Cone SAREX - 2

An email arrives out of the blue from Wairarapa Search and Rescue (SAR) noting that I'd been a missing party for an exercise a couple of years ago (more than three as it turns out) and would I be available to do so again.

It's good to be able to help out in some small way and you always learn a thing or two on these sort of outings, so I'm more than happy to oblige. 

A few days out, Tony (Police) touches base to confirm the briefing for the missing persons party is at the Masterton SAR base at Midday Friday and we'll be heading up to Cone to camp for the night before deploying to our locations. We duly convene and receive our instructions ...

What:   SARex
Who:     Paul, Fiona, Cameron, me
Where:  Cone area - eastern Tararuas
When:   15-17 November 2019
Photo credits:   Fiona, apart from the bad ones of the inside of my fly and the clematis   
Maps:






Saturday details - camp at triangle, broken leg at arrow, F&C purple, cancelled route blue

Tony has outdone himself with the creativity of the backstory. Paul, Fiona, Cameron and I are a group of Christian aid workers just returned from Vanuatu and headed into the hills for a bit of adventure.  Paul's wife is not too thrilled about the prospect given his fitness but has dropped us at the Waiohine road end - she has some vaguely outlined intentions that will be fed to the Incident Management Team at the appropriate time.

We're supplied with written story lines, injury descriptions, RTs (with a scramble channel as well as the same channels as the rescue teams so we can follow progress), grid reference to be missing at, GPS unit and ration packs for the weekend before a member of the constabulary (in the role of Paul's wife) takes us to the road end.

In real life, Paul is an experienced tramper who has been the missing person on quite a few SAR exercises including the one I went on. Fiona and Cameron are Wellington SAR volunteers who are looking forward to the experience from the other side of the fence.

Just before we head off we take a group photo which will be supplied to the IMT.





We take it slow on the way up and over the familiar route to Cone Saddle. Although there's been a bit of rain, the mud is still el dente. We check in with Tony from the saddle and start up to Cone itself.  As we climb it gets colder and windier. The forecast bad weather is starting to come through so we keep an eye out for possible 'plan B' camping spots should the high camp be untenable - there's not much in the offing though.














At the bushline we disperse through the low goblin forest to try to find our own wee niches. The wind is whipping across the open top of Cone and driving the first of the drizzle through the sparse cover of the forest edge. It's looking like a very uncomfortable night is in the offing.

The others find their positions and I plumb for the spot I used last time - it's a bit damp underfoot but flat and has some usefully spaced trees. The fly whips in the wind and the para cord ties itself in notes to frustrate increasingly numb fingers.

Eventually I have a low pitched fly with a jury rigged wind break down the sides from a stack of branches left by the last track clearing party. It looks wholly inadequate but I will be sleeping in my bivvy bag as well so I consider it done and pop over to Fiona and Camerons' rather more salubrious digs. They have a three sided fly with some actual head room and water boiling for dinner, I cadge a cup full and we sit in the gathering gloom watching Paul's fly whip in the wind. I can feel the roots of the tree I'm sitting against lifting as the tree flexes.

Chez Paul - the lump in the middle is him

Room for two

How low can you go?

It's a restless night. The wind batters my position with rumbling signalling when a particularly strong gust is barreling in across the tops. The fly is below the worst of it but is taking a beating and there's enough rain that water starts flowing underneath. I'm warm but definitely hunkered down to endure the night and don't get a lot of sleep with the nylon flapping a few inches above my nose.

Snug?

Tony calls up on schedule in the morning to say that there will be no helicopter flying today - this means ground teams will have to walk to our location to start the search, adding about four hours. He outlines a slightly changed scenario whereby Paul will be found more quickly but the rest of us will stick to the original plan. I radio Cameron and Fiona (about 12m away) to liaise on a get up and out time - they're keen to get moving as our target locations are in the lee of the ridge. I've already had breakfast so this gives me a bit of time to contemplate my next move.

The big down side of bivs in bad weather is the logistic complexity of getting into and out of them with out getting your dry gear wet and muddy. I spend the last few warm minutes in my sleeping bag stepping through the process.

Although the wind is still strong with belts of rain coming through, it's not too cold so once we get moving it's not bad. We leave Paul under his fly - he'll wander down the track a wee way when the search team approaches and pretend to be suffering the effects of a diabetic attack. His story will confirm our direction of travel and our intention to leave the marked track.

A brief stop to pick up water from the tarn which has an active spring in it today and shortly after we are back in beech forest and out of the wind.

There's no hurry so we amble along until where my spur diverges and I say goodbye to Fiona and Cameron. They are destined for the next major spur where they will be overcome by a violent bout of Campylobacter rendering them non-responsive - me; to break my tibia off the side of my spur.

Christian aid worker Fiona prepares for the ordeal ahead

The somewhat devout Cameron and me

With plenty of time I wander down making no effort to hide my trail. It's a bit of a tricky shape to the spur in places - left to my own devices I would have just pottered along with compass and map, but I crack out the GPS in a few spots as I don't want to stuff the exercise up by ending up in the wrong spot.

Part way down an explosion of white flowers draped through a sub-canopy tree herald a clematis vine. They glow in the low light but are tricky to get a shot of due to the wind. I assume it is Clematis peniculata or puawhananga which flowers around now.

Around the 600m contour there's a wee knob, it's about where I'm supposed to have wandered off the main line of the spur and followed a side spur north east, but for now I decide to stay put knowing I have radio coverage until a search team gets close.

It's windy but the cloud cover is trying to break - I wrap up and settle down on my sleeping mat for lunch with sleeping bag and fly spread out to dry. Every hour Tony checks in and I follow the progress of the search parties. Fiona and Cameron report that they have found a lovely flat spot on their spur and set up camp.

Fiona and Cameron - very comfortable

A party eventually radios in that Paul has been found - he dutifully delivers his messages then tags along as they are redeployed along the ridge. Time for me to head for the site of my accident. I discover that my sleeping mat has a puncture - an added incentive to be found in time to get to a hut or road end.

