creek

Gorge above Cleft Creek

River below Cleft Creek

The first thing that is apparent is that a track team has been through - ferns, grasses and saplings have been cleaned off at ground level and markers have been added - fairly recently by the look of it.

The track climbs alongside then joins Cleft Creek and I am soon standing at the stream junction, which two weeks ago took 2:26 from Stag Hut with the river up and using the terraces route. This time, using the river route and the new track, it has taken 1:38.

Bear right but keep an eye on the markers because the track soon takes a new route

The next surprise is that the track takes a completely different route to the saddle. Instead of following a side stream, it dives into the bush and grunts straight up a spur. Eventually it bears right and sidles and rises for a long while to eventually hit the junction in the saddle, right beside the sign post to Waingawa. I'm stunned - I had stood at this point two weeks ago and saw no sign of this track.

However, right now I'm a little more focused on ticking off the top of the second saddle. It's 09:06, about 3:50 in, score: 2,1,1.

It's a short hop down to wade across the Waingawa and arrive at Cow Creek Hut 18 minutes later (2,2,1).

Cow Creek Hut

The track is now a fairly typical Tararua River track. It potters along in the bush, on grassy flats, across slips and in and out of side streams.

About 1:50 later the rather elegant Mitre Flats Hut hoves into view (2,3,1). The weather is still holding.

Mitre Flats 

I don't have fond memories of the Barton Track that climbs to the next saddle. It is pretty much as I remember: a bit of a climb up, a long sidle with a wee descent, then a drop into a creek, and a bit of a mucky scramble out and up again. I'm also starting to feel the distance already traveled. It is nice however to get to the intersection with Baldy Track and join the track I traveled last week (12:54, 7:37 elapsed, score: 3,3,2).

Descending from the saddle, heavy drops start pattering through the canopy, and by Atiwhakatu Stream the rain has set in. It's warm enough though, so I don't bother with a jacket. Between the two routes up to Jumbo I meet my first people - a group of three women who are following the old track up to Jumbo. We chat briefly but I can't tell them much about that route.

40 min from the saddle Atiwhakatu Hut (3,4,2) and I'm chatting to a couple who are just leaving having come in for a day walk. After filling in the log book, I take a bit of time for lunch out of the rain. I'm thinking now about when dark will become a factor. It's looking good to get through Cone Saddle which I hadn't fancied doing at night (it's years since I've been up through there).

The track now is a veritable highway and familiar from last week. It is also crowded as I run into a couple more parties and pass the couple from earlier.

Leaving the Atiwhakatu Stream (3,4,3) and climbing the River Ridge I start feeling a bit under the weather. Consequently it's a slow ascent. I figure I haven't been getting enough energy in, and focus on slowly nibbling through bars despite not feeling like eating. Voices ahead indicate I've reached Pig Flat. This is the route to Powell Hut and Mt Holdsworth but, more importantly, another saddle (4,4,3). It's 9:50 on the go now.

The Totara Creek Track is new territory. Last time I traveled in this direction it followed down the creek. Now it stays on the ridge above, then drops down a spur to cross on a solid swing bridge. The track is well bedded in now. This part of the trip should be quick going but I'm still making somewhat heavy weather of it and concentrate on just ticking along.

Totara Flats Hut is pumping when I arrive at 4:50 (4,5,3). It's hard finding a space to sit and drip and fill in the log book. A tourist kindly offers me some gourmet chocolate, and is understandably a little nonplussed that I am intending to leave a perfectly good hut at this time of day and in this weather.

The grass on Totara Flats is carrying as much water as it can hold and consequently deposits cascades of it as I brush through. A pause for the customary gaze across to the location of Sayers Hut - no-one to be seen but there's a waft of wood smoke in the trees almost indistinguishable from the mist. A little further on, a distinctive tang on the breeze removes any doubt.

A 'new' bridge has improved access to Cone Saddle Track. I remember a trip with school mates when Makaka Creek was a torrent and we sensibly turned back for an extra night at the old Totara Flats Hut. While we were there Greame Dingle came through with a bunch of hard youngsters and a camera crew. Later we heard a helicopter go over and I think the story goes that someone got swept away in a river crossing - not fatally fortunately.

