One Kelleher weekend

With the remaining forest park spot heights now countable on one hand, the object of this weekend's exertions is hardly surprising.

I have two in my sights. Kelleher is a knob just beside the Main Range Track which I have passed, but never deviated onto the actual knob.  By my rules I can't count it because it is separated from the track by at least a contour line.  The other spot is south west of Kelleher - pt 870 is awkwardly perched on a spur halfway up (or down) the side of the Mid Otaki Valley.

The next problem is how to get to them in as interesting way as possible (in a weekend). I reluctantly decide that it will have to be Poads Road and the Te Araroa Track to Waiopehu Hut, from there I can leave the marked track and head along Oriwa Ridge to Oriwa before taking an interesting looking spur to the Mid Otaki River. This puts me at the bottom of the main spur for the long haul up to Kelleher. The Main Range Track then gives access to the top of the spur to pt 870 and back down to the river, which I'll follow down to the Waitewaewae forks.

I'm quite pleased with the route out that I've devised - it's as near as damn it a straight line from the Waitewaewae River to Mick then out via the Waitohu Stream - pleasingly aesthetic.

With daylight hours now somewhat curtailed it's going to be a challenge to get through and out by end of Sunday. So, a Friday night torchlight trip to Waiopehu Hut is in order.


What:     Navigation trip to a couple of spot heights
When:    3-5 May 2019
Where:   Waiopehu to Waitohu via Kelleher
Who:       Solo
Maps

In the scheme of things ...



Most of Saturday

Sunday

We almost beat the Friday night traffic up the Coast by leaving at 3.30. A quick stop in Otaki, for supplies and not so great burgers, then out to Poads Road.



At 6pm the sun has set and it's dead calm as I wave good-bye to the support crew. Headlight on, I head across the farmland, prompting startled honking from the odd paradise duck. The beam is a bit marginal (possibly something to do with leaving it in a damp raincoat at some point) but just enough.

As I start the slippery climb, the last of the evening light creates odd patches of texture in my peripheral vision. Moreporks start calling up valley and a goods train's rumble vibrates the air. Although coolish, it's still so I soon have a bit of sweat up.

I'm waiting to see the signpost where the 6 discs track heads left looming in my headlight - this will mark where the ridge levels for a longer more gentle climb. I haven't seen it when the track starts doing odd things. I'm still following orange triangles but the quality has deteriorated and there are no longer little reflective stickers. There's windfall and things get somewhat confused.

I know it's the wrong track but despite back tracking and casting about, can't find where I joined it. I sit down in the dark to sort things out; eventually setting a bearing and heading off in a hopefully sensible direction. Soon I see a reflective gleam and all is good again.

Not much else to say really, there's no moon but plenty of stars and I'm regretting the last few beers I had on Thursday night.  This may go some way to explaining why I have guzzled all my water and am completely parched by the time I reach the hut at 10.20pm.

Empty. I quickly settle down, only to be disturbed briefly by a possum or two thundering around on the deck. Popping out to send them on their way, I'm treated to the fairy lights of the towns strung across the black Manawatu Plains, shimmering with the distance.

I'm not in a hurry in the morning, so it's after 7 before I emerge to find I've missed dawn.  The sun is peeping between cloud banks and morning mist forms milky pools in the valleys. There's a cloud ceiling at around 1300m which looks settled so hopefully a cool day is in store.

Late dawn

Around 8.10am I'm heading up the track behind the hut. Where it tops out on Waiopehu there's a bit of a  foot trail that diverges right. I follow this down beside the scrub on the ridge until it eventually slips into a channel through the leather wood. There are intermittent pieces of orange tape which are easily lost when the ridge top widens but no hardship to just follow the compass.



South from Waiopehu to Oriwa - pt 1024 to left

Just before the top of Oriwa there's a clearing (marked on the map - 9.40am). A cup hanging on a tree marks where to veer left to reach a wee roof and water barrel. Across the clearing there's a large flat space in the trees where hunters camp (and leave their rubbish).

The water supply

Camping spot by Oriwa Clearing

I have never quite found the ideal way past the clearing - always managing to end up in bog, leatherwood or, today, an unpleasant combination of both. At 10am I'm at the top of Oriwa and texting the support crew to say that everything is on track.

Someone has left a pink ribbon to mark where the ridge continues from Oriwa - you can follow this all the way down to the Waitewaewae Forks - it used to be a track but I would classify it now as a classic 'off track' Tararua route.

My sights are set slightly closer to hand - the top of the spur I am after is reasonably clear and quickly confirmed with the altimeter (1050m).

There's a little bit of trail and it's good going, but there's a few points where attention to the compass pays off.  A more solid trail develops after I run into signs of DoC biosecurity activities.

It starts with blue triangles marking "Bird MO 22" and when I get to Bird MO 19 there's blue triangles leading off spur, a tracking tunnel and some sort of funnel for collecting falling stuff.

It's satisfying to ride the spur all the way to it's end. Just after 11.20 I pop out beside Murray Creek and pause to work out my next steps.

Murray Creek - delicious

It's only at this point that I realise that I'm just up river from the Mid Otaki Hut (not marked on the map) - only 300m and a perfect spot for lunch. 10 minutes later I'm strolling onto the flats keeping a weather eye out for someone that might be inclined to mistake me for a deer.

