Tauherenikau - West Bank

Between the long straight Marchant Ridge and the long straight Tauherenikau River 800 odd metres below, there's a south east facing valley wall. A couple of marked tracks plummet from the ridge (Block XVI and Omega) and there's a marked but fairly rough track down the true right - but most people hare along the ridge or valley bottom and pay little attention to the bits in between.  Ripe for a bit of an explore I reckon.

The weather forecast is wet and cold but not badly wet and cold so a good time to be fossicking around below the tops and (mostly) out of the rivers.  Rather than a random wander, the idea is to chart an efficient route and navigate to each of six spot heights marked on the Topo map.
 
What:  Navigation trip
Who:    Solo
Where: SE side of Marchant Ridge
When:   Weekend 2 September 2017
Why:     Nav practice - pick up some spot heights in interesting looking territory
Map:    

There's one van in the Kaitoke road end carpark, and one set of footprints in the mud heading up hill.  It's 0710, grey and drizzly - not likely that many others will be venturing out.

On the way up to Marchant ridge I pop off the track a couple of times to investigate some spot heights. 529 is hidden amidst pines, regenerating natives and some long overgrown vehicle tracks. 539 proves to be in a scrubby clearing with a broad flat top and probably reasonable access down to Dobson stream below, for those of a mind.

The track is muddy and slippery and the owner of the foot prints hasn't come this way. Climbing up to Marchant Ridge there is a lot of tree fall. It gets colder with altitude but fortunately not windy. There are no views to be had in the clag.

539 - moving on, nothing to see

Marchant Ridge is generally not talked about fondly - 'uphill in both directions' being the commonest reference. It's nice bush though and on a good day there are views spots. Today I'm paying more attention to the map as I need to find the right point to drop off and find my spur.

I get to the general area with a bit of reliance on the altimeter and take a bearing off track. This leads over lumpy mossy forest floor on the shoulders of 1060 and eventually safely down to where my spur forms - a little below the top necessitating some faith in the compass bearing.

It's a nicely turned spur that shadows the true right of the Omega Stream.  There are a couple of slightly tricky navigating moments on the way down but generally travel is good. There's a bit of ground trail but, judging by the amount of sign, probably more from deer than people.

The top of the spur is beautiful and mossy with occasional open patches. On a long flattish section approaching 853 a harsh screech and chatter announces a kaka in a nearby tree - it's my closest brush with them so far in the Tararuas. There's a reply from another tree and a bit of interchange before they both fly SE down valley.

The rest of the trip down is good apart from the steep lower slopes where the spur shape is less obvious.  At the bottom I find myself at the top of a scarp on the edge of an old terrace. There's a goat track down but a stumble at an inopportune time is a reminder to pay better attention to my footing - I reach the bottom safely but with some bruises as a memento.

So far so good. The next part of the plan is to head up valley then follow a spur up to pt 614 and return to the valley floor further up river via another spur.  There is precisely very little to be seen at 614, but time for a pause and a bite while I work the compass to pick up the slightly unformed spur down. The bush here is more mature then in some recent trips to the western part of the range - much nicer.

Back beside the river I can't find a track but the flats are easy travel and I pick up spot height 332 - or at least as near as makes no difference as it was pretty nondescript territory. 

With the tree fall and slightly slow navigation it's taken a little longer than expected but all according to plan.  The next stop is the foot of the Bull Mound track to see if my tree from a previous trip is still spanning the river.  Much to my delight it is, and as stable as ever - the river is a little high for my liking and this means I can walk (gingerly) across and stay the night in a comfortable hut rather than in a very small tent (aka the 'body bag') in the rain.

I pop up to Cone hut to make a note in the log book then head down river to Tutuwai hut for the night.  The going on the formed track is a lot quicker albeit very muddy.

It's about half past four and around 9 hours in the wet and cold so I'm thinking it's wishful thinking when I catch the tang of woodsmoke in the air some distance from the hut. It turns out to be real - Quaid is already in residence with a good fire going.  He's the owner of the foot prints this morning having come over the Puffer saddle with his dog and rifle. He's been ensconced for a good couple of hours.  With dry clothes I'm soon warming up by the fire.

We sit and chat for a bit - he's interested in where I've seen animal sign in my travels and I'm reminded how little I know about the behaviour of game animals. A thump from the varandah heralds two more trampers arrived from Kaitoke. A couple of Lower Hutt lads - proudly from NaeNae College (some years ago). They've brought in plenty of wine which they are happy to share while Quaid is content to polish off the tail end of a bottle of bourbon that some hunters had left him when they left by helicopter earlier in the day.