Cone Saddle - camera in bag because of rain

I plod up Cone Saddle and meet a party of young women doing a trip for their Duke of Ed, together with adult chaperons. They are off to Totara Flats.

My memories of Cone Saddle is of a false top followed by a long sidle then a final wee 'up' to the saddle. I'm downright slow now and it takes ages to get through the sidle. Two creeks are significantly up but still quite passable.

At the saddle it's 7:28 and still light, but I arrived at Totara Flats Hut 2:40 ago so it has been slow. Still, 5,5,4 feels like progress.

21 minutes later I take a break at Cone Hut (5,6,4). There's a chap from the Rotorua Tramping Club in residence. He has come down from Alpha but spent the day in the hut. He has plenty of time, no firm plans and - hell, why flounder around in the wet when you don't need to!

I take a good wee time to drip on the floor, don jacket (it's not so warm now), fill in the log book, chat and ... yep, basically farf about and avoid getting back out there.

With head torch ready in pocket I eventually drag myself away. By now I have pretty much resolved that I may as well see this through, so there's a long evening walking ahead.

The Tauherenikau is making itself heard today. It's considerably up and you would not contemplate crossing to the Bull Mound Track. I am slightly concerned that I will hit a creek that is impassible somewhere down river.

Just before 9pm the very last of the light sees me to Tutuwai Hut: 5,7,4 and 15:40 on the go. A couple have a tent on the flats - he is in the hut and is tossing up whether to sleep out or in. The rain has finally abated so I switch on my light, top up my water and head on into the night.

It's hard to gauge progress in the dark. The only thing that provides information about the world beyond my torch light is the roar of the river. I know there are some slips to scramble around and the track does potter along and up and down - at one point there's a knotted rope but there's not much to indicate what's in the blackness below - very comforting!

I see numerous possums; ghostly in the light - twin pin prick eyes that look, disappear, then look again before heading up the nearest tree. A couple of times larger animals slip off into the undergrowth. When the track bears away from the river the odd Morepork can be heard. Otherwise I follow the tunnel through the trees and try to watch for markers and my footing at the same time until suddenly, I'm trying to make sense of what turns out to be a swing bridge support.

This is a major milestone. There have been no real navigational difficulties or impassable streams. I find out later that the rain had hardly touched the Wairarapa so the streams on my side of the river had hardly received anything whereas the Tauherenikau had had an ample dump in its head waters.

The interminable meander down river is now reduced to less than two km to Smith's Creek on a gentle track then the final climb to the final saddle. I don't even notice the shelter as I head past.

I confess to disliking this part - it can never be over fast enough. Smith's Creek represents the worst of accessibility, with the shelter often filthy and abused. The clay track beyond the saddle is lethal in running shoes and there's gorse among the scrub. Not good reasons to be so down on it - it's more likely to be something to do with usually being pretty much buggered by the time I get to this point and just wanting the pain to stop.

Picking my time I pop a gel tube with the idea that it will have well kicked in by the time I start up the wee climb to the saddle. Along the way there is a long standing bypass around a slip which I ignore - the route through is perfectly serviceable, even at night. Then the long drag up the valley, hanging out for the last stream crossing, which marks the short climb then sidle to the saddle: 6,7,5 - it's after midnight and, at last, I have run out of numbers.

There's cell reception now so I wake the long suffering support crew from her slumbers and she very gamely agrees to meet me at the road end. I'm somewhat surprised that it is quite a distance down to the new carpark by the entrance to Kiwi Ranch so she arrives only 10 minutes or so after me.

In the end, according to the time stamp on my start and finish photos, it took 19 hours and 43 minutes from P to K. Nice to finally get that out of my head - just the Tops version to do now. But not in one go I think.

Lessons

There's a few things that I would do differently when I don't ever do this again ...

My food choices were somewhat random; an assortment of bars, some emergency gels and can of sardines. I had enough but the bars proved to be a bit rich and hard to get down when I was feeling the pinch. Definitely need a little more thought.

A nasty case of chaff that had me walking like a cowboy for the next few days could have been prevented - tights are great for cool weather travel but do tend to rub a bit.

