Janine's birthday is around Labour weekend so she's made it a tradition to go on a long hike, usually with Mike or Andrew or both of us tagging along. Generally these consist of us vastly over estimating what we can achieve, ably encouraged by Andrew, followed by a period of replanning on the fly when reality descends on us.
2023 was no exception.
Our mission was to get to Carkeek hut, one of the most remote in the whole Tararua range. Minimum of two days in and two days out. We got some maps and pondered routes.
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| Looks straightforward enough |
Andrew was violently opposed to the Poads Road entry so coming in via the Wairarapa it was. We drew pink lines with highlighter, agreed that we had a fine plan, and eagerly awaited the weekend.
Thursday: Getting a head start
2 hours. Holdsworth roadend to Atiwhakatu Hut
Thursday saw us driving out to Holdsworth roadend with a brief Carterton food stop for unimpressive pasta at the Marquis of Normanby. The place was pretty nice, but I’m getting the pizza next time.
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| Hmm, a lot of packets were opened to assemble my Chicken Parmigiana |
Then off to Atiwhakatu Hut to get a head start on our next day. All uneventful apart from that time I headed valiantly up a slip face in the dark thinking the track went that way then sheepishly coming back down.
The hut was dark and quiet when we arrived around 9pm, but a few pairs of boots at the door spoke to occupancy. Andrew and I slept on the porch, mainly because it was such a nice warm night, why would you not.
Friday: the worst day
12½ hours. Atiwhakatu Hut - Baldy - the Kings - Adkins - just before Girdlestone
My alarm went off at 6am and it was immediately time to go. Andrew had given us two pieces of advice: the lightest packs you can and leave early on friday because it will be a long day.
The three of us were off at 7am and walked together til the swing bridge across the Atiwhakatu Stream and the turnoff to Baldy, a bare rounded peak that was our first destination. At this point Andrew shot off, his plan was to bush bash down and up some spurs to get to Dorset Ridge hut. Janine and I were going the longer but more straightforward tops route via the three kings peaks and the mighty girdlestone. This was a last minute change of plan - you can see there is no pink line going that way on the map above.
Still, it all looked pretty doable on the map.
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| 7am and we're off |
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| So far, so good |
First things first, get to the top of Baldy which was really just the start of our tops travel. It took so, so long. 1.2km horizontal - and over 600m vertical, just to get to the bushline. The hot sun was pounding down and it was energy sapping. It took us two hours to get to Baldy and our schedule was slipping already.
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| C'mon, climb! |
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| Is that a view? Nah we're just getting started |
The rest of the trip was hard, and tiring, and scrabbly, and hard. The ridge line went steeply up, and steeply down, and involved a lot of climbing and scrambling and exposure. Very slow going. I was watching our progress on the map and the ever increasing gap between our progress and our ETA. South King. Mid King. Even though we’d both taken a lot of water, we both soon ran out and needed to refill from a tarn near Mid King. The water looked clear enough but we took no chances and slipped some aquatabs into our bottles.
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| Long way to go |
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| It's hot! |
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| Wind carrying moisture up the valley, creating ... |
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| A spectactular Spectre of the Brocken |
North King (a munroe bagged for Janine!). Adkins (frustratingly 40m shy of the 1500m bagging bar). But now we'd been on our feet for over twelve hours and were exhausted. With 30 min of daylight left we called it. We were not going to make our destination and scrambling up the exposed rocky faces of girdlestone in the clag and dark was just not going to happen.
The 1.8kg tent I'd been cursing all day came out and we found a small patch of relatively flat, relatively sheltered ground on the ridge line, just before the start of the Girdlestone climb.
It was actually an idyllic spot. I pulled out the surprise birthday cake that had been half a kilo of mass in my pack. We shared a backcountry beef stroganoff, transformed with real sour cream out of Janine’s pack. Then after the spectacular sunset was done, the gathering wind and dropping temperature chased us into our sleeping bags.
