Waitatapia circumnavigation

One of the unexpected pleasures in life is discovering that you still have half a cup of coffee left that hasn't gone cold. This is akin to the feeling you get from the realisation on Wednesday that, for a change, there are no commitments in the weekend that prevent a sortie into the hills.  It leaves relatively little time to work out what and where, but I have a ridge in mind and something can surely be made to work.
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What: Solo overnight tramp
Where: Waitatapia catchment in from Otaki forks
When: 10 September 2016
Why: Navigation practice, check out the ridge for a possible future trip,
trial new sleeping bag, check out detour on Waitewaewae track,
check out new road across gorge road slip.
Map: Link
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The Waitatapia stream catchment lies near Otaki Forks and stands out on the map for its symmetry; laid out like a leaf blade pointing north. The ridge of interest is on the true right and runs north east then swings north passes through Tangata Maunga, past Mick and eventually onto Thompson. The reason I am interested is that I've figured that one day I should be able to join it up to Waiopehu. But not this weekend and not before I have a bit more navigation practice under the belt.

Usually when I find a spot that looks interesting on the map there are a number of trip reports to be found from various tramping clubs and invariably something useful from the Tararua Tramping Club. TTC have some almost useful material in Tararua Footprints (link) but not for what I have in mind. Other reports relate trips from Waitohu Quarry up to Mick and Tangata Maunga but nothing on the south end of the Tangata-Thompson Ridge.

Hopefully there isn't a good reason why people don't seem to frequent the area. I suspect most people that come into the Forks area are intent on stampeding up Judd Ridge to Field hut or along the Te Araroa route to Waitewaewae (YTYY).

Although my intention sheet describes the trip I think I might be doing, the plan is still not fully settled by the time I arrive at the Otaki gorge road slip and home command has been informed of two options. I park-up and look across the river to the ridge up: possibly a bit scrubby in places but should be doable.

Ideally I would cross the river at the bridge just short of the gorge road slip (marked on the map) and take one of the prominent spurs or grass clearings to the ridge but the bridge is not sign posted; I assume it is private so head to the Forks car park.

After a miserably cold week the weekend weather is for some showers on Saturday and improving on Sunday, not too bad. There is one ute in the park at 7.30 as I head for the Waitewaewae track in dull conditions. The owners of the ute are taking a break with their dogs at the swingbridge over the Otaki river before hunting the flats where I am heading. They aren't concerned that I might frighten anything off. Probably after pigs.

I wander across the somewhat soggy flats aiming to hit the Waitatapia stream somewhere with a prospect of climbing to the opposite ridge. There are a few bits of pink tape which lead me slightly unexpectedly to an old steam boiler with bogie wheels. I have heard this called saw mill flat and the track up to Waitewaewae follows an old bush tramway. This must have been quite industrious when they were hacking out the podocarp forests.

Sawmill flats

Same engine, Judd Ridge in the background

The 'track' dives off the edge of the terrace with a bit of a scramble down to the stream. Any thoughts of crossing with dry feet are soon dispelled, a bit annoying when it's the only water crossing for the day. I start up the 'spur' I've selected (BP33 890 735) and quickly find myself in amongst it: steep and covered in supplejack and kiekie. It's a bit of a struggle for a start but eventually it opens up a bit for a clamber up to the ridge. There's a bit of a ground trail on the ridge line so I suspect there is a better route up from lower down (possibly from the grassy terrace on the true right below the forks).

The ridgeline is generally pretty easy to follow and for a start the trail pops in and out of the bush with a few grassy tracts on the west side. Soon there is cell phone reception to confirm travel intentions and views across to the slip on the gorge road. The road marks a hairline fracture across the scarp and looks ridiculously vulnerable. Behind is the cleared forest of the spur where the bypass track runs.

Looking south to the terrace above Otaki Forks and Judd Ridge

Gorge Road slip

The ground trail is pretty good and Mr Pink-tape man has been through.  At either 655 or 650 (the latter I think), the ground trail splits and some pink tape leads off to the left, it doesn't feel right and I note that one is marked "Wallow Ridge" I assume this is the local (and fair) name for the main ridge and this is a marker for trappers coming up a spur. A quick back track and I'm on the right line again. There are a few other spots where map and compass are required but the ridge pretty much runs south-north so it's hard to miss.