There are plenty of escape routes - I should have committed and not carried the extra weight of a sleeping bag and one of the extra layers.

I had a bit of a scrape on my forearm from last week and was a bit concerned about ripping the scab off and getting it infected. A telfa pad with a sleeve made from a nitrile glove with the fingers cut off to keep it in place worked brilliantly.

I was pretty stiff and sore for the next few days with the normal odd bruises, numb toes and the like, also a few wee spots where friction from clothing or pack straps had rubbed the skin off. Nothing that a bit more fitness and care wouldn't prevent. I also developed an interesting facial rash that could have been chloracne but for the absence of dioxin. It took a few days to clear - probably not shingles - possibly a heat rash, but seems a bit weird.

Running shoes were good and light but were lethally slippery on wet roots and rocks. Surprisingly I only got a couple of wee blisters but by the end it felt like someone had taken a rattan cane to my feet. I think I need something with a more aggressive tread, a bit of an instep and slightly more rigid sole.

Mt Reeves Navigation trip

The first winter storms arrived late this year. After an uncharacteristically mild start to autumn, this week provided Wellington with a sharp reminder of what wet and windy is like. The forecast for the weekend is equally unpleasant but suits a short trip into the Tararua foothills to practice navigation, knock off a section of route I'd been anticipating, and get a bit of bad weather experience without river crossings and staying off the tops. As you will see, two out of three ain't bad.

The plan is: to enter at Walls Whare and ascend to follow the ridge line south from the Cone Saddle track towards Mt Reeves, find an unnamed spur and descend to the Tauherenikau, stop in at Tutuwai Hut and maybe stay the night, then exit over Mt Reeves via Coal Stream.  And as you will see, five out of four ain't bad (click to see map of area).

I'm packed on Friday night so in the morning it's short work to get out the door at 05.15 and head-off over the Rimutaka Hill in the dark.  It's light  at 07.15 as I leave an empty car park at the Waiohine road end (not surprising given the forecast).

The bush is damp but not wet - the rain over the last week has softened the ground but it has been so dry that it is still just soaking in. A work colleague had remarked on this being the first week for a long time when the forest floor hasn't been dusty. Like him, I note that the undergrowth has perked up appreciably.

The track to Cone Saddle is very familiar territory now but I pay more attention knowing that I will shortly be leaving it to find my way along the ridge south.  Overhead the sky is clear and the sun starts filtering through the canopy from about halfway up. The wind also picks up, and the amount of dead fall on the track has me keeping a weather eye (and ear) out for falling branches.

It's dead easy to find my point of departure about an hour later near spot height 682: the track runs straight and suddenly turns right, someone has also put a marker on a tree indicating Cone Saddle (or Cone Hut?).

Near the turnoff to the Reeves Stream spur

The route turns out to be easy to follow, with a reasonably obvious ground trail: not too much overgrowth and sporadic markers (orange tape). Although not marked on the topo map, this route is clearly used often.  I practice taking bearings anyway, to make sure I will know when I reach my intended spur  - which I reach in about 35 minutes, a lot quicker than estimated. I had intended to keep going up to Mt Reeve and then return to the spur but decide that it's not providing much practice and if I get to Tutuwai early, I can reassess and maybe make this a day trip.

Again there are markers on trees indicating Mt Reeves in one direction and Cone Saddle/Walls Whare in the other - they don't point to the spur itself, but seeing as it diverges from the ridge exactly between the markers it is pretty obvious why they are there.


The spur travels down the true right of the Reeves Stream catchment and is pretty easy to follow. There aren't any markers that I can see, but enough ground trail to keep going with some compass and altimeter assistance. Near the top, the bush is a bit mossy with undergrowth and the route skirts off to the left of the spur, but it opens up pretty soon for very easy travel with little undergrowth.  A more authoritative account of a Tararua Tramping Club trip around this catchment is available here.

