One Kelleher weekend

With the remaining forest park spot heights now countable on one hand, the object of this weekend's exertions is hardly surprising.

I have two in my sights. Kelleher is a knob just beside the Main Range Track which I have passed, but never deviated onto the actual knob.  By my rules I can't count it because it is separated from the track by at least a contour line.  The other spot is south west of Kelleher - pt 870 is awkwardly perched on a spur halfway up (or down) the side of the Mid Otaki Valley.

The next problem is how to get to them in as interesting way as possible (in a weekend). I reluctantly decide that it will have to be Poads Road and the Te Araroa Track to Waiopehu Hut, from there I can leave the marked track and head along Oriwa Ridge to Oriwa before taking an interesting looking spur to the Mid Otaki River. This puts me at the bottom of the main spur for the long haul up to Kelleher. The Main Range Track then gives access to the top of the spur to pt 870 and back down to the river, which I'll follow down to the Waitewaewae forks.

I'm quite pleased with the route out that I've devised - it's as near as damn it a straight line from the Waitewaewae River to Mick then out via the Waitohu Stream - pleasingly aesthetic.

With daylight hours now somewhat curtailed it's going to be a challenge to get through and out by end of Sunday. So, a Friday night torchlight trip to Waiopehu Hut is in order.


What:     Navigation trip to a couple of spot heights
When:    3-5 May 2019
Where:   Waiopehu to Waitohu via Kelleher
Who:       Solo
Maps

In the scheme of things ...



Most of Saturday

Sunday

We almost beat the Friday night traffic up the Coast by leaving at 3.30. A quick stop in Otaki, for supplies and not so great burgers, then out to Poads Road.



At 6pm the sun has set and it's dead calm as I wave good-bye to the support crew. Headlight on, I head across the farmland, prompting startled honking from the odd paradise duck. The beam is a bit marginal (possibly something to do with leaving it in a damp raincoat at some point) but just enough.

As I start the slippery climb, the last of the evening light creates odd patches of texture in my peripheral vision. Moreporks start calling up valley and a goods train's rumble vibrates the air. Although coolish, it's still so I soon have a bit of sweat up.

I'm waiting to see the signpost where the 6 discs track heads left looming in my headlight - this will mark where the ridge levels for a longer more gentle climb. I haven't seen it when the track starts doing odd things. I'm still following orange triangles but the quality has deteriorated and there are no longer little reflective stickers. There's windfall and things get somewhat confused.

I know it's the wrong track but despite back tracking and casting about, can't find where I joined it. I sit down in the dark to sort things out; eventually setting a bearing and heading off in a hopefully sensible direction. Soon I see a reflective gleam and all is good again.

Not much else to say really, there's no moon but plenty of stars and I'm regretting the last few beers I had on Thursday night.  This may go some way to explaining why I have guzzled all my water and am completely parched by the time I reach the hut at 10.20pm.

Empty. I quickly settle down, only to be disturbed briefly by a possum or two thundering around on the deck. Popping out to send them on their way, I'm treated to the fairy lights of the towns strung across the black Manawatu Plains, shimmering with the distance.

I'm not in a hurry in the morning, so it's after 7 before I emerge to find I've missed dawn.  The sun is peeping between cloud banks and morning mist forms milky pools in the valleys. There's a cloud ceiling at around 1300m which looks settled so hopefully a cool day is in store.

Late dawn

Around 8.10am I'm heading up the track behind the hut. Where it tops out on Waiopehu there's a bit of a  foot trail that diverges right. I follow this down beside the scrub on the ridge until it eventually slips into a channel through the leather wood. There are intermittent pieces of orange tape which are easily lost when the ridge top widens but no hardship to just follow the compass.



South from Waiopehu to Oriwa - pt 1024 to left

Just before the top of Oriwa there's a clearing (marked on the map - 9.40am). A cup hanging on a tree marks where to veer left to reach a wee roof and water barrel. Across the clearing there's a large flat space in the trees where hunters camp (and leave their rubbish).

The water supply

Camping spot by Oriwa Clearing

I have never quite found the ideal way past the clearing - always managing to end up in bog, leatherwood or, today, an unpleasant combination of both. At 10am I'm at the top of Oriwa and texting the support crew to say that everything is on track.

Someone has left a pink ribbon to mark where the ridge continues from Oriwa - you can follow this all the way down to the Waitewaewae Forks - it used to be a track but I would classify it now as a classic 'off track' Tararua route.

My sights are set slightly closer to hand - the top of the spur I am after is reasonably clear and quickly confirmed with the altimeter (1050m).