Mid Otaki Hut

The hut is a cheerful little two person prefab on a large flat by the river. It has double doors and is clean and light inside.  It's not marked on the map as it's a DoC biosecurity hut and probably not permanent. There's no log book, which surprises me (Island Forks Hut has one).

I chew on an early lunch (Camembert and fruit bread) and study the map. Last time through I was picking up spot heights along the valley including the foot of my next spur - the spur shape is pretty messy but I'm picking that there will be biodiversity trails on the lower parts, and probably an old tramping/hunting trail to the top.

And so it proves - I head off around 1200 and scramble to pt 595. Soon after the Bird MO markers from this morning appear and the number keeps counting down as I climb (I think 10 is the last one I see on the way up). There's also a couple of old school track markers but no other marking.

Towards the top (1.45pm) I pop out on a couple of rocky outcrops that give views up and down the Otaki Valley and across to Oriwa Ridge.  I can trace my route down from this morning.

Looking down Otaki Valley

Once out of the bush the spur climbs over a series of knobs to the top of Kelleher and views across the Park Valley (2.05). The highest peaks disappear into the cloud ceiling that has persisted all day.

South from Kelleher ... I think

The track drops off Kelleher and into goblin forest where it undulates along, taking an irritating long time to get to Nichols. I bump into a possible Canadian who turns out to be a late season NOBO (north bound Te Araroa walker). He has taken a break picking fruit in Motueka and is just going to pick off the best bits of the North Island before winter. I'm pleased to have a break so chat for a while.

At last I break out of the bush for the last scramble up to Nichols. By now I've decided that I don't fancy bivvying out on the spur down to the valley or trying to navigate off track in the dark. The sight of Nichols Hut tucked below the ridge clinches it. There's reception so I break the news to the support crew that I will be later out tomorrow than expected and head down to the hut. At 3.45 it's somewhat early to be knocking off.

Nichols Hut from Nichols 

As usual for this hut, the logbook has complaints about no firewood and the woodbin has no logs.

Unusually for this hut, I can see down the Waiohine past High Ridge and (I think) the Wairarapa in the distance. The tops are still hidden above the grey ceiling, but I can see more of the surrounding ridges and spurs then I think I have ever seen from here.

The hut is under 10 degrees so I don't hang about admiring the view but get into clean warm clothes and sit in my sleeping bag reading everything in the hut until it's time to make dinner.

With the cloud starting to blow in from the north west it's dark early and I settle in for a good long sleep. Around 8pm lights loom on the ceiling - I peer out to see a glow on the ridge. This resolves into three head lights marching down through clag to the hut. The headlights are attached to three women who clump into the hut. They are doing the SK Tops and have decided they are too far off the pace so are pulling the plug (this is the third 'not quite' attempt I have come across this year). 

Despite having walked all day they are full of energy and talk - I hardly get a word in edge wise.  They are clearly super fit and experienced in the outdoors. They keep the talk up as they munch through cold dehy and discuss options for getting out of the ranges. That's one of the problems with the SK - when you get to the point of bailing, you usually have some tricky decisions about the quickest route out, how to get a pick up, and what to do about your car that is now in the wrong place.

They quickly decide to exit via Waitewaewae and whirl out of the hut again like a mini tornado - except that tornadoes are unlikely to be inclined to talk about the etiquette of peeing in pack rafts.

Their torches and voices fade up to the ridge and I return to my slumbers.

I've set the alarm before 6 so it's dark when I get up.  I take my time to breakfast, tidy and pack before reluctantly pulling on slightly damp gear. Outside it is getting light enough to reveal clag with intermittent drizzle. This is Nichols as I remember it.

I add a layer and pull on balaclava and coat before heading out at 7am. The wind is up but not strong enough to coat my right lens with moisture. I follow the foot prints up the ridge and over the series of knobs to the 1320m contour, where I figure the track will show a bend and a bearing will take me to my spur. I certainly won't be seeing it in this muck.

The shape of the slope is obscured and the wind pushes drizzle directly into my face as I potter (stagger?) down into the grey nothing. I drift onto a false spur once and by following the compass land directly on the spur as it starts to take shape.

There is no problematic scrub zone and it's a relief to slip from the clag into the calm between gnarly, mossy trunks. There's pretty good ground trail although I don't note any old markers. The spur is pretty good to follow - there's a couple of points that are apparent on the map where you want to check the compass but it's generally good.

I'm wandering along when something white catches my eye ahead. My first thought is something man-made, as I get closer I have a random thought it might be part of a plane.

Closer still and another item comes into view - now I'm thinking it could be part of a helicopter.

I cast around and a short distance away there is the remains of a plane fuselage mashed against a tree. Beside it on the forest floor is a mangled seat and bits of plane are scattered across a wide area. Any thought that someone could survive such a crash are dispelled by the catastrophic forces evident in the shredded and dispersed debris.

It looks newer than any others I've seen and I guess it might be a plane from the 1970s. Given the location I'm pretty confident it is well known, but I hadn't heard about it before (not that I've looked). A quick internet search afterwards reveals it crashed in 1982 with three people killed.




