Saturday 30 May 2020

Ruahine Corner and a tragic end to a weekend

Another trip into the northern Ruahine Range. This one is a bit of an adventure with some beautiful country and challenging weather.  But the weekend has a tragic end with the death of a tramper in the area.  He was swept away while crossing the Makaroro River with a companion at the mouth of Gold Creek and has been much on my mind in recent weeks.

My trip has multiple goals - explore a track from Parks Peak Track to Barlow Hut, head up river to tackle the spur to Kylie Biv, get across to Ruahine Corner Hut, and tackle the spur from Colenso Hut up to Rangiwhakamataku.  The weather forecast promises ample rain peaking late Sunday into Monday with a bit of wind. I'm thinking there is a reasonable chance I'll be implementing one of various contingency plans.

What:    Nav, tops and tracks
Where:  Northern Ruahine Range
When:    30/5 to 2/6/20
Who:     Solo
Maps








The usual early start and long drive sees me at the Wakarara road end just as two ute loads of hunters pull up.

They drive down to the river side while I park at the top park and follow them down on foot about 8.30.  The morning is overcast but mild.  We chat briefly as they load up for a hunt around the Yoeman Track area - I'm passing through there so am glad to head out ahead of them. A wee four wheel drive is already parked up - tracks suggest it is mountain bikers.

Half an hour later I'm at the turn off to Yoeman's track and leave the forestry road behind. The track is on old logging way so is solid and wide.  The regenerating bush is pleasant and not dripping wet this time.  A little over 10 minutes later I'm at the junction to Parks Peak Track and relieved that the hunters will now be left well behind.



Yoemans Track

The track starts climbing gently and then more steeply - at some point it transitions from an old road to a wideish track, then a typical Ruahine track (i.e. wide cut).  Almost immediately I'm seeing fungi again - they are mostly more mature than last week with quite a few starting to rot away but still plenty of them - the specimens that follow were in the space of about 15 minutes.
























About 50 minutes from the junction, the track flattens for a bit and a flock of whiteheads come down to scold as I amble through pleasant mossy forest.  A few minutes later the track breaks into some clearings and back into bush. It all feels familiar after only a week away.








The track breaks into more stunted beach and clearings and there's a bit of clag about.  Ahead a ridge runs away to the left which must be where I'm heading.  At 1030 I reach the cairn just before my intersection - it's at about 1200m and about 3 minutes from the turn-off for the track to Barlow Hut.  The turn off is not where the ridge leaves the main ridge - it's a bit before so the track drops and sidles along the ridge then pops up onto the side ridge.



Target spur ahead


The track is not marked on the map - but there's a sign and the map shows some good spurs.  The bottom looks somewhat steep so I'm interested to find where it runs. 

I drop through scrubby bush and pop out at the top of a wee erosion scar. There's not much to tell where to go but you drop diagonally down and right across the scar to re-enter the bush as it narrows off. Sporadic orange triangles mark a fairly faint track that sidles across to scramble onto the side ridge.

The track remains fairly faint and the triangles are somewhat casual - I reach a large, rank pool and, shortly after, an erosion face that gives views to the flanks of the main range with the tops well clouded in.  The top of the ridge is often broad with long flat spells in open bush. There's a few spots where I have to cast around to find the trail but I keep my eyes peeled and find where the markers drop steeply down a spur to head towards the river near Barlow Hut.

I drop quite steeply for a bit heading, slightly up river of the hut, then land on a bit of a terrace where I lose the trail.  No matter, the bush is open enough and I meander down before a final messy scramble to the river, which is at normal flow.

A minute or two downstream I pass where the track enters/leaves the bush. There are three small triangles marking the spot, so it is easy to miss, from there it's three minutes to the hut.



There are three orange triangles over there somewhere






It's a bit before 12.10 and it has taken about 1 hr 35 to make the descent. The last visitor to the hut was a week ago.  I check the entry from my previous visit and note that the hunters staying in the hut at the time didn't put their names in the log.  A wrap for lunch and I head away at 12.30.