We sit around by candlelight (also left by the hunters) and yarn until after 10 - very late for a tramping night.

The next day is more of the same weatherwise.  I'm first out and head down valley - popping off the track regularly to see if there are any fordable sections of river.  I have a go at one point with the aid of a cut manuka pole someone has left, but get half way across and decide that at thigh deep and getting deeper the river is stronger than it looks and a strategic retreat is indicated.

I resign myself to travelling all the way down to the swing bridge and returning up river along the marked track on the true right.  It's pretty rough in places with some slips to work around and somewhat sporadic marking.  There are a lot of boggy sections and in one place I wander off track and find an old clearing with an ancient kettle and enamel pot. There's plenty of fresh pig sign on the flats.

I'm counting the streams to work out which ones are marked and which ones are just trickles swollen by rain. I'm pretty confident that I've reached Blue Rock Stream and cross to take a spur which rises sharply and steeply. Spot height 546, is also nondescript so I take a bearing and head off to follow another spur down - again mostly on animal trails. This deposits me on target near the mouth of Kotukutuku Stream.

There's still time left in the day so I head down river with the intention of reaching one last spot height for the day.  Crossing Boulder stream I miss the bottom of the spur so end up scrambling up a precipitous face to get onto the more gently shelving spur.  This climbs to a point where a very old cairn indicates people have been through before, although you wouldn't guess from the lack of ground trail. The spur drops to a saddle then climbs to a broad flat top.  It's cathedral like with magnificent old trees and a wide flat forest floor. It's also tricky to navigate - as I return from pt 586 I have to retrace my steps and start again when I'm a little too casual with my bearings and miss the saddle.

Back at the cairn I take a different spur down again. I'm not too fussed about sticking to it so just follow my nose and end up dropping down a very steep side spur to a bog among regrowth. A meandering course to avoid the supple jack eventually sees me back on the track.

The trip out is uneventful - foot prints on the track indicate that my hut companions are ahead and I meet one other tramper coming in.  It's another 9 hour day when I get to the car park a bit after 4.  A couple of cars are there including someone waiting for some runners coming through from Holdsworth.  Good on them - I'm off home for a good feed and a well earned sleep.

Kaitoke Waterworks to Mt Dick

Each week my list of must-visit-places seems to get longer, so the chance to string a few of them together can't be passed up. This weekend I'm planning to knock off four and still have time for dinner in Martinborough.

The candidates lined up are: the ridge running east above Phillips Stream from the Kaitoke Waterworks, the spur north from Marchant Ridge (1038) down to the Eastern Hutt River, the spur from Eastern Hutt River up to Alpha Hut, and finally the winding ridgelines from Waiohine Bridge to Mt Dick.

What:    Convoluted route to Carterton

Why:     Nav practice

Where:  Kaitoke, Marchant, Eastern Hutt, Bull Mound, Waiohine, Mt Dick

Who:     Solo

When:   4 February 2017

Map:     Map

At half past six the long suffering support crew has nobly foregone a warm bed to drop me at the Kaitoke Waterworks info shelter. She watches me trot off across the field towards the hills and heads home - no doubt thinking that the next thing she'll be hearing is a PLB call out for a broken leg in a creek somewhere.

I take the short route up the clay 4WD road. It climbs steeply for about half an hour to the top of the Norbet Track, where I start looking out for any signs of a route leading east along the ridge. I don't know if there is one but it looks like there should be.  There are some nice views back over the morning sun on the hills though.

Rearing to go

Kaitoke water works tucked below somewhere - Ridge track in the mid-ground

A few minutes after Norbert Track the road disappears into a tunnel of trees. About 20m in I think I can see a faint track on my right, and on a closer look there's some plastic tape on a tree. This works for me - I take a bearing from the map and duck in between the spindly trunks. There must have been a burn sometime in the past as the trees are spindly and close growing, but recolonising nicely.

Start of the ridge route - honestly!

It's quite a gentle ridgeline and the route is pretty easy to follow with intermittent markers. There are a few points where I follow off on a dud trail but it is quickly detected and sorted in each case. Occasionally there's an opening giving a view towards Wellington or up Quoin and Marchant Ridges. The day is promising to be a stunner, although there's a bit of clag lurking in the west. Further along the ridge the bush is more mature than I expect, and consequently quite good to walk through.