Around 700m patches of snow appear on the mossy ground beneath the canopy, it gets thicker further up and is present to a greater or lesser extent until I eventually drop off the ridge to Waitewaewae. The wind is whooshing through the tree tops and I am regretting the wet boots from the stream crossing as toes (and fingers) become somewhat numb. 

A bit chilly

Just before Tangata Maunga there is a clearing (looking suspiciously like it was created with a chainsaw) giving a good reason to pause to look out to the coast and Kapiti Island basking in sun that has been conspicuously absent. Shortly after I duck into a low snowy tunnel through leatherwood before popping into a clearing with no view but a trig. Tangata Maunga - just over five hours from the car park.

The sun breaks through and apart from the snow on the ground it's almost summery.

View to Kapiti Island - a nice day out there!

View down - (another feet shot for Angela)

Tangata Maunga Trig - 912m

Leatherwood, Dracophyllum and trig with beech

There is quite a reasonable track through the scrub if you cast around which leads, in a bit over five minutes, to a weather station and view up to the next lump and my point of departure from the ridge: Mick.

Hydrology station just past Tangata Maunga

The route ducks back into the bush to drop gently then climb gently. When it starts dropping again I figure I must have just passed Mick, I'm about to stop to check compass and map when I pop into scrub and discover that I have already left the main ridge and am on course east around the top of the catchment.  About 2pm and time for a spot of lunch.

South down Waitatapia Stream catchment.
Tangata Maunga on right, heading for ridge on left. 

There is pretty much a track now, it clambers over a wee knob into bush again and past a well made bivvy site then back into scrub in thick snow. There are signs of scrub having been cut making the travel somewhat easier. To the east is mostly clag at about 1000m but with tantalising glimpses of beautifully snowy ridges.

Last sight of Kapiti - still in sun

The day is starting to get on a little and a bit of fatigue is setting in so time to get on with the slog through the snow. As the route swings south the track becomes a lot less pronounced, I wonder if hunters use this as a commuting route, pealing off to the Waitewaewae catchment at Island forks via spot height 872.

The ridge is quite easy to follow although the trail comes and goes. The only thing is to work out how far along the ridge I have traveled and which of the various knobs is next. I think I have it worked out but a break in the trees provides an opportunity to confirm by taking a bearing on Tangata Maunga.

At 875 pink tape appears again but heads off right, possibly an interesting route down into Waitatapia but not where I want to go. Shortly after the trail takes a marked left kink which means my departure spur is near. On the map it looks reasonably well formed and should take me down to a point where I can drop onto the track about a kilometer from the hut.

There are a couple of points where you can drift off the spur but it's generally good travel and easy to get back on again, in the end I pick a point and drop south off the spur and through increasingly gloomy bush down and down, keeping the sound of a stream to the right. Eventually it levels into a bit of a boggy patch and then suddenly; the track.  Whew.

The track surface is refreshingly solid and the surrounding trees don't break when you lean on them. A little of the weariness drains away but it's a fairly slow meander to the hut arriving just before 6.30 in the dark. All up a little under 11 hours from the forks.

The hut is empty so I hang up wet gear, have a bite and crawl in to my new sleeping bag (MacPac Epic 800). It is more than up to the task of warming up cold extremities. I'm sound asleep when a couple turn up after 9 but they are mercifully quiet so it's a great night's sleep.

The whistling trill of a warbler drifts into the hut as I lie in bed and watch a patch of sun creep along the skylight. For some reason the warbler has always been a sound associated with hot summer air and cicadas; this morning the air is decidedly cold and my bag is decidedly warm so its after 9:00 when I finally figure I wont wait any longer for the others to stir. I sneak out of the hut and pack in a wee corner of sun that is cruising across the deck.

Waitewaewae in the morning

Wet gear is never the nicest but the sun is starting to warm the air and soon enough I stop to shed layers.  The track is positively teeming with people (three); I run into a chap coming down Arapito stream - he says he camped on the way in and has left his tent to pick up after popping into the hut. The track ambles up the stream gully then levels on to the plateau for a pleasant wander through sunny bush. Just where the track used to plunge down Saddle Creek there is a large orange triangle pointing to the bypass track (about 1hr 25 from YTYY hut). I briefly consider the slope to the right which leads (eventually) up to the ridge I came down yesterday; it would be an interesting option to close the loop on another day.