As always, these sites set you thinking. The wreckage marks a real human tragedy, often involving the sudden, violent deaths of quite young aircrew (particularly in the war era crashes). Despite this, there's a sense of disconnection - this involved no-one I know. At best you're really just a tourist - at worst a voyeur. And the remnants are inevitably blurring and dissolving as moss, corrosion and the weather gradually obliterate the evidence - even the most resistant materials are slowly disappearing into the forest. It's hardly surprising then, that (with a few exceptions) there seems to be a tendency for trampers to be respectful of these places and not to interfere with them.

I look around the area for a while before taking a note of the altitude (probably close to accurate) and heading on down the spur - passing a few final pieces of debris on the way.

At 8.45 I'm at my second and last spot height for the weekend. The fourth to last on my list. It's every bit as remarkable as many other spot heights. It's also the point where I deviate from the line of the spur to follow a side spur that will take me slightly further down valley.

Fourth to last - three to go

There's not much trail now but it is still pretty good going and I successfully navigate down to the flat top at 520m before a sharper drop to the junction I have targeted.  It's 9.40 so, although time is still tight, I'm happy enough with progress.

The periodic drizzle has kept the river boulders slippery so I'm careful as I potter down valley. It's quite pleasant until I stumble across the evidence of a successful but brainless hunter. Half a deer is sitting in the river shallows with choice cuts removed and guts spilling into the water. The other half is a few metres down stream. So, if you know someone who was hunting in this area, with a .223, who left a carcass like that - tell them they're a twat.

In the interests of seeing new territory I follow the river bed all the way to Waitewaewae Forks instead of diverting onto the terraces on the true left at the appropriate point. The river immediately starts forming pools and deep sections by the banks so I have to cross frequently and have a few mid-drift wades. It's slower going than expected but I am at the forks by 11.40 so stop for a bite and study the map.

Waitewaewae Otaki Forks

I reckon it will be about 20 minutes up stream with four side streams to reach my target spur. It's always hard to tell though - was that an unmarked trickle or a marked small stream? The last stream has been shifting a lot of stones so is quite distinctive and seems to make sense against the map. I top up water and start the climb.

I don't really think it is a used route but it's ok going. After about 200m the compass confirms I am on the right spur and I settle in for the grind.  There's quite a bit of windfall. I disturb a deer on the way up - so far I have only heard them and I haven't heard any roaring. I wonder if it is the weather or if their habits have changed with the end of the roar.

The slope eases quite a way from the top, and it takes a long time to finally roll onto the ridge. I can't see a trail, but know that there is one to be found, so take a bearing and turn north (1.55).

The travel is a bit mucky. The trail comes and goes, there is a lot of regrowth and windfall, and areas of leatherwood to negotiate or bypass. I drop down the east slope to try to avoid the worst.

Once the marked clearings start there is a channel cut through the scrub, which is somewhat overgrown but still navigable. It's still claggy and drizzly and I'm not in the best frame of mind - I'm overly conscious of the clock ticking and a little nervous about navigating the western slopes in the dark.  I haven't been able to get cell phone reception to confirm progress.

These are perfect conditions for a mistake - and I'd hate to disappoint. The word "Mick" on the map partly occludes a knob on my ridge - I climb this knob thinking it is Mick and take a bearing north. There's a bit of ground trail and although I am surprised at the lack of markers I bowl off down discounting the fact that the slope is a little greater than expected.

Getting suspicious, I check the altimeter - 794. This should have flattened at 830. Bugger.

I suspect I know what has happened, but the occasional gap in the trees gives no clues - just more clag. Back on the knob I find a trail and am soon on the way to Mick proper, where I find a quite well marked trail doing exactly what it should be doing. Things speed up but it's getting noticeably dimmer and there's a long way to go yet.

I'm thinking ahead - I want to keep a pace that will get me a good distance before dark. But as I drop the clag will lighten and as the sun sets it will light the western foothills.

Near pt 860 there's a wee plastic plane hanging on a tree, indicating where my trail heads down. I lose it at the top but am soon on the steeply dropping spur and generally finding my way. As predicted it starts to get lighter.

I give a nod to the site of the Ventura bomber crash on the way past but do not divert to visit the distinctive wing. Soon the path joins an old logging trail and things speed up again. Although dryer, it is still steep and slippery in places, so the best I can manage is a cautious jog at times.

At the bottom it's a bit dim but the track drops into a series of grassy clearings near a stream. It's not that well marked and I end up following the Waitohu Stream for a while before joining a wide platform that follows and crosses the stream a couple of times. It's pretty boggy in patches but generally quick going. I settle in for a few Ks before another couple of Ks on the access road.

Coming over a rise I see a silver car a few hundred meters away - it's the support crew. She's found her way past the quarry and to the end of the access road (bottom of the spur to 309). Apparently there's five gates but the signs are all about being careful, and don't prevent access.

I'm mightily relieved to be chucking sopping kit into rubbish bags at 5.30 and a K and a half earlier than expected.

Postscript

An eventful weekend. The Friday night walk in was more tiring than expected - I reckon this set me up for the truncated Saturday. Getting to Oriwa is somewhat familiar now - it's a good 'off track' route. I was pretty pleased with the choice of the spur down - keep an eye on the compass and the shape of the spur - the trail is better further down with lots of blue DoC triangles at various points.