Quoin Ridge

Across Kaitoke to the Hutt Valley

Parts of the ridge are fairly wide and flat and it's easy to wander off line, including at 630 where I am starting to bowl off a spur into Phillips Stream, before realising I've missed the line to the next saddle. At 8.50am I'm in that saddle, where I leave the marked route to drop down a short slope into Phillips Stream and the foot of Marchant Ridge. I can't see any tracks up the ridge but the bush is fairly open and it's not a hard scramble up. A bit of a trail develops further up.

Before long the bush gives way to scrub (I assume the edge of the old burn) and more spectacular views. I have an unrivaled angle on the route I took a few weeks back from the Puffer Saddle, along the Pylon Track, and down a spur to Smith's Creek. Further along there is a similar perspective of the tricky spur down from Tauherenikau from the same trip. You make the most of days like this, to build up a better mental model of these hills.  

Looking south from Marchant Ridge to the spurs above Smith's Creek and the Pylon Track

Spur running down from Tauherenikau

Initially the scrub is easy to navigate - there is always a route of low resistance to be found if you cast about. This doesn't last and it takes an awfully long time to struggle up to 967 and connect with the marked Ridge Track. There are animal tracks all over the place, but old logs and thick scrub seem to collaborate to frustrate progress. It's 10:40am when I finally break onto the track after almost 4 hours on the go.

Unnamed stream off Marchant

Marchant Ridge is easily familiar. I wander along glancing across to the Tauherenikau Ridge on the right and Quoin on the left. After the track enters the bush again I start looking for signs of a route to my spur. I don't see anything so eventually just take a bearing and strike across the flat topped ridge. It feels like I'm going nowhere in particular but eventually a spur starts to form. There's still no foot trail. Then I spot a wee bit of red insulation tape on a tree. There are very few markers on the way down but the spur is mostly pretty well formed - the foot trail not so much. Towards the bottom I'm pretty sure I've wandered off the old trail but don't have any problems working my way down to the stream.

About 1210 I cross the creek and head up the flats towards the river. The navigational challenge shifts - now I need to keep an eye on the rate of progress up river, count off the tributaries and keep an eye out for the specific junction that marks my next spur.

First view of the Eastern Hutt River

It's hot and sunny in the valley bottom, so it's not too much hardship to get wet feet with the frequent river crossings that are required. I have to admit that the thought crosses my mind as to how long it will be before some of the water that is flowing around and through my boots will be coming out of peoples' taps in Wellington.

Another side stream

The river is swift, clear and clean, and there is little sign that people travel this way, although the bush on the occasional terrace is easy to navigate. It's one of those places that is an undeniable pleasure to travel but you're happy not to camp as it would be so easily spoiled.

Despite mild concerns that I might miss the junction, after about an hours travel upstream it is pretty obvious. The side stream is sizable and it's easy to take a bearing on the line of the river. The spot is idyllic.

The junction

There's a dense wee copse of trees growing on the spit but a couple of meters up the main river there is an easy route into the bush. The spur starts immediately with a clear trail.

A couple of bugs locked in mortal combat catch my eye. They seem to be fighting to the death over a hole in the track. It's one of those little things that distracts you and I watch for quite a while until one is seen off, apparently none the worse for wear. The victor inspects the hole and peace is restored. However this isn't getting me any closer to the bushline 700m above.

I work my way up without seeing much in the way of markers. There are a few riflemans about and I hear the odd shining cuckoo. The shape of the spur comes and goes. A steep eroding creek appears on the left, so I follow it up for a bit but figure I need to be further across so head back around the spur.

The Tararua Footprints page records this route but is somewhat vague about the top, merely noting that a notch develops in the east of the spur towards the top and you work your way right and up. No indication of the elevation. 

There's a number of possible trails in the bush but in the end I find myself fighting up through steep scrubby bush eventually to emerge on the tops about 50 meters from the Southern Crossing Track. It's about 2 hours since I arrived at the junction far below, so not speedy progress. 

Marchant Ridge

This is the bushline on Alpha and today it marks the boundary between wind and clag in the west, and summer in the east. The spur I've come up is out of sight, as is the valley floor, but I can see Marchant Ridge in all it's glory and the line of the spur I came down. Five minutes later an empty Alpha Hut provides shelter from the wind.