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| Yeah we're not going on through that in the dark |
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| Happy birthday! |
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| Stunning sunset |
My tent performed well. Despite Janine’s doubts here was more than enough room for us to top and tail inside without having our feet in each others faces. It held up well to the gathering wind that funnelled over the ridge in the dark. However I’d not been able to pitch it properly on the uneven ground and so the fly flapped noisily all night. It completely failed to keep me awake but i don't think Janine would say the same.
When I got up late to check the tent pegging and go to the toilet the night sky was magnificent. Not too many stars due to the crescent moon but what were there were dazzling pinpoints of light. Such a special spot to spend the night.
Saturday: the truncated day
6 hours Girdlestone - Dorset Ridge Hut
My alarm went off at 6am and I silenced it straight away. Today was not a day for an early start.
7:30 or so saw us clambering out of the tent and having breakfast - of leftover cake. We prioritised mass over nutrition.
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| The wind died down right on dawn |
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| There's where we're going |
Both our bodies and brains were dead tired, but less dead tired than they would have been going over Girdlestone in the dark and clag! It took us the best part of an hour's scramble to make it up the steep rocky faces. We saw Andrew scurrying along the opposite ridge and waved and shouted at each other. By the time we summitted Girdlestone and started back down the spur towards Dorset, he was cheerfully sitting on a peak in the sun.
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| Andrew cam - here we come! |
We conferred.
We would part ways again. Janine and I reassessed our journey and decided to head to Dorset Ridge hut that night. Andrew would carry on to Carkeek Hut, then either down to the river and out via McGregor biv or return to Tarn Ridge and out the way we came in.
So off we set. The sun beat down oppressively. I’d never been this hot in the Tararuas before. Dorset Ridge was much easier going than the Kings and Girdlestone. Tussock and small flaxes and an indistinct track that we regularly lost and found again. This was a good ridge to travel on after our exhausting previous day - no time pressure and nothing more to do but put one foot in front of another.
We stopped at the Dorset Ridge Tarn for more water, and enjoyed a leisurely early lunch with coffee, and soup. It was so nice sitting in the sun watching swallows wheel above us and dive at the tarn for insects and critters in the water.
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| Gorgeous spot, looking back at Girdlestone |
But onward we must go. Soon we reached the cairn that Andrew had told us was the signpost to head off the ridge and down to the hut. He’d warned us that there was no distinct route down to the hut and we’d need to follow the odd cairn here and there. Here our different navigation styles came to the fore, as I strode off confidently in something resembling the right direction while Janine took more care and found the cairns and followed the correct route. Between us we somewhat cut across the face of the ridge and down towards the location of the hut. Soon we found a track that a kind hunter had line trimmed into the countryside that took us directly to the hut.
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| Dorset Ridge Hut, a welcome sight and a gorgeous hut |
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| Beautifully kept |
I’m claiming it - Dorset Ridge Hut is the best hut in the Tararuas. It seems that it’s largely used by hunters in helicopters and really hard core trampers bush bashing in from the ridge above or the river below. It’s beautifully kept, clean and tidy and with pots and pans and cleaning products and suchlike provided.
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| Showing a bit of ... |
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| Dave the Mean Doses Quizmaster's nipple. Our spot prize at last week's quiz, put to good use. |
Dinner was Creamy Carbonara Backcountry meal - much better than expected, whether because of the extra spices I added, or the dehydrated chicken that Janine gave me to put in. Followed by Janine’s Tiramisu. Tia Maria, Ladyfinger biscuits, instant custard and thickened cream. It was pretty good I have to say.
Sunday: the wet and claggy day
8 hours. Dorset Ridge Hut - Girdlestone - Brockett - Mitre - Mitre Flats Hut
Sunday dawned wet and claggy, just as yr.no had warned us about. After the baking heat of the last couple of days it was a shock to the system to get dressed up in merino layers and pull out the parka. It was properly cold when the wind got up, and slightly unpleasant otherwise. Today wasn’t a day for sitting about, enjoying the views or stopping for lunch. With OSMs and muesli bars in our pockets we started walking and didn’t stop until we got to our destination.
