Eric (Duggan) had just handed in his honours thesis. Time for him to celebrate before knuckling down for exams. What to do? Vic. Ski Club lodge at Whakapapa, where he could stay for free due to helping on work parties, for some telemarking and climbing. Dan (Batten) and I arranged to meet him on the Saturday at the ski club. The two of us drove up on Friday night and called in to the Whakapapa tavern and bumped into Eric. Left after a short time and parked outside the public shelter. Spent a reasonable night on the tables inside the shelter, although our sleep was rudely interrupted; first by a TTC snow caving group and then by Jonathan Clarke and Matt Quirke. We got up early so Dan could move the vehicle to a legal parking spot for the day.
We headed up to Vic Ski Lodge to find a very unwell looking Eric – virally induced and nothing to do with alcohol. His dose of the flu was so bad that he had been unable to ski on the Friday, so he was obviously pretty sick. We decided to head up onto Pinnacle ridge for a look and Eric took his skis. Crampons were put on near the bottom of the ridge, Eric wearing the club’s “Stubai alpine trekker” crampons on his Scarpa terminator telemark boots, while Dan and I used more orthodox gear.
The crest of Pinnacle ridge was soon reached and we decided to walk along it, thinking that the Grand Pinnacle didn’t look too intimidating after all. We traversed high on the side of the ridge until we got to a section which looked pretty steep. We were only carrying four tools between the three of us and couldn’t be bothered getting the rope out but decided to have a look anyway. I went over and had a play and realised that it was only about 70 degrees and quite soft. It was possible to cut a hand hold with the adze of the axe, move the axe up, move hand to hand hold, cut a new hand hold ….. and in the end it was only a scramble. From here I headed up some easy mixed ground to the top. I sat here for a while, feeling on top of the world and enjoying the sensations that come with being in such a place.
Soon afterwards I turned around to see Eric clambering up, still carrying his skis. We took a couple of snaps and ventured down. Then it was back along the ridge where Eric managed to get in a few turns – it had been worth carrying the planks after all. We dropped off the ridge for lunch then headed up broken leg gully to investigate the steeper stuff on the sides. Ended up just going for a bit of a walk until we reached backstage where Eric decided to ski again. Dan and I watched as he rolled executing a turn, and kept on rolling, eventually ending in a tangled mess which Dan walked over to help sort out.
Noted that there was a bit of ice around and then headed back down – Eric to the ski club and Dan and I to the homely public shelter. The next day we again met up with Eric and were told we couldn’t have a free ride up on the lifts so walked up the waterfall lift, across and past the NZAC hut and over to Delta ridge where we decided some bouldering was in order.
Initially we toproped some very easy plods to get into the swing of things and then we decided to see how well our crampons worked on rock. We all had a great work-out and even found some water ice to play on. Dan decided to lead a climb but forgot to place any pro so was effectively soloing. Eric pushed his gear to its limits, the broad points of the alpine trekkers were seen on delicate rock holds on more than one occasion. I enjoyed bouldering around, mixed climbing when you are never more than 10 metres off the ground and on the healthy side of vertical (with nice escape routes) is what mountaineering is all about – NOT.
Back to Wellington for uni etc with memories from the weekend clouding lectures and work. The photos of our exploits are great memory refreshers and I am convinced that this sort of thing should be done more often.
I was avoiding my thesis again. I’d been doing it all year. Any excuse was good, but the best involved me not being in Wellington. If I wasn’t in Wellington I couldn’t use my computer and therefore couldn’t write anything. I heard that Caroline, Melinda, Jeremy were planning to go up Ngauruhoe (well they had planned to go canyoning down Chamberlain Creek in the Tararuas but Ngauruhoe was probably drier). Considering that there are few power outlets on the top of mountains I figured I’d have no chance of plugging my computer in and could, therefore, do no work. The simple beauty of my logic impressed me. I asked if I could come and climb the mountain with them, they said yes, I had a quick pang of guilt “Oh no I won’t be able to work on my thesis”, got over it, and away we went.
We headed up north on Friday night. In addition to the afore mentioned three and myself there were two NZAC members, Matt and Dianne, and Chris Fitz (my faithful old retainer [author ducks and waits for the proverbial to start flying when Mr. Fitz reads this]. The weather was fairly ordinary, light drizzle but not much wind. We camped near National Park ready for our assault on the mountain the next day.
The day dawned claggy. We quickly decided to do something else. After breaking camp (crash, bang, boom, ow, you rotten swine…) we headed to National Park and the DOC visitor centre. We looked around and had no inspiration so I suggested coffee and breakfast at the nice little café across the road. After two flat whites and a toasted BLT I was in much better shape and the group decided to do a short walk into the Taranaki falls. It was a nice way to spend a few hours, we wandered along chatting away and saw the nice waterfall. We played games, follow the leader and spot the tourist were popular, and generally had a good time.
We returned to the visitor centre and had lunch on the porch while to tourists filed past and looked at us as if we were slightly odd in the head and we looked at them wondering what sort of idiot would wear jeans in the bush, or on the Volcanic Plateau for that matter. After lunch we decided that the hot pools at Tokaanu sounded good so it was to the Bat Mobiles and into nice warm water. After soaking away our aches and pains we finally headed for Mangatepopo, and after getting the cars stored for the night at a local garage we headed in to camp for the night at the bottom of the Tongariro Saddle. Our camping spot was not strictly legal as you are supposed to camp at least 500m away from a great walk. The Tongariro Crossing is a great walk, and we were about 50m away from it. It was, however, a very nice spot and we had views to Mounts Tongariro, Ngauruhoe, and Taranaki just by turning around. After dinner we turned in early as there was some ridiculous suggestion that we get up at 2am to climb the mountain so we could be on the summit at dawn (bloody alpinists).
4am rolled around and we were all rudely awakened by Melinda and Matt who were getting very excited as we were two hours late! After what was loosely termed ‘breakfast’ we headed off. Melinda was jumping around like a dynamo spinning at the speed of light, the rest of us plodded up to the saddle wondering how much food colouring she had been eating (thinks: comments like that are unlikely to get you invited to dinner, foolish boy). At about 5am the light began to change and the whole landscape took on a very mystical feel. As we began our climb up the mountain the wind picked up until it became hard to stand. When we were quite near the summit we had a group conference to work out whether it was a good idea to continue. We decided to push on and from that point on the wind dropped a little and travel became easier. We reached the summit at about 7am (I’m not normally out of bed by seven) and had a good look around. The view had been getting better the higher we got and on the summit it was fantastic. Looking around we could see Ruapehu, Taupo, and Taranaki. I’m sure I could see Tarawera and White Island as well, but I’m not sure. After group photos we headed down. There was no snow on the mountain so we got to do a 600m scree slide. I had heaps of fun, there were a few patches of hard scree which was like walking on a floor covered in marbles but apart from those slightly scary bits it was a one way express elevator all the way down.