Mid-Otaki hut - never stayed there but I quite like the spot.

The spur up to Kelleher is an old route - a bit of windfall and no real marking - could be kinda tricky on the way down as the spur shape is a bit messy. Interesting at the top with the rocky outcrops, views and series of knobs up to Kelleher.

The Main Range is the Main Range. And Nichols Hut is Nichols Hut - just in the right spot for when I was running out of steam. The night time visitors were a gas.

The spur to 870? Well, it had a plane crash - that was unexpected. Surprisingly navigable at the top - some annoying windfall but a useful route to the valley floor.

The river is the river and should be treated with respect. It's worth knowing where to find the old trail, on the true left, if the flow is up at all.

I didn't enjoy the route out quite so much. But it is worth getting around this area as it us a useful access way and there a quite a few little byways.

Spot-heights - two more down and three to go. I have the exact trip in mind for the remainder but that will, I hope, be a story for another (not too distant) day.

Northern Tararua plan change

An optimistic plan and a dodgy weather forecast are usually a recipe for an eventful trip. 

With winter approaching and only 12 spot heights left, Easter provides the chance to make a serious dent.  I devise a route that takes in a cluster of spots in the leather woody north east, meanders along the tops and down the historic Haukura Ridge to visit one of the few 'lakes' in the range.  A promising looking spur then leads directly to an orphan spot beside the rejuvenated Cattle Ridge Hut. From here an interesting looking descent and climb by Bannister Basin to the tops to clean up some random spots down the main range.

About half of that is what in fact happened.

What:      Four day Tararua 'traverse'

Where:    Northern Tararuas

When:     Easter 2019

Who:       Solo

Map

What actually happened

Thursday - Ratapu and Ngapuketurua Stream

At 7am on a back road somewhere west of Eketahuna a ute pulls up and drops a tramper. Trying not to look too furtive, the figure nicks over a fence and disappears up a gully into the bush. 

The chosen spur turns out to have a reasonable trail showing occasional, not frequent use. Someone has used a handsaw to blaze the way. There's an old deer pen on the lower slopes moldering in to the bush and a couple of deer head off the side of the spur - not the last for the weekend.

I'm wearing a brand new 'don't-shoot-me-I'm-not-a-deer' reflective vest in honour of the roar, and in recognition that hunters are more frequent than trampers in this deer infested neck of the woods.

The ridge between Ngapuketurua Stream and the farm land to the east is notoriously scrubby. After a couple of sorties into the area there are a handful of spot-heights I want to pick off around the named point Ratapu.  The first, pt 669 is just to the north (a little south of Pohehe). I didn't quite get to it that time I was kicking around the top end of the ridge and swimming up the Mangahao River.

As expected there is no trail along the ridge and I waste some time in the leatherwood before dropping east to sidle - no noticeable trails but easier going than the tops. It's pretty much standard advice for this ridge - drop off the ridge to the east and you might find some easier going.

At 9.20 I've wormed back up through the scrub to pt 669.  I perch in the scrub for the obligatory selfie showing a hot face and a hazy day. One of the distinguishing features of this ridge is the ordered pastoral landscape spread just out of reach as you battle through hostile vegetation. 

  

Pt 669 - towards Pahiatua 

I take a lower line on the way back down the ridge to Ratapu, hooking up with the blazed trail again at the spur I came up. Ratapu is pretty unspectacular but the cloud is burning off and the day is warming up. To the west are the upper reaches of the scrubby ridges around Burn Hut and Taramea, below are some side spurs I explored on previous trips.  Ahead is more scrub.

Near Ratapu looking southish

Blazed trail

The ridge drops south of Ratapu and there's a clearing with a large cairn before pt 638 - this could mark another route up - if so it would be a good way to Ratapu (if you really must visit!).

Cairn between Ratapu and 638

Despite casting about I can't find a marked trail from the cairn so drift east and find my way along, occasionally seeing signs of previous traffic. About 1.30pm I'm on pt 715 and studying my exit west off the ridge to pt 728 on an island spur across a wee saddle.

North from 715

South from 715

I take a beeline for the saddle through the scrub off pt 715 which is a bit horrendous and eventually sees me scrambling across an erosion gully and into the saddle.  The smarter route would be a direct line into the saddle from the unnamed knob just south of 715.

At 2.20 I'm in low bush on pt 728 - time is not a factor as I will be camping by Ngapuketurua Stream and I can't imagine it will take long to get down there from here.

It's pretty good going just to the east of the spur, with just a short scrub bash over the top to take a line down to the junction of the side stream and Ngapuketurua.  I think the wee stream is called Weasel Creek - I've been through once before and brother number one mentions good hunting in the area.

At 3.30 I'm at the familiar junction with just a short jaunt up the river to my intended camp. En route I'm roared at by a stag and flush another two ahead of me.

Ngapuketurua/Weasel Creek(?) junction

Ngapuketurua has frequent terraces and flats and the map indicates possibilities at the bottom of the spur I intend to head up tomorrow. Polythene sheets and other rubbish indicate hunters have used the site - I find a nice little spot away from their detritus and by 5pm am setting up the fly
.