Easy going down the spur

I happily potter down bearing right at around 600m but lose the trail around 460m amidst game trails and a much busier under-story. I think I hit the edge of the clearing marked on the map at that point, as there is a lot of young Rimu and a break in the canopy. I don't try to regain the track as it's pretty straight forward to pick a way down to eventually reach the flats (mind the swampy bits) and eventually the main track. The Tauherenikau River is rushing along under sunny blue skies but doesn't seem overly swollen and it's easy going to lope along the track down to Tutuwai Hut to arrive at 10:00. The hut is empty and the last log entry is a week old.

Tutuwai picking up the morning sun

I had been thinking I would be thrashing around in untracked undergrowth for hours longer than this and might even stay the night at the hut, so this is just embarrassing.  After a look at the map I come up with a suitable plan B involving a sortie further south along the ridge from Mt Reeves. But for now it's back into the bush and a steep 600m climb back on to the ridge I've just left (Tutuwai is at about 300m).

Looking down track to where route to
spur diverges, to right of center tree 

The ground is soft but not slippery, some sections of track look like someone has bum-slid down, piling leaves up in large drifts; a result of enough rain to turn the spur-line track into a stream so it must have been a bit wild during the week. The wind is rocking the tops of the trees and occasionally attains that solid roar that is associated with the wildest days. There's plenty of windfall on this track also, so I'm inclined to be a little jumpy.

A steady pace sees me break into scrub at the 800m contour, 45 minutes later. There's clearly been an old burn or storm because the altitude is too low for this to be the bushline.  On the way up I see that before spot height 646 there is an obvious ground trail leading towards a spur that hits the valley floor near the mouth of Reeves Stream. Noted for another day.

The scrub provides views west showing a bit of cloud above the western Tararuas. It's not looking too bad at present but that's where the foul weather will be coming from.

Looking across to Marchant Ridge. Quoin ridge behind on the horizon at left, dropping right into a notch then climbing to Alpha in the cloud. Spot height 1060 on Marchant in front of Alpha, Omega is the next lump up ridge to right of 1060, the indistinct knob to left of 1060 is 953; the top of the Block XVI track.

Sharp knob on horizon to right of center Winchcombe(?), cloud over Hector to left of it.  Bull mound on ridge in front rising gently to Omega to the left. Rounded top of Cone on right of photo. Tauherenikau River below seen through mouth of Reeves Stream catchment. 

The catchment down to the left is Reeves Stream, the spur in the middle distance (just above the top of the shrub) is the route down from the ridge to the right.

The first requirement of Plan B is cellphone coverage. There's plenty so I call in my changed intentions and turn my attention to finding a route south along the ridge. It's a little after 11, so lots of day left.

I miss the spot and flail about in the Draccaphylum before finally working my around to the correct line. The ground trail is obvious in places but much less so than earlier in the morning.  There is also a lot more undergrowth and I find it's a little tricky picking your way through teenage Totara.  Because it's the main ridge line it would be pretty hard to get really lost but it's quite wide in a couple of spots so it's good compass practice. I successfully navigate to and over three spot heights before reaching Tauherenikau, the highest point on the ridge at a not so startling 899m. It is also, like the rest of this section, under the canopy so there is little view apart from the odd window across to the Marchant Ridge. Still, it's 12:50 so time for lunch tucked into the lee below the modest cairn that marks the 'summit'.

Cairn at top of Tauherenikau - not much to see here.

The trip back along the ridge is a little easier as I have a better feel for the route although still wander on and off it.  The last hundred meters to the Mt Reeves track is not so obvious but I struggle onto the track and sure enough there is a nondescript marker on a tree that I had missed at the start. It's 2:40 - about 3 and a half hours  after I left this track. I figure it will be getting dim around 5pm so turn east for the short climb onto Reeves. After a few photos I take my wobbly knees and descend the wide track to spot height 745 arriving at 3.25.

Nondescript turn off south to Tauherenikau just before leaving bush

Same shrub in foreground as earlier photo - bad weather spilling in from the west

South from Reeves; spur on left horizon runs up to Tauherenikau,
 the ridge between here and there provided the entertainment for the last few hours

From top of Reeves looking north; nice day to the east, rubbish coming in from the west

My topo map does not show the route from spot height 745 to the Waioine Road end swing bridge where I started, but it is on the newer online map, suggesting that DoC might be reinstating it as a recognised track. It's an old route following a definite spur and I've heard it's not so hard to follow. However, any delay route finding or struggling through undergrowth will mean it's dark on the steeper lower section meaning an uncomfortable night in a bivvy bag under a tree (I'm not so keen on night time nav through a slippery gully).