Can't miss the bypass

Bottom end of the bypass

The bypass track doesn't have the solid base of an established track and there are lots of little roots and supplejack to trip the unwary - the sort of stuff that gets trodden down on an established track. It meanders along and up with occasional views across to my ridge of yesterday basking in bright sun. As it starts to drop I come across a bright orange tent pitched on a flat spot on the track smaller than a coffin. Poor bugger - if he'd traveled another 20 minutes there are some beautiful camping spots on the plateau. Another chap is coming in with a day pack and we exchange a few words to estimate our respective remaining travel times. The track is a bit rough in places with a spectacular tree fall to clamber through. It drops reasonably gently for quite a while and it takes a bit longer than I expect (a bit over an hour) to finally level out onto the original track on the tramway platform; lovely, wide and flat. The turn off is just as well marked as the top end.

It's plain sailing now just stopping for a few photos, say hello to another day walker and look at the view. Eventually the swingbridge over the deep waters flowing from the Otaki Gorge hoves into view for the second time in two days and it's a short jaunt across the terrace back to the carpark.

Waitatapia Stream - Otaki Forks and Sawmill Flat in the distance

Sawmill Flat - the target ridge running up to the right

Otaki River

About 3hr 20 after leaving the hut I sling my pack into the boot and leave a full carpark to head out along a busy road. Otaki Forks is back to its busy best and I'm quietly chuffed with a good we nav trip.

Kaiparoro

Over the past few month I've been exploring some of the foothills in the eastern Tararuas so it was inevitable that Kaiparoro would eventually catch the eye. I'd never really noticed this out of the way corner near Mt Bruce; defined by an acute bend in the Ruamahanga and neatly containing the Makakahi headwaters.

Information on the internet is fairly sparse but there are a number of references to a plane crash site, some geocaches and a few trip reports (see links at end).  The weather forecast is a bit unpleasant and the map says there's only a few clearings so it looks like it will provide good navigation practice.

What: Solo one day trip 
Why: Visit air crash site, navigation practice in unpleasant weather, visit neglected wee corner of the Tararuas
Where: Makakahi catchment, Kaiparoro and Tawhero
When: 30 July 2016
Map:  Link to map

It's a short drive up a gravel road off State Highway 2 to the road end which is exactly that and no more. A turning bay, a barrier across the road ahead and no signs to indicate a track. At about 7.20am I follow a 4WD track a few meters down to the river which is unexpectedly at normal flow; calf deep but no avoiding wet feet.

Kaiparoro road end

Morning light

Across the river the track is pretty easy to follow although I head up an old forestry track at the wrong point and rather than back track just bash up through manky pine forest to regain the track. There's a few old forestry tracks about and I don't see any DOC track markers until well up the hill. The track up the hill is an old bulldozed forestry track so solid, wide and easy to follow.


It changes from pine to Manuka then mature bush as it climbs. To the east the sun angles in through the tall trunks.


The track to the trig is well marked but not sign posted, leaving the bulldozed track as it starts heading off to the right; about 40 minutes after leaving the car.

Turn off to Kaiparoro

Less than a kilometer later the track to the crash site is easy to find and follow; 55 minutes from the car and about 20m before the bush opens onto the top clearing. A solid ground trail leads off to the left and there are some markers on the trees (easier to see from up hill). The trail is well marked and potters along to the spur then follows it down aways, the first intimation of the crash is a piece of aircraft alloy tied to a tree (15 minutes from main track). Within a few minutes the track ducks into a small gully on the spur with a tiny stream (probably dry in summer).

The aluminium cross is the first thing that emerges in the relative dimness. Lodged in a small mossy cairn by a trickle of water with pieces of aircraft strewn around the slopes. The pieces seem to lie pretty much as they would have after the plane smashed into the spur, scattering debris as it disintegrated.

Near the cross an engine has settled solidly into the gully floor with ferns growing around it and water running through it. The cowlings have been ripped away exposing the workings (by modern standards simple). It is all remarkably undisturbed, small and loose pieces that thoughtless souvenir hunters would usually pilfer are still there. A few have been collected and put by the cross where the pilot and sole occupant, Flying Officer David Leary (aged 27) is buried.

Flying Officer David Leary

Engine nacelle

I don't try to find all the wreckage on the spur but take a few photos and then sit for a bit. It's sad that the pilot was so young, and unsettling to think what the last few split seconds must have been like; the ridge emerging suddenly from the clag leaving him just enough time to realise the inevitable and grit his teeth. The wreckage lay undiscovered for a year.