There's a little bit of trail and it's good going, but there's a few points where attention to the compass pays off.  A more solid trail develops after I run into signs of DoC biosecurity activities.

It starts with blue triangles marking "Bird MO 22" and when I get to Bird MO 19 there's blue triangles leading off spur, a tracking tunnel and some sort of funnel for collecting falling stuff.

It's satisfying to ride the spur all the way to it's end. Just after 11.20 I pop out beside Murray Creek and pause to work out my next steps.

Murray Creek - delicious

It's only at this point that I realise that I'm just up river from the Mid Otaki Hut (not marked on the map) - only 300m and a perfect spot for lunch. 10 minutes later I'm strolling onto the flats keeping a weather eye out for someone that might be inclined to mistake me for a deer.

Mid Otaki Hut

The hut is a cheerful little two person prefab on a large flat by the river. It has double doors and is clean and light inside.  It's not marked on the map as it's a DoC biosecurity hut and probably not permanent. There's no log book, which surprises me (Island Forks Hut has one).

I chew on an early lunch (Camembert and fruit bread) and study the map. Last time through I was picking up spot heights along the valley including the foot of my next spur - the spur shape is pretty messy but I'm picking that there will be biodiversity trails on the lower parts, and probably an old tramping/hunting trail to the top.

And so it proves - I head off around 1200 and scramble to pt 595. Soon after the Bird MO markers from this morning appear and the number keeps counting down as I climb (I think 10 is the last one I see on the way up). There's also a couple of old school track markers but no other marking.

Towards the top (1.45pm) I pop out on a couple of rocky outcrops that give views up and down the Otaki Valley and across to Oriwa Ridge.  I can trace my route down from this morning.

Looking down Otaki Valley

Once out of the bush the spur climbs over a series of knobs to the top of Kelleher and views across the Park Valley (2.05). The highest peaks disappear into the cloud ceiling that has persisted all day.

South from Kelleher ... I think

The track drops off Kelleher and into goblin forest where it undulates along, taking an irritating long time to get to Nichols. I bump into a possible Canadian who turns out to be a late season NOBO (north bound Te Araroa walker). He has taken a break picking fruit in Motueka and is just going to pick off the best bits of the North Island before winter. I'm pleased to have a break so chat for a while.

At last I break out of the bush for the last scramble up to Nichols. By now I've decided that I don't fancy bivvying out on the spur down to the valley or trying to navigate off track in the dark. The sight of Nichols Hut tucked below the ridge clinches it. There's reception so I break the news to the support crew that I will be later out tomorrow than expected and head down to the hut. At 3.45 it's somewhat early to be knocking off.

Nichols Hut from Nichols 

As usual for this hut, the logbook has complaints about no firewood and the woodbin has no logs.

Unusually for this hut, I can see down the Waiohine past High Ridge and (I think) the Wairarapa in the distance. The tops are still hidden above the grey ceiling, but I can see more of the surrounding ridges and spurs then I think I have ever seen from here.

The hut is under 10 degrees so I don't hang about admiring the view but get into clean warm clothes and sit in my sleeping bag reading everything in the hut until it's time to make dinner.

With the cloud starting to blow in from the north west it's dark early and I settle in for a good long sleep. Around 8pm lights loom on the ceiling - I peer out to see a glow on the ridge. This resolves into three head lights marching down through clag to the hut. The headlights are attached to three women who clump into the hut. They are doing the SK Tops and have decided they are too far off the pace so are pulling the plug (this is the third 'not quite' attempt I have come across this year). 

Despite having walked all day they are full of energy and talk - I hardly get a word in edge wise.  They are clearly super fit and experienced in the outdoors. They keep the talk up as they munch through cold dehy and discuss options for getting out of the ranges. That's one of the problems with the SK - when you get to the point of bailing, you usually have some tricky decisions about the quickest route out, how to get a pick up, and what to do about your car that is now in the wrong place.

They quickly decide to exit via Waitewaewae and whirl out of the hut again like a mini tornado - except that tornadoes are unlikely to be inclined to talk about the etiquette of peeing in pack rafts.

Their torches and voices fade up to the ridge and I return to my slumbers.

I've set the alarm before 6 so it's dark when I get up.  I take my time to breakfast, tidy and pack before reluctantly pulling on slightly damp gear. Outside it is getting light enough to reveal clag with intermittent drizzle. This is Nichols as I remember it.

I add a layer and pull on balaclava and coat before heading out at 7am. The wind is up but not strong enough to coat my right lens with moisture. I follow the foot prints up the ridge and over the series of knobs to the 1320m contour, where I figure the track will show a bend and a bearing will take me to my spur. I certainly won't be seeing it in this muck.