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| It's a three coffee morning |
Getting back to the ridge was easier when you start at the hut and go up on a pre-marked track. We came out at a signpost to the hut, much further along the ridge than we’d come down the day before. Okay - now we just need to pick the direction to go to follow the ridge back to Girdlestone. Easy. I confidently pointed one way. Janine pointed another - 90 degrees away from my direction. Oh. The rolling terrain and the mist and clag made it very hard to get our bearings. I pulled out the map and compass and they told us to go in a completely different direction again, 180° from where I wanted to go. So off we set. For the rest of the day I made sure to check our bearings every time we had to change direction no matter how clear the track was.
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| It must be that way |
Back to the Girdlestone ridge. Back up to Girdlestone summit. Turn left (check your bearings!) and follow the ridge line to Brockett and then to Mitre. Trudge trudge trudge. Easy enough going until Mitre beckoned when we were back to climbing and scrambling up steep rocky faces. It was a great feeling to reach Mitre - we had a long way to go yet but from here on was well travelled easy routes and proper bush tracks with orange triangle track markers and everything.
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| Mitre. (Yeah, we didn't stop to take many photos today) |
Still, we made slow and careful progress down from Mitre, conscious of our fatigue, the general slipperiness and for me, the fact that last time down here I’d rolled my ankle and was limping for weeks afterwards. It was 4pm when the welcome sight of Mitre Flats Hut appeared.
It was everything that Andrew intensely dislikes about this hut. Overrun with trampers - two tramping club trips, many small parties, a group of teenage boys, and two neighbours with their two preteen daughters who played and chatted happily in a corner of the hut.
The best count we made were 16 in the bunks, 9 on the floor of the hut and uncounted hordes on the porch and in tents.
I picked the tent. Janine picked the floor.
Still, there was lots of good conversation and friendly banter. Janine immediately knew a friend & workmate, Murray, when we walked in. Laressa, Marty and their friend Cat (and her dog Stanley) showed up and it was great to see them. There were teachers nursing injuries, septuagenarians stopping off before they bashed up, offtrack, to Blue Range ridge the next day, Duke Of Edinburgh trainees and all sorts of other people. I munched on Moroccan Tagine from that new dehydrated-meals company by the Earnest Adventurer bloke. It was pretty delicious I have to say. We finished the last few mL of the whisky and the last few mL of the leftover Tia Maria. We had both made it more or less through all of our food. I’d never catered for a 4 night 4-5 day tramp before so I was quite happy with my food packing, though the birthday cake was possibly a little excessive.
Everything was just a little bit soggy in the tent - the rain had got in while I was pitching it, the ground around was saturated and my sleeping mat had got wet in my pack. But it was still okay and I was warm enough, though some coughing fits in the night presaged a week with Andrew’s flu to come. Luckily the next morning dawned fine and clear, again just as yr.no said.
Monday: Let's get out of here
4½ hours. Mitre Flats Hut - Pines Roadend
Monday was our last day and a short 4 hour trip down the Barra Track, beside the Waingawa River to the Pines road end and the finish of our journey. This track is really a simple-ish access track and not one I look forward to. But it was pleasant enough wandering along through the beech forest and getting glimpses of the river usually far below. The track crosses seven side-streams which means you can count them off as you go. We found a couple of nice camping spots, for next time Mitre Flats Hut is feral but the weather suits camping out and sitting about outside.
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| On the seat on the access road looking back at the hills we've just conquered |
The final part of the track is an interminable walk down a gravel road. We saw a random mountain biker riding up to the end of the road and back, as well as dog walkers and day walkers. It was such a sight for sore eyes to see Andrew waiting for us at the end of the track. Not content with making Carkeek hut, bashing out via the river and McGregor Biv and then out to Atiwhakatu Hut, he had just kept on going to Holdsworth roadend and stayed with his brother in Carterton.
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| Delicious steak and burgers at The Offering, Greytown |
What a fantastic weekend! That Friday was the longest most challenging day I’ve done, simply because of its duration - literally sunrise to sunset - and because we had to make the sensible decisions to pull the pin and not succumb to get-there-itis. But we have unfinished business. Carkeek Hut still beckons. And what do we have in store for Janine’s 2024 birthday?