In the end I prop a little way up slope of my final objective and sit and read my book with half an ear on the radio. At his next call in Tony agrees that the chances of finding me here tonight aren't good so I redeploy back to my previous spot around 600m - no reading though as there are spots of rain. I don't have to wait long before another change in plan - it seems one rather than two parties will be searching my spur so I need to relocate further up, and quickly as 'there are a couple of grey hounds in that group.'

I race back up, find a plausible spot to have taken a fall (on the leeside of the spur) - and settle in again. This time in clag with the bad weather feeling ominously close.  I'm worried that the team may have beaten me and headed down to 386 according to the revised search plan (blue dots on map) but Tony calls in and confirms they are still on their way.

Soon after I hear voices from up the spur - I blow my whistle and shouting ensues. I am most decidedly a responsive patient with every intention of not having to spend another night out.

The team turn up and do their thing - assessing my condition, asking what I know about the others, reporting to base etc. They are quite proud to report the signs they have found of my trail - foot prints and scuff marks (yep - should be lots of those), a wee coloured rubber band (never seen it before), and a mock camp site (sorry - not me either). They also ask if I heard their whistling (nope - just the voices).

After a while I am miraculously healed and we proceed on down the spur - apparently the team has been retasked and we will be following the spur to Totara Flats and not the side spur to 386 (so I didn't need to race back up the hill after all).  Periodically they pause and spread out, block their ears, blow their whistles then listen intently. One of them is sure he hears a whistle but as the party closing in on Fiona and Cameron are well over a kilometre away with a strong wind it wasn't from the search exercise..

The team are still looking for signs of the other missing persons so in the interests of speed I break role and point out that I've been down and up the spur so don't get too excited by all the marks. 

The search develops a twist with the notification of a real missing person on Mt Reeve - south of the search area. A teams is duly dispatched to Tutuwai  Hut with instructions to set out early and search in the morning - another couple of teams are located to the Waiohine road end for possible deployment in the morning (however the chap walks out under his own steam in the end). The rest of the exercise continues.

At 600m the spur shape gets confused so the team follow their GPS but towards the bottom we drift off and the last 40 vertical meters is through supplejack and kiekie in the gathering dark.

At the bottom we are abruptly on flat ground and within 40 meters I'm standing on the track. It's starting to rain in earnest.

The team confer on next steps - bivvy up here or head to the hut. I'm mildly interested in their conclusion as I have absolutely no intention of spending a night out in the rain and wind with a flat sleeping mat.

Fortunately they come up with the correct answer and we head out on what will be (after one wee terrace) a flat three kilometres to Totara Flats Hut.

My headtorch batteries are just about had it but I'm not going to hold the party up to change them so stick to the leader's heels, the rest of the team strung out behind. Doing a quick count we realise that there are too many lights - it looks like another team is behind us. It turns out to be Fiona and Cameron who were left behind by their rescuers to strike camp - they seem to have recovered as well from their D&V as I have from a broken leg.

Eventually a tinge of woodsmoke in the air followed by the smell of the loo herald our arrival at a crowded Totara Flats Hut.

There's quite a few of the SAR teams in loc as well as the usual punters. A Meet-up tramping group is also settled in and I exchange a few words with Scott but am a little bit more intent on getting out of the wet and into some dinner.

There's no mattresses to be had so I settle on my deflated mat on the common room floor. Outside the wind slashes rain against the hut.  The morning can wait but we are required to be at Holdsworth road end by 10am so it will be an early start.

I sleep surprisingly well - aided by the near miraculous lack of snorers (the bunk rooms didn't fare so well apparently).

The SAR parties start heading out so the missing persons link up again and set off into the elements. The Waiohine is up and turbid - there would be no crossing it today. The track up Totara Creek is mostly a running stream until the footbridge and the start of the sidle up the hill.

One of our party is not 100% so we take it slowly and let the other parties past. It's unrelentingly soggy at the start.

The track is well marked and of a good standard. After the first steep climb it ambles along and down to the saddle between Totara and Carrington creeks. This is where it hooks up with the old route that followed Totara creek. The next section is interesting because, although it is on a bit of a spur there is often a wee stream running down the track. It is also the longest climb in the Tararuas - not because it actually is, just because you want to have it over and done with but it just doesn't seem to want to end.

Our afflicted party member is making heavy weather of the climb so we redistribute some gear and I end up with a pack on front - fortunately two ridiculously light packs make up a normal pack so it is no hardship.

The end of the climb is signalled when the track flattens and sidles east across the slope - we pop out at the junction with Gentle Annie track for the long downhill. Gear is redistributed to its rightful owner and we head on down at a good pace.

Paul points out some useful side spurs to the Atiwhakatu river and links up ridge to the old track - he clearly knows these parts very well. The weather gets progressively better as we head for the valley floor and we start bumping into day and dog walkers.

At the last bridge I hear over the radio that the van is full and is leaving - bugger, we'll have to wait for another to be dispatched.  It's not so bad though as there are patches of sun breaking through and the time passes quickly.

The SAR base is a hive of activity with the IMT winding down, teams debriefing and gear being checked in. I make a beeline for 1. the car (dry clothes) then 2. the BBQ.

Pretty soon I'm warm, dry, fed and have returned the electronics. The volunteers are exchanging notes about their various taskings; they are friendly but it's a little like any club when you're not a member so I slip away and leave them to it.

Wairarapa SAREX 2019 - Missing persons team

Postscript

I said you always learn a thing or two during these events - so,what were they?

There's how SAR teams and events operate - I'm bound to need them one day and it's good to understand what to expect. On the pragmatic side, I used a GPS in anger for about the second time in the bush and I learned the hard way how robust my sleeping pad isn't. I also have a better idea about the limitations of my fly.

The main thing that struck me though was the psychological difference between SAR team members, tramping parties and me. SAR operations are large, command and control affairs; for it all to work teams have to trust that IMT will make the decisions and do the tasking - too much autonomy would be a bad thing. The team members themselves have to be able to stick to their subtasks and work together to be effective. Decision making is by necessity through group processes within externally defined parameters and religious attention to safety. Team member skill levels are definable in terms of formal training undertaken, experience and assignment to leadership roles. It's a little like working with the army but, as volunteers, the uniform/civvy divide is less pronounced.