We were back at the bottom and having a real breakfast by 9 o’clock.
We had an interesting thing happen at this point. We had been watching
a continual stream of tourists wandering over the crossing (we could often
see over 30 people in the two kilometer stretch of the track we were watching)
when one of them broke off and marched purposefully in our direction. This
was bad. The only person who would be marching purposefully towards us
would be the warden from Mangatepopo hut. As I have mentioned before we
were camped slightly illegally and were expecting a bollocking and a court
summons. (Adrian breaks into barefaced lie mode). “Hi, how’s it going?”
she asks.
“Not too bad.” I reply (well not until you turned up at least)
“I’m just hear to tell you that you’re not really supposed to camp
hear because The Crossing is a Great Walk and you are not allowed to camp
within 500m of the track, you didn’t know that did you?”
[I leapt on the ‘out’ we had been given even though I knew that she
knew we knew about the 500m no camping rule.]
“Really? We had no idea about that rule, terribly sorry, we’ve just
been up Ngauruhoe and we’ll be gone after we’ve had breakfast.” I said
[Knowing full well that she knew I was lying through my teeth.
She was actually really good about the whole thing, asked us how the
climb was and what we were going to do with the rest of the day. I don’t
think she was all that worried about strict rule enforcement.
The weather turned nasty again after breakfast, we hung around Mangatepopo Hut for a while and then went and had a wee look at the crags near the hut. Melinda and Matt were racing around going ohhh, ahhhh, at all the bits of rock they could see (which wasn’t much really ‘cos it was really claggy). I sat down and communed with the mist and mountains, and the others headed down to the road end and arranged to pick up our transport.
The drive back was uneventful. We had dinner in Bulls and arrived back
in Wellington having done what we set out to do which is always cool.
Ngauruhoe is a neat mountain to climb (especially when there’s no snow
on it, I’m not an alpine climber yet) the view is well worth it but I still
think getting up at 4am is a bit extreme, even if it was the only clear
period all day.
The mountain climber type people were:
Melinda Short (Who like the Energiser Bunny keeps going and going
and going)
Caroline Duggan (Who leaps tall mountains in a single bound)
Jeremy Bray (Ditto and with feeling)
Chris Fitz (My faithful old retainer – cringe and duck)
Matt Stevens (NZAC mountain climber type)
Diane Drayton (NZAC mountain climber type)
Adrian Pike (He wot wrote this)
On November 3, Leigh Matheson and I left for our second “mid-week” tramp. These tramps came about because I had too much annual leave at work and had to use some of it or lose it. Knowing that Leigh had time off occasionally during the week because of her job I suggested that we go tramping together. Since each trip was 3 days long this gave us a chance to get to some out-of-the-way places, like bivs.
Our plan was to do a Maungahuka loop.
Being ultra organised and keen we opted for a torch-bash to Mid Waiohine hut on the Monday night. To get to Holdsworth extra quick we left Wellington at 4pm, ate pre-packed dinner in the car and started tramping not long after reaching the roadend.
Getting to Mid Waiohine that night was achievable, but the last time I’d dropped off Isobelle I’d found the descent long and steep, so I wasn’t looking forward to it. We were concerned about the wind on the tops too. Coming up to the first open part on the Gentle Annie track, where you get a view of Mt. Holdsworth if it’s not clagged in (as it was) we were blasted by wind. Leigh said “ We’re no going over the tops” and I wasn’t going to ague. So we just cruised to Powell hut for the night, getting to the empty hut just on dark.
Tuesday morning was still windy but not as bad. We set off for Maungahuka hut under heavy packs. I’m beginning to think that after 6 years my Torre has put on weight with increased age and could never be light if it tried.
A pleasant tramp over Holdsworth to Isobelle (eagerly awaiting construction of a swingbridge between the two!) and then down to Mid Waiohine. The track wasn’t as bad as I remembered, though I still didn’t want to have to climb back up it.
Lunch at Mid Waiohine, with lots of psyching-up talk for the climb up Aokaparangi. We even had a can of ‘V’ each in the hope of getting a useful sugar rush. Trundled on to the swingbridge, and there we had the first mutterings of piking. Well, I think we had contemplated staying at Mid Waiohine hut, as you do when you get to a hut in a nice place by a river, as that one is. But now we were thinking how we felt regarding the climb. We didn’t pike though as we had a reputation as hard tramping women to maintain. So we headed on up. About a quarter of the way up Leigh felt unwell and flakey. We discussed carrying on, but we may had trouble getting to Maungahuka and if we stayed at the biv and Leigh felt worse the next we would have to go back via Powell. We decided to abort the loop plan and return to the comforts of Mid Waiohine. We’d both done the loop before, and we were out to enjoy being in the bush and didn’t feel like we ‘had’ to do anything.
Back to Mid Waiohine hut, a lovely dinner and dessert wine.
Next day we set off for Aokap biv as a day trip. The idea was to do Aokap, then return, pack up and get to Powell hut for the night. However, just after the swingbridge, Leigh felt in pain so she decided it wasn’t wise for her to go on. She went back while I carried on up.
This was the first time I’d tramped by myself and I felt slightly nervous, but confident enough to give the navigation to the biv a go. Leigh had been there before and said that it wasn’t hard to find.
I had a good tramp up the hill – always much easier with a day pack – and got to the top in good time. It was claggy so I couldn’t see far ahead. Once I found the top, I took a bearing of the spur that the biv is on and started to follow it down. Finding 2 large cairns I took a bearing between them and turned out to be right on course for the biv.
Tramped rather cautiously downwards, making sure I was on the right bearing and watching the terrain. As it turned out there was a decent ground trail and a few cairns. Finally I came to a bit of a basin with some trees on the left. Going by my experience of where people site huts and bivs, I figured that Aokap biv must be around here somewhere. As I got closer to the trees I saw markers and a red t-shirt on a stick, which Leigh had said might still be there. This marked the bush entrance to the biv.