Grazed terrace opposite my camp

Before dinner I wander a short way up stream, partly to confirm I'm in the right spot, partly just to see a bit more of the stream. There's deer sign everywhere. It's easy travel and I still have dry boots by the time I get back to camp.

It's a quiet night with the Easter moon shining like a spot light through the trees. Tomorrow is a going to be a long day on the tops.

Friday Part One

At 7am the sun is creeping down the slopes but hasn't reached the valley. Hopes that there might be a trail up this spur are quickly dispelled - the going is good under the forest but no markers and just game trails. The transition from forest to low scrub involves an unpleasant stint through high scrub. Hanging off the true right of the spur works for a while but there is that inevitable grovel through entwined trunks shoving an uncooperative pack ahead.

Looking up spur - scrub

The day is blue and cloudless - it's going to be warm on the tops. Once the scrub thins there are a few trails and higher up a cairn indicates that someone has been down this way - possibly following a wee spur that branches off to head slightly upstream of mine.

Just before 9am I pop on to a wee plateau with a deer wallow - the first of many I'll be seeing on the tops. Every wee tarn or soft spot seems to have been churned into mud - there's going to be no water fit for drinking up here.

Muddy trails lead from the wallow and mark the easiest routes through the short band of scrub onto the top of the ridge.  The long ridge top route for the day meanders ahead to the horizon.

Last trip up here I spent rather too long trying to find a way off this broad ridge top in miserable weather. This time, the clear skies mean compass and map are redundant.

My next target is unmistakable - perched on the side of the ridge I somehow neglected to visit Conical Knob last time through. Unsurprisingly, it turns out to be a wee scrubby knob - I drop my pack and gird my loins for the battle.

Two things become rapidly apparent - it's a lot easy battling scrub without a multi-day pack, and the deer have smashed a high-way up.  I'm soon at the top to discover the view is exactly the same as at the bottom. It's 10am and plenty of day left.




Conical Knob

There's a few patches of deeper tussock and scrub but progress is mostly fairly easy. The day is well hot now though and I'm getting through my water.

The next milestone is Massey Knob where three ridge systems meet - right to Ngapuketura and the long ridge north towards Burn Hut, straight ahead is the way to the main range via East Peak. I've travelled this section once before on a loop trip from the Mangahao dams.

Massey Knob, ridge to Ngapuketurua to right

Infinity wallow near Massey Knob

At 11.20 there's plenty more tops to traverse to get to my exit point. The wind remains mild and the sky clear so it's pleasant pottering along with views west across the Camelbacks to the hazy Horowhenua Plains - and east over rolling farmland.

Feet, with Tawirikohukohu in background

At midday a cairn and post mark the top of the spur up to Kareti.  This is the start of the tops section of the historic, length of the Tararua traverse (the SK).  For reasons I won't go into it now starts further south.

If you know where to look, the site of the old Putara Hut is on the north side of the spur.

Kareti

The next named peak is Hines. Last time I sidled it, so this time I have to go over the top. On the way up I hear a stag roaring from just over the ridge - I pop my nose over and he's standing on a knob under 150m away. His testosterone fueled bellowing is directed into the valley below, but when I give a roar he turns and walks my way and shouts back. I keep out of sight and we roar at each other for a few minutes. He plonks himself down (I assume in a wallow) and I can see his antlers move as he continues to roar from a prone position.  I get bored and head to the top and stop for a bit of lunch. It's 1230.

Hines - Massey Knob in middle

Down Harris Creek, across Mangahao valley to Tawirikohukohu

West Peak and saddle from East Peak (obscured)

A little after 2pm I complete the haul up to Ruapae (1279). This is now well traveled country with Herepai Hut somewhere down the spur to the left and the foot pad to the Main Range leading on. I'll be sticking with it up to East Peak where I'll hive off down Haukura Ridge.

Haukura has dramatic erosion chutes and looks somewhat intimidating from this angle.

Haukura Ridge from Ruapae (East Peak on right)

The flanks of East Peak are a bit loose in places so I'm concentrating on my footing and head a little further up then needed  before bearing left over the shoulder of the ridge and starting the drop to the saddle.  There's a scree basin at the top of one of the erosion chutes that provides a good run across to the crest of the ridge in the saddle but it pays not to slip.

There's a bit of old trail visible as I clamber through the saddle and up the knob on the other side. The wind is starting to get up and at a little after 3pm the shadows are lengthening.

Friday Part Two and Saturday

On my only other sortie up here I was being smashed by the wind and had no visibility. I piece together my movements and remember how a groove in the ridge top looked like the start of a spur that I couldn't reconcile with the map. Today it is just a wrinkle which the deer have turned into a mud bath. 

Just short of pt 1322 I pop off the ridge top and out of the wind. It's 3.15 and I'm running out of daylight to reach the flats by the Ruamahanga.  Before I do that though I have to navigate Haukura Ridge via the saddle to pt 1127.

I'm sitting at the top of the scree slope deciding whether to follow the marked stream (original plan and I need water) or the ridgeline from last time which degenerated into a scrub bash. Suddenly a large stag breaks across the slope and thunders down and down, gradually disappearing from view. It's a bit demoralising as I trudge after it, taking minutes to traverse the distance it covered in seconds.




