Rain

Below is an anonymous poem occasionally seen in old hut books and tramping publications, although I have seen it attributed to Bill Wright from Hokitika.

It rained and rained and rained
The average fall was well maintained
And when the tracks were simple bogs
It started raining cats and dogs.
After a drought of half an hour
We had a most refreshing shower
And then most curious thing of all
A gentle rain began to fall.
Next day but one was fairly dry
Save for one deluge from the sky
Which wetted the party to the skin
And then at last the Rain set in!

(Anon)

A Night Templar

With a couple of spare days in South Canterbury the forecast gale nor'westerlies and heavy rain on the main divide did not bode well. We settled on the Temple Valley as a good overnight tramping option, being east enough to escape the worst of the weather. Located at the head of Lake Ohau, the route heads up the Temple Stream North Branch, over Gunsight Pass at 1890m then back down the Temple Stream South Branch.

Ambling up the North Branch accompanied by light drizzle and rapid-fire chattering of riflemen was a gentle start to the trip. The track followed the river through regenerating beech forest for an hour and a half to the old hut site, where there is a nice camping spot complete with longdrop. The cirque at the head of the valley is spectacular, and with the low cloud and inclement weather, thin waterfalls were streaming off the cliffs. From here it was a case of picking a route through an alpine meadow beside the stream for another hour before entering the rubble-filled gut leading steeply up to Gunsight Pass several hundred metres above.

Toward Gunsight Pass

The light rain gradually intensified and the rocks got looser as we ascended. It was necessary to test each handhold carefully and there were a few which I didn't bother replacing after use! With wet rocks and a couple of tricky moves, I was very glad not to be descending this route. Part way up, a cave formed by an overhanging boulder provided shelter to wolf down an early lunch and put another warm layer on. This would be our last refuge until the bushline on the other side of the pass.

As the stream dwindled to a trickle, the most stable path was usually straight up the rivulet. At the top of Gunsight Pass was a little bivvy site – no doubt a fantastic spot in fine weather. Today, however, we merely hunkered down briefly to don gloves before going over the top. The full force of the wind hit us as we moved through the notch and it did its best to push us back up the slope. It was a fun, quick descent down the scree slope to the boulder field at the head of the South Branch. After following down the stream a little way, the marked route was soon picked up. However, after a while this spat us out on the river bank then disappeared. The track is marked incorrectly on the map. We simply followed down the stream, crossing as necessary, keeping an eye out for cairns marking a few short bits of trail here and there.

Looking down into the North Temple

Before South Temple Hut is reached a major flood has taken out the forest on both banks leaving tall stumps punching through the gravel. We kept to the true right and eventually picked up the track to the cosy six bunk Forest Service hut.

First thing next morning a stream crossing ensured wet boots for the walk out; not that it mattered as it was an easy 2.5 hours back to the car. In recent years, the track has suffered from windfall and washouts, but the top section has largely been cleared and re-marked. The final kilometre along the river bank has been completely scoured out. For the most part we found it easier to stay down on the boulders, rather than duck up onto the short foot tracks through the scrub.

The confluence of the North and South branches of Temple Stream marked the completion of our loop. With a sense of satisfaction we looked back up the valley where our adventure had begun. Sunny blue skies a stark contrast to the black clouds of yesterday. It had been two days well spent.

**This is a trip report from 2016 which I recently unearthed.

Peel Range Roaming

The weather was perfect so Brendan took Friday afternoon off work and we drove up the Cobb Valley. A short 15 minute walk brought us to our accommodation for the night: the cosy 4-bunk Myttons Hut. This wee hut, discarded by DOC in 1994 and now maintained by Friends of Mytton Hut, turned out to be one of our favourite huts we have ever stayed at. A couple of beech trees which had been felled beside the hut provided ample firewood.

