However, in a master piece of timing Dad decides he's had enough of the depredations of age, its attendant conditions and unpleasant interventions. He quietly slips away on Christmas day.
I'm going to indulge myself a little, so skip a few paras if you just want to read about the first, truncated trip to Lake Sylvester and Iron Hill.
You can pretty much blame him for my choice of weekend activity. Early family holidays were spent by the Waiohine River or at the back of a farm in Golden Bay. As the tribe got older we'd head off for what are now known as the great walks - some of my earliest memories are of the Abel Tasman; carrying a token sugar sack jury rigged into a pack for a can of beans. And tied to a length of flex so they could haul me up the steep bits. We met the park ranger - he was casually walking the whole route in a single day - what a legend.
Later, there was flooding at Nelson Lakes, daunting river crossings in Te Uruwera, and the ever so posh Milford track. He was probably about the age I am now when the family started to get too old for it all.
He made his own pack - canvas with a wooden frame and hellishly uncomfortable. It contained everything including a rope and an axe for splitting the kindling. It took me years to realise that equipment could be new, light and comfortable.
One story he would tell was of taking a bunch of Porirua Boys Brigade Boys into the Tararuas - they were somewhere around Totara Flats when: "A bunch of blokes appeared out of the bush, crossed the track and disappeared again - they were just going cross country!" I was pretty impressed.
Even with rapidly fading sight he'd still make the effort to read these reports and would often have a comment or question. From a background of tramping in groups and sticking to the track he probably thought these exploits were somewhat harebrained.
So ... with the public facing formalities duly completed, I decide I will go ahead with my intended trips subject to necessary amendments. People suggest it will be a good way to take time to think things through. Maybe so.
The three trips in mind are:
- A couple of nights at Sylvester Hut in the Cobb (this one).
- The main event - along the Douglas and Lockett Ranges exiting via the Anatoki River.
- Something in the lower North Island.
The plan
The logistics were complex before the spanner in the works. Four of us were going to take in the Cobb Valley, the tablelands between the Cobb and Mt Arthur, a jaunt along part of the Peel and the Lockett Ranges for the more adventurous, and a couple of nights at Sylvester Hut to see in the New Year.In the end, Mike, Angela, Vanessa and Jeanine had a fine time in splendid weather doing most of the above, with me finally joining them at Sylvester Hut. Jeanine was a late addition with the closure of the Paparoa Track. They took my trip notes as a guide, but quite sensibly made it up as they went along.
The transport logistics are gloriously complex. Vanessa flies into Wellington on Christmas Day. Boxing Day Angela takes her car down on the ferry and meets Jeanine - they leave Jeanine's car at Iona and Col's (another story), and take Iona's and Angela's cars to Nelson. Here they leave Iona's car, pick up Mike and Vanessa from the airport and drive out to the Cobb. So far no hitches or hitching.
On the 30th I fly in to Nelson, pick up Iona's car and drive to the Cobb to join them at Sylvester Hut. That gets us to the start of the trip but for completeness I'll note that the reverse logistics were every bit as complicated and involved buses and hitching as well as car swaps.
En route I get a text from Mike requesting some essentials (loo paper and chocolate), and discover that Air New Zealand has burrowed into my pack and removed a cigarette lighter I had forgotten was in my cooking kit.
What: Cruisey 'tramp'
Where: Sylvester Hut, Kahurangi
When: 30 December 2019 - 1 January 2020
Who: Mike, Angela, Vanessa, Janine and me
Map
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| The 'off track' bits |
The Takaka Road still hasn't been repaired and I have a bit of a wait in the hot afternoon. Hopes of a free road from the turn-off to the Cobb are short lived as the annual festival is in full swing involving paddocks full of Torpedo 7 tents and possibly zoned out individuals wandering around the road or disporting in the river.
After this the road is quieter and I'm soon parked at a crowded road end. A bit after 3pm I'm skirting the lake on a 4WD track under a hot sun. The track enters beech forest and starts zigzagging up the valley side. It's pleasant in the shade, but for reasons that will become obvious my pack is much heavier than two days warrant. and I have a few rests on the way up.
The road rounds onto the top and breaks into more sparse and shorter bush and clearings. Away to my left I can see Sylvester Hut a ways before I reach it. I don't note the time but think it takes about an hour and a half up. The other four are already here and chilling in the afternoon sun - there are beds for all but Mike and Angela have pitched a tent.
I dispense some of the supplies I have lugged up (loo paper for V&J, chocolate, a rigger of beer and of cider, and a cranberry juice. After four or five days on iron rations the troops greet these with some enthusiasm. The afternoon drifts by catching up on their adventures to date (Angela can tell that story but it sounds like a relaxing week kicking around the valley and tablelands with the odd dip in a tarn). There was apparently a moment when Vanessa found herself somewhat out of her comfort zone on a steep section, but she gritted her teeth and got through it.
The hut is busy including day trippers, a few more for the hut, and some that pass through opting to camp near the hut or up by the lake. Periodically I dig out another treat from my dwindling supply of surprises.
Hoss is the standout hut companion. He says he is from Persia but has lived in Nelson for a good while. He's had some fantastic trips up and down the southern alps and is embarking on another series, based on completing a traverse deviating no more than a set number of kilometers from a line between Farewell Spit and somewhere near Bluff. A Nelson resident, he runs a rug shop - which is very handy since Mike and Angela have just bought a Nelson house that has acres of polished floors.
The evening sun sets with a golden hue courtesy of Australia.
The next morning I withdraw a further surprise from my pack for Angela - her favourite Lewis Road Creamery (not so) esspresso. We say good bye to Hoss and eventually grab some supplies and follow the track over to Lake Sylvester. The plan is for an easy day exploring the lakes.