Tramping groups share a lot of these characteristics but without the same external command and control element and with varying degrees of formality around group decision making. Competence is often harder to gauge, highly variable and leadership self-assigned. They can be great or downright dangerous.

As a solo tramper I find group process and progress to be slow - not having the advantage of group discussion I'm used to analysing a problem while I'm walking, and only really stopping to assess a hazard or make navigation decisions. Although free of the problems of group think and risk threshold shift I have to try to avoid pitfalls like personal blind spots and failing to recognise impaired decision ability. I reckon you think differently when there's no one there to watch your back and need to be mindful about how this influences how you behave when in a group.

Although my views on the net increase in risk associated with solo tramping are on record, I did observe how being in a group changed my risk exposure.  On my own I would have stayed in Cone Hut on Friday night and headed up the ridge early Sat morning - thereby avoiding a rough night out. I would also have been off the spur and to the hut in daylight hours and less exposed to the elements by being out faster on the Sunday.

So what? I'll probably carry a bit more kit when I'm in a group as there is more standing around getting cold and higher chance of getting into some situations I would avoid on my own.

But overall, the main thing was getting a better appreciation of the hours and effort that a lot of volunteers put into SAR - I sure am a helluva lot happier knowing they're out there practicing for when I might be needing them.

Poads Road to Waiohine

Easter is looming and a few ideas are percolating around possible routes. Otaki Gorge being closed puts a dampener on a few plans, but eventually Plan A crystallises: Thursday arvo follow Te Araroa  into the north-western Tararuas (behind Levin), travel down the Main Range to exit via Waitewaewae, Otaki Forks and Waiotauru to Akatarawa Saddle. However, a number of Plan Bs are noted on the intentions sheet left with home command ... the main one being to connect at Waiohine with Mike, Angela and Toby who are over-nighting Saturday at Totara Flats. That is provided I can call-in the change - how did we ever tramp without cell phones?

Thursday 24th

We leave for the coast about 2pm smug in the knowledge that we will be beating the usual long weekend Kapiti traffic fiasco. Wrong; nose to tail until Waikanae and over an hour later than expected.

       

Kapiti traffic - Roll on the Express Way.

Much better at Poads Road Bridge
A little gloomy though.

Ready for action

At 5pm with sunset due around 7.30, the trip up to Te Matawai is looking ever more likely to end  in a bivvy beside the track. Te Araroa heads up Waiopehu Ridge giving the opportunity to stay at the hut at the bush line, but I'm taking the Ohau Gorge Track and up Gable End Ridge - so named (I assume) because it's a little like climbing the side of a house and wandering along the roof.

It's overcast and warm, so much so that at the bottom the shirt goes into the pack. The light gets dimmer until (7.15pm) the last gasp of evening sun angles in just under the cloud bank and just over the Waiopehu Ridge. The dim bush takes on the golden highlights for a few short minutes before fading into deeper gloom.

The track is reasonably easy to follow but eventually the fading light calls for the head torch. There's no signs of life from Waiopehu Hut across the valley as I come up and over Richard's Knob and join Te Araroa. The lights of Levin and possibly Palmerston North are briefly visible through the cloud.

It's quite a different proposition in the pitch black but I manage not to lose the track or fall off the edge. As it drops towards Butcher Saddle I'm concentrating on keeping upright on the slippery roots and only gradually notice the white noise of the river filtering up from the valley below. A couple of Morepork are exchanging calls from close by but not a chance of seeming them, otherwise it's a still and humid evening.

In the saddle the cloud filters through the trees scattering the headlight but finally there's a sign advising that left will take you to South Ohau Hut via Yeates Track or half an hour upwards to Te Matawai - and that's pretty much how long it takes, arriving a little before 10pm.

Judging by the log book, Te Matawai gets pretty good use and I'm lucky to have it to myself. The log is full of references to 'NOBO' and 'SOBO' - finally it clicks - it distinguishes between the NOrth BOund and SOuth BOund Te Araroa travellers.

Flashes and grumbles from a distant thunderstorm fail to materialise into anything more than some heavy drops on the roof and a bit of wind during a restful night.

Friday 25th

It looks pretty foul on the tops as I head away from the hut bright and early (well, 8.45). Pukematawai and the range to the north are invisible, but my route south down the main range intermittently peeks through. The view behind (norwest) however remains bright, with Te Matawai Hut gleaming in the sun staying visible most of the way up the ridge.  Beyond, Waiopehu Hut is just discernible if you know where to look.

Looking Back - Te Matawai Hut is the bright spec mid-left.     The near ridge runs down to Girdlestone Saddle, Gable End Ridge behind it and Waiopehu somewhere on the horizon

Looking up towards Pukematawai (obscured)

A little over an hour after leaving the hut, Pukematawai is inside a cloud with a decidedly cool and boisterous wind whipping over the ridge and trying to nick my cap. The sign at the top looms out of the clag with the cheerful advice that Dracophylum and Nichol Huts are a mere 3 to 7 hours away ... unspoken is the amount of exposed ridge between here and there.

Top of Pukematawai 200m away 

However the ridge drops away from Pukematawai and soon there is a reasonable view ahead with the Park River head waters below to the left and Te Matawai yet again visible in the distance - to the north now. I'm even thinking I might need to crack out the sunscreen. However, for the rest of the day there's more wind and clag and very little view to the east.

A more encouraging view south above Park Valley. 

The track is good going and easy to follow although the cloud soon closes in again. Across the valley a helicopter is operating - possibly on Carkeek Ridge - hopefully hunters and not a rescue.

I had been thinking of stopping for lunch at Dracophylum Hut, which is a small cheerful looking two berther, but it's only 11.30 so elect to head on for Nichols.

One for the hut baggers.

Coming over Nichols it's getting more seriously unpleasant and I'm conscious that there's a good few kilometers of exposed tops ahead including the highest point of my trip at Mt Crawford. I'm looking forward to a bit of shelter and a chance to fill up and rug up at the hut, which proves to be in good nick.

Around 2pm, cheese, salami and pita bread feed the inner man and raincoat and other pieces of kit are relocated from pack to person. The forecast is for the weather to clear. I'm quite comfortable in the conditions as they stand, and have extra layers should it deteriorate, so am happy to leave the hut and head on.