Turn-off to Coal Stream track

The online and printed maps differ as to how the track starts in relation to spot height 745. On the ground there is a large DoC sign on the Mt Reeves side of the spot height. The main track down skirts to the south of the knob and the Coal Stream track climbs onto the knob from behind the sign. There are also some old markers on the trees and all the way down the track.  The sign warns that the three wire bridge over Coal Stream has been removed - I figure the catchment is small and there's been no rain today so this is not likely to be an issue.

Navigational concerns disappear as there are lovely new yellow triangles marking the way and an obvious track. I'm thinking it's not far to go now but there is a small matter of 600m to lose. There's a bit of undergrowth to work through at the top but it's mostly under open beech providing good going. Towards the bottom it steepens and drops into lush bush with a rich, slippery humus so it gets a little treacherous. The stream is as expected - requiring wet feet but not large flows (although it could be).  It's dimming in the bottom of the gully but there's still plenty of light. There's a short scramble up to the terrace where my track diverged this morning - the turn off to Coal Stream is not marked but it is obvious, and just where the Cone Saddle track heads right and starts climbing.

Cone Saddle to the right, Coal Stream to the left

I drag my protesting knees back across the swing bridge to arrive at the carpark at 4:20. There's three other cars in the park and a camper van in the camping area, so people are clearly heeding the forecasts. The trip home is a little slow as the car starts overheating on the Rimutaka Hill but with a little nursing I get home in the early evening. A soak in a hot bath then a warm bed is somewhat more pleasant than a bivvy bag in the rain.

Coda

This was a great day trip achieving everything I had set out to do and more (apart from the lack of the forecast foul weather, but no complaints on that score). Although I always keep an eye on the map I have generally been hoofing along marked tracks entailing paying attention in a completely different way. The ridge was perfect: the canopy forcing a reliance on map, compass and watch, rather than observation of visible landmarks. The morning provided a gentle introduction and the afternoon a little more challenge. It is also relatively forgiving in that marked tracks are generally not too far away and many spurs look navigable (although I wouldn't recommend dropping into Tait's Stream).

The Coal Stream track is a really good option to and from the main carpark (much better than the grovely bottom section of the Reeves track and providing a good loop trip option). The trip to Tauherenikau which had been in the far recesses of my mind was the icing on the cake.

For future reference I need to get better at estimating travel times through various types of terrain and remembering exactly when I left the last point. At present I am using the altimeter to confirm location but would like to reduce reliance on this.

Poads Road to Waiohine

Easter is looming and a few ideas are percolating around possible routes. Otaki Gorge being closed puts a dampener on a few plans, but eventually Plan A crystallises: Thursday arvo follow Te Araroa  into the north-western Tararuas (behind Levin), travel down the Main Range to exit via Waitewaewae, Otaki Forks and Waiotauru to Akatarawa Saddle. However, a number of Plan Bs are noted on the intentions sheet left with home command ... the main one being to connect at Waiohine with Mike, Angela and Toby who are over-nighting Saturday at Totara Flats. That is provided I can call-in the change - how did we ever tramp without cell phones?

Thursday 24th

We leave for the coast about 2pm smug in the knowledge that we will be beating the usual long weekend Kapiti traffic fiasco. Wrong; nose to tail until Waikanae and over an hour later than expected.

       

Kapiti traffic - Roll on the Express Way.

Much better at Poads Road Bridge
A little gloomy though.

Ready for action

At 5pm with sunset due around 7.30, the trip up to Te Matawai is looking ever more likely to end  in a bivvy beside the track. Te Araroa heads up Waiopehu Ridge giving the opportunity to stay at the hut at the bush line, but I'm taking the Ohau Gorge Track and up Gable End Ridge - so named (I assume) because it's a little like climbing the side of a house and wandering along the roof.