The shape of the slope is obscured and the wind pushes drizzle directly into my face as I potter (stagger?) down into the grey nothing. I drift onto a false spur once and by following the compass land directly on the spur as it starts to take shape.

There is no problematic scrub zone and it's a relief to slip from the clag into the calm between gnarly, mossy trunks. There's pretty good ground trail although I don't note any old markers. The spur is pretty good to follow - there's a couple of points that are apparent on the map where you want to check the compass but it's generally good.

I'm wandering along when something white catches my eye ahead. My first thought is something man-made, as I get closer I have a random thought it might be part of a plane.

Closer still and another item comes into view - now I'm thinking it could be part of a helicopter.

I cast around and a short distance away there is the remains of a plane fuselage mashed against a tree. Beside it on the forest floor is a mangled seat and bits of plane are scattered across a wide area. Any thought that someone could survive such a crash are dispelled by the catastrophic forces evident in the shredded and dispersed debris.

It looks newer than any others I've seen and I guess it might be a plane from the 1970s. Given the location I'm pretty confident it is well known, but I hadn't heard about it before (not that I've looked). A quick internet search afterwards reveals it crashed in 1982 with three people killed.




As always, these sites set you thinking. The wreckage marks a real human tragedy, often involving the sudden, violent deaths of quite young aircrew (particularly in the war era crashes). Despite this, there's a sense of disconnection - this involved no-one I know. At best you're really just a tourist - at worst a voyeur. And the remnants are inevitably blurring and dissolving as moss, corrosion and the weather gradually obliterate the evidence - even the most resistant materials are slowly disappearing into the forest. It's hardly surprising then, that (with a few exceptions) there seems to be a tendency for trampers to be respectful of these places and not to interfere with them.

I look around the area for a while before taking a note of the altitude (probably close to accurate) and heading on down the spur - passing a few final pieces of debris on the way.

At 8.45 I'm at my second and last spot height for the weekend. The fourth to last on my list. It's every bit as remarkable as many other spot heights. It's also the point where I deviate from the line of the spur to follow a side spur that will take me slightly further down valley.

Fourth to last - three to go

There's not much trail now but it is still pretty good going and I successfully navigate down to the flat top at 520m before a sharper drop to the junction I have targeted.  It's 9.40 so, although time is still tight, I'm happy enough with progress.

The periodic drizzle has kept the river boulders slippery so I'm careful as I potter down valley. It's quite pleasant until I stumble across the evidence of a successful but brainless hunter. Half a deer is sitting in the river shallows with choice cuts removed and guts spilling into the water. The other half is a few metres down stream. So, if you know someone who was hunting in this area, with a .223, who left a carcass like that - tell them they're a twat.

In the interests of seeing new territory I follow the river bed all the way to Waitewaewae Forks instead of diverting onto the terraces on the true left at the appropriate point. The river immediately starts forming pools and deep sections by the banks so I have to cross frequently and have a few mid-drift wades. It's slower going than expected but I am at the forks by 11.40 so stop for a bite and study the map.

Waitewaewae Otaki Forks

I reckon it will be about 20 minutes up stream with four side streams to reach my target spur. It's always hard to tell though - was that an unmarked trickle or a marked small stream? The last stream has been shifting a lot of stones so is quite distinctive and seems to make sense against the map. I top up water and start the climb.

I don't really think it is a used route but it's ok going. After about 200m the compass confirms I am on the right spur and I settle in for the grind.  There's quite a bit of windfall. I disturb a deer on the way up - so far I have only heard them and I haven't heard any roaring. I wonder if it is the weather or if their habits have changed with the end of the roar.

The slope eases quite a way from the top, and it takes a long time to finally roll onto the ridge. I can't see a trail, but know that there is one to be found, so take a bearing and turn north (1.55).

The travel is a bit mucky. The trail comes and goes, there is a lot of regrowth and windfall, and areas of leatherwood to negotiate or bypass. I drop down the east slope to try to avoid the worst.

Once the marked clearings start there is a channel cut through the scrub, which is somewhat overgrown but still navigable. It's still claggy and drizzly and I'm not in the best frame of mind - I'm overly conscious of the clock ticking and a little nervous about navigating the western slopes in the dark.  I haven't been able to get cell phone reception to confirm progress.

These are perfect conditions for a mistake - and I'd hate to disappoint. The word "Mick" on the map partly occludes a knob on my ridge - I climb this knob thinking it is Mick and take a bearing north. There's a bit of ground trail and although I am surprised at the lack of markers I bowl off down discounting the fact that the slope is a little greater than expected.