Saturday was blue skies and hardly a puff of wind. An easy hour up the track to Peel Ridge then we turned right and continued up the ridge to Mt Peel, which turned out to be easier than it looked. Munching our sandwiches on the summit we decided to make the most of the amazing weather and continue exploring Peel Ridge (the opportunity was too ap-peel-ing to pass up). Dropping off the back of Mt Peel what looked like a nice runnable 150m high scree slope turned out to be semi-frozen and required care to negotiate. We carried on 3.5km northwest along the tops hoping we might be able to drop down into the Cobb near Chaffeys Hut. It was incredible gazing out over Kahurangi and seeing ridge after ridge in the distance. Too much country to explore! Just past Mt Mytton the ridge got pretty gnarly so it would have taken a lot of time and effort to get any further (although it looked possible) so we opted to save the route for a future adventure.

Instead we turned around and headed back to Balloon Hut, which had been our original destination for the night. To our dismay this meant retracing our steps back up the 150m scree slope to Mt Peel, which by this time had thawed out. From Mt Peel it was an easy amble along the ridge southeast of Lake Peel to pick up the track to Balloon Hut. We had successfully managed to make the most of being out on the tops in such glorious weather, extending a 8.5km 3 hour trip into a solid 17+km over 7 hours.

The stars were brilliant when we went to bed but by morning the hut was in the cloud, and we woke up to a dusting of snow falling and a strong icy southeasterly wind. It was a cold, windy walk back past Lake Peel, where we had an obligatory stop to attempt to break the skin of ice. Despite heaving the biggest rocks he could find Brendan only managed to crack the ice at the very outlet of the lake, which proved to be over an inch thick!

As we descended through the beech forest to the Cobb Valley the bellbird song gradually increased until the air was filled with golden notes, reaching a crescendo five minutes above Myttons Hut. I don't think I've ever heard such a chorus in the middle of the day on mainland New Zealand! That is yet one more reason why Kahurangi is my favourite national park.

Beeby's Hut

An 800m climb sounds daunting for a Saturday afternoon, but spread over 8km the walk up to Beeby's Hut was actually relatively gentle (relative to other tracks in the Richmond Ranges anyway). Meandering its way up through open beech forest Beeby's track is interesting both underfoot and around about, with road noise and farm sounds quickly dying away into the distance. Rich earthy-smelling brown humus, black honeydew-covered beech trunks, vibrant green leaves, melodic bellbirds; a soothing feast for the senses.

Intriguingly we came across a white post and a newly formed track marked with orange flagging tape leading off into the bush at 900m. Curiosity got the better of me so we dropped packs and followed the trail for 300m to investigate. From this junction up to the 4WD track there was fresh trail work and flagged deviations leading me to deduce (correctly) that a new mountain bike trail was being put in. There was one steep pinch two-thirds of the way up, gaining 100m altitude in about 300m, but after that it was a lovely gentle stroll through stunted, mossy beech.

Emerging onto the 4WD track the temperature plummeted as we were hit by the icy southwesterly wind. Wooly hats and extra jerseys were hurriedly donned before we briskly strode along the road, glad that the sun was shining. Turning around we were treated to panoramic views of Lake Rotoiti and the snow-capped peaks of Nelson Lakes; Mt Owen and Mt Arthur dominated the skyline to the west, while eastward lay the Red Hills and a cheeky glimpse of the Inland Kaikoura Range. The 3km of 4WD track to Beeby's Hut was pleasant enough despite the biting wind and the views were definitely well worth the walk. In terms of the Effort-to-Interest-to-Views ratio this track would have to rate pretty highly!

Beeby's Hut is a standard six bunk Forest Service hut but was recently refurbished so is nice and light inside. There are no views from the hut itself as it is tucked into the bush edge but it is only a minute up to the ridge. One little gripe is that the fireplace is extraordinarily smokey and unless both windows were open the hut filled up with smoke. At one point Brendan got smoked out from his perch on the top bunk, making a dash for the door with watering eyes.