The valley is reasonably open here but starts to narrow.  There are no problems, but a few spots of rain start to speckle the rocks indicating that the weather is starting to come in, and it's going to be getting progressively more slippery.

A reasonably sized trout is a bit startled to see me and splashes to get out of the shallows and arrow off upstream about 10m. When I catch up, it arrows off down stream. I discover I have to backtrack to cross, which sends it haring back up stream again.  I don't know anything about trout but it was interesting how short a distance it went to escape and that it stayed in the same very short stretch of river.

About 50 minutes from the hut I reach the foot of the spur to Kylie Biv.  I have a sit down to study the map next to a blue green pool - it's not obvious where best to start climbing and it looks fairly steep from the river side. I potter up stream but quickly reach a gorge which would entail being wet to the armpits.


Just chillin at the base of Kylie spur







About 1.45pm I find a tortuous way up a face just before the gorge but suspect it would be sensible to explore up the side creek - it couldn't be any worse.  A slow 50 minutes from the river there is a slip that drops from the spur top to the side creek that may give better access - but it's quite possible there are waterfalls in the creek, so no guarantees.

It's a slow grind upwards - there are animal trails as usual but no real indication of people.  I have plenty of time to take pauses and try to keep a steady pace.  The bush is pretty good generally but the possibility of a leatherwood belt is on my mind.

The spur levels off at a knob (pt 1065) which has a rockface that might provide enough shelter for a bivvy at a pinch.





Higher up the leatherwood starts to appear and the going gets slower still.  By now it is well clagged in and I'm getting nicely wet from the vegetation.  Still - I'm glad I packed my newer coat which is not as robust as its older MacPac brethren but is still way more waterproof than my old faithful.

The lack of visibility means I probably missed some good routes through the scrubby bits and did it a bit harder than necessary.  The spur feels a bit interminable as subsequent rises emerge from the gloom and the cheerful blue biv fails to appear across every flat clear patch.  I think on a good day you would find reasonable routes through the scrub.

I have been somewhat relaxed about the time but it is starting to get dim when I arrive at the Biv around 5.10.  That's 3hr 25 for a 800m climb from the river so pretty slow going - partly terrain and partly fitness.

Before I settle in and peel off sodden gear, I case the area and find the toilet.  It's one of those shelterless boxes perched in the tussock - I hope I won't be needing it during the night.

The Biv is the standard two mattress affair - basic but comfy.  I get straight into my bag and set about making dinner.  The day has taken a little longer than anticipated but has gone to plan.  The weather isn't going to get any better though so I study the map for tomorrow and think about contingencies for Monday.

It's a quiet night and a good long sleep.  The morning is very similar to the afternoon before. As I dig my boots out from under the hut I have that mild dread at the inevitable dragging on of cold, wet gear.



Kylie in the morning


Around 8.10 I head for the ridge top in clag.  There's only a little wind so I warm up quickly.  The tops here are broad, flat and scattered with tarns - any foot trail tends to dissipate rapidly and is hard to find again.  This proves for tricky navigation in clag but the veg is mostly knee height or lower so it's not so bad.

I'm aiming to follow along off the east side of the ridge top to find the sign marking the top of Totara Spur and take it from there. This works out fine but I can't see any foot trail from there, despite knowing that there is a line of stoat traps leading along the ridge.

I pick my way to the ridge top and follow north until the gentle rise tops out at what must be pt 1503.  A short way north down the slope is an old wooden sign pointing to the track to Ruahine Corner.  The compass bearing from there is hardly necessary as I follow the direction of the sign, and the slope gradually forms into a spur then arrives at a newer DOC sign.

After that it is good going - the track is easy to follow down the spur and into bush. It dips into a wee saddle then sidles around pt 1370 and eventually down to a stream off Potae. I startle a couple of deer who disappear down valley before I could have got a shot in.

Ahead and above is a scarp that marks the ridge with the high point Potae - it's out of sight but the map shows that the track sidles along the ridge then climbs to join the ridge at the end of the scarp.  It's slower going through here, taking 35 minutes from the stream to the ridge, compared to under two hours from Kylie Biv to the stream.  On route there is a tree with a selection of possum barriers - maybe for mistletoe but I can't see anything.


