Scrub - a little fed up with it after recent excursions. Although the poked eye from last week got better quicker than expected, I was pretty much a write off the day after and am still removing prickles.
Accordingly, I cast about for a trip that, in scrub terms at least, is likely to be of a more benign disposition.
Three spots on a spur near the head of the Otaki Gorges have been on mind and promise an interesting route onto the Main Range tops. I've also discovered another spot in the vicinity that had escaped previous attention.
So, in at Otaki Forks, follow Te Araroa trail to the Otaki River, down the gorge a short way, rocket up a spur to the tops, potter along to Nichol's Hut, potter out along the track the next day with a diversion to a spot off the side of Mt Crawford on the way.
What: Spot height navigation weekend trip
Where: Around head of Otaki Gorges and Mt Crawford
When: 27-28 October 2018
Who: Solo
Map:
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| Red this weekend, purple various previous trips - haven't bothered marking the Plateau track |
The forecast is marginal. Gail force wind and rain Saturday arvo, clearing overnight. The trip plan allows for this with the most significant risk being wind on the tops on Saturday. Contingency plans involve ignominious retreat or bailing down various spurs.
At 7.20am it's overcast but little wind and no sign of the rain ... yet. The only notable(?) event on the way in is a dog, his hunter and his hunter's missus - in that order.
I take the sidle track to avoid the slip - this always puts me slightly out of sorts. There is a mostly perfectly good (and quicker) track along the old tramway and up a creek but the slip makes it dicey.
At 9.10 I'm at the other end of the sidle and the start of the plateau. With recent rain the track is a little boggy. There's a few trees down on the descent from the plateau.
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| Plateau end of the sidle |
40 minutes later I reach the point to leave the track and head down Arapito Stream to the Otaki River. There's a bit of track on the true right (last time I came up here I didn't notice and whistled straight up the stream bed which can have a bit of windfall blockage).
About five minutes later I'm at the river which is looking clear with average flow. The rain is holding off for now and I'm comfortable to head down river.
Progress is through a mix of sidling, wading and crossing the river, and towards the end - pottering along an old terrace. At one point I'm edging around a rock when one hand hold collapses - there's that momentary helpless feeling as I peel inevitably off backwards. Fortunately the water is only 3 feet below and not deep.
I continue down river counting the side streams and am quite confident when I arrive at the bottom of the target spur.
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| Random side stream |
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| Stream beside my spur |
11.15 and time to top up water have a bite and gird the mental loins; the pipe at the top of Mt Crawford is somewhere 1200m above.
It's beautiful forest in these parts - mostly tall and mature with good going underneath. I see a couple of reasons for the open understory on the way up (deer) and hear the bleating of a flock of another reason filtering across the valley (goats).
The expected weather change starts coming in on the way up. The temperature drops, clouds filter through the trees and finally the rain starts. By the time I get to the bushline (3pm) I'm rugged up and there's sod all visibility.
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| Starting to cool down |
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| Getting atmospheric |
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| Cue the rain |
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| And the bushline |
Aside from the usual windfall it's good travel up the spur - there is often a trail to follow but, typical of animal trails it dissipates as soon as the slope widens. I don't see any of the usual old markers or bits of tape until one solitary piece of pink ribbon on the ground at the bushline. There's a bit of leatherwood to be navigated in the upper reaches of the forest but the spur is relatively free of unpleasant scrambling through scrub and, whether animal or human there is a bit of a trail up through the tussock.
Above the bushline my world expands to the extent of the inside of the surrounding cloud. It's blustery, wet and cold. This is a decision point - the forecast is for gale-force winds and I have to decide whether to continue over the top of Mt Crawford to Nichol Hut, bail backwards, or over Shoulder Knob for Waitewaewae Hut on the valley floor.
It's blustery, cold and wet but I'm happy to continue. However, although it's only midafternoon I'm not going to push my luck and pick up that spot height off the side of Crawford.
It feels like a long way up to the peak and over all the knobs and bumps afterwards. It's just borderline with a bushshirt under a coat but I keep going for the hut arriving at 4.10pm.
The hut is empty and cold with no firewood. That's fine by me - I'm not about to collect wood in these conditions so I'm not about to burn any.
I spend the rest of the afternoon in my sleeping bag reading the log book and trying to warm up.