So another Tararua biv was bagged. Aokap biv is in relatively good condition although a night in it in rain wouldn’t be too pleasant. It is a bit damp. I was kind of glad we hadn’t carried on up the previous day as we may have had to stay in it. But that would have been an adventure in itself, and fun. It’s got a ‘biv-book’ dropped in there by Adrian Barr and his friend Grayson a couple of years ago. Indeed, a fair number of the entries (there aren’t that many) are either Adrian or Eric Duggan. So it was good to add another Vic name and draw the sheep.
I took some photos, had a brief lunch and set off again before I froze.
I had a time limit to get back as Leigh and I were going to walk over to Powell hut that night. Going down was great fun as I ran from the bush edge to the swingbridge. Aren’t day packs great?
Met Leigh outside the hut where she was wrapped up in a snow foam in the sun. She said she was feeling better and should be ok to walk out the next day instead. I could collapse instead of having to pack!
Another lovely evening in Mid Waiohine hut, this time with aromatherapy foot baths. We scrubbed out an old biscuit tin and filled it with hot water and essential oils. It leaked a bit but both one’s feet fitted in, it was bliss! Made the hut smell better than it probably ever will again.
Final morning. We slogged up Isobelle, Leigh leaving me for dead in spite of her sore back. The trig on Holdsworth was a welcome sight ‘cos it was all downhill from there. The weather improved as we went out (compulsory trait of Tararua weather) so we could look back to clear tops from Maungahuka to Crawford, across to Carkeek and beyond.
We popped briefly into Powell on the way past and discovered that a large group had been there the previous night. I’m glad we stayed put.
Passed a few people daywalking on the way down, otherwise it was pretty non-eventful. No epic bush bashing, no one fell of anything, no storms or alpine passes to negotiate (all that was yet to come, bring on Fiordland!). Got out and back to Wellington in time for Leigh to go to work, and for me to go out and spend way too much money at a Kathmandu sale. All in all a very enjoyable tramp.
On Boxing day Caroline and Jeremy dropped me off at Holdsworth at about 11:30am and I set off up the Atiwhakatu Stream. The weather was fine and hot as I made good time to the hut and then further up the stream and onto Pinnacle Saddle. From here it was a steep ascent to Baldy Bushline and then onto Baldy Peak and up onto South King.
The tops were clear and there were great views from the top of South King. I then headed south to Cairn Peak and finally onto the spur that drops away into Dorset Creek. This was Red Line and something I had wanted to do for a long time. There was a good ground trail through the tussock and a number of cairns indicating where the entrance into the bush was. Looking back up from the Bushline there were awesome views of the Broken Axe Pinnacles.
In the bush there was an easy to follow trail of orange tape that kept to the spur. At about 1100 m altitude the markings ended. There are two trees with orange tape around them and also a cairn on the ground. From here I followed a (true) north bearing spur all the way down to Dorset Creek with good travel and not much undergrowth. A cairn at the Creek marks where the spur intersects it. I then headed down stream and up the well marked spur to Dorset Ridge Hut.
The 27th was claggy weather so I spent the day in pit reading a book. It was good to be back at Dorset Ridge again. The 28th was shit weather as well and as I climbed up onto Dorset Ridge the clay got thicker. After a bit of an indiscretion I got onto the ridge proper and began the ascent up towards Girdlestone in increasingly stronger wind.
I popped into New Tarn Ridge and was surprised to see two people there. They were Tony Henry and Jason Christensen whose names I had seen a lot in logbooks. Also Tony Henry is into mountain running. They had just made a brew so I stayed for a hot drink and a bit of a yarn.
I eventually left at 12 PM and as I climbed onto Girdlestone I thought the winds not too bad. But as I descended on the way along the Eastern Range I was blown in all directions. The wind was really strong and going up Mid King I was blown in all directions. Just past Cairn Peak I dived off onto the eastern side of the range for a bite to eat out of the wind. The wind was really bad over McGregor as well and I had a bit of difficulty getting over it. Once past Angle Knob it was not too bad and eventually I reached Jumbo just under 4 hours after leaving New Tarn Ridge. Surprisingly no one was staying there and no one arrived that night.
The next morning I headed out in the rain to be picked up at Holdsworth at around 11 am. It was an enjoyable and relaxing tramp.
On Easter Monday, 1997, a party of three hardened criminals set off to purposely break the law and engage in a bit of illegal tramping. The destination for the day? Eastern Hutt hut.
We arrived at the carpark at the entrance to the Kaitoke Waterworks early enough to secure a carpark without being seen. It was then time to skulk across the open field darting between bits of cover one at a time in order to remain as camouflaged as possible. Once we hit the 4-wheel drive track we could relax, knowing we could only be spotted from the air. We headed up the road ready to dive into the scrub and gorse on the side at the sound of an engine approaching.
The weather was beautiful - hot, no wind, blue skies and I was suffering by the time the top of the road came around. But then came a long downhill in the shade. From the bottom of the road we had no problem picking the way - we just followed Eric through the bush. The route crosses the Eastern Hutt River by way of a three wire bridge and then sidles up and over a gorge section before hitting the river again. Here you can wander straight up the river bed (it was never more than knee deep) or if you are with someone who has the knack of picking/remembering where the track is you can criss cross the river finding the easiest route through the bush on either side.
We stopped for a break near a big tree in the middle of the river bed. I was quite keen on lying in the sun there and waiting for the others to come back but in the end the lure of a hut bag was just too much. Four hours after leaving the car we were approaching the river flats just before the hut when we heard the whirl of an approaching helicopter. Fearing an enemy attack, Eric and Jeremy dived for cover under a log in the middle of the river bed, gesturing for me to follow. I stood and laughed. All four us were wearing bright coloured clothing (Jeremy in red of all colours) and they expected us to be camouflaged under a log?
We were standing near the heli pad watching some hunters load their excessive amounts of gear into it when over wandered the fascist helicopter pilot. He was concerned that we were a party of lost trampers who had mistakenly wandered into the valley. We played along and the conversation went something like:
Pilot: What are you doing here? This area is closed. You are not allowed to be here.Like hell we were going to bash up onto Marchant Ridge and walk out to Kaitoke and then back along the road to the Regional Park entrance. So we walked back into the river and upstream a bit till the helicopter took off and then headed to the hut. We had nearly finished lunch when the helicopter returned, buzzing over the hut. This had us running out of the hut and into the bush for cover. When it had gone we took a few quick photos of the hut and left.