Bangle tree

At the ridgeline (10:40) I join a good track.  There's a couple of signs with travel times - someone has left a couple of old DOC 250 traps beside one.






The track follows the ridge top.  On the right (east) are occasional windows out into the misty headwaters of the Ikawatea Stream. With the steep drop off and good bush below it looks like a lost prehistoric valley.  The odd limestone outcrop adds interest to the route.





The track drifts away from the ridge edge and drops gently towards a large clear area marked on the map.  It's broad and easy travel.

The tussock lands are huge when you reach them - the clag is still hanging around, lending an air of mystery but visibility is pretty good.  The track drifts west around the southern most tip of the tussocks to Ruahine Corner Hut. At 11.10 it has taken three hours from Kylie and 30 minutes from the track junction on the ridge.





I've heard a lot about this hut but know very little about it.  It's a good sized six bunker, with fourwheel drive access marked on the map from the NNW.

It's on the corner of a huge tussock landscape with the Makirikiri Tarns.  To the east the land drops rapidly away into the Ikawatea Stream.  To the south lies the length of the Ruahine Forest Park.  Although you could get here in a day from the east, it requires a bit of work so I suspect it is one of those huts that people see as a bit of a milestone to knock off.

Besides - to get here you travel through some stunning and varied landscapes - bushy ridges, deep cut river valleys, rounded tops, limestone bluffs and that endless tussock plateau.

And it's a good spot for an early lunch.







I have half an hour for lunch then head back at 11.40, not because there is any hurry but I'm starting to get cold.  It takes the same time, to within a minute, to get back to the junction.

From here the track gets more interesting - scrambling along past outcrops and sculptured limestone as it edges up to the high point at Potae (1312m).   The sun is trying to break through casting a rainbow into the cloud to the south.


Looking back - just past Potae

After Potae, the track starts dropping steepishly to a junction (12.30). To the right is a track for another day - it drops to the Waiokotore Stream and Biv and there's a ladder marked on the map where it starts climbing to Ohutu Ridge.  I'm interested to see if it's like the one at the Tararua Peaks. Straight ahead, the track plunges down a spur to a stream which joins the Mangatera River and gives access to Colenso Hut.




I'm noting some scuff marks on the track, which look like people, but I can't tell the direction of travel - I suspect they came up while I was at Ruahine Corner.

The stream is what you would expect from the map; a bit rough going in the head waters - narrow and slippery.  There are track markers though, frequently marking easier routes on either side of the stream. The odd patch of mud confirms that someone has come the opposite way recently.

The going gets easier and an hour from the Potae Junction there's a big flat rock face by the stream.  18 minutes later I reach the river junction.  About 1.50 and only 2.4 km to the hut.  The sign indicating 3 hr to Ruahine Hut is probably reasonably accurate as it has taken 2 hr 10 down hill.








It's slow going in the river for a start, with a bit of a clamber past a bouldery bit, but it then opens for an easy amble along a big terrace.  After that it's standard river travel - the turn to Colenso is marked with a big triangle. The mouth of the valley is narrow but it soon opens to lupin choked flats and finally Colenso Hut at 2.35.  A bit under 3 hours from Ruahine and 6hr 25 from Kylie Biv; a nice short day after yesterday and ahead of what might be a big day tomorrow.






The hut is empty, I drop gear and pop over to Lake Kokopunui (Colenso).  It's gorgeous forest here - the day is a bit dull for the lake to give it's best view, but it's an idyllic spot.  Despite creeping up to the view point, a duck spots me and within seconds this end of the lake is empty.  It's pretty cool having a place like this to yourself but the first spots of what is likely to be a good chunk of rain are starting to set in.




I decide semi dry gear would be a nice start to tomorrow so collect wood and get a fire going.
Steady rain settles in and keeps it up pretty much all night.

I'm up before dawn but it's still 7.50 before I get away. The route for the day starts up the spur opposite the hut - it's a steepish face and I can't see any obvious way to crack into it, but figure to head across then drift down valley until I find a way up.