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| Lake Sylvester |
There's a good track to the lack and across the outlet (piped). A clear foot trail runs between Lake Sylvester and Little Sylvester Lake, then climbs gently towards Iron Lake. The trail fades but there are occasional cairns and it's not too hard to follow your nose upwards. Coming down in clag you would just want to make sure you didn't drift left towards the cliffs above Lake Sylvester.
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| Looking back over Lake Sylvester |
At Iron Lake no-one is keen for a swim - the day is hot but the air is cool and the Lake is cooler still. I'm keen to head up Iron Hill (1695). Its looming rocky face looks somewhat forbidding but I reckon it won't be too bad. Angela and Mike are also keen while Vanessa opts to follow the route back to the hut and Jeanine wants to try a route above the NW side of the lake.
There's a couple just emerging from their tent in the one flat spot by the lake outlet as we wander past and contemplate the route up.
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| Angela takes on the east face. |
The route turns out to be reasonably well cairned and, although steepish in places, the rock is incredibly grippy. The top section is on looser footing, but you can keep to the veg on the sides and there's no real fall risk.
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| Mike taking in Lakes: Iron (closest), Sylvester (left) and Little Sylvester (right) |
At the top there's a rock stack to the left which, although not the highest point, is the most dramatic. We declare it to be the top and scramble into the notch and up it's flank. It has taken less than an hour climbing at a relaxed pace.
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| '"Come-on up Angela, the views are fantastic" |
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| "I'm not entirely sure this is a good idea ..." |
Below we can see the lakes we explored laid out and, beyond, the cloud capped northern end of the Arthur Range. To the south east is Mt Arthur and the tablelands, with the upper Cobb Valley running north west between us and the Peel Range. South west are the ranges of hills and mountains in the wild heart of the Kahurangi Ranges. It's beautiful, and just a little bit daunting.
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| Cobb Valley |
Most of the top of Iron Hill is rounded with shattered rock or low herbs and tussock. Sporadic seams of brilliant white quartz have also shattered casting drifts of white - rather like my own top. It looks look someone has driven a steamroller through a cemetery.
We take lunch on the rounded northern hillside overlooking Lockett Lake and Mt Lockett - I'm casing these out for my next trip, but more on that later.
After lunch we head back to the the top of our route down. Some helpful soul has embedded a quartz pebble arrow into the ground to mark the spot. If you're coming down the Lockett Range the route down starts in a barren gravel part of the top; if you get to the very obvious notch you have gone too far.
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| "Where did we come up?"
"No idea."
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The couple from the tent are coming up as we descend.
It's hard not to be distracted by the view and to keep an eye on your feet.
At the bottom Angela takes a skin tingling dip in the lake, while I scout out a way up the knob to the north west of Lake Sylvester. It's steepish but quite straight forward if you angle up.
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| Back to Iron Lake from part way up knob |
I'm wanting to come back this way as I've heard there is a route to Lake Lockett. Sure enough, just as the ridge takes a jink right and becomes flatter as it heads down towards the hut, there is a cairn and an iron stake 50 odd metres north west off the ridge. The map shows a clearing running down to the Iron Lake Stream from here.
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| Across to Lake Lockett |
It's quite a long wander back down the ridge, and the hut takes an age to get closer. On arrival the others are relaxing, after having practiced their route finding and cairn spotting (Vanessa), and terrifying themselves on the steep loose slopes above Lake Sylvester (Jeanine).
Australia once again provides a warm 'burnt gum' tint to the evening sun. There are a couple of families in - the adults mostly in tents and the kids inside with us. We amuse them and us with a riddle game for a bit, then it becomes a bit of a mission to keep awake to see in the new year.
My pack renders up its final surprises (another rigger of beer and a second large Bunderburg ginger beer), someone else circulates a squeeze bottle of Laphroaig. The night is mild until a cool wee breeze springs up - we sit and spot satellites and meteorites and chat about not very much. At last it's midnight, and after a round of Auld Lang Syne we retire. Happy New Year.
In an astounding display of civility, the children stay asleep until after 8. We get up at a leisurely pace and have egg burritos for breakfast before packing up and ambling off down the hill.
At the bottom we sort ourselves between the two cars and I head off first with Angela. We are well on the way down the other side and are navigating past a van (so close we knock his wheel nut covers off), when someone taps on the back window of the car. "Mike said to say the keys to the other car are in his pack in your car!" The couple of strangers have raced after us to deliver the message. As I pop back to thank them the woman driving says "it was like being in a James Bond car chase!"
And that's pretty much it for the last and first 'tramp' of 2019/20. A few days at Pohara and I'll be ready for the next installment.
Postscript
It seems like there were some challenges for Vanessa which I hope she enjoyed - even if only in retrospect. In revenge she took the others horse riding the next day.Why Sylvester Hut for New Year's? Angela reckons Sylvester is part of German traditions around New Year. Apparently, in Germany they celebrate the fourth century Pope Sylvester I on 31 December. A bit of an excuse for a drunken knees up which seems appropriate given the excesses of some of those that have held that position.
New Year's aside, the Diamond Lakes district around our Sylvester Hut provides stunning scenery that is reason enough for a visit. Inner peace? - not so much.
Options
A day or two can be quite happily spent at Sylvester: pop up to Iron Hill, a more ambitious loop to Lake Ruby and Diamond Lake, across to Lockett Lake or maybe even up Mt Lockett, exit to the dam via diamond Lake Stream and the Quarry ... a bit of web surfing throws up GPS routes and notes from various sources.The route northwest up the Lockett Range (or back) is popular. Depending on your appetite it seems doable in a longish day (9-10 hours) or bitten off in two half days with a night at Ruby Lake.