Eric / Jeremy: Oh? We thought we were.
Pilot: Where did you come from?
At this stage we decided to play like we were lost.
Eric: We wandered off the ridge.
Jeremy: And come down a stream.
Pilot: What ridge?
Eric: Up there somewhere.
Pilot: Well, you will have to leave and go back down Marchant Ridge to Kaitoke carpark.
Eric: Oh. Okay.
We walked out the way we came (if you work for DoC that reads: we walked out over Marchant Ridge) and were back at the cars 8 hours after leaving them. Its a great daytrip with a couple of grunty little climbs, lots of deep swimming holes and a scenic river system. The area is now open to the public but no overnight stays are allowed unless in an emergency.
The three hardened criminals were:
Eric Duggan (ringleader and muscle of the operation)
Jeremy Bray (brains and getaway car driver)
Caroline Duggan (token female and scribe)
Once again a trip into Carkeek, but this time I was taking in Bruce and Kerry Popplewell who were tramping club members in the late 50's, so they could join Lost Sheep Tours.
We left Holdsworth Lodge in hot weather on the afternoon of the 2nd of January 1998 at about 5 pm. It was an easy walk into Atiwhakatu and then up to Jumbo Hut before it got dark. Bruce and Kerry had their dog "Inka" with them and since there were people in the hut they slept outside in their tent.
The next day was fine again but windy as we left for Mcgregor Biv just after 7:30 am. After a stop at the biv we headed down the spur easily following it to where Dorset Creek enters the Waiohine River. It was then the pleasant trip up the Waiohine River to Park Forks and lunch. After lunch we climbed up Carkeek Ridge and it was good to be back in the goblin forest.
There was nobody else at Carkeek and we settled in for a comfortable evening at the best spot in the Tararuas.
Next morning was fine again as we headed up the ridge on the way to New Tarn Ridge Hut. However at the 2nd bump north of the hut the cloud was starting to roll in from the west so we dropped down into the Waiohine River and then up the spur onto Tarn Ridge. By the time we got onto Tarn Ridge it was quite windy and misty and it was good to get to the hut for lunch. After a long stop we went down to Dorset Ridge Hut for the night.
The next morning was misty and wet as we dropped below the hut down into Dorset Creek and then up onto the spur off Cairn Peak. At the bushline the wind wasn't too strong but once onto the flanks of South King it really picked up and we struggled over to Mid King and then off the side and down Mid King Spur. The rain then began to pick up and it was a wet bash through the leatherwood to the biv. I was pleased to see the last entry at the biv was from Adrian Barr, Terry X Patterson and I at the end of November.
That night on the mountain radio we heard a heavy rain warning for the Tararua's which had us worried about crossing Baldy Creek.
The next morning we were gone at 6:30 am but there was no rain and it was a pleasant trip down the spur. There were fresh blazes all the way and easy travel to South Mitre Stream. We soon reached Mitre Flats Hot and then along to Pinnacle Saddle and out along the Aalwhakatu back to Holdsworth Lodge.
The Rakaia River you say ? in November ?. You won't be crossing it, believe me. Not after several weeks of warm north westerlies adding to the snow melt which is already there.
On November 28 we flew down from Christchurch and were taken by Super Shuttle to the "Whaleback", just past Glenfalloch Station next to the Rakaia River. Our plan was to head up the Rakaia and across it to Whitcombe Pass. On the other side of the Alps we were then going to pop over to Prices Basin hut and then over the Lange Range to Ivory Lake hut. Then we were going to head down the Waitaha River to Harihari on the West Coast.
We set off in steady rain which wasn't to intense but was made up of large icy drops. Looking up the immense Rakaia valley all we could see was a wall of grey. The Rakaia River is completely different to any Tararua rivers, being glacier fed and a couple of kilometres wide and consisting of several braids. The water is discoloured by glacial sediment and moves extremely fast.
After several kilometres we decided to take a short cut across a stream feeding into the Rakaia and around a headland in the distance which the river cut into. Lake stream was only about 10 m wide but moving extremely fast and you couldn't see the bottom. so we decided to use a mutual crossing method. Dan and I went first with our arms behind each others backs and locked in by the packs and grasping the pack straps. Dan was the largest so he went up stream. Half way across the stream was quite swift but we managed to get across okay. The others went next with Steve upstream, Alexis in the middle and Dave down stream. We had our cameras ready for some photos when Dan and I realised they might need some help as Steve started to be swept off his feet. They were all off their feet but were n't going anywhere so Dan and I were able to help them out. It was only a small stream but the water was very fast and Steve's knee was cut up by the river gravel.
When we got to the headland around Prospect Hill we saw that the river cut into it too much and that was why there wasn't a track there. It started to piss down with rain and we spent several hours thrashing around in the bush as we had to sidle above the river until we rejoined the 4wd track on the other side off the hill. A little bit further down the track we came to several slips which had wiped out the track and we had to sidle above these through the bush and then back onto the track and down to Washbourne Creek.
It had been raining for quite a while now and the Creek consisted of about 5 or 6 channels which were all raging. After a while we found a route across it which involved inching into a channel with other people holding you and forming a human bridge to get to the other side and then repeating this with the next channel until we had crossed the entire Creek. We all put on our helmets and eventually got across safely.
On the other side of the creek was meant to be a hut and Steve climbed a tree to look for it. He soon saw it and we arrived at Thompsons Hut where we decided to stay for the night. It had a concrete floor and the roof leaked but it was shelter. That night on the mountain radio the Contact man told us he had waited for 5 days trying to cross the Rakaia but foolishly we thought this wouldn't happen to us.
The 29th of November dawned fine and we headed for Reisheck hut and then hopefully across the Rakaia to Louper Biv. The views up the valley were incredible with snow capped peaks and further up steep descending glaciers. It only took about 3 to 4 hours to get to Reisheck Hut and we were racing the weather all the way. Jagged stream was reasonably high but we crossed safely and basically the travel was fast along a 4wd track and the river bed.
We only spent a short time at Reisheck hut and raced across to the Rakaia to hopefully cross it. There was no way we were getting across though, even if we could see Louper Biv on the other side. The main channel was about 30 m wide and was surging with big standing waves up to several metres. We were chucking in large boulders and could not even hear them touch the bottom as they were swept away. We realised we were not crossing so went back to Reisheck Hut to wait and see if it would drop.