In the scheme of things it is just one accident in 1952; a long time ago. The nature of the tragedy however lends itself to attributing human sentiments to the site, ascribing a somber character to this unremarkable spur in a less fashionable corner of the Tararuas.

Sitting in the quiet forest I take some time to think about my uncle Scott who died recently in a car accident. The similarities: a truck appearing out of nowhere and the resultant destruction. And the differences: 83 years of life well lived and loved compared to 27 years that might have stretched to 91 today.

Changing mental gear I head back up the spur to the clearing at the top of the ridge.  The trig is visible across the russets and greens of dracophyllum, leatherwood and tussock. It's quite a pretty landscape. The weather is threatening in the west and clear in the east, on the ground there are occasional tiny patches of snow.

Clearing at top of Kaiparoro

Kaiparoro trig

West ... my route is along the lumps to the left

Kaiparoro trig - somewhat weather beaten

From the trig I can't find a specific ground trail but take a bearing for the saddle to the east, it's not to bad travel across the broad top although a little scrubby in places. I duck into the bush a little bit early thinking the going will be easier - it isn't so return to the clearing until the top of the route into the saddle. There's some tape at one point but it is a little tricky on the broad face before the ridge forms a defined top. Once under the canopy travel improves and some ground trail comes and goes.

A veritable Totara lawn sprouting from a suspended log

I'm trucking along on a good ground trail and overshoot 835 - coming back to the clearing from the north and having to find my way across it. The clearing is to be avoided; masses of fallen timber and bushlawyer. As soon as I can, I get onto the south eastern side of the ridge where game trails and possibly some old tramping tracks provide some reasonably good going.  Thrashing through the odd clearing or wandering off line slows net travel down a bit.

At a couple of nondescript points there are metal survey pegs in the ground - they are not on top of the ridge or near any particular feature that I can see.

Random survey stake

View south to where I'm heading
I think that's Tawhero on the left and 962 towards the right  

The wind is well up now and it's trying to rain.  It's sheltered in the bush but the clearing at 858 is unpleasant and I don't find an easy route across. This is the first area on the route where I have been expecting navigation to be tricky.  At 12:15 I'm looking out for indications of a route towards the Roaring Stag track; a little over a km away down a gentle shelving spur. There are three markers on a tree at a point where I suspect you would head off. After that there's some ground trails but it's a little wandery getting through the saddle to climb up towards the southern ridge and point 962.

Probably marking the route towards the Roaring Stag track

The wind is strong now and at one point I step gingerly past a tree that is rocking alarmingly, its roots lifting the mossy ground at its base. Whilst well formed, the track passes under low branches which indicate more animals than people pass this way. There's a few scrambly bits on the way up but it's not too bad bush bashing to get to the scrub which has a bit of a trail.

At the top the wind is strong and cold. Turning east it's a struggle to keep from being blown about and stinging rain and sleet quickly numb one cheek. It's somewhat mixed travel along the ridge, the scrubby section's aren't the worst but the legs get a battering against the tough leatherwood and the wind hurtles between the knolls on the ridge. Under the canopy going is good and I've overshot Tawhero before I know it. The altimeter has given up the ghost so I'm a little short of confident of my exact location but know that in this weather I'm not keen on trying to find my way around to a possibly non-existent route off the south side of Tawhero.

The streams draining the north of the ridge in to the Makakihi look not too steep and not too big so I'm relaxed about dropping down a spur or a creek. I select a spur and start down. It runs out all too soon with a steep clamber into a creek which promptly pops over a water fall or two. The creek gets gradually bigger as I follow it down or sidle around waterfalls. It is far slower going than anticipated and there are some slightly hairy climbs hanging off trees on precipitous, loose, greasy slopes. Each foot and hand hold well tested before moving to the next.

The creek intersects a larger creek and I confirm my location. The stream is now quite large and periodically there are huge logs jammed together and rotting into the creek bed. They're slick as ice. More unmarked side streams join and the odd pool starts to climb up the thighs. Heavy rain comes down between the steep valley sides.

There are a few points where there is room to leave the stream and potter along old terraces but more and more time is spent in the water. The going is even slower now as the odd gorgish section has to be circumnavigated and more care is required during the multiple crossings.  The deeper sections are now mid-drift deep and the light is starting to fade although it's only just after 4pm. I haven't seen any signs of humans passing this way.