It turned out to be "Local's Night" at Beeby's Hut. A few minutes after we arrived a group of four turned up, two of whom happened to live the next street over from us! They proved to be excellent company for the night. At 7:30pm a father and son turned up, and it turned out they they were also from Nelson. Despite having 8 people in a 6 bunk hut it wasn't crowded or chaotic at all. Merely pleasantly and courteously cosy.

One benefit of winter tramping is that you get to sleep in and yet still watch the sunrise. After a good sleep and surprisingly quiet night considering there were 8 potential snorers in the 6 bunk hut Brendan and I wandered up the hill to watch the dawn colour fade from the sky and the first rays of sunlight strike the mountains. First Mt Owen was lit up then Mount Arthur, soon followed by the Raglan Range. At 8:05am the sun peeped over the Red Hills. The breeze was still cool but had swung around to the east and was not quite so bitter as the day before. We were reluctant to leave this magnificent spot, but after a lazy breakfast of milo/coffee and half of a Chelsea bun each it was a quick stroll down to the car and out to Wakefield for a pie.

Death Valley

No, not THAT Death Valley.

Halfway along Wakatipu's Humboldt Mountains, Death Valley is a hanging valley which feeds into the head of Kay Creek. Previously I'd been up the track from the Caples Valley as far as Kay Creek Hut and had also explored up Scott Creek from the Routeburn Road as far as Scott Basin. But I hadn't connected the two. Now was the time to make the missing link.

Lydia above Scott Basin

Saddling up on the Routeburn Road I was unpleasantly surprised by the weight of my pack. Scott Creek Track has no gentle warm up; it is straight into one of the steepest parts of the track. We were spoiled by having our VIP (Very Impressive Porter) lug my pack the first 2.5 hours up to the bushline while Lydia & I had the luxury of taking turns with her pack.

The upper Scott was nice travel and pleasant going with a gentle breeze counteracting the blazing sun. Plans had been left rather open. but on reaching the saddle we decided to turn eastward, popping over the pass below Pt1960 to camp by Death Lake. It's not officially named that on maps, but being the only lake at the head of Death Valley it seems an apt moniker. The pass appeared dauntingly steep from a distance but lines of weakness in the ramparts became obvious as we approached. Still, it was plenty steep enough to lug overburdened packs up.

The pass into Death Valley.
We angled up left from the left hand end of the snow.

Picking our way down the loose rock (not quite loose enough to be scree) on the other side we were startled to hear voices. A couple was ascending and commented on the state of the track and how it was impossible to follow. "Hang on a minute" I thought, "There is no track up Death Valley." I'm not quite sure what they were expecting but they seemed a little out of their depth. In next to no time we had a serene camp set up on the shores of Death Lake and I dived into its sun-warmed waters.

Camp at Death Lake

Walking down Death Valley in the early morning was fun, albeit slow. We crisscrossed the stream a couple of times in search of greener shorter grass on the other side but managed to keep dry feet. On reaching the scrubline, the "strong animal trails" promised by Moirs Guide soon petered out into a vague nothingness but it didn't take too long to crash down to the trees, and from there it was easy down to Kay Creek Hut. Originally a musterers' hut, Kay Creek Hut was overhauled in 2016 by students from Otago University's Phys Ed department. Their humour is evident in the stone steps labeled "Stairway to Heaven"... leading to the long drop!

Looking up Death Valley from the scrubline

Having abandoned my original ambitious idea of pushing all the way through to Steele Creek we opted instead to relax at Kay Creek Hut for a few hours, knowing that we only had to drop down into the Caples Valley. Back in familiar territory I enjoyed Kay Creek and was unable to resist one alluring swimming hole we passed on the track. Arriving at Upper Caples Hut just before 5pm we lounged around for an hour in the hope of a rendezvous with my Dad, who coincidentally was planning to stay there that night. Without a key we were outside at the mercy of the sandflies so when 6pm rolled around and there was still no sign of Dad it was time to plod another 2 hours down the valley to Mid Caples Hut where we could be sure of a bed and a sandfly-free shelter. (we discovered later that Dad had also changed plans and didn't make it to Upper Caples).