Reisheck was an immaculate 6 bunk hut which was looked after by the NZDA. It had an awesome fire with an oven which we managed to crank up to 500 degrees F as it had a thermometer. Steve wasn't happy until it was cranking at 500 and we soon had our clothes dry and could easily cook on it. The log book started in April 1976 and still had a lot of room in there. There were a few previous VUWTC entries including about 3 from Johnny Mulheron. One of the pages had a newspaper article about 4 trampers who had tried to cross the Rakaia here which resulted in 2 of them drowning as they were all swept off the feet. The river hadn't dropped much in the afternoon so we spent the night there.
The next day we got up and headed up the valley looking for somewhere to cross the river. It was just as swift upstream and we got back to the hut just as it started to piss down. It rained all day and soon some small side streams on the way to the main channel had flooded making it difficult to cross even them.
We got up on the 1st of December and packed up and headed back down stream looking for places to cross. We spent quite a few hours scouring the riverbanks looking for any suitable channels. Dan and Alexis decided to test how strong the water was and were only a 1/5 of the way across before they backed out because it was too strong. We realised there was no way we were crossing and got back on the track heading for Glenfalloch.
This time we followed the track round the back of Prospect Hill and didn't try to cut around the river side. We were crossing Lake Stream alot further up and it didn't look so bad. Dan and I were a bit further down stream from the others in the main channel which was only about 10 m wide. In the middle I felt the gravel being washed over my boots and was swept off my feet and then so was Dan. Luckily I jumped onto a gravel bar and the others came and hauled us out. If the side streams were going to knock us over there was no way we were crossing the Rakaia.
That night we were allowed to stay in the shearer's quarters at Glenfallloc and Super Shuttle took us back to Christchurch in the morning after Mountain Radio contacted them for us.
We were:
Eric Duggan (Scribe)
Dan Batten
Alexis Lambeck
Dave Hodson
Steve Yeoman
Recommend reading about the area is found in Sven Brabyn's book "Tramping In The South Island, Arthurs Pass to Mt Cook"
In 1996 the club celebrated it's 75th anniversary which largely went unnoticed. There was a trip into the old Alloway-Dickson hut site with some members from the late 50's which Dave Walker and I also went on but nothing else. In May this year I went on a trip into Carkeek with Adrian Barr, Mike Sheridan, Allan Stowell, Terry X Patterson, and Johnny Mulheron. Mike Sheridan suggested that a reunion dinner would be a good idea so when I got back to Wellington, Dave Hodson and I decided to organise one.
With the help of Tony Stephens and Melinda Short we sent out notices to ex-members about a planned dinner and Mike Sheridan contacted people from the 70's and 80's. We also got in contact with Bruce and Kerry Popplewell who were in the club in the late 50's. They put in a lot of work contacting people from the pre 70's.
It was all quite disorganised but gradually we started to amass replies from people and soon had thousands of dollars sitting in our flat. The dinner was in July at the Student Union Centre. A lot of people arrived early and helped put up photos to do with the club. We then had a feed and talks from Barney Butchers and Hugh Barr as well as an entertaining speech from our own president Dan.
The Dinner was a success and our smooth and in control accounting system showed us that about 150 people attended. Not bad for a hastily organised function although a lot of thanks has to go to Mike Sheridan and Bruce and Kerry Popperwell.
People at Club Reunion Dinner
| Adrian Barr
Alexis Lambeck Allen Clelland Anjali Pande Armer Alcorn Barbara Mitcalfe Barney Butchers Bernie Greig Bill Stephenson Bill Taylor Bohdan Syzmanik Brendan Mosely Brian Dawkins Brian Easton Bruce hIilburn Bruce Popplewell Bryan Sissons C. John Read Caroline Duggan Cat Mcbean Charlotte Bond Chris Fitzgerald Craig Duncan Cuc Nguyen Dale Cook Dan Batten Daphne John Dave Clelland Dave Hodson Dave Walker David Beaglehole David Henderson Derek Daniel Diane Dick Evans Dora Bagnall Doug Foy Dr. Geraldine McDonald Dr. Marshall Laird Eleanor Burton Eric Duggan Frank Coleman Geoff Todd GeoffDaniels |
Gilbert Johnstone
Graeme Claridge Greg Waldon Gwenda Martin Halsey Christian Heather Knox Hugh Barr Ian Armitage Ian Cave Janet Atkinson Janet Boutel Jenny Murray Jenny Visser Jeremy Bray John Atkinson John Black John Ross John Ryan John Thomson Johnny Mulheron Joyce Ross Judith Richards Julian Boorman K.J. McNaught Karen Brown Kerry Popplewell Lesley Bagnall Linda Daniel Linda Todd Majorie Munro Margaret Sissons Margaret Thompson Marilyn Bramley Mark Copeland Mary McDonald Mary Mowbran Matt Johnston Melinda Short Mike Cotstilinis Mike Edwards Mike Fee Mike Heenan Mike Judd Mike Sheridan |
Murray Corles
Nicky Wright Nigel Nils Elgar Olaf John Oliver Druce Peter Jenkins Peter Johansen Peter Murray Peter Radcliffe Phillip Laird Pip Piper Ray Knox Ray Perry Rebecca Rebekah Eayles Rob Hunter Russel Rawler Sally Sarah Devon Sarah Weston Sasha Calhoun Simon Leicester Sonny Mulheron Steve Fuller Steve Yeoman Steven Thompson Stewart Scoones Sue Ensor Syd Moore Terry Waghorn Terry X Patterson Thora Blith Tim Stern Tom Clarkson Trevor Mowbran Valerie Alcorn Vera Johnston Vivien Wyne Viviene Radcliffe Wendy Cave York Young |
On the Sunday after the reunion dinner Allan Clelland organised a day trip to Hutt Forks in the newly opened water catchment area. I left Wellington in Julian's car along with Dave and Melinda and we were about an hour late.
We parked at the water works and headed up the 4WD track over to the Eastern Hutt River. Julian and I decided to run over and left Dave and Melinda to follow in after us. It was a good run over the hill and down the other side and we meet the main group just before the river. Now that it was legal to tramp here some signs had been put up and a bit of a track laid.