Fumbling and stumbling down the stream in the gloom I'm putting off getting the head torch out and negating all peripheral vision. Just as I'm about to give in to the inevitable, a mass of white water ahead marks the junction with the Makakihi River. One last very careful crossing of my stream and I take a break to crack out the light and check the map. It shows there's a stretch of about 300m river travel to the next creek where I can join a forestry track for 500m to the car.

It rapidly becomes pitch black and it's quite a different river from this morning. I estimate almost a metre up and with steep scrubby sides that provide precious little opportunity to get out of the water. It's very slow going waist deep in the river edge keeping out of the main current and hanging off trees. Occasional sorties along the bank are possible but in the torch light it's impossible to tell the height of a face and I figure that trying to get to a possibly non existent terrace is not worth the risk of a fall.

After a false alarm I reach the marked side stream and thrash along the bank a short distance before finding the edge of the road.  What a relief - wide and flat, I can shamble along at a slow trot in the rain back to the car. At 5pm it's as dark as midnight.

Once stopped the cold rapidly takes hold, I hastily chuck sopping kit into the car and hit the road. The legs have taken a fair old battering from the leatherwood and rocky stream bed and I am a long way from being thawed-out by the time I get to Carterton for the now habitual blagging of a shower, good food and bed.

Post Script

I certainly got my money's worth for the day and learnt a few lessons. In retrospect (and pretty obviously) I could have spent a few minutes longer below Tawhero to work my around to the big spur leading down to 650. This would have been quicker and easier than the creek.

The crash site is worth a visit if you're interested in that sort of thing. It's hardly a navigational challenge now though. And while you're there it would be pointless not to visit the trig which has some interesting views. The nav practice around the rest of the route is worthwhile and there would be some good views on a clear day. Be prepared for a bit of bush bashing - it took a fair while for my bruises to fade.

Probably the most sensible trip in the area would be to head through to Roaring Stag via 713 rather than completing the circuit. Another option would be to come up the Ruamahanga and take the spur opposite Cleft Creek to get to Tawhero then connect with one of the old 4WD tracks to get down to SH2 and a short walk back to your car.



Links:

Article on the crash
Geocache at site 
Tramping club trip (page 6) 
Another tramping club trip

Waiohine Steeplechase

This is the report from the inaugural Midwinter Waiohine Solo Steeplechase. The event has a simple set of rules the first two of which may be gleaned from the title: midwinter being around mid-July and solo being without any external assistance of any kind. Participants must carry a two-day pack including shelter, sleeping bag and warm clothes (safety first), direction of travel is discretionary. There are a few other rules and more can be made up as you go along. It doesn't promise to be a spectator sport and I don't expect it to catch-on to any degree.

What: Day trip with provision for likely overnight
Where: Loop from Holdsworth, to Powell Hut via River Ridge track, down High Ridge, down left bank of Waiohine to Sayer Hut, cross stream and ascend Waiohine, then follow ridge north to drop onto Totara Creek Track and exit to Holdsworth Road via Gentle Annie Track
Why: Practice navigation and knock off a number of routes

When: Midwinter

Map: Link

The plan started with the intention to climb Waiohine, the highest point on the ridge between the Waiohine River and the Wairarapa. But how best to get there? For various reasons the ridge north was chosen, giving Holdsworth rather than Walls Whare as the base. Not being big on there-and-back trips, various loop options started to form but it just had to be High Ridge. Joining them up was a simple matter of avoiding the usual teeming hoards on Totara Flats by using a route described by the TTC along the Waiohine left bank.

An early start from home has me leaving the car in the frosty pre-dawn at Holdsworth Road end. At 7am, it is not yet light but after a pit stop there's enough not to have to crack out the head torch.

The turn-off to the River Ridge Track is easy to find. On the way up I'm reminded of a trip up here late one evening but now wonder what I was worried about. It's a relaxed grade and easy to follow, with sunrise catching me part way up. On the way I discover a wee bit of gravel rattling around in the toe of one boot - must remember to whip it out at the next stop.  At 8.10 I reach the cluster of signs at Pig Flat.

Nondescript forest catching the first of the sun 

No excuses to get lost

From Pig Flat looking up at Powell Hut

It's a steady climb on a good track to an empty Powell Hut, arriving at 8.50. On the way, the periodic view spots confirm that it is a glorious day. I also get my first glimpses of High Ridge. There are steep slips near the head of the ridge but most of it undulates along under a thick bush canopy after a short stints along the open tops.