It's overcast and warm, so much so that at the bottom the shirt goes into the pack. The light gets dimmer until (7.15pm) the last gasp of evening sun angles in just under the cloud bank and just over the Waiopehu Ridge. The dim bush takes on the golden highlights for a few short minutes before fading into deeper gloom.

The track is reasonably easy to follow but eventually the fading light calls for the head torch. There's no signs of life from Waiopehu Hut across the valley as I come up and over Richard's Knob and join Te Araroa. The lights of Levin and possibly Palmerston North are briefly visible through the cloud.

It's quite a different proposition in the pitch black but I manage not to lose the track or fall off the edge. As it drops towards Butcher Saddle I'm concentrating on keeping upright on the slippery roots and only gradually notice the white noise of the river filtering up from the valley below. A couple of Morepork are exchanging calls from close by but not a chance of seeming them, otherwise it's a still and humid evening.

In the saddle the cloud filters through the trees scattering the headlight but finally there's a sign advising that left will take you to South Ohau Hut via Yeates Track or half an hour upwards to Te Matawai - and that's pretty much how long it takes, arriving a little before 10pm.

Judging by the log book, Te Matawai gets pretty good use and I'm lucky to have it to myself. The log is full of references to 'NOBO' and 'SOBO' - finally it clicks - it distinguishes between the NOrth BOund and SOuth BOund Te Araroa travellers.

Flashes and grumbles from a distant thunderstorm fail to materialise into anything more than some heavy drops on the roof and a bit of wind during a restful night.

Friday 25th

It looks pretty foul on the tops as I head away from the hut bright and early (well, 8.45). Pukematawai and the range to the north are invisible, but my route south down the main range intermittently peeks through. The view behind (norwest) however remains bright, with Te Matawai Hut gleaming in the sun staying visible most of the way up the ridge.  Beyond, Waiopehu Hut is just discernible if you know where to look.

Looking Back - Te Matawai Hut is the bright spec mid-left.     The near ridge runs down to Girdlestone Saddle, Gable End Ridge behind it and Waiopehu somewhere on the horizon

Looking up towards Pukematawai (obscured)

A little over an hour after leaving the hut, Pukematawai is inside a cloud with a decidedly cool and boisterous wind whipping over the ridge and trying to nick my cap. The sign at the top looms out of the clag with the cheerful advice that Dracophylum and Nichol Huts are a mere 3 to 7 hours away ... unspoken is the amount of exposed ridge between here and there.

Top of Pukematawai 200m away 

However the ridge drops away from Pukematawai and soon there is a reasonable view ahead with the Park River head waters below to the left and Te Matawai yet again visible in the distance - to the north now. I'm even thinking I might need to crack out the sunscreen. However, for the rest of the day there's more wind and clag and very little view to the east.

A more encouraging view south above Park Valley. 

The track is good going and easy to follow although the cloud soon closes in again. Across the valley a helicopter is operating - possibly on Carkeek Ridge - hopefully hunters and not a rescue.

I had been thinking of stopping for lunch at Dracophylum Hut, which is a small cheerful looking two berther, but it's only 11.30 so elect to head on for Nichols.

One for the hut baggers.

Coming over Nichols it's getting more seriously unpleasant and I'm conscious that there's a good few kilometers of exposed tops ahead including the highest point of my trip at Mt Crawford. I'm looking forward to a bit of shelter and a chance to fill up and rug up at the hut, which proves to be in good nick.

Around 2pm, cheese, salami and pita bread feed the inner man and raincoat and other pieces of kit are relocated from pack to person. The forecast is for the weather to clear. I'm quite comfortable in the conditions as they stand, and have extra layers should it deteriorate, so am happy to leave the hut and head on.

Leaving a perfectly good hut - Nichols.

With little view there's little point hanging around the tops so I count off the spot heights to and past Mt Crawford. I also grumble at myself for bringing glasses instead of contact lenses - the east-most lens misting over rapidly after each abortive wipe. Things are going well and I'm feeling pretty good so fish out the cell phone and text my intentions to switch to Plan B and the Waiohine Road end. A confirmatory response means a short stint further along the ridge to Anderson's rather than the long plunge to Waitewaewae.