We went down to the river and followed it down to Hutt Forks. Being winter the water was freezing and I was glad when Mike Sheridan got a fire going at the forks. After a brief lunch we headed back and met up with Dave and Melinda 5 minutes short of the forks. We all then went back over the track with some group photos on the way and everyone yarning about what the club used to be like. It was an excellent follow up to the dinner and was good to hear some more stories about what the club used to be like and what it got up to.
People on tramp:
Eric Duggan
Julian Boorman
Dave Hodson
Melinda Short
Mike Sheridan
Rob Hunter
Dave Clelland
Allan Clelland
Bruce Popplewell
Kerry Popplewell
lain Cave
Wendy Cave
Richard Evans
After a feed of fish n' chips we started the 5 km walk back along the main road to the road bridge over the Whataroa River and the start of the track. Once again it was raining and we optimistically stuck out our thumbs for a hitch, although we did not expect a ride with our monster packs. After a few minutes we turned around to see a police 4wd stopping to pick us up. We were able to fit all our packs inside as the local copper gave us a ride to the road end after getting our details in case of a SAR incident or if any burgs were committed.
The rain really started to come down so after about 15 minutes of walking we found a spot above the river to put up our tents for the night and got into pit.
The travel was good for the first hour and a half up to the first bridge over the Whataroa River, just above the Perth-Whataroa confluence. The track was reasonably muddy and there were a couple of large side streams which were easily crossed, and at one of them we saw a couple of thar. Once across the bridge the travel was a lot rougher with some difficult sidles and little steep bits which were hell with our heavy packs. We stopped for lunch at Twister Bivouac just as it started to rain.
From Twister Biv the track got rougher again and in lots of places we were close to the river and scrambling over lots of debris. It was obvious that the track had recently been cut and it would have been a real bush bash otherwise. All the way up the river we sidled over some impressive gorges. The Whataroa is an awesome river and there is no way you could cross it without a bridge.
The last section up to Butler Junction Hut seemed to take forever as our packs got caught in the bush and we had to squirm under logs on our stomachs. We reached the hut after 9 and a half hours, with sore backs and glad to be finished for the day. Dave collapsed into his bunk and we thought he wasn't going to get up again. It was not an overly long day but it was hard work in the bush with such heavy packs.
Over the bridge the track soon disappears and reverts to the river bed. The going was quite good until we came to a huge avalanche which had swept across the river. It had dammed up the river which was flowing through a tunnel of ice. It started to rain again and soon we were on a steep sidle track climbing in and out of streams and continuously slipping on wet rocks and tree roots. We crossed over a second avalanche which had also dammed the river and thrashed about for a while longer until we got to the bottom of the moraine wall on which Wymper Hut sits, at the head of the Whataroa.
It was a 120 m climb up the moraine to the hut and we arrived wet and exhausted as we dragged our packs inside. Whymper is an excellent 6 bunk huts with lots of entries from people who fly in for hunting but not many who walk in.
The weather started to clear in the afternoon so we went for a walk above the hut to where we could look into the head of the Whymper Glacier. That night we got a good weather forecast for the next couple of days which is what we needed if we were to get over Whataroa Saddle.
Half way up the Whymper moraine we climbed out of it up the moraine wall. From here our route was up the True Right of a rock spur to the site of a tarn at 1640 m. The beginning of the climb was just up loose rock and then onto snow covered rock. The last couple of hundred metres was in the snow and we found ourselves plugging steps
We reached the site of the tarn (which was frozen and covered in snow) at about 1 pm. The weather had been clear all morning but now a lot of clag was blowing in from the west. We stopped and had lunch and then decided to set up camp as we did not want to risk going on in the clag. We had an early tea and then waited for the radio sked. The forecast was again good for the next couple of days so we decided to get up at midnight.
After packing up the frozen tents and melting plenty of drinking water we set off at about 7:45 am. The route was a straightforward snow plod up snow slopes to just below point 2288 m. Once again as we climbed up the cloud started to roll in so once we reached 2200 m the cloud was just below us. We stopped just below 2288 m and roped up before sidling down to the northwest and into crevasse country for the first time. The route then took us up and onto a large snow basin which we had to trudge across to reach Whataroa Saddle.
We put our crampons on for the first time just below the Saddle as it was reasonably hard snow with a soft layer on top. By this time we were in the clag and there was a small breeze blowing. We decided to get off the Saddle when we noticed an old bit of cord round a rock which was obviously an abseil anchor for access down onto the western side of the Saddle. We could also see a large schrund on the western side. The visibility was not too good though so we carried on back down to the snow basin and made camp.
The weather cleared up again after about an hour giving awesome views of Broderick Peak, Mount Mannering and Whataroa Saddle; all on the Main Divide. We could also see Ellie De Beaumont sticking out to the southwest. The conditions were awesome that night with the cloud layer at 2000 m, which then cleared completely.
The forecast for the next day was good, but shit for the day after so we knew we had to get across the saddle and to a hut.
Alexis was the first to abseil down and easily cruised down to just above the schrund. He was just about to jump across when the snow collapsed and he disappeared out of sight. Alexis had fallen about 7 m into the schrund and then had a real mission trying to prussick out with crampons on. He was able to get up to the lip but it was overhung a lot and he could not climb out over it. We eventually decided to set up a Z-pulley and in no time had dragged him out so he could anchor himself above the schrund.
Once Alexis was safe I abseiled down to above the schrund. Then after slackening the rope and building up some courage I leapt across the schrund successfully (thankfully). Alexis then instructed me in setting up a T-slot anchor for the others when they jumped across the schrund. Everyone got across safely with Dave the last across.
It had eaten up a lot of time getting across the schrund and by the time we headed off it was 12 pm but we were now on the east side of the Main Divide. It was then a traverse to above Classen Saddle. We were not sure of the route here and spent a bit of time among crevasses just above some ice falls before traversing east to a spur leading onto the Murchison Glacier. At his time alot of cloud was blowing over from the west and we were keen to get to a hut. We could see Murchison hut from where we were and it was our planned destination for the night.
There was some hard snow which we put our crampons on for but otherwise it was a straight forward route down to the Murchison which we unroped for. Once on the glacier we roped up again and headed across to the slopes below Murchison Hut. It was then a 200 m climb up to Murchison Hut, a welcome sight at the end of the day.
We were pretty happy to finally reach Steffan Hut and decided to stay the night there. It is a small 4 bunk hut with a log book which starts in 1983 and is only filled in on 7 pages.
That night on the radio sked we heard Tony Stephens in the Craigieburn Range so Dave and I had a yarn to him at the end of the sked.