Haukura Ridge to pt 1127 (hill ahead on right)

The stream course is choked in leatherwood so I head down the steep ridge towards the saddle following the stag's tracks.

Haukura Biv used to be located near the stream just to the west of the saddle. I'm hoping there is the remnants of a trail which I expect to head right just above the saddle. Sure enough there is a wee cairn and a bit of a route jinks away from the worst of the leather wood that I grovelled through last time. This takes me almost to the stream course before I lose it.

I scramble down to the stream to find it bone dry. This is a bit of a blow - it was a strong prospect on the map and there's nothing else in the offing. I follow the course down to just below the saddle in the hope of a tributary - nada.

What would Bear Grylls do? Instead of weeing into my camel back or trying to wring moisture out of deer pellets, I dig a hole in the creek bed. The result is a hole, a pile of damp gravel and slightly bloody finger tips.  I try a little further along and this time break through a layer of soil under the creek bed to find clear water at the bottom of a 20cm hole. I drop my camel back tube down and drink my fill - it tastes fine.  No way to top my camel back up though.

The long dry day is taking its toll and it's a demoralising battle out of the leatherwood and into the saddle. Looking back I can't see where the biv was sited - there's a bit of a flat spot but it's covered in scrub now. I turn my back and start the 100m clamber through more scrub to pt 1127.

From 1127 - Cattle Ridge and Waingawa on horizon

The wind is strong now but the sky is still clear with the sun just dipping towards (probably) Dundas (5pm). The tussock captures the golden light as the shadows of the western range follow my path up out of the saddle.

I exchange messages with home command, check my headlight is near to hand and leave the last of the sunlight behind on the ridge top.

It's easy going to the bushline but I lose any trail soon after leaving the scrub behind. As the trees start to disappear into the gloom things aren't tallying up. Despite following compass bearings I am having to angle across slope more than I should to maintain direction. This suggests I am dropping further up river than I want - I'm not keen on having to negotiate a bluff or the river in the dark.

I keep going after breaking out the headlight and am pleased to eventually find a trickle to replenish water. I've given up on the map and just try to keep to a bearing with an eye on the altimeter.  The bush is tolerably open but it's not easy in the black.

A larger stream is going close to my direction so I follow it, but fatigue is starting to affect my coordination so I just pitch my biv on the first flat spot that emerges from the gloom.

I don't have energy to cook so just crawl into my bag and go to sleep chewing a piece of fruit bread.

In the morning I'm feeling more human and emerge, butterfly like from my little green Macpac bush cocoon. I find that I stumbled on the perfect wee camp spot - just before the stream plummets off the edge of a terrace.

I lie in my bag out of the biv eating a slow breakfast before packing up. Working last night backwards I reckon I miscued my first bearing from the bushline - either operator error (e.g. 90 degrees out by aligning across rather than up the map) or technical (e.g. stuck needle or holding the compass too close to a magnetic field from cell phone or PLB) - probably the former.

The first flat spot

Leaving at 7.50am I quickly discover I wasn't too far off route - I amble along a terrace, drop to a lower one and wander along that, before reaching the bottom. Somewhere ahead is the wee lake - soggy ground indicates when I'm close. Just over 10 minutes after setting out.

It's hardly dramatic but the geography of the Tararuas means that lakes are few, and small (I'm not counting the Mangahao Dams).  Witness the fuss about the 'earthquake lake', which turned out to be a pool on a river. Even the tarns have a tendency to be small and manky and easily mistaken for deer wallows.

The Lake

The Lake (again)

Despite it's uniqueness, the marrow is soon sucked from the lake and I leave it to its own devices. I follow the sound of the river and find a way off the terrace and up stream to a suitable crossing spot. 

With dry boots this calls for crocs and rolled trousers.

It's a steep scramble onto the spur where I am quickly disabused of any hopes of a trail. I can't see that people come this way although there's plenty of deer sign - a roar drifts down from above to emphasise the point. It's steep but generally ok going.

Across to 1127 and Haukura Ridge

It's a hot day again but there's cloud threatening from the west. I don't see much of the day for a start - it's mostly full canopy. Towards where the bushline is marked on the map I start hanging left off the face of the spur in higher bush - this seems to work for a while but eventually there's the devil's own grovel to break through the scrub.

The old maps show that a route joined this spur towards the top.  I do find an old cairn but any trail seems to have long grown over. I can sometimes imagine that I'm following something but it soon fades and I find myself climbing out of the bowels of yet another leatherwood copse. In retrospect the only tips I would give are:

1. try to stay in the low stuff which seems to be more on the true left (north) of the spur
2. near the top there is some bare rock patches to the north - get onto these as early as you can
3. don't bother - use the track



Roaring Stag Lodge catches a patch of sun among the scudding cloud shadows.  It's about 700m metres straight down from here. I need little excuse to rest in the scrub to contemplate the wee red dot in the dark green forest.