Last time I came up here in the dark the wind was whistling through the trees and there was ice on the ground. This time the puddles are iced over and the gravel on the track frozen solid, but no wind.

First view

Great Walk standard track

First sight of High Ridge

Waiohine valley, my ridge on the left

Back down towards Holdsworth road end

High Ridge

Powell Hut

From Powell Hut

I take a brief stop to admire the view, top up water (no sense carrying much up the hill after all), fill in the log book and forget to take the piece of gravel out of my boot. It is tempting to pop up to the peak but I resign myself to saving the time, arriving at my turnoff a bit before 9.10.

Finding the right spot to leave a marked track can sometimes be tricky, requiring map reading skills and a weather eye out for the subtle signs that indicate the best route. It's not so hard at the High Ridge junction.

Finding the junction to High Ridge

Holdsworth second lump to left, Jumbo one of the lumps towards the right

High Ridge
Southern Crossing on the horizon

Aokaparangi on Main Range (I think)

The travel down over tussock and herbs is easy, with a ground trail that comes and goes. I am relishing cracking the ice in the puddles but even more so the superb views across the Mid Waiohine Valley to the Main Range, behind to Holdsworth, Hector and the Southern Crossing on the horizon, and various familiar spurs dropping into hidden valley depths. The sound of the river 900m below somehow serves to accentuate the sense of space, distance and the sheer volume of empty air between the ridges.

I pay particular attention to the Waiohine Ridge which, with a bit of luck, I will be returning along this afternoon. The winter sun is throwing the spurs into relief and I think I can spot my target.

Around about now my watch starts informing me that the battery is running down. I tend to rely on the altimeter to confirm location so this may get challenging if it stops working - particularly later in the day with fading light.

The ground trail is a little hard to follow when it approaches the bush line, but for a change I manage to find the right spot and duck into the green, mossy shade at 9.30. There's a reasonable track that follows along the ridge and off to the east side. Mr Orange Tape Man has been through with a somewhat liberal hand.

Bush entry point - easy to miss

Typical goblin forest

Periodically there are little windows in the bush showing a slice of the Main Range. At one of these I am captivated by a flock of Rifleman who ignore me completely, carrying on with their high pitched twittering - like very small bits of polystyrene on tiny, tiny glass bottles. A bush robin cocks a beady eye - it's tempting to say 'cheekily' but it's pretty clear that it is merely sizing up the potential calorific benefits of interacting with big-noisy-two-legs.

Even under the canopy this is one of those great Tararua days. The full enjoyment is gained by paying in the coin of numerous windy, clagged-in struggles along exposed ridges.

Aokaparangi

Mt Crawford perhaps?

During recent trips I've noticed that when it's cold my hands swell up quite noticeably, particularly the left one. Today it looks like Beryl Cook drew them. I'm going to assume that it is nothing serious and possibly something to do with tight pack and watch straps.

Where the ridge widens the ground trail tends to dissipate but the compass is only required a couple of times. I get lazy and switch from navigation mode to tramping mode - this is where you follow the track and the markers and pay little attention to map and compass - faster but when you lose the track you have much less awareness of where you are. My left toes have now become intimately familiar with all the sharp facets of the piece of gravel - but no damage done, so will fish it out at the next stop.

Some of the old markers still remain

For some reason Mr Orange Tape Man becomes all parsimonious at some of the more tricky bits approaching Flaxy Knob. A bit of time is wasted trying to find the trail before confirming with the compass.

I may not have been paying attention but I didn't see any flax at Flaxy Knob. Maybe it's tramping irony? The route off the Knob is well marked but there are some notable gaps on the way down.

Old but still serviceable

I start the descent at 11.03 with some guidance notes from the TTC website in hand - I'd have to say that they were hard to match to the terrain, although their estimate of 90 min top to bottom was bang on. The trick is to get on the correct spur and not one that veers right towards the tricky steep slopes above the Waiohine. All up I can't claim navigation skills for following the right spur - merely the ability to find the next marker.

I pause for a bite part way down and neglect to remove the gravel again.

Belt, braces and bailing twine

Gate A?

The track drops down to a cairn by the Totara Creek Track arriving at 12.36. The swing bridge to Totara Flats Hut is one minute away but I'm heading across Totara Creek and there's nothing for it but to get wet feet.