However, first thing is the stream - it's easily crossable but significantly up. Damp boots are instantly full of water and the Lupins get my top half well on the way to being soaked by the time I get to the face opposite. It proves easy to get into the bush but there's no trail and a fair bit of undergrowth so it's slow going upwards.

I don't notice when I veer east and start following the spur top but start seeing the odd old cut branch. It's hardly open but it has been traveled before.  After a while the understory is replaced by cutty grass and it's reasonably open going up to pt 1239.

The wind is whipping over the ridge through the open trees. I shelter for a bit to grab a bite and check the map - but it''s too miserable to wait around.  It's mostly pretty typical off track travel - there's quite a few bits where you need to cast around and it takes a bit of work to get through a short scrub zone onto more open tops.

In clag and wind I plod on up to the top of Rangiwhakamataku and shelter in the lee to check the map again. Comfort feels a long way from here - there's a lot of navigation, landscape and weather in all directions to get to shelter. I'm hoping that there will be a reasonable trail through the saddle between here and the main range, as it is the most logical way to get to this peak.

From the top, another knob is visible and a bearing from there gives me a route into the saddle 200m below. There's a bit of scrub and water cascading where it doesn't usually. From the saddle I find a good trail through scattered scrub and then a tolerable foot trail up towards the main range.  It fades away but sees me most of the way up.

I've been this way before in similar conditions.  It's not difficult travel down this part of the range but with low visibility I frequently drift off the easiest path.   The northeaster whistles across the ridge slashing my left flank with rain - and rendering one glasses lens useless.  Once again I pay little attention to the exact location and just plod on over the next knob.  A brief stop huddled in the tussock behind a knob to grab a wrap and some cheese and then keep going munching on the go.

I think it's pt 1495 where I find myself floundering through deep tussock and Spikey Spaniard - I suspect there's a foot trail that sidles on the west that I missed.  In these conditions it's a frustration I could do without.

Finally I recognise the top of Te Atua Mahuru and the sign promising 1hr 30 to Sparrowhawk Biv.

The Makaroro River crossing is on my mind and I'm pretty much decided that it won't be a goer today. I'm wondering if I might be able to cross Gold Creek and exit over the farmland but will regroup at the Biv and decide there.

I head over the first knob and on to the second that has the marker for the spur to the creek and eventually Colenso Hut - a bit quicker than the route I've taken but probably not a lot of fun with increased stream flow.

Then it's the flat bit with the tarns and the climb to Maroparea - I'd love to see what this bit looks like without cloud.  However, I'm a bit more mindful about not repeating my error last time.  I pick a line off the ridge and this time get it right ... flat bit, climb to Oropu, scree slide, erosion faces ... and the short climb and turn to Sparrowhawk Biv.  All somewhat familiar now.

It's still clagged in and wet - at 3.05 I've been on the go for 7hr 15. A bit slow for the route but few breaks and I'm very relieved to get out of the weather.

Decision time, I can head down the track and find
1. I can cross the river and all is good (unlikely)
2. I can't, but can cross Gold Creek to find a way across the farmland (quite possible, but could be painful in the dark
3. both are impassable and I have to spend a cold wet night - in the tent if I'm lucky

Or I can:
4.stay in the hut, take a day's leave and head down and assess things in the morning.

It will be getting close to dark by the time I make the river and with all the rain I figure the risk of 3 is high enough that I opt for 4.  I text home and work and set about peeling off layers of sodden clothing.

The Biv has a vestibule - it may have a dirt floor but it's great to be able to hang out dripping clothes and crawl into my bag. They won't be dry in the morning but better than the alternatives.

I'm out of dehy but a soup and wrap is fine for dinner followed by a bit of chocolate.  It takes a while to warm up but time isn't a problem.  Outside the rain lets up - it's sheltered from the wind here so it's quiet and calm. There's been four visitors since my last time here and I've been through 4 times in the last page or so - definitely worth frequent flyer points.

After another good night's sleep I take my time in the morning and get away at 8am.  The sun is just piercing the clag - it's calm and there's a bit of blue showing through above the ridge - I reckon it will burn off.