Roaring Stag - a dot by the river

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The weather cometh

At the top I mentally tick off pt 1170 - it's starting to get cold with the wind up and more cloud spilling across from the west. At 11.30 it's been a slow trip up.  I find a way through the vegetation along the ridge to the first DoC marker I've seen all trip and down to the hut.

By 12.15 I've settled into the refurbished Cattle Ridge Hut and am demolishing the hut reading material.  The hut used to be a dilapidated, drafty relic which DoC was set to remove. It is now cleanly painted, weather tight with a wood burner and a lovely little built-in foyer. They still have the old map on the wall which shows Haukura Biv which I can assure you is very long gone.

It's three years ago that I came through here while doing the Dundas circuit - the refurbishment had just started and it's great to see what a success it has been.

Around mid afternoon the door rattles and a party of four are blown in. The first through the door is Aimee from work - she's on a WTMC trip that has pulled the plug on an Easter SK. They've decided the weather forecast is not conducive with the tops travel required to get to Kaitoke so are doing the Dundas circuit instead.

They bring stories from Dundas Hut of parties turning up in the dark and camping outside, a party of three heading this way possibly followed by a party of two with an injured ankle, and someone else that headed south along the tops that they thought was a little rash (I heard later that said person thought they were a little soft - an interesting case study in the relativity of risk perception).

The WTMC group have a brew up then head off down the hill for Roaring Stag Hut.

Next, a group of three women bowl in. They've been pushed around by the wind and found parts of the track a bit of a challenge. They confirm the WTMC story and that they saw the injured party following them.

The last couple turn up just on dark - she has a swollen ankle but is getting along ok. We are now 6 for a 5 berth hut and he is happy to take the foyer floor in preference to being in a hot hut.

It's not often that I share a full hut, so all those little noises that people make at night are a bit distracting. However, it's the buffeting the hut is taking from the wind that keeps sleep at bay. The clag breaks to the east every now and then enough for the full moon to poke through.

I'm first up and making breakfast, the others are just heading down to Roaring Stag or the road end so don't need to be in a hurry. Overnight I've decided that with gale force winds and heavy rain forecast it's probably not the best time to be heading across uncharted territory and up onto the Bannister Crossing.

It's disappointing but there's an interesting looking spur running down to Arete Forks that I think I might check out. Those other spots will have to keep for another trip.

I rug up, make my farewells and at 8am set off to poke my nose over the ridge to see if Plan B is a goer.

Cattle Ridge Hut obscured down to right

By the flat top of Pukeroa I have already shed balaclava and gloves and decided that my decision making has been somewhat conservative. Although it is mostly clagged in, the wind is merely strongish and a little damp. I contemplate going back to Plan A but know that in a few hours and a few Ks to the west it could be a little late for regrets.

Cattle Ridge is mostly easy going but has a wee notch to negotiate. I remember coming through in running shoes previously and finding them not great protection from the Spiky Spaniard that is common around here.

There's a bit of ground trail if you keep your eyes open and even the odd cairn - quite tolerable 'off track' travel.

The notch looking south

The notch looking north

The tussock is getting wet from the clag - and therefore, so too are trousers and boots. I meander along happily in the gloom occasionally glancing at the compass. It's never quite the way you remember it with some sharper edged ridge as well as the broad tops I remember.

Around 10am a cairn and pole emerge from the mist confirming the top of the spur from Cow Saddle. This would be a quick way to the road end but, oddly, the thought doesn't even cross my mind. I must be enjoying myself. Ahead is the high point for the day - Waingawa.

At 1020 I hunker in the tussock on Waingawa and send a message before dropping off the ridge and out of cell reception. I vaguely remember a trip report of someone finding a route down a spur around here, there's an obvious one on the map to Arete Forks and I have seen other references to exit routes in the vicinity.

Things go exactly to plan. A short drop to a wee saddle (1370m) past Waingawa then onto a knob where I take a bearing and plummet leftwards off the ridge into the clag. There is definitely some ground trail. As I descend the cloud thins. At about 1200m there's a wee spur off to the left to ignore and below again an orange triangle marks where to drop right into a wee erosion gully that meanders down through the scrub - permalat markers start turning up. From here on there's a good trail cut through the scrub. The spur flattens and drops gently for a while through open scrub before finally depositing me into mossy forest.

A bit of wind fall makes it tricky to follow the trail in places but I keep with it before finally losing it at the bottom. The biggest hassle is that everything is lethally slippery. At the bottom I follow my nose to the river edge and drop off a low bank just down from Arete Forks. Across the river an orange hut can be glimpsed through the trees. It's 11.40.

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The hut is at the forks of the Arete Stream and the Waingawa River. The catchment is ringed by ridges with some of the highest and most rugged peaks in the ranges. North: Bannister Crossing, south: Table Ridge, west: Tarn Ridge, and north west: Arete. The Waingawa shows signs of dramatic flows with a log strewn terrace just up from the hut.

Hut bagging has never been my thing and, on the face of it, this is just another orange, tin, six bunker. The presence of a hut is generally a bit of an incentive not to visit an area and, together with the reputation of the sidle track for being an unpleasant slog, I didn't think I would ever bother coming through here. However, I realise that this is some sort of milestone - the last of the official Tararua huts that I have visited.  I have, by accident, bagged them all.