Getting suspicious, I check the altimeter - 794. This should have flattened at 830. Bugger.

I suspect I know what has happened, but the occasional gap in the trees gives no clues - just more clag. Back on the knob I find a trail and am soon on the way to Mick proper, where I find a quite well marked trail doing exactly what it should be doing. Things speed up but it's getting noticeably dimmer and there's a long way to go yet.

I'm thinking ahead - I want to keep a pace that will get me a good distance before dark. But as I drop the clag will lighten and as the sun sets it will light the western foothills.

Near pt 860 there's a wee plastic plane hanging on a tree, indicating where my trail heads down. I lose it at the top but am soon on the steeply dropping spur and generally finding my way. As predicted it starts to get lighter.

I give a nod to the site of the Ventura bomber crash on the way past but do not divert to visit the distinctive wing. Soon the path joins an old logging trail and things speed up again. Although dryer, it is still steep and slippery in places, so the best I can manage is a cautious jog at times.

At the bottom it's a bit dim but the track drops into a series of grassy clearings near a stream. It's not that well marked and I end up following the Waitohu Stream for a while before joining a wide platform that follows and crosses the stream a couple of times. It's pretty boggy in patches but generally quick going. I settle in for a few Ks before another couple of Ks on the access road.

Coming over a rise I see a silver car a few hundred meters away - it's the support crew. She's found her way past the quarry and to the end of the access road (bottom of the spur to 309). Apparently there's five gates but the signs are all about being careful, and don't prevent access.

I'm mightily relieved to be chucking sopping kit into rubbish bags at 5.30 and a K and a half earlier than expected.

Postscript

An eventful weekend. The Friday night walk in was more tiring than expected - I reckon this set me up for the truncated Saturday. Getting to Oriwa is somewhat familiar now - it's a good 'off track' route. I was pretty pleased with the choice of the spur down - keep an eye on the compass and the shape of the spur - the trail is better further down with lots of blue DoC triangles at various points.

Mid-Otaki hut - never stayed there but I quite like the spot.

The spur up to Kelleher is an old route - a bit of windfall and no real marking - could be kinda tricky on the way down as the spur shape is a bit messy. Interesting at the top with the rocky outcrops, views and series of knobs up to Kelleher.

The Main Range is the Main Range. And Nichols Hut is Nichols Hut - just in the right spot for when I was running out of steam. The night time visitors were a gas.

The spur to 870? Well, it had a plane crash - that was unexpected. Surprisingly navigable at the top - some annoying windfall but a useful route to the valley floor.

The river is the river and should be treated with respect. It's worth knowing where to find the old trail, on the true left, if the flow is up at all.

I didn't enjoy the route out quite so much. But it is worth getting around this area as it us a useful access way and there a quite a few little byways.

Spot-heights - two more down and three to go. I have the exact trip in mind for the remainder but that will, I hope, be a story for another (not too distant) day.

Makaretu Stream and Spion Kop

Call it confirmation bias, wishful thinking, stag fever, pattern matching ... our minds are easily fooled into seeing what we want (or are expecting) to see. I must have been a bit absent minded this weekend as I manage to illustrate a number of examples of this particular cognitive failure.

The first example of bias is wishful thinking - in this case looking at the map and hopelessly overestimating how much distance I will cover in a day.  I had been thinking to get into the Otaki headwaters before dark, but in the end sundown catches me at Lake Hollow on Oriwa.

As a result of this and the weather, the intended spot-height bagging returns a net score of nil. I do however visit Spion Kop (which sounds far more intriguing than it actually is) and circumnavigate the catchment of the Makaretu Stream.

According to Wikipedia, Spion Kop was the site of a battle in the second Boer War which was won by the Boers. It took place from 23-24 January 1900. Wikipedia is not so forth coming as to why the name has been attached to an obscure knob on the edge of marginal farmland in the Horowhenua.


What:    Navigation trip
Where:  Spion Kop and Makaretu Stream
When:   12-13 May 2018
Who:     Solo
Maps:

Large scale view

Start and end bits

Middle bits

The trip up the coast is punctuated by a successful foray off the express way to the Olde Beach Bakery - highly recommended purveyors of delicious baked products.

I had been intending to head out to Tangimoana Road to take a farm track up to Spion Kop (marked on the topo map), unfortunately the land owner there is less than obliging so that's off the cards. Instead, I follow Poads Road to the end and bump into the leaseholder in those parts as he is heading out with a boot full of chainsaws. He indicates that the land by the mouth of Makaretu stream has a new leasee but it should be ok to follow the stream bed.