I take a good long break to fill in the hut book, have a bite and drink, and a wee snooze with head down on the table. It's a good 40 minutes (3.50ish) before I'm underway again with coat on against the cool air.

This is one of the classic and well traveled Tararua tracks - it is wide and solid through open, mossy bush - and very pleasant walking as the clag drops behind and the sun comes through. A party of three I meet, shortly after leaving the hut, are the first people I've seen all day. We don't stop and chat, although I assume they are staying at Alpha for the night.

I'm sort of tired so the up hill bits are slowish, but fortunately there's a whole lot of down hill before Cone Hut. From the bottom of Hells Gate it's a short climb to the well marked junction to the Bull Mound Track.

Old school signs

The track is pretty flat at around 1100m and there are great views to be had. Of particular interest is a well shaped spur running from the Tauherenikau up into the clag; according to the map, all the way to the Beehives on the Southern Crossing. Another addition to the 'must do' list.

East from the Bull Mound Track. Clag on the main range and a very interesting ridge almost hidden towards the right

The tops along to Bull Mound have large patches of boggy herb land with scrubby margins. It's relatively dry today. Another interesting looking spur appears that runs north from Bull Mound and also slips onto the 'must do' list.

South from the Bull Mound Ridge

Emerging onto the final clearing, I surprise three deer about 100 m away they pause to check me out then slip into the bush.

Across towards Mt Reeves

There are a few final views down the Tauherenikau Valley before the bush closes over head and the afternoon sun is replaced with dappled light under beech. The track is good and it is only my protesting knees that slow the downhill progress.

It's unlikely that I will come across people heading up to Alpha at this time of day on this track, so I get quite a start when I blunder into two chaps sitting in the moss. They are intriguing specimens; their packs have things spilling out and hanging off and they are hardly dressed for tramping. The usual conversation elicits slightly odd responses - they don't seem to have a map and don't seem to have much idea about the terrain they are heading into. They are about 200m from the valley floor with 500m to go, yet have taken an hour to get this far and think they are near the top. They do however have a tent, and I make it very clear that they are likely to be needing it tonight. While we are talking another couple of chaps turn up - they are heading to Alpha and seem likely to make it. They are thinking of heading down Quoin Ridge tomorrow and ask a lot of questions, also exhibiting a bit less preparation than I would be comfortable with.

I find out that the river is up but that there is fallen tree that spans the torrent. This is a bit of a relief. When I reach the bottom just after 6.15 it is better than I could have hoped. The river is high enough that I would be thinking carefully about crossing but the fallen tree spans the river efficiently and right at the bottom of the track. It's solid and large - I clamber on and walk across, pausing briefly where there is a hand hold for a photo.

Natural bridge

Looking back at the bridge - log on left has come down the river

 Cone hut

Across the river is the helicopter pad then a short walk to Cone Hut, arriving at 6.25, just under 12 hours after leaving Kaitoke.  The place is like Victoria Station: there's a couple of trampers and two hunters staying for the night (the hunters are just heading out for an evening shoot) and another couple just passing through. I recognise Harriett and we exchange intentions. They are heading up to Alpha via Bull Mound so I can tell them about the other parties likely to be at the hut and the two chaps that are probably not. She is intending to come around to Hector and down Winchcombe/Neil to Walls Whare tomorrow. The trip in reverse that saw two trampers die on the tops not so long back.

I grab a bunk and shortly after a party of three from Tararua Tramping Club turn up. They are planning a fascinating route tomorrow - up to Hells Gate, drop into the upper Tauherenikau  catchment and follow the tortuous river route back to the hut. I am frankly envious but wouldn't do it on my own. They are rightly concerned about the height of the river but have some bale out options.

Another party of four turns up but take one look at the numbers and keep on going to Tutawai.

The TTC party put up tents on the flats but socialise at the hut so there is ample chance to share notes about various routes and trips. While we are talking two more people turn up. It's the two chaps from up the hill. They are not having a great time - reading between the lines I suspect that they had not made it much further up the hill when Harriett found them and probably was pretty direct in advising that they should back track. They are pretty confused about their intentions so I suggest they pitch camp and re-evaluate in the morning. They shamble off to do just that.

In due course the hunters return and there's good amount of yarning to be had into the evening. The only fly in the ointment is that there are two dogs in a very small hut that night - I bite my tongue but seriously - it's almost as antisocial as smoking. It's a fairly disrupted sleep but warm and still.