This is one of the Te Araroa huts in the Tararuas so it gets a lot of traffic. I count the entries and discover the following for the period between 24 September 2016 and today (28 October 2018): (including myself and counting all visits not just overnighters)
Total visits: 715
Total doing TA: 565 (79%) vs not TA or unknown 150 (21%)
Total kiwi: 202 (28%) non kiwi 511 (71%)
Non kiwi doing TA: 492 (69% of all visits, 96% of non kiwi visits)
Kiwi doing TA: 73 (36% of kiwis, 10% of total visitors)
Southward bound TA: 504 (89% of TA walkers)
Northward bound TA: 47 (8% of TA walkers)
Kiwis not doing TA: 126 (62% of kiwis, 18% of all visits)
Non kiwis not TA: 19 (4% of non kiwis, 3% of all visits)
(Numbers don't all add to 100% as some log entries were missing details)
I just finish before it gets too dark for unassisted reading. The dehy for dinner is a great hotwater bottle - as it finishes soaking it warms my feet.
The rain is heavy during the night but I'm comfortable and its quiet by morning when the alarm goes (5.30am).
I cook breakfast with the headlight on but it's light by the time I step outside as it takes over an hour to sort things out; unblock the sink drain, tidy the hut and climb into cold, wet clothes.
The clag shrouds the hillside but there's little wind and birds are getting up and about. At 6.45am I squelch up the track/stream.
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| Morning - hut side |
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| Morning - dunny side |
At the ridge the clag briefly breaks to give a glimpse of blue sky, the moon and a weak sun. They soon disappear again.
The plan is simple - climb to 1400m look for where the track takes a bend left for the final haul up to the top and follow a bearing towards 1196 down a messy face. Messy in that for a start there is little to pick where the spur is going to form.
I follow the compass down peering through the clag trying to pick which wrinkle in the landscape to follow. It's mostly pretty good but there is a healthy band of scrub. I make hard work of this on the way down but find some really useful trails to follow back up.
It feels somewhat miraculous as the slope resolves out of the clag into the (relatively) flat and straight top of the spur to 1196. A fluorescent marker catches my eye and turns out to be a SAR flouro jacket with orange cable tape - I must be somewhere! An inquisitive goat has had a nibble at the hem.
8.15am - Pt 1196 is at the end of a flat section of the spur. It's a pleasant place - there's a tussocky clearing surrounded by bush. It's also a deer superhighway with hoof prints everywhere and a large watering hole. I potter around for a bit before turning back for the climb.
By dint of casting about and following the animal trails I find the easiest route through the leatherwood and onto the open (but steep) going above. A little before 9.10 I'm at the top.
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| Mt Crawford |
It's still claggy and cold but, on average, downhill from here on.
I tick off the Junction to turn off the Main Range, Shoulder Knob before the main descent, and the bushline where I shed balaclava and gloves. It's lovely goblin forest here. I try to make good time down without risking my neck with my slippery boots.
The first glimpse of the river confirms it is up. Across the bridge and 10 minutes to Waitewaewae Hut arriving at 11.05. Half an hour is time for a bit of lunch and write in the log book. I casually note a dog leash hanging by the door on my way out.
Normally the river route is quicker from here but it's at least a couple of feet up and discoloured so I resign myself to following the track.
It feels like a long slow climb up Arapito Stream to the plateau and a soggy trudge to the start of the sidle arriving at 12.50. Munching on fruit bread and Camembert I note that the holes in my left boot have got organised and joined forces - it's surprising they're still staying on my feet - must get some new ones.
I'm just about at the end of the sidle when two pig dogs bounce around the corner - one starts growling and I wonder what's going to happen next - you hear some unpleasant stories. I think I manage to say 'ah' when they are called off. A couple of hunters are at the bottom of the track.
It turns out that the dogs belong to bloke one. He's in looking for a dog he misplaced a week or two back and inquires if I have seen a dog (no), signs of a dog (no), the note that he left at Waitewaewae Hut (ah - that explains the leash!). I can't give them anything except for good reason not to bother walking all the way into the hut. In the course of conversation it turns out he has also lost a dog around Penn Creek somewhere. At some point this might be classified as careless.
I trot off down the track leaving them to it - five minutes down the track one of his dogs dashes past and grins up at me. It takes a few minutes to chase it back up the track but eventually it disappears around a corner with ears back and tail down. I continue on my way periodically checking over my shoulder to make sure it has gone.
15 minutes later I hear a noise and there it is again, trotting along at my heels. Ah well, I figure I can tie it up at the road end but I'm not backtracking to them now.
Coming down the hill to the Otaki swing bridge I come across a jogger and dog coming in - I find myself trying to control someone else's dog from getting involved with another someone else's dog. I explain the situation and she agrees to let the hunters know what's happened when she sees them.
The dog keeps trotting ahead including over the swing bridge but on the way up the other side I hear whistling and shouting from way behind at the top of the bank opposite. This time I manage to chase the dog off far enough that he hears his master's voice and disappears for good. I continue to the car alone.
At 2.45 on a mild and dry afternoon I'm back at the carpark watching the WTMC organise itself into two vans after a rafting trip. I leave them to it and head for home.
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