At a whim, I fire up the billy and sacrifice a mangled pack of soup that has survived a good few trips. I expected it to be a dank wee hole but, although the clearing is a bit of a mess, I imagine this would be a lovely wee spot on a sunny day.  The hills don't hem it in nearly as much as the map might suggest. And on reflection, there's some historic and informal routes you can explore around here, so there's very good reason to visit and I should have done so earlier.

Flats on the upper Waingawa River

Now for the infamous sidle track - the worst in the Tararuas by many accounts. The hut log doesn't say much although someone notes taking 4 hours. It's 12.25 and periodically a patch of drizzle drifts through.

It starts with a sharp climb then wanders in and out and up and down. Being on a steep slope it is prone to erosion and is generally narrow and scrambly. There is frequent windfall and the state of the markers indicate that it hasn't been officially maintained in a long time (many markers have fallen along with the branches that have rotted away under them). The most irritating thing about it is the frequent times when you can't see the next marker (I am of the unreasonable and unsporting view that if a track is marked on a map it should be marked well enough for an idiot not to get lost).

That said - the bush is pretty and there are delightful sections that meander over mossy tree roots in an altogether pleasant manner. I find myself smiling in between cursing the lack of the next marker.

It's a somewhat strenuous route, with Arete Forks Hut at about 670m, the track bounces around between 700m and a bit over 800m with a final drop of 300m to Cow Creek Hut at 500m.

After about 2 hours 40 I come to an old sign that says three hours to Arete Forks or upwards to Table Ridge. For me it's all downhill to Cow Creek Hut.

A column of smoke indicates habitation when I stumble on the hut clearing at 3.20. I've made up my mind to keep going to the road end despite aching muscles and the near certainty of running out of daylight.

On entering the hut my resolution is confirmed - the inside is like a sauna although the four gentleman who have been ensconced all day are mercifully fully clothed. The fire is going and they are enjoying a rain day. There's a bed available if I want it and they offer me soup. Very hospitable but I'm not tempted - I mark the log book and head for the swing bridge.

Cow Creek Hut

I've been through here a few times but never actually taken the track up to the top of Blue Range from here. What with a heavy pack and a longish few days my pace uphill is gastropodial. I plod upwards pausing frequently and ignoring the altimeter. The patchy light wanes and there are patches of light rain.

At the junction to Blue Range Hut (5.50) I give up and stop to crack out the torch, have a bite and cadge a pick-up.  I could stay at Blue Range Hut but have it in mind to be out tonight, even if it means sleeping in the lunch shelter at the road end. However, brother number one is once more obliging and good naturedly agrees to the drive despite a long damp day fencing.

The head torch is a bit sulky and requires some cajoling to throw out more than a feeble beam. It makes for a careful trip down but the track is generally pretty good. A fresh tree fall at the bottom has me casting about a bit but at last it's the easy amble along the old tram track with moreporks calling in the dark.

At 7.05pm I'm at the car park and have a few minutes to find my least offensive clothes for the ride home. Everything else is confined to a rubbish bag in the back of the ute while a thermos of hot soup rapidly evaporates.

Postscript

This was mainly a spot height trip, but the change of plan curtailed that somewhat. I polished off all the remaining northern ones, but there are now about five awkwardly scattered spots around the middle of the range. They'll take at least two trips to deal to.

Otherwise, it was a trip of many parts - Ngapuketurua remains the scrubby, hunter and pest infested backwater with difficult access. However, I retain a perverse soft spot for the area - there are more little byways than you would think and it pays to do a bit of research.

The tops through to Ruapae don't get a lot of traffic but are interesting and rewarding - particularly on a clear day. There are good access routes and there are very bad access routes. Again, it's worth talking to someone that's explored the area.

Haukura Ridge is a historic route but parts are getting tricky to navigate. Take warning from my water problem, as the stream can't be relied on. The steep ridge down to the saddle is fine. Just above the saddle it runs into thick leatherwood with no route I could discern last time. On balance, I think it might be a little easier to follow the old route to the area just below the saddle then find your way back onto the saddle from there. A marginal call though. The climb to 1127 does not seem to be well traveled and is just a matter of finding your way.

There is an old route down to the flats from 1127 but I missed it at the bushline - I suspect this is probably not a bad route - even off line and in the dark the bush was navigable.

The lake may be small and boggy, but it is a lake and therefore of note and should be on your Tararua bucket list.

Some old maps indicate a route up the spur to Cattle Ridge Hut. The bush sections are ok although steep. The scrub section you're on your own - you may be lucky and find an easier route than I did.

The spur from Waingawa to Arete Forks is a good option and just requires keeping your eyes open. The permalat marking is probably better than some of DoC's local examples. Which brings me to the sidle track - not as bad as it's cracked up to be, just a bit neglected and misunderstood. A working party to replace missing markers and clear windfall would improve it immeasurably.

Gear - more holes in my scrub trousers. My old Macpac Torre is slightly too big even for multi-day trips - I'd forgotten how much harder it is to scrub bash with a large pack. I took a fly and a Macpac bush cocoon with the idea of combining them if needed. I used both separately but it was probably not the best option as neither are brilliant in winter weather.

Oh, and I inadvertently became a hut bagger - dammit.