Leaving a perfectly good hut - Nichols.

With little view there's little point hanging around the tops so I count off the spot heights to and past Mt Crawford. I also grumble at myself for bringing glasses instead of contact lenses - the east-most lens misting over rapidly after each abortive wipe. Things are going well and I'm feeling pretty good so fish out the cell phone and text my intentions to switch to Plan B and the Waiohine Road end. A confirmatory response means a short stint further along the ridge to Anderson's rather than the long plunge to Waitewaewae.

There's two sets of fresh foot prints on the track so I'm half expecting company when I arrive at Anderson's Memorial Hut at 4.30. However, the log book indicates that the owners of the feet are heading on to Aokaparangi Hut. Being a two bunker I figure I might be a little less than welcome if I follow them, so call it quits for the day, hoping for another night with a hut to myself.

Anderson's Memorial Hut.

I was taken with this hut the first time I passed through with its situation on the edge of an alpine terrace enfolded on three sides by the bush. It's pleasing to see it in good nick and with an intact log book including my entry from three years ago.  There's also one SOBO entry from a poor soul who missed the Te Araroa turn off at Junction knob and has a little back tracking to do.

I don't need the fire as I'm looking forward to an early dinner, bed and undisturbed sleep.

Saturday 26th

The clag is still drifting past the windows in the morning but it could be a bit thinner above, so I'm hopeful of some better weather today. The clothes are not noticeably drier than yesterday afternoon, but it's not cold enough to be unpleasant. 

Departure time

The track dives straight into mossy beech forest to dip and then climb. 35 minutes after leaving I'm looking back from the flanks of Kahiwiroa at a bank of cloud with Mt Crawford above in the distance.

Mount Crawford and the range disappearing to the North

An hour 45 after leaving (and having shed some kit) I'm enjoying changing cloudscapes from Aokaparangi. A lot of the ridge travel may be in clag but the wind is light and the breaks provide some beautifully typical Tararua views.

North from Aokaparangi

I'm still following the footprints from the party that came through yesterday afternoon with some occasional fresh deer prints. After the turn off to the hut, the prints re-appear fresh so they have clearly regained the trail after a nights rest.

The way forward and South - a little gloomy

Forty five minutes later - much better!

My recollection of the next section is of several steep clambers and losing track of the number of spot heights. I do a little better this time but it is quite lumpy and I'm still expecting one more when I realise I'm ascending Maungahuka. The clag drops away behind and more of the main range is visible north and south. The wind has also dropped to a most uncharacteristic calm.

North from the shoulder of Maungahuka ...

... looking up to the hut ...

... and southwest to the Tararua Peaks ...
I swear I could see the ladder when I took the photo but can't spot it now.

Just before 12 I stop in at the hut to find that the footprinters have left 45 minutes ago after noting in the log book their nervousness about tackling the ladder.

At the top of Maungahuka I see two figures angling up a steep face beyond the peaks and can hear their voices in the still air.  They have clearly overcome any nervousness about the clamber but are too far away to be able to exchange information.

The peaks scarcely register with climbers but they are a little daunting to trampers for the first time. I was a bit hesitant about tackling them on my own so follow their progress with proprietorial interest, imagining how they'll be feeling and expecting that their enjoyment will be all the sharper for the passing nerves.

Decisions

Although it's tempting to carry on along the range, about 1230 I turn my back to follow my ridge down into cloud and a thousand metre knee-curdling descent.  The sun is hot for a brief period but thins as the mists thicken long before the bushline (1100m).

Down into the gloom

There's not much to say about the rest of the descent - the 100m rise over Concertina knob prolongs the agony but is a good excuse to stop for lunch. I also pass through the territory of a couple of fantails who flick by to see what's up and three rifleman who just go about their business barely giving a glance to my pathetic attempts to imitate their high-pitched sounds.

Eventually there are glimpses of bush rather than cloud across the valley and river noise from below. After the final scramble down, the trees open to show the crystal clear Hector River flowing over clean grey boulders. Also the gleaming white form of a naked man gingerly easing himself into the frigid water. I pause briefly until he's fully committed then trot out onto the swing bridge calling a cheerful greeting and condolences about the cold (hmm, that could be misinterpreted).  I'm probably the first person down the tracks in days so his luck is not in. Kudos to him though for a full immersion in a cold river on a cloudy day.

Naked man just out of shot to the left

It's 2.20 and Neill Forks Hut is just across the bridge. It's also full with a party from the Hutt Tramping Club including Naked Man. There's a couple of semi-pointed remarks about my intentions and the number of bunks, so I accept a cup of tea and indicate that I will be heading on.

Half an hour later I'm on the way up Cone Ridge for the second time in as many weeks, but from a different direction.  The knees quite rightly grumble about a 600m climb after the mistreatment down from Maungahuka. However, an hour later the ridge provides for more relaxing travel south in recently familiar territory.

Phew.

It's a little before 5 when I reach the tops at Cone. The cloud keeps coming and going and it is a little different to a couple of weeks back ...

Cone

Then and now ...

I figure I can make the road end before it's too dark, and there's cell coverage, but Brother Number 1 is away from home so can't do a pick up, and I don't relish camping at the road end. Cone Hut it is then.

It's a pretty quick trip down the ridge to the saddle stopping briefly for (another) fruitless attempt to capture the magic of sunlight through goblin forest.

As good as I think I'll ever get on my phone

There's another pause when I run into the tail end of a party of seven. It's 5.30 and he's going pretty slow, so too is his wife five minutes further on, and two young woman another five minutes later. At 6pm at the Saddle the other three are not particularly concerned about the progress of the rest of the party and elect to follow me down to the hut - I'm figuring the rest will be hobbling in well after dark.

At 6.30 I'm first at the hut and get dibs on the sleeping platform. A solo chap soon turns up from Kaitoke having eschewed the crowded Tutuwai, despite which he's keen for a chat and a chain smoke.

A little later the two women from the saddle turn up having left the third chap behind. The mystery of the mixed party is resolved - four of them are from Marsden College doing a Duke of Ed. trip accompanied by the required adult supervision that they arranged via face book. The son of said adults makes up the party. The parents and the other two students eventually turn up just before 9pm - much to my relief as, very selfishly, I wasn't keen on being on a search party.