I rapidly drop below the thin cloud into a sunny morning. There's a stream in the erosion face to my left that wasn't there last time I came through, so the landscape is still pretty soggy.

It's a long spur (something over 5km).  The morning sun is slanting in and it's good bush. I can hear the river from further up valley from my left - it seems louder than last time but I may just be being paranoid.  It fades as I drop and intervening spurs block the sound, after a while the sound of Gold Creek starts drifting up from the right.

Towards the bottom I'm craning for views of the river. The first glimpse of Gold Creek shows it will be passable - but the river looks wide and grey.

At 9.50 I'm standing at the junction and taking stock.  The river emerges from a bit of a gorgy section and the usual two channels have merged into a wide grey surface.  The river bed here is free of boulders and I can't see any indication of anything below the surface, apart from the gravel spit between the two channels which is signaled by a calm spot. This will break the crossing into two sections with a break between. There's plenty of space to cut diagonally down with the current, and there is a good distance downstream before any impediments. It's a close call but I decide to venture in and see what the current is like.

It's just above knee deep but there's a lot of force in the water, I've clasped my poles together and am leaning on them heavily.  The current pushes my feet sideways and scours the gravel from underneath - it would be easy to slip.  Edging through and down the main current it's only a few steps before I'm stepping up the loose edge onto the gravel spit. The next channel proves to be gentler and I'm soon standing on the other side looking back.  A bit relieved, a bit thoughtful if it was the right call to cross and mindful that the car is further down - on the other side.


Looking back across the river to Gold Creek

I scramble into the bush and follow the track up to the terrace and along to the end of Makaroro Road.  About a kilometre later a large helicopter flies slowly up valley out of sight behind the pines, I see it appear above the bottom of the spurs and hover.  I keep walking wondering what's up and figuring that if they see me they might want to have a chat. It flies down valley again and disappears.

There's a wee view spot as the track drops off the terrace - it gives a glimpse of the river above the crossing point - it's braided into channels but it doesn't look easy. I decide not to try where the track usually crosses as the single channel is narrow and deep and the river barrels towards a corner. Hanging a right at the bottom of the terrace I follow the 4WD track to the river. There are fresh footprints in the river bed which strikes me as a bit odd at this time on a Tuesday.

I'm sitting on my pack studying the river when the helicopter comes down valley sideways and slowly.  Someone is hanging out the side door - I give a wave and after pausing a bit they continue on down river. 

This crossing looks a little trickier - I walk the bank and pick the best line that gives the longest run out. A few paces into the crossing I catch a foot on a lip in the river bed and go down on one knee. Suddenly the force of the water is very apparent as it pours over my shoulder. I manage to keep aligned with the flow and the next step takes me into shallower water then a series of soggy steps to the bank.

I drip my way to the end of the road end which is muddy with vehicle tracks. Something has been going on.

Shortly after 11, I arrive at the car and set about getting into dry clothes.  Another helicopter loops above and lands a few hundred metres away near some farm buildings - a group of fluoro shapes are milling about. No one seems to be interested in a lone tramper so I pack up and head out.  I figure that they have found what, or whomever, they were looking for and are winding operations up.

Postscript

Checking the news when I get home I'm sad to hear that the body of a tramper was recovered downstream of the Gold Creek junction.  From the article it looks like they found him about, or shortly before, the time I came through and that he and his companion had been crossing at the same point as me but the afternoon before. Later, his name is released but not much further detail.

None of the preceding should be taken as criticism of their decision making. I don't know what the river was like when they tried to cross, and I may very well have made the same decision having crossed at that point previously and given the increased stability that a second person provides.

I've been reflecting on the events and my decisions as a solo tramper. I crossed safely twice despite a stumble on the second crossing - and I believe that even if I had been carried down stream there was enough run out to recover and extract myself. But ... with rivers, everything can change with one slip - there's a very fine margin between being in control and being in trouble.

An aside about walking poles and risking stating the obvious - they are great for balance in river beds and easy crossings but even two together are no replacement for a good stick.

When it comes down to it, you make decisions based on the situation that presents - and you recognise that the risks are higher when you're on your own. In future I'll be thinking of him when the decision involves a river.

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