There's two sets of fresh foot prints on the track so I'm half expecting company when I arrive at Anderson's Memorial Hut at 4.30. However, the log book indicates that the owners of the feet are heading on to Aokaparangi Hut. Being a two bunker I figure I might be a little less than welcome if I follow them, so call it quits for the day, hoping for another night with a hut to myself.

Anderson's Memorial Hut.

I was taken with this hut the first time I passed through with its situation on the edge of an alpine terrace enfolded on three sides by the bush. It's pleasing to see it in good nick and with an intact log book including my entry from three years ago.  There's also one SOBO entry from a poor soul who missed the Te Araroa turn off at Junction knob and has a little back tracking to do.

I don't need the fire as I'm looking forward to an early dinner, bed and undisturbed sleep.

Saturday 26th

The clag is still drifting past the windows in the morning but it could be a bit thinner above, so I'm hopeful of some better weather today. The clothes are not noticeably drier than yesterday afternoon, but it's not cold enough to be unpleasant. 

Departure time

The track dives straight into mossy beech forest to dip and then climb. 35 minutes after leaving I'm looking back from the flanks of Kahiwiroa at a bank of cloud with Mt Crawford above in the distance.

Mount Crawford and the range disappearing to the North

An hour 45 after leaving (and having shed some kit) I'm enjoying changing cloudscapes from Aokaparangi. A lot of the ridge travel may be in clag but the wind is light and the breaks provide some beautifully typical Tararua views.

North from Aokaparangi

I'm still following the footprints from the party that came through yesterday afternoon with some occasional fresh deer prints. After the turn off to the hut, the prints re-appear fresh so they have clearly regained the trail after a nights rest.

The way forward and South - a little gloomy

Forty five minutes later - much better!

My recollection of the next section is of several steep clambers and losing track of the number of spot heights. I do a little better this time but it is quite lumpy and I'm still expecting one more when I realise I'm ascending Maungahuka. The clag drops away behind and more of the main range is visible north and south. The wind has also dropped to a most uncharacteristic calm.

North from the shoulder of Maungahuka ...

... looking up to the hut ...

... and southwest to the Tararua Peaks ...
I swear I could see the ladder when I took the photo but can't spot it now.

Just before 12 I stop in at the hut to find that the footprinters have left 45 minutes ago after noting in the log book their nervousness about tackling the ladder.

At the top of Maungahuka I see two figures angling up a steep face beyond the peaks and can hear their voices in the still air.  They have clearly overcome any nervousness about the clamber but are too far away to be able to exchange information.

The peaks scarcely register with climbers but they are a little daunting to trampers for the first time. I was a bit hesitant about tackling them on my own so follow their progress with proprietorial interest, imagining how they'll be feeling and expecting that their enjoyment will be all the sharper for the passing nerves.

Decisions

Although it's tempting to carry on along the range, about 1230 I turn my back to follow my ridge down into cloud and a thousand metre knee-curdling descent.  The sun is hot for a brief period but thins as the mists thicken long before the bushline (1100m).

Down into the gloom

There's not much to say about the rest of the descent - the 100m rise over Concertina knob prolongs the agony but is a good excuse to stop for lunch. I also pass through the territory of a couple of fantails who flick by to see what's up and three rifleman who just go about their business barely giving a glance to my pathetic attempts to imitate their high-pitched sounds.

Eventually there are glimpses of bush rather than cloud across the valley and river noise from below. After the final scramble down, the trees open to show the crystal clear Hector River flowing over clean grey boulders. Also the gleaming white form of a naked man gingerly easing himself into the frigid water. I pause briefly until he's fully committed then trot out onto the swing bridge calling a cheerful greeting and condolences about the cold (hmm, that could be misinterpreted).  I'm probably the first person down the tracks in days so his luck is not in. Kudos to him though for a full immersion in a cold river on a cloudy day.

Naked man just out of shot to the left

It's 2.20 and Neill Forks Hut is just across the bridge. It's also full with a party from the Hutt Tramping Club including Naked Man. There's a couple of semi-pointed remarks about my intentions and the number of bunks, so I accept a cup of tea and indicate that I will be heading on.