I park by the bridge (next to the sign that says there is no Queen's chain) and at 0750 leave the car with a little bit of trepidation. This spot is a bit more visible and I wonder if it will still be in one piece on my return.

Car park

There's space between the fence and the river to walk to reach the stream - which is quite a good size (and a little up). The paddocks soon give way to bushy banks and a gorge, however the bottom is generally wide enough that there is only a couple of scrambles to avoid deep bits. There's a few terraces and flats with lots of lovely punga.

In the gorge

A little over 2 hours later I reach the flats. There's an initial false alarm (a small open area before diving back into a narrow section) before reaching a long series of flats with lots of cutty grass. It's generally pretty good going although you can get mired in the grass if you pick the wrong line. I discover that it is fairly easy to miss the side streams which is a little bit tricky when you are trying to navigate by them.

About 25 minutes up from the start of the flats there's a(nother bloody) hunters' camp on the true left. It looks like it got a lot of use once but is now just a pile of litter, like most of these structures.  I think this one might be near an old route to the ridge above Spion Kop, but I have my eye on a spur further up.

Hunters' rubbish

The flats - Panatewaewae to right of centre (probably)

There's another camp about 15 minutes later in a similar state and 10 minutes after that (about 1050) I just about miss my stream as it flows out between clumps of cutty grass.

Another camp

It's a bit of scramble onto the base of the spur with no signs of tracks. It's relatively young forest - lots of slippery black humus and healthy fungus but open enough. A little over an hour later (1100) I emerge on the ridge top to find a good ground trail with old orange spray blazes. I follow this down to the edge of the farm land where it pops out onto a grassy knoll with a survey pipe by an old farm track. The track leads down to a series of little knobs - one of which is Spion Kop (about 12.30).

Not Spion Kop but it does have feet

Magnificent vista from Spion Kop (I think)

The cloud ceiling is about 1500m so it's a bit of a gloomy view to look at while I have a bite. The farm here consists of a narrow strip of land around the tops of the spurs - there's a few cattle beasts about. 

Back in the bush it's getting cool and the wind is coming up. The track leads nicely up to Panatawaewae where the markings finish and the trail becomes far less distinct.  There are only two spots though where the compass is needed - both where the ridge drops into a saddle. The bush up here is reasonably mature with some windfall to contend with. I assume it is largely regrowth following logging and the 1936 storm.

For some reason I'm feeling a bit tired so stop for a breather - after which I set off purposefully in the direction from whence I had come. This could possibly be characterised as some sort of bias, but I think it is more an example of some sort of stupid. Fortunately I twig before I've gone too far.

It's taken a lot longer than I had thought to get this far so, by the time I reach the ridge junction south of 890 I've decided I won't be dropping into the Otaki headwaters tonight. Depending on progress from here I will either stay near the top of Oriwa (Lake Hollow where this is a roof with a water tank and plenty of camping spots) or maybe pop through to Waiopehu hut.

Look, a marker - this must be a track ...

I have been along this part of the ridge twice before - both times finding it easy to get mislaid in the flattish, swampy bit just south of the junction point. It's 1530 and fairly cool but not raining. There's a few old plastic markers but little ground trail until the ridge top sharpens on the stretch towards 918.

The drop to the saddle is a little tricky - it's the sort of place you would expect to see a useful marker because people must come through here. I don't notice anything and overshoot slightly, following what turns out to be another one of those ubiquitous disappearing game trails (another example of bias?).

A bit of a scramble brings me back onto a better formed spur with occasional wee windows down Makaretu Stream, it's about 1610.  I suspect the trick through this saddle is to keep close to the north face and follow the spur NE into the saddle then grab one of the two sketchy spurs that head SE up to Oriwa and Lake Hollow (I think I follow the later and can't say there is a significant ground trail).

Makaretu Stream

The bush is quite mixed through the saddle but ends up with a climb through reasonably open trunks chasing shafts of burnt orange sunset up the hill. At 1710 I'm at the ridge top seeing the last of the sun dip below the horizon beneath a lowering sky.

Lake Hollow in the last of the light

A roof without a hut
(second time my only photo here has been rubbish)

Lake hollow is as soggy as usual, I pause to clear the guttering on the roof then get a move on to make the most of the rapidly fading light - sights firmly set on a dry hut for the expected overnight southerly rain.

There are a few tape markers and a reasonable ground trail but both rapidly become invisible in the gloom. The ridge is well formed and, following the compass, I manage to keep to a line, although frequently wander off and end up clambering through more tree falls than you would in daylight.

The wind rises and it starts getting quite cold - the odd piece of orange tape is a welcome confirmation of progress.