They are having a fairly eventful time - the trip from Totara Flats Hut via Cone Ridge has taken almost 10 hours; one of them has impressively bruised her ankle (and is pretty upbeat about it), and the father is going through all sorts of agony due to various health conditions including the aftermath of a broken back.

After a few days of my own company it's pretty full-on, but the students are quite competent with what they are setting about and considerate.

The sleeping arrangements resolve into six in the hut, parents under a fly (by preference), and the solo chap on the table outside. I thought this was a little mad but it didn't rain and he was adamant he didn't require floor space in the hut.

Sunday 27th

There's is absolutely no hurry for me in the morning so I let the mayhem clear a little before I exit pit and arrange breakfast. Solo chap is tossing up exiting via Marchant or Dobson Loop and the other party is aiming to exit over Mt Reeves. The lass with the injured ankle is strapped up and the father decants gear to his family to lighten his massive load. The Duke of Ed team are packed first and have remarkably economical packs. Eventually the last of them head off and the hut is suddenly quiet in the morning sun.

Built in 1946 Cone hut has survived some recent vandalism but shows signs of continuing graffiti assaults by the mindless. A rather nice slab woodshed has been built with a small water butt from the roof and the uneven dirt floor has been covered with tidy plywood. I remember being very relieved to reach this hut on a previous occasion and hope it serves for many more years.

The sun streams through the trees for the trip over to Walls Whare which is becoming quite familiar. I meet a man and woman with rifle and dog on the way up but no-one else until the swing bridge. About an hour and a half after leaving the hut I'm hunting out Mike and Angela's car on a hot sunny day. They turn up a couple of hours later with Toby having enjoyed camping out on Totara Flats. In the meantime I've had a wash, dried my gear and brewed my last coffee sachet.

Coda

I was happy with how all my kit performed and it was great to finally negotiate the territory from Pukematawai to Junction Knob. The route was interesting and varied, with the capacity to be significantly challenging in bad weather. I reckon it would be doable in two days by the fit, but two and a half to three allows a little more time to enjoy the views, take a few pics and not have to leap out of bed early.

All up, a mighty fine long weekend.

Gear notes

Mostly used standard kit. The penny stove performed fine inside and in the open at the Waiohine carpark. Still wouldn't want to rely on it for trips not involving huts. Macpac bivvy tent was carried but still remains to be rigorously tested. Zamberlan boots continue to impress with their comfort, lightness and (so far) durability.

Lost on Mount Cone

When brother number one inquires about being a volunteer victim for a Search and Rescue exercise he's going to be on, it sounds like a great excuse to get out in the hills for a good cause. Josh needs no convincing, so we provide our details to Tony the organiser (Police) and receive our instructions.

It's been a good wee while since I've been tramping rather than biking, but boots and other essential kit are soon turfed out of forgotten corners.

The scenario: a party of six Forest and Birders on a Kaka counting trip get split up on their way from Cone Saddle to Totara Flats Hut via Cone Ridge with some suffering various mishaps. The volunteers are to start with a Friday evening briefing and walk into Cone Saddle, for an early start up to Cone Ridge in the morning.

We arrive at the Masterton Police station at 6pm for an exercise and radio briefing and are issued with ration packs, radios, PLBs, spare batteries, GPSs, and snacks. My small, light pack is bulging and some kilos heavier by the time we head off for the SAR base and, after a bit of farfing, we are finally in the van to Walls Whare. The fading light draws a veil over some unpleasant looking clouds, but the forecast only suggests a few light showers and fading wind.

The evening start is necessary as some of the SAR teams are helping with the Tararua Mountain Race (Holdsworth to Kaitoke) that is coming through the area in the morning. The teams will join the exercise as they are freed up from the race and Tony is keen that our paths don't cross.

At Waiohine Shelter two buses are blocking the road.  These turn out to be dropping off 90 odd trampers from Victoria Uni who are heading into Totara Flats in the morning - woe betide anyone that wants to sleep there this weekend. We determine that they won't be getting in the way of the race, and should be outside the search area, which is a relief.

Tony drops us off in pitch black, to head across the swing bridge and turn left. It's a nice cruise up the hill under lights, with occasional spits of rain.  We pretty quickly find out that Claire (SAR volunteer from DoC and mountain runner) is the greyhound in the group. At Cone Saddle we completely fail to find the bench and water source that Tony had given directions to, but there's plenty of space to set tents on the track and we turn in after 12. Also after a bottle of port that Iain (ex Police and well versed on matters SAR) has kindly carted up the hill. It's quiet apart from Moreporks exchanging calls through the night.

In the morning we're up in the dark and off up the ridge track by 6.45am to avoid being spotted.  We leave Jordan (young butcher and keen hunter) behind to head up Clem Creek to break his leg. He is to play the part of the last party member to leave the Saddle, who heads off to find a short cut instead of up the ridge track. Next, we drop Paul a few hundred meters before spot height 812 to get stung by a wasp and start wandering, with anaphylactic shock, down an old track (block 19?).  He is to be unresponsive so it will be interesting to see how they find him. If treated, or able to write, he will tell rescuers that he was the fifth to leave up the Ridge Track.

I'm loving the climb through the familiar bush in the cool morning, heading up into the beech forest with moss underfoot and the profusion of plants that cram around the track whenever it breaks out of the forest. There's no pressure and the four of us chat our way up to Cone where we leave Iain to wander up the Neill Ridge track a short way. He will be the grumpy team leader who left first in the morning, took a wrong turn, and returned to see Josh and I in the distance heading North along Cone Ridge shouting for help. He will be feigning severe cramps and will make the phone call that will kick the event off. He shows every indication of relishing the opportunity to be a royal pain for the search party.

It's cloudy on the tops and nippy, so the remaining three keep moving, pausing briefly to mark a perfect camp spot just inside the bushline and the location of flowing water from the tarns at the north end of the clearing. We're in no hurry as the search teams will not be deploying for hours.  The clearing is home for the usual mix of tussocks, shrubs and herbs with perfect wee white flowers underfoot.