Kay Creek

Feeling sticky from sweat, sunblock and insect repellent, I decided that a 9:30pm swim would be just the ticket - and it was! I didn't realise how tired I was until I lay down in bed and didn't so much as roll over for two hours.The forecast heavy rain never materialised overnight but nevertheless we were in no rush to get anywhere and spent the entire day sleeping and relaxing in the sunshine at Mid Caples Hut.

Caples Valley

The glorious swimming hole at Mid Caples

Eyre Excursion

“Summer is here!” There was no denying this statement as we toiled up yet another bump on the ridge beneath a merciless sun. The eastern ranges of Otago’s Eyre Mountains are dry at the best of times, but with not a puff of wind or wisp of cloud to take the edge off the beating sun, the midday heat was relentless. 

The ridgeline of day 2, traversed from right to left.

The route had looked easy on the map: a couple of hours beside Irthing Stream to Mansion Hut the first night; straightforward, undulating ridge travel to Irthing Hut, and then a couple more days alternating between valley tracks and open tops, taking in Upper Cromel and Islands Huts, to complete the circuit. But now that seemingly easy ridge threatened to get the best of us.

The first day had gone to plan with a delightful meander up the valley to the tiny, humourously-named two-bunk Mansion Hut. There was not much living space inside so we opted to enjoy the calm, clear evening and soon had the campfire blazing outside. 

Mansion Hut

Brendan had gleefully promised lots of treats and surprises for my birthday and true to form he whipped up a delicious breakfast of pancakes with fresh strawberries and maple syrup! This was to be but the first of many little celebrations throughout the day. With bellies satisfied we waded across Irthing Stream and made our way up the spur immediately opposite the hut. The beech forest was relatively open so the going wasn’t too bad, although steep, and it only took about an hour to reach the bush line. Emerging into the open there was a bit of scrub to push through at first, before giving way to tussock and low shrubs. Point 1260, the first of five high points along the ridge, was soon reached only for us to immediately drop and regain 150m to the next peak. 

While munching on fairy bread for lunch (after all, “What would a birthday be without fairy bread?”) it became apparent that the relentless heat was taking its toll on us. We were both wilting, and before us lay the daunting looking 450m haul up to Pt 1450. Beginning on the climb, the first warning signs of heat exhaustion began to loom threateningly. The tiny shadow of a large rock presented a brief respite before I haltingly continued upward through the knee-high shrubs. The route itself was not tricky, but what had promised to be a nice ridge walk was turning into a real struggle. Brendan jubilantly found a lingering patch of snow which we put to good use in topping up water bottles and cooling ourselves down, shoving handfuls down our backs and under our hats. Still the climb went on and the sun beat down. A small bluff provided just enough shade for us to collapse in for half an hour before tackling the final 100m. Although we were still not at the highest point on the ridge, reaching Pt 1460 was a huge relief, both physically and mentally, as from here the gradient was much gentler and there was snow to provide a bit of cooling. 

Descending to Shepherd Saddle

After a brief break on the summit of Pt 1552 it was a straightforward descent to Shepherd Saddle, with a couple of small snow patches providing easy progress. From the saddle a nice scree shute dropped us 100m and then it was a descending traverse through tussock and shrubs down to the creek. What bliss to finally reach ice-cold, running water again! Half an hour through beech trees brought us out behind the bright orange Irthing Hut. According to the records in the hut book, only 12 people a year stay at this cosy two-bunk biv. A refreshing wash in the stream was first priority, and then Brendan proudly produced a bottle of sparkling grape juice! Just the ticket after a long, hot day in the open! We’d covered a mere 12.5km but had climbed over 2,000m. To complete the birthday celebrations Brendan decorated the hut with balloons and lit birthday candles on top of a steamed pudding. 