Finally, the ridge starts climbing steeply and the trees give way to leatherwood before the canopy disappears completely. The open sky swallows the headlight and this lone tramper suddenly feels a lot more exposed and vulnerable. Shortly afterwards I lose the trail in the tussock and thrash around the slope expecting to drop onto the track at any moment.

Here the dreaded bias comes back into play - when I eventually reach the track it is running at an unexpected angle - my brain runs a convincing argument that the only way it would be running in this direction is that I crossed it at some point and have circled back. Full of confidence I turn in the wrong direction and head off  thinking that the lights on my left (probably Palmerston North) are Levin. Ironically, this direction is taking me to  Twin Peaks - the site of a memorial to some trampers that died in that storm of 1936.

The track drops and then starts climbing - finally my brain accumulates enough dissonant feedback to suggest that we stop and regroup. The compass seems to be pointing in the wrong direction and I can see a light behind me. I think the light must be the hut but taking a bearing on it makes no sense whatsoever (it was probably around Lake Hollow but I didn't see anyone there when I came through). Finally - trusting the compass and the line of the track, and applying some logic (the muddy track has such high use it can only be the main thoroughfare) I turn around and trudge back into the saddle and up to Waiopehu to finally drop down to the hut.

At 1930 I came in from the cold to be met by candlelight and a growling dog. A party of three (plus dog) are retiree friends who came in Wednesday aiming for a northern crossing but wisely turning back with poor weather on the tops. The two women have turned in but the chap obligingly heats water while I slough off wet and muddy kit. 

Things are decidedly more cheerful in dry clothes and with a full stomach. My hut companions are reasonably quiet (once the dog settles down).

For the record - although the dog was reasonably well behaved I am still of the view that dogs don't belong in huts. I'm not about to start an argument though so keep my thoughts to myself.

The rain starts in the early hours of the morning and keeps a steady blatter against the windows - in the morning it transpires that it is driving straight into the porch so some of the things left to dry are not as dry as hoped. The dog takes one look outside and decides it can hold on a bit longer.

As usual, my brain has come to some conclusions during the night - in this case, that we won't drop down a spur to what might be a swollen Makaretu Stream so the most practical exit is straight down the track.

I'm first out at about 0800 - it's raining but not windy and the cloud ceiling is a good 100m higher than the ridge. The track itself is alternately a bog and a stream stream, but once under the canopy I warm up and soon shed gloves and balaclava and start regretting the merino layer.

Morning

It gets quite dim under the canopy but the rain stops and it's nice to potter down through the wet bush.

The rest of the trip? Not much to report really - the intersection with 6 discs track at 0930; the bottom of the spur about 1010. The paradise ducks set up their habitual racket as I wander across the farm flats to arrive at the usual road end at 1020. 10 minutes later I'm reunited with the car, which I'm delighted to find in one piece.

6 discs intersection

Postscript

Not all boxes ticked but some new countryside and a satisfying wee explore. Makaretu is worth a look but watch for hunters and be careful about access. The Otaki headwaters are still very much unfinished business - unfortunately there is now one less unexplored route to get there.

Nil spot-heights for the weekend? Oh yeah - the rules (more like guidelines really) are that only spot-heights in the forest park count - most of this trip was actually outside the park boundaries or covered points I've already been.

Levin to Otaki with dry feet

There is nothing quite like the pleasure of perusing a map, identifying unexplored corners and promising trips to be stored away for future reference. In my case, added to a list on my cell phone to be ticked off over time.

One such potential adventure was the result of idle speculation about a chunk of land in the western Tararuas with the most intriguing possibility being to follow the winding ridge lines from behind Levin to Otaki forks without dropping into any stream catchments in between.

It was somewhat beyond my meager navigational capabilities at the time but with a few trips under the belt and having nibbled at the edges of the route a few weeks back (link) it felt like it was worth a crack.

What:    Below bushline navigation trip along winding ridge lines

Where:  Poads Road Levin to Otaki Forks

Why:     Challenging navigation exercise under a bit of time pressure
Who:     Solo

When:   Friday evening 14 October 2016 to Sunday 16th

Map:      Link

To get a good head start I negotiate a drop off on Friday after work, with the intention of getting to Waiopehu hut for the night.

Tramp

A few chickens are moping about the car park as my ever patient support crew drops me off under lowering skies.

Rain is threatening and it's a bit cold, so I'm well dressed as I head out a little after 5.20pm. My route coincides with Te Araroa: crossing farmland to climb into the range via the Waiopehu Track.

The sun occasionally manages to slant in under the cloud and the going is pretty good, albeit on a fairly sodden track.  About 7.45 I'm at the clearing just past the old hut site and it's getting dark.

