Tātou Araroa – Episode 16 — The hills are alive with the sound of….. mud.

Progress: 2128.7km – 70.77%

Princhester Road to the South Coast

Looking towards the Takatimu Mountains from Telford Burn

It rained and it rained and it rained. Then it didn’t rain, so off we went, leaving the tremendous Mossburn Country Park and her array of animals (alpaca, sheep, chicken, peacocks!) behind. We felt rested and keen to get moving despite having 6 ½ days of food in our packs and feeling the weight. A brief stop in Mossburn for a lunch of venison pie, nachos and a chicken toastie, a quick hitch to the track start and off we went.

Day one was a short 70 minute walk down a farm access road towards Lower Princhester Hut. The excitement of our upcoming walk through the Takatimu Ranges increased as the valley closed in around us.

No easy KMs to be had here!

About 300km ago we stayed at the tremendous Whiowhio Hut in Palmerston North and picked up a book “The Pants of Perspective". As explained at the time, this book was an inspiration for our journey and the message in the copy we now possessed, written by one of the main protagonists “Coach Ron" said we needed to leave this book at a Hut on the trail. We had decided at the time it had to be Lower Princhester Hut, where we were staying that night, as Anna, the author and hero, had a torrid time getting to this Hut on her journey. It felt satisfying to leave the book there in the hope some other Te Araroa walker could feel the same inspiration we feel about her exploits.

Delivering Anna’s book ☺

Princhester Hut was old and dark but warm enough and we slept well. We awoke early, knowing we had a big day ahead. We entered the forest proper under an overcast and drizzly sky. The day began with us sidling the narrow path over the saddle then dropped into the vast basin that makes up a large chunk of the Takitimu Range. We then entered into a pattern of beech forest followed by tussock followed by forest. The tussock sections were new to us on our journey and we reveled in their openness and uniqueness. The going was slow and, particularly in the tussock, it was very very damp. At times we would walk in tall grass at eye level in ankle deep water, it was fun in a very odd way and made for enjoyable games of “find the next marker!”

Tree-ranosaurus

We alternated between forest and open tussock all day and, eight hours after leaving Princhester Hut, we arrived at Aparima Hut. As we came around the corner and the hut came into view we were greeted by a friendly wave from a fellow walker called Kelly. Kelly, who along with a young German gentleman (whose name escaped us), are NOBOs (or Northbound walkers who start at the bottom of the South Island and head up the map). A fun afternoon in the cosy confines and roaring fire in the hut was filled with good chat and sharing of stories. Our favorite was that Kelly had carried 1kg of Spirulina powder about 150km from Bluff before accepting that it is truly awful stuff.

We slept well again and awoke early once more before setting off. Our first task of the day, about 10 minutes from the hut, was crossing the swollen Aparima River over a swaying all wire swingbridge, it certainly served the purpose of waking us up! We continued onwards passed the bridge on the tussock before once again dropping into the forest.

We have grown somewhat exasperated with Te Araroa sections like the next four hours – muddy, undulating, rooty and slow going, but also very much hemmed in by forest with no views on offer. Whilst it seems spoilt perhaps to not bask in the verdant and diverse wonderland that is the New Zealand bush, we, especially Bill, were not in good spirits.

We pressed on up and down and around, making turgid progress until we reached the Lower Wairaki Hut. If we were in a horror movie the scene there would be someone in the hut saying “I don’t like the look of this place....” immediately before some creature climbs through the floor and digests them. Needless to say, we filled up our drinks bottles, had a speedy lunch of smoked paprika tuna and a peanut butter wrap and we pressed on.

Our afternoon, graphically

The altitude profile for the rest of our day was rather daunting. A 600 metre climb followed by a 500 meter descent was a sanity sapping afternoon prospect. Nothing to do but to make a start so up we went, it started quite tame with gentle ups as we sidled a hill. The thought process however tells you that “if we were 5km from the summit at the hut and we had 600m to climb and now we’ve walked 2km and only climbed 150m, it means this is about to get very steep very soon”. It did. Two hours of calf screaming, lung stretching, patience testing vertical assault followed. We said that we would walk for 20 orange trail markers then break but by the end it was every 5 at most. Sarah had once said about climbing that her motto is “it can’t go on forever" and she was right. We reached a plateau, a gap in the trees and we were on what is known as the Telford Tops, a gently undulating and wide rocky ridgeline with expansive views back towards the Takitimu Ranges and south towards the coast. It was a fitting reward for some hard yakka. We had done the mahi (work) and were now recieving the treat.

