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.

A bit off track in the Orongorongos

The Remutaka range contains the populous highways and many huts of the mid Orongorongo valley, the bleak, eroded escarpments of the south coast, less traveled rugged ridges and deep cut streams running up to the rail trail and Remutaka hill in the north, and somewhere between, the rich protected forests of the water treatment catchment. Apart from the eastern parts towards Wainuiomata, there are relatively few marked tracks and plenty of scope to go off piste. 

What:    Solo navigation trip

Where:  Orongorongos

Why:     Practice navigation, explore some new ridges and travel the Whakanui track 

Map:     Link

The trip I have in mind this weekend is to skirt the edge of the water treatment catchment in the north, head down the ridge and over Orongorongo then drop and climb onto the Remutaka range to navigate to the Papatahi track then exit via the Whakanui track. Somewhat ambitious but there are a few plan Bs on the intention sheet that can be called up.

I had in mind that there was a track up through the bush from the back of Nae Nae somewhere to the 4WD track along the Eastern Hutt hills. The topo map shows one from Wilkie Crescent, so at 7.30am I leave the warm car and head between a couple of houses to what turns out to be a firebreak. 

The break climbs steadily and the valley floor opens behind with the sound of the suburbs waking up and a goods train drifting up. It turns out to be a firebreak that Eleanor and I explored on MTBs one summer in the late '80s when we checked out most of them along these hills. This break is particularly familiar, I spot the corner where I stopped and didn't get out of the toe clips fast enough; Eleanor only laughed a little bit as she fished me out of the blackberry patch. A bit further up is the steep section that, to her credit, Eleanor attempted to come down but ended up over the handlebars and a little dented.

About half an hour later on the ridge a left turn sees me following the solid 4WD track. A short distance along is the top of the track I had meant to take: a walking track from Rata Street.

Kodak photo stop - top of Rata Street track looking towards harbour
The locals clearly can't abide unmolested information boards 

It's cloudy and soon a cold drizzle sets in, but not quite enough to stop and get the coat out.  The track plods up to eventually give a view down a damp Stokes Valley before joining the ECNZ road.

I'll skip a few details here, suffice to say that there is a very long 2m high perimeter fence along a fair chunk of the catchment. It has possum traps at regular intervals and is well maintained with a good quality 4WD track along it. There is also a lot of pine, scrub, farmland and private property.

A magnificent fence

On one side is the fence and the mist shrouded valleys of prehistoric forest in the water catchment. On the other side, there is the orderly green of life style blocks and pines in Whitemans Valley. Land cover outside the fence is mainly farmland but there is also pine, scrub and private property.

 

At a bit before 10am the top of Devine is anything but. The track potters up and into a patch of bush and it's possible that it just misses the top but there didn't seem to be much of any note. A bit further along at 631 the fence is still there and it's over a kilometer further before it runs out at an unnamed knob above the watershed between the headwaters of the Orongorongo and Narrow Neck Stream.

Last views of Whitemans Valley

Mt somewhat Devine

I have noble intentions of avoiding the water catchment, so take a compass bearing and duck into the bush to follow the watershed down and up to the next ridge. Provided I stay on the outside of the watershed line I'm not in the catchment.  The Regional Council is quite justifiably proud of the catchment. It has been managed to control pests and is probably the best example of bush as it once was in the Wellington region. It is also part of a complicated water supply network encompassing bores in the Hutt, the catchments of the Wainui, Orongorongo and Hutt rivers and a complex distribution network. They periodically do tours into the catchment and it's worth signing up for one.

There's a bit of a ground trail but I quickly lose it and just follow a bearing. The terrain to the north drops steeply in to Narrow Neck Stream - keep out of there and my line is fine.  It's not too steep and before too long I'm climbing the other side with a slight trace of a trail and occasional bits of pink tape.

Spot height 730 is where I join the ridge line in dense forest. It's about 11.45 and there's a bit of ground trail which is relatively easy to follow when the ridge is narrow but when it broadens it's pretty easy to wander off line and there's little in the way of visual cues to find it again.

A southeaster is blowing damp cold air across the ridge and there's nothing to see but mist through the occasional break in the trees. At one point I drift off the ridge in the wrong place and have to extricate myself from a gully, wasting a fair bit of time. It is amazing how quickly you lose your sense of direction so a fair chunk of the time I wander along with compass in hand.

It's damp and mossy and through out the trip there is a lot of tree fall which frequently makes any ground trail hard to follow. It could be wishful thinking but it certainly feels like the bush is less browsed than in the Tararuas. There are a lot of indications of pest control, including V notch planks nailed diagonally on to trees in a number of places  - I assume to peel possums or some such thing.