Half an hour later I'm on the way up Cone Ridge for the second time in as many weeks, but from a different direction.  The knees quite rightly grumble about a 600m climb after the mistreatment down from Maungahuka. However, an hour later the ridge provides for more relaxing travel south in recently familiar territory.

Phew.

It's a little before 5 when I reach the tops at Cone. The cloud keeps coming and going and it is a little different to a couple of weeks back ...

Cone

Then and now ...

I figure I can make the road end before it's too dark, and there's cell coverage, but Brother Number 1 is away from home so can't do a pick up, and I don't relish camping at the road end. Cone Hut it is then.

It's a pretty quick trip down the ridge to the saddle stopping briefly for (another) fruitless attempt to capture the magic of sunlight through goblin forest.

As good as I think I'll ever get on my phone

There's another pause when I run into the tail end of a party of seven. It's 5.30 and he's going pretty slow, so too is his wife five minutes further on, and two young woman another five minutes later. At 6pm at the Saddle the other three are not particularly concerned about the progress of the rest of the party and elect to follow me down to the hut - I'm figuring the rest will be hobbling in well after dark.

At 6.30 I'm first at the hut and get dibs on the sleeping platform. A solo chap soon turns up from Kaitoke having eschewed the crowded Tutuwai, despite which he's keen for a chat and a chain smoke.

A little later the two women from the saddle turn up having left the third chap behind. The mystery of the mixed party is resolved - four of them are from Marsden College doing a Duke of Ed. trip accompanied by the required adult supervision that they arranged via face book. The son of said adults makes up the party. The parents and the other two students eventually turn up just before 9pm - much to my relief as, very selfishly, I wasn't keen on being on a search party.

They are having a fairly eventful time - the trip from Totara Flats Hut via Cone Ridge has taken almost 10 hours; one of them has impressively bruised her ankle (and is pretty upbeat about it), and the father is going through all sorts of agony due to various health conditions including the aftermath of a broken back.

After a few days of my own company it's pretty full-on, but the students are quite competent with what they are setting about and considerate.

The sleeping arrangements resolve into six in the hut, parents under a fly (by preference), and the solo chap on the table outside. I thought this was a little mad but it didn't rain and he was adamant he didn't require floor space in the hut.

Sunday 27th

There's is absolutely no hurry for me in the morning so I let the mayhem clear a little before I exit pit and arrange breakfast. Solo chap is tossing up exiting via Marchant or Dobson Loop and the other party is aiming to exit over Mt Reeves. The lass with the injured ankle is strapped up and the father decants gear to his family to lighten his massive load. The Duke of Ed team are packed first and have remarkably economical packs. Eventually the last of them head off and the hut is suddenly quiet in the morning sun.

Built in 1946 Cone hut has survived some recent vandalism but shows signs of continuing graffiti assaults by the mindless. A rather nice slab woodshed has been built with a small water butt from the roof and the uneven dirt floor has been covered with tidy plywood. I remember being very relieved to reach this hut on a previous occasion and hope it serves for many more years.

The sun streams through the trees for the trip over to Walls Whare which is becoming quite familiar. I meet a man and woman with rifle and dog on the way up but no-one else until the swing bridge. About an hour and a half after leaving the hut I'm hunting out Mike and Angela's car on a hot sunny day. They turn up a couple of hours later with Toby having enjoyed camping out on Totara Flats. In the meantime I've had a wash, dried my gear and brewed my last coffee sachet.

Coda

I was happy with how all my kit performed and it was great to finally negotiate the territory from Pukematawai to Junction Knob. The route was interesting and varied, with the capacity to be significantly challenging in bad weather. I reckon it would be doable in two days by the fit, but two and a half to three allows a little more time to enjoy the views, take a few pics and not have to leap out of bed early.

All up, a mighty fine long weekend.

Gear notes

Mostly used standard kit. The penny stove performed fine inside and in the open at the Waiohine carpark. Still wouldn't want to rely on it for trips not involving huts. Macpac bivvy tent was carried but still remains to be rigorously tested. Zamberlan boots continue to impress with their comfort, lightness and (so far) durability.