At the end of the Murchison we had to climb up onto the Tasman moraine and then begin another long moraine bash across to Celmisia Flat and then the shelter at the end of the Tasman Valley road. From the moraine we had awesome views of the Caroline face of Cook and the Hochstetter icefall. The weather was nice again but quite windy.
After too many hours we finally finished the moraine slog and walked down the 4wd track to the Tasman Valley shelter. Here we had lunch and scoped out the tourists for potential rides back to Mt Cook village. We split into two groups and straight away Dan and I had a ride and then a minute later Dave and Alexis. We were all out to the village at 3:30 pm. It was an awesome way to end an awesome trip.
We were:
Eric Duggan (scribe)
Dan Batten
Dave Hodson
Alexis Lambeck
For information on the route see Sven Brabyn's book "Tramping in the South Island Arthurs Pass to Mt Cook".
It was with a feeling of great trepidation that I read an email from
Caroline Duggan on the Wednesday before the NZAC trip to Tapuae-o-Uenuku
in September asking if I knew of any “good drugs”.
Caroline was suffering from the early symptoms of that common fiend
the ‘flu. But Friday came around and she was feeling better so Jeremy Bray,
Ben Wiles, Alexis Lambeck, Caroline and I joined the other fourteen people
who were heading off to climb Tapuae-o-Uenuku and possibly Mt. Alarm in
the Inland Kaikouras.
This trip was run as a follow up trip (organised by Alan Lowrie) to the NZAC course that Caroline and I had spent the winter groveling in the snow on. It was now time to practice in reality all that we had learnt. All the times we had thrown each other down icy slopes to test anchors was going to prove an asset to our new climbing careers - or so we thought.
After disembarking from the ferry at Picton, we traveled many miles to the start of the Hodder River and camped out in a hayshed kindly lent out by the resident farmer. We awoke bright and early to the sounds of barking dogs and bleating sheepies as the station came to life. After breakfast Caroline, Ben and I went to notify the farmer we were here and to ask if we could leave some of our gear in one of his sheds. There was noone home so we left a note decorated with Baaaing sheep on mountains of course and reported back to Alan Lowrie. We all found a suitable shed so everyone left all their unnecessary items behind - hairdryer, TV, study notes, credit cards, thermarests. . . .
We then proceeded up the valley through farmland and down onto the narrow rocky bed of the Hodder. The water was only knee deep in most places and we were lucky that there was no snow on the banks. The weather was pleasantly mild and drizzly. As we moved on up the valley criss-crossing and weaving our way through gorges and small waterfalls I fully experienced the joys of carrying all your tramping gear plus a pair of nice heavy plastics and a few bits of climbing gear. Now I know why many alpinists travel so light! Luckily I had borrowed Rachel Crawley’s fantastic Macpac women’s pack which had design features that made all the difference when carrying this heavy load - thanks heaps Rachel!
After a few hours we reached a point in which we climbed a short way above the river and I would just like to say that this was probably the most strenuous part of the trip for me as it was fairly steep and grovelly. Who needs to climb peaks when you can exert yourself far more by climbing a slippery clay bank with a heavy pack!? We reached the river again and what a change in the scenery! From a small space enclosed by rocky walls we were now at a wide v-shaped valley, scree slopes towering high above dotted with snow, keas circling overhead and far in the distance the Hodder huts perched precariously at the head of the valley. My VUWTC tramping ethics of staying together were lost as people spread far and wide to pick their own way over the large boulders and the Hodder. Some chose to sidle, others to try and follow the river all the way up and consequently hitting some rather large waterfalls! I followed the sidlers and took the time to chat to various people who I hadn’t met before (which was most of them) to take my mind off tripping over boulders and scree.
Once we reached the huts we all thankfully dropped our packs and fought over bench space to cook dinner. Caroline was feeling reasonably ill and thought the dinner I cooked was revolting but that’s only because she doesn’t like vegetables. Soon night was falling and with it came that biting Alpine cold, so after a radio sched we all fell to sleep in preparation for an early start the next day. In the morning I was informed that I had been mumbling in my sleep again and had caused concern from Matthew Stevens, who thought Caroline was in the last stages of delirium! After a look at the weather at 5am we all went back to sleep because it was windy and cloudy. I was very disappointed until at 7 am someone said that the weather was improving and we were going to head to the summit of Tapuae-o-Uenuku. The group was divided into those wishing to climb Mt. Alarm as well and those who only wanted to climb Tapuae-o-Uenuku.I chose the latter group after careful consideration of my fitness and experience.
Donning plastics, day packs, ice axes and crampons we made our way over the scree. It was a slightly frustrating experience as plastics have very rigid soles and most of the terrain was steeply sloped. Every so often we would hit patches of snow where echoes of mirth sounded out over the valley as I laughed at Alexis as he consistently fell up to his waist in snow.Hence I dubbed him “Tinkerbell” for the rest of the trip (sorry Alexis). Meanwhile Caroline was turning greener and greener and at our next rest stop felt she could not continue to the summit. This was a real blow and very disappointing for her and myself. Many of you probably know what a hard decision it is to make when you know the rest of the trip will continue without you. Now I was in a dilemma but only for a few minutes (she was my climbing partner) and told her I would return to the hut with her while Jeremy and Ben went to the summit. But very nobly Jeremy stepped in and suggested Ben and I continue to the top as he and Caroline may be revisiting “Tappi”(I wondered how long it would take me in this article to abbreviate the name) in the summer. So, feeling slightly guilty at leaving Caroline to the mercy of the mountains, Ben and I continued on up onto the snowfields and began the steep climb following the footsteps of the rest of the party.
We stopped half way to put on crampons (and I still cut platforms and buckets like the wimp that I am!) and moved on up through a narrow, horizontally-challenged gully in a howling wind and mist. It was the first time I had to front point consistently in those conditions and it was a little scary. When I reached the top everyone was resting and eating, waiting for the others. “Hooray” I thought, “we’re nearly there”. As a window in the clouds appeared Alan pointed out the peak that was the summit. Oh dear, further away than I thought.
It was during this break that an unfortunate thing happened to Ben’s
bear Booboo who as always, was travelling on Ben’s pack. Taken by an Alpine
Club member he was unceremoniously impaled on some crampons! I think he
had to go to counselling afterwards - I know Ben did.