Cone Ridge from Cone
(On Sunday)

Tony has identified a flat area on the ridge, 400m or so before Neill Forks turn off, where people often get lost.  Josh will be having an asthma attack and we will wander east off the track. When asked we will recall leaving Cone Saddle after Claire and we haven't seen anyone since then.  Claire meantime heads further along the track to spot height 957 to be (hopefully) found waiting on the track. She will recall leaving the saddle after Iain and report that no-one has come past her.

Josh and I have a bit of fun trying to find our spot as the GPS is a bit confused under the canopy but eventually (after thrashing around in leather wood and swamp) we find a suitable location in some gnarly, mossy goblin forest, radio in our co-ordinates, and settle in for the wait. It's chilly and damp so we set up a fly and (eventually) a small fire.  The need for these is short lived as the weather soon clears into a beautiful and unusually still Tararua day, giving us a tiny slice of vista of the Tararua Peaks and Maungahuka between the mossy trunks.

Home for the afternoon
East side of Cone Ridge

The radio keeps us entertained. The missing persons' radios link to Tony at HQ, and are scrambled so we can switch and follow the SAR base coms as events unfold.

The event kicks off around 11 with Iain's phone call.  Team 4 is dispatched by helicopter to Mt Cone to locate and extract the requisite information from him.  They are a bit under utilised during the day but are eventually tasked with checking and confirming that no-one else has been up the Neill Ridge Track. Team 2 (with dog) is quickly dispatched from Totara Flats Hut up the Cone Ridge Track.  It looks like it's all on, but it turns out that team 2 are slow to come up the Ridge, and team 4 are not tasked to come along our way, so we have a lot longer to wait.

Meantime, team 1 (with dog) heads up the Ridge Track from Cone Saddle, and the dog detects where Paul left the track.  They miss him at first but ironically find a wasps' nest.  Incident Control re-task them to head up to Mt Cone but have a change of heart (we suspect after a strong hint) and allow the dog to have another go.  They finally find Paul at 1620 and he's free to head out and home.  We spare a thought for team 3 which has been dispatched up the old track and thrash their way up the spur to no real purpose.

We listen as team 5 who has been choppered into Totara Flats (apparently by mistake) make rapid tracks down to Makaka Creek at the foot of the Cone Saddle Track. When they reach the spot we groan in sympathy as they are dispatched on a fruitless mission up Makaka Creek but Tony eventually takes pity and they are brought back to the main track.

Josh and I guess that Control will eventually dispatch team 4 in our direction; which they do, but despite a hurry up from base, team 2 is still nowhere in the offing (much to Claire's consternation who is running out of water). We pack up camp and, after a brief conflab with Tony, relocate closer to the track in the hope of a quicker find, and maybe even a chance to get out tonight.

At 1800 the final events of the day unfold in rapid succession. Team 2 finally reach Claire to ascertain that no-one has passed her, and a few minutes later we respond promptly to team 4's sound line. They appear out of the bush exchanging good nature banter and settle into their roles (interviewing the victim, radioing base, and standing around giving cheek to the others: 'How the hell did you get through school without being thumped!?' - 'Dunno - but have you ever seen a nose this straight on someone this cheeky?'). They treat Josh's imaginary 9 hour long asthma attack with an imaginary inhaler and we leave them to head back to Mt Cone, a km or so ahead of Claire.



Team 4 waiting extraction on Sunday

The SAR team's are instructed to camp and stand by for a night exercise, whilst we are left to our own devices, apart from the still unlocated Jordan who has been incommunicado apart from occasional texts with Tony.

The sun is setting behind Mt Hector as we reach Mt Cone and Iain, who has elected to stay there for the night.  Claire arrives shortly after and we decide to camp, finding a perfect spot just inside the bush line.  It's a clear evening but decidedly nippy so after setting camp and dinner we pop out to look at Wairarapa lights then quickly turn in.  The wind comes up in the night but we are well tucked in and, apart from Josh resetting his fly, we have a good sleep. It's about time to switch to the winter weight sleeping bag though.

Josh near the top of Cone
Neill Ridge in the background

Tararua Peaks and Maungahuka from Cone

We wake up with the light in no particular hurry and head off down the ridge listening on the radio as the SAR teams set about their tasks.

Mt Cone campsite
My Macpac biv in the foreground - Josh has broken his fly down already

Team 3 quickly locates Jordan, who is undoubtedly quite keen to be found.  They administer first aid, make a pack stretcher, and carry him five minutes before being released.  Team 1 are ahead of us heading down the ridge while teams 2 and 4 are sent to Mt Cone for helicopter extraction.  We are half way down the Ridge Track when we are offered a trip out - if we climb 300m back to the top.  We elect to walk out and save SAR a few dollars.

Just enough money in the budget to save a few legs

It all wraps up quickly and neatly.  We catch team 1 with dog (who is having the absolute best time) on the way down to Walls Whare, teams 2 and 4 are lifted off Cone, arriving about the same time as us, and teams 3 and 5 are lifted out from Makaka Creek intersection shortly after.  This gets everyone back to the SAR base for an excellent BBQ and debrief around midday.

We exchange experiences with the team members and Iain continues to put the hard word on Josh and I to sign up as volunteers.  The debrief is direct and robust, pulling out all the issues we had noted and more, and giving an insight into the decision making in Incident Control. We also get an explanation for Jordan's radio silence - the channel had switched to the wrong DOC channel when he had changed batteries. Hmm, I might have detected a little bit of embarrassment on Tony's part for not working this out!  Bro number one confirms that Team 2's slow progress was due to diligent searching and not entirely to the amount of fresh deer scent the dog had to contend with.

All up, it was a great weekend in the bush. The tramping was low key but the weather was superb. Following the exercise by radio and attending the debrief was fascinating and informative. It was a great bunch of people involved; the volunteers were good to work with and we felt welcomed and appreciated by Police and SAR. It was also a good opportunity to support a service that trampers rely on being available when they need it.

Gear notes
The only new kit I was trialing was my Macpac bivvy tent (900g packed) which proved perfect for the conditions but didn't really get tested. The hoop over your head keeps the single skin sil-nylon off your face and condensation wasn't a problem either night. I don't look forward to using it in the rain; you can stash some kit by your head but there isn't really room for the pack and getting changed inside it is difficult. Far superior to a bivvy bag in my limited experience though. Once again the Exped air mattress proved its worth - it's so much better than my old Thermorest. The Penny Stove was fine outside in very little wind.

