Showing posts with label nichols hut. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nichols hut. Show all posts

Saturday, 4 May 2019

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.




Sunday, 27 March 2016

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.