The hunters stayed up with a few drinks and don't seem to be keen on a dawn shoot so I am first up. Over breakfast there is one of those moments that high lights a hunter/tramper difference; they notice my penny stove and compare the weight to their large bench-top primus. At a guess, their kit all up weighs three times mine.

The two chaps turn up intending to leave a whole bundle of gear before they walk out - even their tent. They are sick of their heavy packs and just want to be home. They don't get the response they expect - the chap from the hut chews them out about even thinking about leaving food and rubbish that no-one will eat, will attract rats, and will have to be carried out by someone else. I feel sorry for them - with a bit of advice they would have chosen a more doable route, carried more sensible kit and had a great time. I doubt they will be back in the bush again or have nice things to say about trampers - the interaction was pretty unproductive. As the chaps wife points out: 'They're just going to dump it all in the bush around the corner.'

Meanwhile, the hunters are thinking of heading up river - I suggest the down river true right flats might be a better prospect and easier travel. They head off and before long a shot echoes up the valley.

It's a leisurely 8.10am when I head out. This is a much traveled route - today it's 8.41 where the ridge route heads south towards Reeves and 9.37 at the Waiohine Bridge. On the way two couples and two singles pass on their way in. Busy.


Waiohine road end to Mt Dick

At the Waiohine Road end I intend to head into the bush, then up the spur on the true right of Fern Stream (Map). This is the stream that you can see as a waterfall from the bridge - my route crosses it on the terrace to reach the spur. I wander around to find a way into the bush, thrash around in supple jack, stumble across the water supply source and finally cross the stream onto the spur.

It's steep and scrambly. There is a little bit of trail and a very old barbed wire fence. The map shows that the spur flattens at 290m but it doesn't. I start to get a bit suspicious, but up is good, so carry on.

 Barbed wire fence going through a beech tree

Top of the spur

When the spur finally starts leveling out I stop to sweat and study the map and compass. Sure enough - I soon work out that I crossed one tributary of the stream and headed up a different spur. This just means a slightly different start on the route to Mt Dick. The going is hot but not too bad up to 545 by 11am.  There are signs of nearby pine plantation and a wee clearing at the top.

I take a bearing and head NE along the ridge. People have been this way and the ridge is well defined - it's pretty straight forward getting through to 632 - 45 minutes later (and back on my planned route). It's a little hard working out where the top is, and I can't see a ground trail turning off, but with a bit of compass and map work I find a way down into the saddle then climb up to 582 (1225). The ground trail is a bit stronger now.  I text my position thinking that it won't be long now and confirm that the support team are on their way.

The evocatively named 582

Holy Totara!

The ground trail is solid and the ridge top flat. I trot along until the track breaks out of the bush and I can finally see Mt Dick - it doesn't look right - it appears that I have overshot. I back track, and recheck the map, compass and altimeter. It's one of those moments when things just won't tally and I can't get a view that provides a clue. I sit down and consider the information available. Eventually
I conclude that I'm wrong about Mt Dick and rebacktrack (?). The compass and altimeter say I'm on track but my brain isn't convinced. The track starts a descent that could be into the correct saddle or off the wrong spur. Ah well - let's see where this goes.

The track suddenly pops into a clearing in the saddle and onto an old bulldozed track (shown on the topo map). It is wide, reasonably clear of scrub and takes a gentle angle upwards to drop me on a gravel road corner shortly after 1.30.

I call the support team who turn out to be up the road a bit but the road is completely blocked off. The map clearly marks where to access the ridge network on a corner a short way past (and below) Mt Dick - but it is not accessible by car beyond Mt Dick.

Sunny day in the Wairarapa

The support team wave from above the road block

Hot and bothered but no longer geographically confused

It took something under four hours to get through from the Waiohine Road end to Mt Dick. There was some quite good ground trail but also a number of places where a bit of navigation was required. A usefully challenging little route and a salient reminder about paying attention.

After all that there's plenty of time for a spruce up, late lunch, lots of hydration then a very good dinner at Pinocchio's in Martinborough.

SK Valleys

A few years back someone rather carelessly told me about a traditional challenge of 'doing' the length of the Tararuas in the space of a weekend. They should have had more care - the idea lodged and it was pretty much inevitable that at some point I would have a go. Without going into all the details, it is called the 'SK', or the Schormanns - Kaitoke, after the start and finish points. The Schormanns Track no longer exists so you leave from the nearby Putara Road end, but somehow 'PK' has not caught on - shame, it has a bit of a ring to it.