Josh had a number of bits of interesting kit.  He had a new lightweight pack (Cuban fibre?) with only what you need, minimal frills and good space, water proof and seemed comfy enough.  His MSR tent fly was beautifully crafted, a great size for one, or more at a pinch, and providing multiple pitching options.

Holdsworth Maungahuka loop

Solo weekend tramp

Click to access map in new window

There are one or two places in the Southern Tararuas that I've been meaning to get to, so with winter breathing down the neck it's a question of taking the first opportunity to string a trip together to knock a few of them off.  In particular, I have never quite got around to getting to the top of Holdsworth.  It's touted as being one of the great walks so normally quite busy but should be quiet at this time of year.  There's is also a bit of kit I'm wanting to test; my first experience tramping with daily disposable contact lenses and trialling off road running shoes instead of boots.

The trip is shaping up to be very up and down; tramp up to Powell hut, over Holdsworth, drop to Mid Waiohine hut, climb up to the Tararua range at Aokaparangi, travel along to Maungahuka, drop to Neill forks hut, climb onto Cone Ridge, drop to the top end of Totara Flats, up Totara Stream over and down the Gentle Annie to the Holdsworth Road end.

The weather forecast during the week settles on predicting a southerly causing a bit of rubbish weather on Friday, clearing with scattered showers on Saturday and a clear day Sunday.  Slightly marginal but not too bad.  Provided the Southerly doesn't stick around longer than expected.

The plan is to knock off most of the climb up Holdsworth on Friday night.  As this will be a torchlight exercise on a highway of a track it doesn't really matter whether arrival at Powell hut is 11pm or 1am.

In the end Friday is hectic and it's after 9pm by the time the car is parked at the Mt Holdsworth road end (having left the usual detailed intentions sheet at home of course).  Another car has just pulled in and the chap turns out to be heading up to Donnelly Flats where a party of Palmerston North pupils are doing time for their Duke of Edinburgh awards.

The stars are clear despite the forecast but it's chilly.  Passing through the gate at the start, a small felt pen sign catches my eye; apparently the Gentle Annie track is closed and you should use the Mountain House Shelter track.  WTF!! Travelling up a steepish spur on an unfamiliar track by torchlight is a somewhat different proposition to what I had signed up for.

It's twenty to ten so I decide to head up to the base of the Gentle Annie track and if there are no signs there I'll head up that way, it's not like they will be working after all.  However the sign is repeated at the base so they must be serious.  The other chap gives a few tips about the alternative track and studying the map it runs up a spur between two streams so would be pretty hard to get lost on. 

There must have been a bit of rain through as the bush is dripping wet.  The going is very easy up to Donnelly Flat where, judging by the tents and torches, half of Palmerston North have camped out.

The track narrows and becomes a bit lumpy but still pretty good and my turn off is signposted.  The track up the spur isn't too steep and although it's slippery underfoot the going is good.  You just have to get used to splitting your attention between the footing and searching for the way up between the ghostly trunks. And those orange triangles don't exactly stand out at night.

At the top of the spur the Powell Highway is marked with the same felt pen sign saying the track down is closed.  Mountain House shelter passes then it is up and into clag with the Southerly whistling in the tree tops.  The track is easy to follow and lovely wooden steps have been put up the steep bits.

Exiting the bushline I notice: this set of steps has a hand rail, the hand rail is very rough, and that this is due to a layer of ice.  Perhaps a bit colder up here then I was expecting.  The clouds are close in and the wind is on the boisterous side.  It's not far to the hut so I don't stop to put a coat on.

A break in the clag shows the lights of various Wairarapa towns strung out in the middle distance it's a bit too chilly to pause and try to label them and they are obscured by cloud before long.

Arriving at the hut about 1140 there is no one in. It is dark and cold but being late I'm not about to light a fire, so get into warm dry clothes and a sleeping bag in that order.  Not before a last trip outside to discover that it is lightly snowing.  There is also cell phone coverage so a text provides some comfort at home that I'm not staggering about in the cold wet bush somewhere.

The temperature in the hut dips during the night and it takes a little while to get warm.  I think it's time to put away the light weight bag.  It's about 2.5 degrees before I rise in the morning so still a bit of margin.

Saturday

If the weather is too foul the plan has me either twiddling thumbs in the hut or heading back to the valley to potter up to Atiwhakatu and around the Jumbo circuit the next day.  The weather looks wet and windy but not too bad so I rug up before heading out a little before 8.  It doesn't look like there will be any views today.

There's snow and ice on the ground which thickens as I head up.  However, the air temperature is above zero so it is rain that the Southerly throws against my cheek and the footing is secure with water beneath the light snow.  The runners are soon soaked through but although cold my feet are fine.  I head on up prepared to turn back if the weather deteriorates.

There's a survey trig at the top (1470m) and my intended route down is signposted (one side iced over) and easy to find.  Visibility is 50-100m and footing still quite secure so I'm comfortable to commit to the trip down over Isabella (1385) and on down to mid Waiohine hut (380m).

Dropping off the tops into the bush the greens are a rich verdant contrast to the white and black landscape above.  This band of vegetation in the Tararuas never fails to captivate; moss smothers the gnarled trunks and softens the ground into comfortable cushions and hummocks.

As expected the plummet down to Mid Waiohine hut is hot work and the first mouthful of water confirms that Powell hut most definitely has a fire.  Although surprising it's not unpleasant to have your water tasting like lapsang suchon.

The hut is a standard 6 bunker with a steel fire box.  It has a nice feel and today gives an opportunity to adjust kit under cover, have a bite to eat and leave a note in the log book before preparing to climb up the other side of the valley.  It's about 1030 when I slightly reluctantly close the door behind me.

The Waiohine river is up but not turbid, on a sunny day a swim would be irresistible. Pottering along one of the few flat spots for today I round a corner to see a couple of large stags about 10 metres away having a bit of a tussle with their antlers.  They amble off into the bush when I clap and I don't get a chance to count their points.   A few 100m from a deer stalkers hut is a little risky for them to be so engrossed in an argument I would have thought.