The bush is quite wet so I'm pretty soggy arriving at the hut in the dark with the lights of Levin hidden in the clouds. It's 8pm and has just passed the point where a head torch is necessary.

Mercifully the hut is empty, providing the opportunity to run through a few pieces of music I need to know my way around. I've been roped into an impromptu family choir for an aunt's birthday as the token representative of the less musically endowed corner of the gene pool. Okay, a bit weird but there's nobody to hear and the acoustics are good.

Momentary sun on Waiopehu Track

It's a quiet night and I've had a pretty good sleep when it comes to pulling on damp gear next morning. A brief gap in the clouds reveals a dusting of snow along the main range to the east but the cloud soon closes again.

Morning view from Waiopehu Hut

Waiopehu Hut

Around 7.15am it's a short climb from the hut to the top of the hill where I look for hints of a ground trail leading to Oriwa Ridge. This ridge is a major feature running south and west from Waiopehu and seems to be reasonably well traveled, although not officially tracked.  

There's a bit of a trace to follow down through the tussock off Waiopehu into the bush and sporadic tape markers. The trail itself is easy to lose amidst the ubiquitous game trails, and the ridge is fairly broad, so it is easy to wander. However, following a compass bearing sees me pottering along and eventually into the clearing below Oriwa around 8.45am.

There's snow in the air and I'm pretty wet. The clearing boasts a small roof, collecting water into a barrel, and people have stashed bivvy materials in the surrounding bush.  I make the mistake of trying to follow the clearing, which pretty quickly becomes a scrubby bog. Back under the shelter of the trees the going is much easier.

Water catchment - and a wee bit of snow

Oriwa marks where my route departs from the main ridge. I can't see any clues as to a route and there are a couple of possible spurs. I select one, take a bearing, and head down.  The saddle to the west of Oriwa is pretty broad so it's just a question of finding the path of least resistance. 

In the saddle there is a small stream then a bush bash up the hill to the ridge above 918m. I don't find any evidence of a track in the saddle, but towards the top a bit of a trail develops. On the ridge there is something to follow northwest, and even an occasional old marker.

The ridge system here is somewhat convoluted with some boggy patches to negotiate. Under the canopy and in the cloud it is easy to drift off line, so it's better to trust the compass then my sense of direction. In the end it's pretty straight forward getting on to the ridge to 955m and the ground trail is stronger, suggesting that a few people come through here on the way to Panatawaewae to the north.

Near the top of 955m there is apparently an old crashed aircraft. I find the location and cast about in the bush but don't find it - I haven't paid particular attention to the description of the site and although there was a prominent marker on a tree I didn't want to waste any more time. I take a bearing and find markers taking me in the direction of Waitewaewae.

It's quicker than expected through this section, given that there had been more traffic through, so I truck on to Waitewaewae.  Which is where things go a little astray.  In retrospect I was over-relying on the markers - I noted one that indicated a direction of travel that corresponded with my compass bearing and confirmation bias took over. Unfortunately I hadn't traveled quite far enough, so the spur I started down was heading in the right direction, and at a similar steepness to the real route, but soon dropped into a stream gully through steep, rotting bush. A gap in the canopy revealed a ridge to the north where I should have been. By now the quickest way out was to bash through a couple of stream gullies and up the steep side of the ridge. 

It's tough going and by the time I'm back on route well over an hour has been wasted in some fairly challenging terrain. A bit of a sit down and a bite is in order. Still, at least the weather has eased up - cold but not raining. I'm a bit more careful about navigating down the rest of the ridge - at one point a spur heads north and down and there are indications that a bit of traffic goes that way - possibly an exit via the old mill site on the Waikawa Stream.

Following the compass I don't have any problems getting on to the ridge running south from 730m. At one point there is suddenly an old but well formed 4WD track which I follow briefly, before it dives right and down, while I follow my compass south.

It's pretty good going now and my route suddenly comes across the marked track to Mick. The pace increases but evidently my attention declines as I meet some markers heading in an unexpected direction. After a deep breath and a sit down I realise that I've almost done a 180 - probably around a bit of a knob (which is precisely what I am feeling like). A bit of a talking-to and I continue in the correct direction with a little more care.

This is now territory I have traversed in the opposite direction but I have no illusions about the chances of drifting off route. Soon enough I pop out into the clearing below Tangata Maunga. The late afternoon sun is streaming across the ridge. It's cold but the open horizon and view out to sea is refreshing after a day under canopy and cloud. I'm completely out of water so top up at the tarn (it's been so wet recently I figure it must be pretty clean). 