Bill on the Telford Tops

Unfortunately our joy was tempered somewhat by the reality that we were on exposed tops and that the weather was looking potentially grim. Exposed ridges are not where you want to be if the clouds roll in and visibility drops, so we made quick time in losing altitude. We followed the ridge for 30 minutes before we spotted a landmark to our right. It was the long drop toilet of the Telford Burn Campsite, our destination for the day. It was nestled next to a river far down in the valley below so we dropped off the ridge and rapidly descended. It was not a nice track and our knees and calves screamed at us as we, together with our poles, fought with gravity to arrest our momentum.

Thanks orange marker for the encouragement!

We arrive at Telford Burn Campsite with one thing on our mind – miso soup. Miso has become the elixir to our bodies’ overwhelming craving for salt and electrolytes at the end of a day. It has the added bonus too of not being a diuretic so it means, unlike tea, we are less likely to need to leave the confines of the tent to attend to nature’s call during the night.

Our dreams however we scuppered by two menaces of varied forms. Firstly it started to rain so we had to get the tent up ASAP which we achieved with little internal dampness. The second menace was the sandfly hoard that descended on us. Thinking became simple – shelter and cover. Put the tent up, get into tent, cover oneself from head to toe in clothes and apply bug spray to anything not covered. Sadly thinking was not as calm and collected as perhaps was optimal with Bill expressing loudly, and rather obscenely his personal disdain at both the weather gods and the creator of the tiny black terrors.

Tent up, settled inside, fun game of “Destroy Any Sandfly Who Made It In” complete, the rain stopped so we had dinner al fresco, smashed down a miso then retired for an early night.

The following day was a 28km mission across Aotearoa New Zealand’s largest farm Mt Linton Station. We had heard about a bit of a lively river crossing so we had that ahead to consider too. Our pre-walking preparation was completed, as much as praticably possible, within the tent owing to the army of sandfly calling our tent outer home.

Sandfly invasion on the tent

We set off and made good time, crossed the chilly but ankle deep Telford Burn and then eventually encountered a sign reading “Te Araroa Walkers: Past this sign is private property, if you are seen on this land you will be escorted back here and fined". We knew this was coming and the story is unfortunately a sad and frustrating one. In 2018 a hiker walked through this route (it was open at the time) and had come across a hut owned by the farm. As the farm is so large they build huts dotted around and supply them with food and comforts so that workers don’t need to return to base during the day for lunch. Sadly this walker broke into a hut and stole the supplies. The farm decided then to reroute all Te Araroa walkers, adding about 8km and the tricky river crossing to their journey. A sad example of one person ruining it for everyone else.

Telford Burn

We grumbled and moaned and then accepted our fate. As if to rub it in, the immediate path after this sign is a 270 degree righthand turn back on ourselves and steeply up a hill away from our final destination. We followed this, thankfully well formed, track for 90 minutes before we started walking alongside the Wairaki River. We knew this was the river we would eventually cross and it looked fast, perhaps mid shin deep but clear and certainly manageable.

We eventually followed the markers down to the river and began our preparations to cross. Phones away in cases CHECK. sternum straps undone (they are fiddly to undo, especially if you’re floating down a river so best to do before) CHECK. Checking the river- the method we use is called “Getting your A into G" – a 7 point acrostic checklist to help you gauge a river. A – Alternative – do we need to cross THIS river, HERE, NOW? The answers were in the affirmative so we move on. B – Bottom – can we see the bottom and what does it look like? Yes, we can see the bottom and it looks like nice small stones and some larger rocks, nothing that will cause us too many problems. All good. Current is our C – is it flowing faster than walking pace? We throw in a stick and try to walk perpendicular to it as it flows past. Ah, it is faster than a walk. Warning Sign. Current is good to pair with our D – Depth. It is low to mid shin deep which is positive. If it were higher then it would have to be combined with the concerns regarding the current and a judgement call be made. So far so good. Next up is E for Entry and Exit. Where are you going to go in and where will you leave the river? Factoring in steep banks, obstacles, current and depth into the equation. We have a shingle beach on either side so we are good. F is Fallout – if we lose our footing and go in, what happens then? Is there a fallen tree that might catch us underneath? A section of rapids that might cause us strife? We spot a meander downstream where the river turns, deepens and slows, so we’d likely be able to swim to safety there if not before. No worries. Finally our G is us, the Group, are we both able to do this? Are we fed and watered and warm and ready? Yes, we are all good.

A to G completed we decide our best approach is the mutual support method. We enter the river together with our arms behind each other’s backs between back and bag holding each other’s straps. Bill as the stronger of the two of us on the upstream side. We stowe a pole each and use the other for probing ahead and an additional point of balance.