The wire bridge over the river is a signal that the climb up Aokaparangi (1354m) is about to start.  As expected it's a grind.  The track seems less travelled than the other side but is generally OK.  At some point the cloud layer closes about the spur and the wind picks up on my left shoulder and cheek. 

At the top there is (again) little to be seen.  There isn't much ice on the ground but the Southerly is pretty cold.  According to the map there are four high points to come, the last of which is my initial destination; Maungahuka.  Of course it isn't that easy to count them off.  It's all up and down and it's a bit hard to work out which is a marked peak and which isn't.

The Southerly piles through notches in the ridge and it's a question of just keeping going until the tarn at Maungahuka materialises, quickly followed by the hut.  A bit of a relief.

Although out of the wind, it is cold in the hut and as soon as I stop moving the body temperature starts to drop.  Being above the bushline (a bit below the top of Maungahuka at 1330m), there is no fire so if I stay here it will likely be in the sleeping bag for the next 18 hours before getting into freezing wet clothes.  There's some cell coverage so I text my intention to head down to Neill, fill in the log book (no visitors since last week) and head out the door at about 2:30.

All the fiddling about has left my hands bitterly cold and the Southerly is stinging.  It's not far to the top though and from there it will be a rapid dive for the bushline.  Sure enough, once going and off the main ridge I'm soon warm again.  It's a reminder though of how quickly the tops can become very inhospitable.  The wind is now on my right cheek.

With the cold weather and desire to keep moving I have not been eating as much as I should.  The trip down finds me moving slowly and requiring a lot more care to avoid slips.  It takes a lot longer than normal (including that additional little 100m climb over Concertina knob) and although the administration of a One Square Meal helps it is not quite sufficient as a pick me up.

After what seems a long time I check the altimeter: 650m, not too bad only about 300m to go.  After another good wee while I check again; still 650m, a closer check shows the setting has changed to the alarm.  The altimeter is in fact 725m.  Bugger.
 
Eventually a view up the Hector River opens with steep hillsides disappearing into cloud and soon after, a swift descent to the swing bridge giving a perfect view of the junction of Hector River and  Neill Creek (not so small today). 

It's a very tired and sore tramper that limps off the bridge and into the hut.  At a little before 5pm the trip down has taken somewhat longer than the DOC estimate of 2 hours. The hut is dry, perfectly comfortable and well provisioned with dry fire wood and a firebox.

The fire does it's magic, warming the hut, drying clothes and heating water for a cup of tea.  There is no one else in for the evening and the sounds of the river are a constant background.  After the experiences of the day a fair amount of sustenance is in order so a dehy meal for two is demolished.

Sunday

After a good nights sleep it's 6am and not yet light when I decide to get up.  It's not a long day today but I would like to get out in time to do a visit (and maybe cadge a good lunch) in Carterton. Heating water for a brew provides warm water for the muesli as well as a cuppa.  Clothes are only slightly damp and it feels cool but not cold out so the coat and leggings go into the pack.  The hut is tidy and the door closed about 7.15 when enough light is filtering down into the valley to see under the canopy.

Tired muscles are not looking forward to the 600m climb which is the first action of the day.  There is however plenty of cause to pause on the way up as the day is clear and glimpses appear through the trees of sunlit slopes and an expanding vista of distant peaks.

Neill catches the attention initially but as the track rises the view opens through Neill saddle to False Spur with the dress circle behind.  I think I can recognise Alpha.  Behind, Concertina Knob gives way to a view beyond to Maungahuka and the distinctive jagged outline of the Tararua peaks.

 

Tararua Peaks

At the top there's a chance to text home before heading left along Cone and eventually down to Totara Flats hut.

Top of the morning's climb

On the way there is a view up the Waiohine valley, flanked by the main range and Aokaparangi with the spur that had taken some energy to ascend yesterday.  A couple of times along the ridge something large disappears into the bush as I approach.

Tararua range on the left, Mid Waiohine behind the near spur

There are no people but some sleeping bags at Totara Flats hut.  The log book shows there have been a few people staying and at least one party is also heading over to Holdsworth today. It's about 10am when I head off after them.

This is familiar territory now.  The pause in the middle of the swing bridge to look up and down river then a brisk pace up the start of Totara Creek. The track is very clearly undergoing some considerable maintenance efforts.  A short way up the creek a brand new swing bridge is taped off.  This suggests two things; they are cutting the track up the other side of the creek and there will have been no maintenance on this side.  Sure enough it's back to the familiar wash outs and bogs but still, quite pleasant going on a cool, sunny morning.

At the creek crossing before the climb to Pig Flat I catch up with a couple of women and boys.  These are the first people I've seen since Friday night.   We chat for a bit, I suspect they will not be enjoying the climb, however they have all day so I leave them to it.  I pass a chap on his way down then a party of three on the way up; it's getting quite crowded.

One of the parties note that although posted as closed the Gentle Annie is completely passable.  I'm a bit annoyed that DOC didn't a) put it on the web site as closed if it in fact needed to be and b) just close it when work is underway and warn people that it's a bit muddy the rest of the time.  You're more inclined to follow such advice if you think it is sensible.

As the track levels to the top it's a chance to pick up the pace and eventually to jog down the other side to the car park.  The track is now positively seething.  Some of the Duke of Edinburgh trip are heading up to Rocky Lookout and various singles and doubles are pottering up for the day.

It's about five hours after leaving Neill Forks hut that I reverse out of the park and head of for a much anticipated feed of something other than dehy or One Square Meals.

Gear notes

I was a bit worried about handling contacts in the bush but they are so much better than glasses on the tops.  I could have my balaclava over my nose and still see without getting steamed up glasses and the Southerly rendering one lens opaque.

The trail shoes were fine for grip and even though saturated pretty much all the time, my feet didn't get too cold, even in the light snow.  They were fantastically light compared to boots which made a big difference considering the amount of up and down.  One of my feet felt a bit bruised by the end and I had a small blister which I hadn't noticed.  On balance, if it's not in the snow and ice or a lot of boulders (where a stiff sole is helpful) I think they are a good light weight option.