There are a couple of main options and lots of variations - the Valleys route is easier and more direct. The tops is longer and, not surprisingly, more exposed with considerably more up and down. Records exist for assisted and solo efforts, and the times being posted now are superhuman.

When I say 'easier' the Valley SK is still a small matter of 74km and a net climb of a little under 3400m.  I'm not chasing a record though - I'd just like to get the idea out of my head.

What:   SK Valleys
Where:  P to K
Why:     Because it'll bug me until I've done it
Who:     Solo, unassisted
When:   10 December 2016
Map:     Map

Preparation

With regular trips over recent months my fitness is at a suitable level and gear all well tested. The trip is on marked tracks, apart from a section at the start down the Ruamahanga River. I don't like rivers at the best of times, so checked it out a couple of weeks back. I've been over almost all the rest of it at some time, although it's been a while for some parts, and I'm not looking forward to scrambling around slips on the Tauherenikau (the subject of a long standing DoC warning).

On Wednesday I figure I've recovered from the previous weekend's exertions but the forecast is marginal - the story of this summer so far. The Ruamahanga River gauge drops gently over the next few days though, so at midday on Friday I decide it's a goer.

The plan is to start early Saturday morning, see how the day goes, and either soldier on into the night or sleep at one of the huts en route. I have a weekender hut pack (i.e. sleeping bag, no tent, warm layers, food, emergency gear) which means more weight but also more peace of mind. All up weight (with water) is 6.7 kg.

I complete the usual intentions sheet and send it to my PLB contacts with outlines of various contingency options.

The route

The original SKs involved trains, rail cars and taxis to get from Wellington to the track end on a Friday night after work. In the grand tradition I intend to catch the Wairarapa train, but then to spend the night in Carterton for a comfortable sleep and a drop off at the track end by an understanding brother.

The route follows the major river systems in turn as they run parallel to the length of the Tararuas in the east of the range, before each exits into the Wairarapa to join the Ruamahanga. This means a series of saddles and rivers, with huts around the more popular areas. It also provides regular milestones to mark progress: 6 saddles, 5 river systems (not counting the Mangatainoka) and 7 huts.

The final act is climbing up Smith Creek to Puffer Saddle and the long sidle and descent to the new (to me) road end at Kaitoke.

Kick off

At about 0515 it is dim in the bush but more than enough light to not need a torch. The clouds are gathered and threatening in the west, but it's not cold. The track along the stream and up to the junction is familiar territory.

Record shot - 0517

The junction (right to the Main Range, left to Roaring Stag) after 0:52 is my first saddle and at 1:40 Roaring Stag is my first hut (score: 1,1,0). The wind is strong in the tree tops - the sort where you get a little jumpy at creaks and cracks from overhead.

There's no-one in Roaring Stag as I fill in the log book, pause briefly, and checkout the river. Probably half a metre lower than two weeks back so it is looking good not to use the terraces (the high route that avoids the gorge section at Cleft Creek).

First sunlight creeping down one of the many slips

It's much easier travel down river this time. I hardly use the terraces, and boulder hop most of the way to the bluffs, about 0:45 min after leaving Roaring Stag. It's still deep, and I can't touch the bottom in places through the bluffs, but a lot less of a proposition than last time.

Looking back up through the bluff section -
deep on the true right but navigable by holding onto the rock

0:20 min later the gorge above Cleft Creek is unmistakable. The river runs onto the right bank forming a deep section against the rocky side. It's no drama to cross upstream in thigh deep water with just a little help from a koro stick.

Start of the gorge above Cleft Creek

The other side provides bouldery travel and a short scramble along a rock face opposite Cleft Creek. The river broadens and slows and another thigh deep crossing is easily accomplished. The track is on the right somewhere up on a terrace; I potter down stream a short distance to find a way to scramble up. Three hours after leaving the carpark I'm standing on the track (1,1,1).

Cleft Creek

Gorge above Cleft Creek

River below Cleft Creek

The first thing that is apparent is that a track team has been through - ferns, grasses and saplings have been cleaned off at ground level and markers have been added - fairly recently by the look of it.

The track climbs alongside then joins Cleft Creek and I am soon standing at the stream junction, which two weeks ago took 2:26 from Stag Hut with the river up and using the terraces route. This time, using the river route and the new track, it has taken 1:38.