The track through the scrub is reasonably easy to follow up to the small clearing with the trig.  From now on I'm on the look out for a spot to pitch the tent that is not too: exposed, wet, rooty, steep ... It's a very small tent so you'd think it would be easy. In the end I find a man-made clearing with a view and a only slightly sloping clump of grass, around 7.15pm.

Transferring self and dry gear into the small bush cocoon is challenging at the best of times and it is far easier to do it without rain. It's still light but I've been on the go for 12 hours now so I stash wet gear outside, crawl into my pit, pull on dry clothes and start chewing on something for dinner while I wait for my feet to thaw out. Progress for the day was not too bad despite getting ... mislaid.  I'm looking forward to a more relaxed day tomorrow.

Inside the Macpac bush cocoon

Last of the light

It's a quiet night, I get a bit of condensation dampness on the outside of my bag and discover my site is a little more sloped then I thought, but it's all good.

Next morning there is a little bit of cloud about but the sun is breaking through over the main range giving a cheerful prospect to the day. I'm looking forward to a wander down ridge with little time pressure. There's even cell phone reception so I call in my intentions, before heading out around 8.15am.

Packed and ready to go

There is some very good marking of the route on parts of the ridge but this is a two-edged sword. At one point the markers assertively head off down a spur which I gradually realise is not the main ridge. There are a few points where compass and map are required and it's often not immediately apparent how to stay on the main ridge.

At one point, within the space of a few minutes, I frighten first a family of black piglets that explode squealing off the ridge edge, then a family of white/grey piglets that follow suit. At this point I'm always a bit nervous about running into a cantankerous mother pig.

A little below 400m and at 12 noon, the trail breaks out on to grass land and the view across to the slip on the Otaki Forks access road. Based on the map I should be able to follow grassland down to my right, to a couple of terraces above the river separated by a spur.

View to the slip with the forks road running across it

Map and reality diverge somewhat: there's plenty of scrub, steep banks, streams and bushlawyer. After two trips I still haven't found the best route through the bottom section of this ridge. It takes a bit over 20 minutes to drop down to the grassy flat, then a nasty struggle through horrible scrub around the spur that separates the terraces. A steep erosion gully that plummets into the river forces a scramble up and away on rotten ground through disintegrating vegetation. Fortunately this puts me onto a lovely benched track somewhat above the level of the terrace - tip for anyone looking to travel through.

The trail joins the two terraces and part way along I note some pink tape and a trail heading up - this may be the best route up the ridge (certainly more promising then what I've just been through).  The second terrace has a bit of swamp on it, so I head to the edge above the river and follow it around to the scarp above the Waitatapia Sstream.

It's odd to be so close to Otaki Forks but seeing it from a completely different angle. And knowing that there's still a bit of tramping to do to get there.

Edge of terrace looking towards Otaki Forks
Judd Ridge on horizon at left

I'm hoping to see some tape to indicate a way off the terrace as the map shows it's all pretty precipitous - no such luck.  There's a gap in the bush edge and some old cut branches at one point before the end of the terrace but the map says it is still on the edge of the scarp so I continue to the end where there seems to be a bit of something that might once have been a trail. It quickly degenerates into a precipitous scramble down through supplejack.

At the bottom the Waitatapia Stream is up but easy going. I've heard there is an option to cross the Otaki River near here but I've not done it before and there's been a bit of rain. I turn left and wade up-stream 300m to where I dropped off the opposite terrace a few weeks back. Some train wheels I hadn't noticed in the grass last time through mark the spot.

"What's that?"  
"It's a bogey man!"

The spur I went up last time -
my advice is: don't

The scramble up through bracken is steep but straight forward and I decide to see if there is an easier way across the terrace than last time. Some tape markers follow east along the top of the scarp which feels like a sensible way to avoid the boggy flats. On the way there's a good view down to the Waitatapia Stream and the spur I grovelled up last time.


A bit later a moldering sign indicates the old route to the bridge. Any semblance of a track quickly disappears into dense scrub so I follow my nose up through bracken (avoiding some healthy bushlawyer) to the Waitewaewae Track.

At this point in the trip there's always a bit of impatience for the end. The adventure has been had and the last stroll across grassy flats to the carpark can't be over quickly enough. This probably explains why I am a little short of forbearance for the couple that are blocking the swing-bridge with their dog while they take leisurely photographs. Eventually I get past and at 2pm number one support team rouses herself from her kindle in the sun to greet the slightly battered and scratched figure shambling into the carpark.

I think this one can be chalked up as a successful trip with a few more lessons learned the hard way - now it's off to River Cottage Cafe in Otaki for a late lunch.

Someones else have been out and about this weekend