What with wandering off track and stopping to add layers it is almost 2pm when I get to Orongorongo (the high point). Basically, it's claggy with nothing to see. It's low mossy bush and scrub with no view. At a few points it's easiest to crawl to move about. If there was a view it would be westward across the Orongorongo headwaters to a low ridge then a drop into the Wainuiomata East Branch, a row of ridges then Wainuiomata, Lower Hutt and the Harbour.  Maybe the windmills above Wellington and the Kaikouras beyond to the left. Or today ... mist.

It's still the edge of the water catchment at this point. I head on towards spot height 820 and then 805 where in theory I should drop off to the east over 589 to follow the catchment edge.  However the ground trail is stronger ahead and given the cold and short daylight hours now available it's safer to follow the ridge. Wairongomai Saddle will have to keep for another day.

The trail comes and goes but I manage to keep on the fading ridge, dropping eventually through untracked undergrowth to exit right on the junction between the Orongorongo River and the unnamed stream from Wairongomai Saddle.

Looking up Orongorongo River, the unnamed stream on the right.

It's 5pm, getting dim and I'm pretty tired. Heading up onto the Remutaka Range is out of the question now so I find a flat spot well away from the stream (it's part of the Wellington water supply after all) and set up my bivvy tent. The amount of fallen branches in this forest means a bit of care in choosing a site clear of aerial hazards.

Settling in for a comfy night ...

It gets dark quickly and I have the head torch on to finish setting up for the night. The intermittent drizzle has cleared and the southeaster is absent from the bottom of this wee valley. The light fades to dark and the world shrinks to the cramped quarters of the tent and a dehy meal for two. My feet slowly thaw and not long after 6.30 there's nothing for it but to turn in with the sound of the stream and the river drowning out the sounds of the bush. I had thought I might be lucky enough to hear a kiwi, but if there were any about they didn't wake me up.

The tent doesn't seem to get too damp from condensation and I have a gloriously long sleep. Just before 7 it's still dark at the bottom of the valley amidst tall trees but by the time I've broken camp it's light enough to head off about 7.40.

The original plan to head up onto the Remutaka Range and bash along the ridge to the Papatahi track and a steep descent to the Orongorongo River is not the smartest move as I'm pretty tired from yesterday and a day on the tops in weather like yesterday wouldn't be the best. I suspect the Council would prefer I didn't wade down the river (although the standard of treatment at the water plant is very high and would easily cope with my boots being rinsed in the river).

I decide to activate one of my contingency plans - to exit up a spur to the water supply access road. I choose a likely spur on the map and head off - to my surprise the spur has markers; not much ground trail to start with and a lot of tree fall on the lower slopes but the markers are frequent enough to keep on line and travel becomes easier further up.

The bush is varied and beautiful with some superb giants. Despite tired legs after yesterday it's only about 45 minutes up to the road which is wide and solidly built.

Water works access road - middle of nowhere

To cut a long story short, I navigate a route out of the catchment which turns out to be well used by pest control operators with an impressive number of rat and stoat traps.

It could be imagination but it seems that there is a lot more dead fall and undergrowth than in the Tararuas which makes the going a bit treacherous in places. The southerly starts in again so I'm happy enough to get to the high point on the ridge a bit before 1030, a nondescript knob amidst the trees and the point at which the track descends before climbing again but into somewhat improved weather, even vouchsafing views towards Wellington.

On the ridge

The high point - is tha' it then?

Wainuiomata and beyond

The cloud to the east has lifted and there's a few clearings so some good views across Wainuiomata and out to Wellington are revealed.

Same view, a little further along

There is a track I expect to meet when I leave the catchment area, and indeed I come across a wide, well benched track but not where it is marked on the map. However, it means I can relax and lope along with out worrying about navigation, footing or being poked in the face. The track is clearly very old and doesn't look very well used so I wonder what it was built for, in between contemplating the second mistake I'd found on topo maps recently.

With half an eye on the altimeter I gradually realise that the track has not climbed where it should have. Odd. The compass confirms I am on a slightly different heading than expected. Odder. Still it's going down into the right valley so let's see where it goes.

There are plenty of traps along the way with eggs held in a cradle of nails - clearly irresistible to stoats. The track sidles then drops and finally zigzags down a narrow ridge. I'm hoping I wont be popping out in the water catchment. Just before the bottom there is a sign identifying this as the "Pack Track" then the track ends abruptly at a non-descript gravel patch at the end of a side road.

Bottom of the Pack Track - not much to see.

To cut a long story short - I have come out in the catchment and now have the potentially embarrassing task of exiting past various gates, signs and buildings. I don't meet anyone so no lengthy explanations are required.

The final thing is to organise a pick up. There's no cell cover until the Coast Road where I discover that home command is asleep on the job so it ends up being a long 11km of road walking.

So ... ticks in the box for Orongorongo, circumnavigation of a large part of the catchment, navigation practice, another night in the Macpac bush cocoon ... not so successful in terms of avoiding the catchment itself, knocking off the Remutaka ridge to Papatahi, the Whakanui track and hearing kiwi.

Plenty of unfinished business for another trip or two.