Irthing Hut

Stiff, weary bodies were still feeling the effects of dehydration the next day so it wasn’t until mid morning that we finally crawled out of bed. Originally the plan had been to head to Upper Cromel Hut and then over the tops to Islands Hut, but by the time we reached the Cromel Stream junction the decision had been made to take it easy and cut down to the nearby Cromel Branch Hut instead. The track over the low bush saddle between Irthing and Cromel was nice and interesting; re-marked and cut last year it was easy to follow despite some recent windfall. Cromel Branch Hut is nicely situated on a (slightly swampy) river terrace with firewood in abundance. Unfortunately the sandflies were also in abundance and we soon retreated inside. With plenty of time on his hands Brendan decided to knock up a seat out of old planks, a log, and some rusty wire and nails.

Feeling much refreshed after a good sleep we tramped back along the clearing to the Cromel Stream forks and then straight up the spur to Pt 1203 on Bee Ridge. The bush was steep but clear and we zigzagged up old deer trails. Once above the bushline there was a band of thick, head-high scrub to fight through to gain open rocky clearings. We spooked a deer and watched it bounding down the slope to shelter. Two hours after leaving the hut we crested Bee Ridge and joined the old 4WD track. From here it was a cruisy walk south to the Mount Bee Bunkrooms, with great views in all directions. This hut is quite unique, built from tongue and groove cladding, and is more reminiscent of a 1950s bach than a tramping hut. A relaxed afternoon ensued, lazing on the lawn and rehydrating with plenty of hot drinks.

Mt Bee Bunkrooms

“No way!” I rolled over in bed to look out the window to discover that it was snowing! Brendan sprang out of bed like a little kid with a beaming smile on his face and rushed out to enjoy the experience. We sat eating breakfast mesmerised by the whirling flakes. Although wet and heavy, the snow was settling on the ground. Two days ago we had been suffering from heat exhaustion, and now it was snowing. By 10am the snow had stopped so we quickly packed up and set off toward Irthing Stream via the spur just north of the hut. The tussock and scrub was all dusted with snow so we were soon completely drenched, but the bush was mostly fairly open and easy going although it still took two and a half hours to reach the stream. Back on the main track, a brisk pace was set as we tried to warm up. Walking the last section of gravel 4WD track from the campsite in light drizzle we reflected on what had been an enjoyable, yet under-estimated, tramp in a little-known part of the country. With unfinished business and so many other routes that caught our eyes along the way, another excursion into the Eyre Mountains is definitely in order.

Leaving Bee Ridge

Mt Rolleston

3:20am Headlights on as Dad and I begin wandering up the Otira Valley under a sky glistening with stars, the surrounding mountains faintly glowing in the moonlight.

4:50am Crampons donned at the base of the Otira Slide.

6:50am The first rays of sunlight stream onto our faces as we crest the col at the top of Goldney Ridge after a long, calf-destroying climb up the firm couloir.

7:50am Time for a second breakfast on the Low Peak of Rolleston (2212m) to replenish energy levels.

9:00am A short step of ice and snow-covered rock has me asking for the rope.

9:30am We break out the celebratory chocolate on the summit of Mt Rolleston (2275m). It’s rush hour - two other trios arrive before we head back down. With not a wisp of cloud and nary a breath of wind we take our time to enjoy the views.

11:15am A leisurely lunch on Low Peak before descending the sun-softened slopes.

12:00pm The snow is very soft, with each step plunging us in up to our knees (occasionally floundering up to the hip), so we resort to bum-sliding. Even this proves difficult except in the path of previous sliders.

2:00pm We linger beside the bridge across the infant Otira River, reluctant to leave the mountains behind.

3:20pm Relief as boots are removed at the car park after a thoroughly satisfying day.

Dawn on the Otira Slide

On the Low Peak of Rolleston, with the High Peak behind

Descending the Otira Slide