Cairn you see it?  (dedicated to Scott)

Totara Creek to Totara Flats Hut (Waiohine River in between)

On the other side there are various flats and terraces to follow. The river is up a bit so there is no space along the edge, and I end up in a bit of a messy, scrubby scramble until there is enough river edge to boulder hop across the bottom of the slip. On the other side I fossick along for a bit then duck into the bush edge and follow along on the terrace. Eventually there is quite a well marked and formed track to follow which leads directly to Sayer Hut arriving 1.20 for lunch.

Sayer Hut

The day has clouded over and cooled down, giving a feeling of limited daylight hours. I take a 20 minute break to eat, complete the log book, top up water (enough for a night out), stack the tools under cover that some idiot had left outside, and once again forget about the piece of gravel.

The next bit is a bit of a punt. The spur across Sayer Stream isn't exactly the obvious route up to Waiohine, but it's closest. There's plenty of game trails for a start, and a bit of scrambling around on the lower slopes, but eventually it's not too bad going. At 640m I come across a well marked route with stoat traps, which takes me almost to the top.

At 3.07 it's been about 90 minutes climbing to a wee clearing with a post and good views north and west.

Waiohine.

This is what we came here for - top of Waiohine

My ridge on right - spur with proper track to Sayer in the midground 

The ridge has a reasonable ground trail but is not fast travel. At 3.34 I'm at spot height 810 and take a compass bearing to bear left and gain the Sayer Track 14 minutes later. And this is where I waste a fair bit of time.

I truck along keeping an eye out for indications of where the route leaves the track - miss them completely and drop too far. Retracing my steps I work out where I need to go and strike off through the bush to get up to the desired ridge. On top is a strong ground trail and lots of markers - goodness knows how I missed it. There's a bit of teeth grinding as I think of the daylight minutes wasted.

To mouth of Totara Creek

The ground trail remains pretty strong until just after 768 (at 4.27) the top of a spur to the mouth of Totara Creek is well marked and obviously well traveled. A few minutes later a rocky tor gives some great views although difficult to capture in the last of the sun. 20 minutes later the next break gives only glimpses of a few rays filtering between the north western peaks.

The clock is definitely ticking now. In the gathering gloom it is getting harder to spot the ground trail. I don't want to crack out the torch though, as that will pretty much destroy what little sense of the shape of the terrain remains in the waning light. Someone has twisted wrappers around branches in places and I spot the last of these at a point where I think the path should drop to the left - it suggests this it that point so I take a bearing to the Totara Creek track and head off down the slope. A deer moves off to avoid me but remains unseen.

I've completely lost the ground trail now and work my way down, fortunately through pretty open woodland. A curious shape on a tree turns out to be a track marker and a couple of steps later the Totara Creek Track. Solid and wide - a bit of a relief.

Arrival at Totara Creek Track - getting a bit dim

At 5.35 the moon is failing to provide much usable light, but the track is so good as it follows a broad, flat spur top that I keep pottering along in the gloaming, practicing using peripheral vision to pick out where the track runs. Eventually though (ie 15 minutes) it starts dropping and I give in and put on my brand new Petzl Tikka head torch (does the trick fine - not as many functions as my Black Diamond but feels a bit more robust).

The thing about torch light travel is that your world closes in to a small area of light and you lose awareness of what's outside it. That's just fine for the 300m climb up to the Gentle Annie Track.

This part of track is old and familiar. I do think it should be renamed Totara Track Creek though. I don't know what wizardry the early track builders practiced but they managed to follow a spur with a creek running down it.  A fair proportion of the climb is splashing up a mossy, clay, rooty watercourse.

Finally, at 6.30 I reach the top just as a chap comes waltzing up the Gentle Annie on his way to Powell Hut - the first and last person I see for the day. He's not about to pause for a chat and I'm pretty keen to get on my way down.

Translation: 1 hour thirty = fifty minutes

This part of the track is of 'Great Walk' standard i.e. disability access bar the hand rails. I can switch off and potter down, too weary to trot.

Part of my brain suggests going up to Rocky Lookout, the other part suggests that that idiot part should shut up, but loses out. It's four days from the full moon so there's enough light to make out the surrounding landscape, but not what you would call enchanting.

A few sections of the downward trail are at just the right pitch to rustle up a desultory trot, but on the flats all I can muster is a stiff potter. At last at 7.23, 12 hours and 20 minutes after setting out, I'm at the car park. Departure is delayed a little though, as the car has iced up already.

The Rimutaka traffic is uncharacteristically sparse and it's a quick trip home to remove boots, find that damned piece of rock and fall into a hot bath.