Bear right but keep an eye on the markers because the track soon takes a new route

The next surprise is that the track takes a completely different route to the saddle. Instead of following a side stream, it dives into the bush and grunts straight up a spur. Eventually it bears right and sidles and rises for a long while to eventually hit the junction in the saddle, right beside the sign post to Waingawa. I'm stunned - I had stood at this point two weeks ago and saw no sign of this track.

However, right now I'm a little more focused on ticking off the top of the second saddle. It's 09:06, about 3:50 in, score: 2,1,1.

It's a short hop down to wade across the Waingawa and arrive at Cow Creek Hut 18 minutes later (2,2,1).

Cow Creek Hut

The track is now a fairly typical Tararua River track. It potters along in the bush, on grassy flats, across slips and in and out of side streams.

About 1:50 later the rather elegant Mitre Flats Hut hoves into view (2,3,1). The weather is still holding.

Mitre Flats 

I don't have fond memories of the Barton Track that climbs to the next saddle. It is pretty much as I remember: a bit of a climb up, a long sidle with a wee descent, then a drop into a creek, and a bit of a mucky scramble out and up again. I'm also starting to feel the distance already traveled. It is nice however to get to the intersection with Baldy Track and join the track I traveled last week (12:54, 7:37 elapsed, score: 3,3,2).

Descending from the saddle, heavy drops start pattering through the canopy, and by Atiwhakatu Stream the rain has set in. It's warm enough though, so I don't bother with a jacket. Between the two routes up to Jumbo I meet my first people - a group of three women who are following the old track up to Jumbo. We chat briefly but I can't tell them much about that route.

40 min from the saddle Atiwhakatu Hut (3,4,2) and I'm chatting to a couple who are just leaving having come in for a day walk. After filling in the log book, I take a bit of time for lunch out of the rain. I'm thinking now about when dark will become a factor. It's looking good to get through Cone Saddle which I hadn't fancied doing at night (it's years since I've been up through there).

The track now is a veritable highway and familiar from last week. It is also crowded as I run into a couple more parties and pass the couple from earlier.

Leaving the Atiwhakatu Stream (3,4,3) and climbing the River Ridge I start feeling a bit under the weather. Consequently it's a slow ascent. I figure I haven't been getting enough energy in, and focus on slowly nibbling through bars despite not feeling like eating. Voices ahead indicate I've reached Pig Flat. This is the route to Powell Hut and Mt Holdsworth but, more importantly, another saddle (4,4,3). It's 9:50 on the go now.

The Totara Creek Track is new territory. Last time I traveled in this direction it followed down the creek. Now it stays on the ridge above, then drops down a spur to cross on a solid swing bridge. The track is well bedded in now. This part of the trip should be quick going but I'm still making somewhat heavy weather of it and concentrate on just ticking along.

Totara Flats Hut is pumping when I arrive at 4:50 (4,5,3). It's hard finding a space to sit and drip and fill in the log book. A tourist kindly offers me some gourmet chocolate, and is understandably a little nonplussed that I am intending to leave a perfectly good hut at this time of day and in this weather.

The grass on Totara Flats is carrying as much water as it can hold and consequently deposits cascades of it as I brush through. A pause for the customary gaze across to the location of Sayers Hut - no-one to be seen but there's a waft of wood smoke in the trees almost indistinguishable from the mist. A little further on, a distinctive tang on the breeze removes any doubt.

A 'new' bridge has improved access to Cone Saddle Track. I remember a trip with school mates when Makaka Creek was a torrent and we sensibly turned back for an extra night at the old Totara Flats Hut. While we were there Greame Dingle came through with a bunch of hard youngsters and a camera crew. Later we heard a helicopter go over and I think the story goes that someone got swept away in a river crossing - not fatally fortunately.

Cone Saddle - camera in bag because of rain

I plod up Cone Saddle and meet a party of young women doing a trip for their Duke of Ed, together with adult chaperons. They are off to Totara Flats.

My memories of Cone Saddle is of a false top followed by a long sidle then a final wee 'up' to the saddle. I'm downright slow now and it takes ages to get through the sidle. Two creeks are significantly up but still quite passable.

At the saddle it's 7:28 and still light, but I arrived at Totara Flats Hut 2:40 ago so it has been slow. Still, 5,5,4 feels like progress.

21 minutes later I take a break at Cone Hut (5,6,4). There's a chap from the Rotorua Tramping Club in residence. He has come down from Alpha but spent the day in the hut. He has plenty of time, no firm plans and - hell, why flounder around in the wet when you don't need to!