We soon moved on up a wide slope through the mist and then on the steeper
climb towards the summit. To get to the point we saw only mist, icy snow
and the backside of the person in front for most of the climb. However,
I did notice through breaks in the cloud how high we were as I looked down
the sheer sides to rocks far below. It was a bit like being in an aeroplane.
I wonder now what it would have been like in clear weather when the sense
of space would have been predominant.
Finally we reached the summit which was an icy piece of rock with a metal pole covered in riming. There was much ringing of cell phones, eating, photo-snapping and general good cheer. Ben and I skimmed a high five and were nearly blown off (idiots). As the weather was deteriorating we headed down fairly quickly. Noone was game for Mt. Alarm so the whole party returned. As we descended to the lower slopes we embarked on the wickedest bum slide of my life which ended up in a giant snow fight at the bottom.
When we got to the huts Caroline and Jeremy had been drying out all our socks to alleviate their boredom. Everyone told Caroline she had made the right decision as we didn’t really see anything but I think she was still a little disappointed. That evening was spent chatting at the picnic table watching the resident Kea before dropping exhausted into pit. The trip down the Hodder the next day in the rain was fairly uneventful but I had a great Geology lesson from Alexis and plagued him with questions about the rock formations we were passing and the difference between Australian and New Zealand rock.
Back at the hay barn after we had packed up we began an almighty game (19 people) of hacky stress-cow. (Having no hacky sacks, Natasha Gibb pulled out a stress ball in the shape of a cow.) Unfortunately for the cow it had its head ripped off. Then we all jumped in the vans and began the journey home to Wellington.
People have said to me that it was really only a snow plod up a mountain. We certainly didn’t put into practice the technical rope skills we had been practicing as the conditions didn’t warrant it. I was really only following as I didn’t have to pick the route. Barring that, it was one of the best experiences of my life, my first official summit and I won’t forget it in a hurry. It was a great group of people who went on the trip, which was truly a bonus, and it was fantastic to get a taste of alpine conditions on a more serious level. So I guess I’ve climbed my first rainbow and have been bitten by the climbing bug. Although unable to get away seriously this summer I have all of Europe waiting for me in 1998. I thoroughly recommend going to Tapuae-o-Uenuku if you can.
The passage of time has been harsh on my memory - this story is the result of many (ie. very few) conversations with the participants. Any mistakes (intentional or otherwise) are purely their fault!
The goal for this fine Friday evening was Waitewaewae Hut, situated deep in the Tararuas (Well, a good evenings walk up a tributary of the Otaki River at least). The group, (Melinda Short, Sarah Devon, Adrian Pike, Jeremy Haines and myself) mildly geographically challenged (Hey - we nav’d our way out of the Rangers Hut!) eventually ended up on the right track, and proceeded to wander up the creek. Many batteries later, the group was still found to be wandering up, with route finding in a creek bed proving an exciting venture. Those able to navigate practised their art, while those pretending to sleep (like myself) practised their art also. Tramping with a 1/2 foot wide, orange circle of light (ie total darkness) is good fun. Thankfully aid was provided by Sarah Devon, which an exhausted 4.5 volt battery for my headlamp - 1/2 a volt, what a difference! The am wore on until finally, the almost revered hut loomed in the (by this time) very dim torchlight.
Bedtime, and what an awesome feelin .... g ... Zzzzz ... Zzzzz ... Zzzzz....
Morning came. Morning sang loud the glory of a new day. Tired trampers told the day to piss off! Eventually keenness reared its ugly head. Keenness was observed in both Melinda and Sarah, but waned in the failing morning light. Again keenness reared its ugly head, and I, hoping to be strong, succumbed to its enticing calls.
We were off to Anderson Memorial Hut!!
For those of you not in the know, Anderson is on the main Tararua Range, reached by a good climb up Shoulder Knob. Scattered gear was hurriedly collected after breakfast, and thrown into packs. A sociable departure time of 11 am was the order of the day, and so we ambled out of the hut, with the prospect of a 900 meter climb ahead. After a couple of hours, we were 2/3 of the way up, when who should blitz past, but the esteemed Adrian Pike, who had opted for a pit day. Not living up to his sir name, Mr. Pike threw out the drogue shoot and slipped back from Mach 1 to very fast. Using the now famous drafting technique pioneered by Adrian Barr, Jonathan Clarke and Eric Duggan; Melinda, Sarah and I sat back and relaxed in Adrian’s subsonic wake. A while later, we were upon Shoulder Knob!
It later transpired that Adrian, intent on avoiding the tendrils of keenness, succumbed. Allegedly, a tramping bear, passing by the name of Booboo was left accidentally at Waitewaewae Hut. Adrian, in a rare and usually unobserved fit of mercy, rushed to the poor bear's aid, and sped him up the hill to the rightful owner (me ?) Accidental I hear you ask? Hehehe...!
Late afternoon and early evening was spent relaxing around Anderson Memorial Hut, with Sarah preparing a truly memorable vegetarian dish. I just wish I could remember what was in it...! The evening drew long, and eyes grew heavy. Voices filtered in from outside the hut, as did Adrian’s “BUGGER OFF!!” Adrian believed that Anderson’s was being infiltrated by certain members of VUWTC, and hence thought that he was politely telling them to go away. Boy did he get a surprise as rugged looking Wellington Tramping and Mountaineering Club members stormed through the doorway, with fistful’s of crampons, and ice axes fixed. Adrian greeted the welcome guests with warmth and a small degree of apprehension, whilst room was made for about ten people in a six bunker hut. Bedtime was a cosy affair.
Morning came with a fire that lit the Tararuas and the Taungamet trampers' eyes. Six thirty, they were off, with illustrious goals far too far away to mention. Left behind were four victims, and a hideously early hour.
The rest of the trip was nice and quiet .... Melinda and I played a cool recorder/ tin whistle duet on Shoulder Knob whilst below, fellow VUWTC members who had tramped in to Waitewaewae on Saturday received (compliments of the Department of Conservation) an aerial application of sodium monoacetate (1080)! As the miles passed and day gave way to night, we tramped on. Finally, we crossed the suspension bridge near the road end under a perfect starlit sky. Wandering across a bridge with torches off, across a piece of water like glass and a void above and below was one of the most amazing moments of the trip.
Driving out of Otaki Forks was a good feeling, and we finally rolled
into the local Waikanae fish’n’chip shop, where we sat around and listened
to John Hawkesby tell us what a wonderful person Diana had been... past
tense? What the ….?