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.