I take a good wee time to drip on the floor, don jacket (it's not so warm now), fill in the log book, chat and ... yep, basically farf about and avoid getting back out there.

With head torch ready in pocket I eventually drag myself away. By now I have pretty much resolved that I may as well see this through, so there's a long evening walking ahead.

The Tauherenikau is making itself heard today. It's considerably up and you would not contemplate crossing to the Bull Mound Track. I am slightly concerned that I will hit a creek that is impassible somewhere down river.

Just before 9pm the very last of the light sees me to Tutuwai Hut: 5,7,4 and 15:40 on the go. A couple have a tent on the flats - he is in the hut and is tossing up whether to sleep out or in. The rain has finally abated so I switch on my light, top up my water and head on into the night.

It's hard to gauge progress in the dark. The only thing that provides information about the world beyond my torch light is the roar of the river. I know there are some slips to scramble around and the track does potter along and up and down - at one point there's a knotted rope but there's not much to indicate what's in the blackness below - very comforting!

I see numerous possums; ghostly in the light - twin pin prick eyes that look, disappear, then look again before heading up the nearest tree. A couple of times larger animals slip off into the undergrowth. When the track bears away from the river the odd Morepork can be heard. Otherwise I follow the tunnel through the trees and try to watch for markers and my footing at the same time until suddenly, I'm trying to make sense of what turns out to be a swing bridge support.

This is a major milestone. There have been no real navigational difficulties or impassable streams. I find out later that the rain had hardly touched the Wairarapa so the streams on my side of the river had hardly received anything whereas the Tauherenikau had had an ample dump in its head waters.

The interminable meander down river is now reduced to less than two km to Smith's Creek on a gentle track then the final climb to the final saddle. I don't even notice the shelter as I head past.

I confess to disliking this part - it can never be over fast enough. Smith's Creek represents the worst of accessibility, with the shelter often filthy and abused. The clay track beyond the saddle is lethal in running shoes and there's gorse among the scrub. Not good reasons to be so down on it - it's more likely to be something to do with usually being pretty much buggered by the time I get to this point and just wanting the pain to stop.

Picking my time I pop a gel tube with the idea that it will have well kicked in by the time I start up the wee climb to the saddle. Along the way there is a long standing bypass around a slip which I ignore - the route through is perfectly serviceable, even at night. Then the long drag up the valley, hanging out for the last stream crossing, which marks the short climb then sidle to the saddle: 6,7,5 - it's after midnight and, at last, I have run out of numbers.

There's cell reception now so I wake the long suffering support crew from her slumbers and she very gamely agrees to meet me at the road end. I'm somewhat surprised that it is quite a distance down to the new carpark by the entrance to Kiwi Ranch so she arrives only 10 minutes or so after me.

In the end, according to the time stamp on my start and finish photos, it took 19 hours and 43 minutes from P to K. Nice to finally get that out of my head - just the Tops version to do now. But not in one go I think.

Lessons

There's a few things that I would do differently when I don't ever do this again ...

My food choices were somewhat random; an assortment of bars, some emergency gels and can of sardines. I had enough but the bars proved to be a bit rich and hard to get down when I was feeling the pinch. Definitely need a little more thought.

A nasty case of chaff that had me walking like a cowboy for the next few days could have been prevented - tights are great for cool weather travel but do tend to rub a bit.

There are plenty of escape routes - I should have committed and not carried the extra weight of a sleeping bag and one of the extra layers.

I had a bit of a scrape on my forearm from last week and was a bit concerned about ripping the scab off and getting it infected. A telfa pad with a sleeve made from a nitrile glove with the fingers cut off to keep it in place worked brilliantly.

I was pretty stiff and sore for the next few days with the normal odd bruises, numb toes and the like, also a few wee spots where friction from clothing or pack straps had rubbed the skin off. Nothing that a bit more fitness and care wouldn't prevent. I also developed an interesting facial rash that could have been chloracne but for the absence of dioxin. It took a few days to clear - probably not shingles - possibly a heat rash, but seems a bit weird.

Running shoes were good and light but were lethally slippery on wet roots and rocks. Surprisingly I only got a couple of wee blisters but by the end it felt like someone had taken a rattan cane to my feet. I think I need something with a more aggressive tread, a bit of an instep and slightly more rigid sole.