One final check and we enter the water, the current is strong but the depth allows us to make controlled and steady progress along the bed. A running dialogue of comments like “my left" or “your right” helping us stay close, well balanced and having three feet on the floor at all times. A rock upstream of us about two-thirds across created a nice raised bank for us to take a brief break. We entered the final section continuing at the same pace as before, three more steps, two, one and we are out.

The deceptively strong Wairaki River

We walk away from the river and take a seat on an old stile. Feeling very proud of ourselves we debrief and empty half a shoe of shale from each boot and put them back on.

Buoyed from our achievement across the river we make excellent progress for the remainder of the morning and take a seat on either side of another stile for our lunch with exactly 10 of our 28km left that day.

It becomes clear that Mt Linton Station have taken the infractions of this lone idiot stealing their food very seriously and personally. As you are diverted from well made 4x4 tracks to walk in muddy rutted paths running perpendicular, you begin to feel somewhat unwanted and unloved on their land.

This continued often through the remainder of the day and we were very thankful when we finally left their land and found ourselves on a gravel road a few kilometers from out residence that night at Birchwood Station. The trail notes were positive- “hot showers – home cooked food" and it did not disappoint. We’d called ahead and asked to pay the additional $15 for dinner but had no clue what it might be. It was a good subject to talk about whilst walking, with outrageously amazing and ludicrously awful dishes mooted as potentials. It was never pitched as a meal during our conversations but we were chuffed with the large bowl of spaghetti bolognese. It was cheesy, meaty, full of vegetables, but most importantly it was not couscous, dehydrated peas and a tuna sachet!

The shower was tremendous. The powerful and hot water cleansing our mud encrusted legs and soothing our battered souls. The wood fire was quickly lit too and we sat back in the leather chairs of the hut in a blissful contentment. We even moved the mattresses from the bunkroom to living room to sleep by the roaring fire. For two walkers who had their bodies and minds stretched by any number of seen and invisible foes over the last 4 days, it was nirvana in the deep south of New Zealand.

Spag bol at Birchwood Station

We leapt out of bed the next morning and headed out. A brief stop 15 minutes in for Bill to run back to hut and retrieve Sarah’s phone from the table was met with mainly laughter rather than the deep maudlin thoughts that might have occured pre-shower, fire and spag bol.

The Woodlaw Track made up the majority of our 28km day, its overwhelmingly most memorable feature is The Steepest Climb on Te Araroa so far. Leaving the valley floor we saw a line of orange markers following a near vertical fenceline. Walking this steeply is a very personal challenge, each person must find the method, the pace and the mindset that works for them. For Sarah it was counting the fenceposts and plodding slowly but consistantly whilst mixing short steps with longer strides to keep the calfs and achilles from aching. For Bill it was about waypointing using the orange markers and small quick steps to maintain momentum.

Monster of a climb on the Woodlaw Track

It was a climb of many false summits. The best motivation to be had was to turn around and see ones progress in relation to the valley floor. Slowly but surely it leveled off and, an hour of grinding glacially paced ascent we were up. The top was a beautifully well walked road with little undulation or complexity and was a delightful second act to the opening stanza of lactic acid building drudgery.

We dropped quickly off the hill through pine forest and eventually came to a road. We sat down for lunch and made peace with the idea that, should a car pass us on this remote gravel country road, our thumbs would be extended. Alas it was not to be and so we walked. 40 minutes of road walking later and we come to our final challenge of the day, the Island Bush Track. This 4km section had the altitude profile of a nicely fluffed hotel pillow, with a gentle rise, plateau and gentle drop. The trail marker said “1 Hour 30” but we had other ideas.

49 minutes later, smashing a whopping 45% off the allocated time, we completed the pleasant and somewhat non descript section and were now on the road leading to our resting place for the night, Merriview Hut.

Merriview Hut was warm, quiet and had a wee honesty box provision cupboard with eggs and 2-minute noodles for sale. Bill seized upon the Beef flavoured noodles and ate them accompanied with a miso soup for perhaps the most savory meal any human has ever consumed. Sarah boiled two eggs and ate one whilst savoring its protein injection.

We had the small 5 person hut to ourselves until a lady arrived in the early evening. Marika had started out from Bluff some days earlier within a group of 7 but was now the last surviving member to make it all this way. Others had got lost requiring police help, had stuck around until 1pm begin their walk so the tavern in Colac Bay could open and feed them a full English breakfast and others had just grown sick of mud and walking and had decided to skip ahead. She was dark that her plan to walk others had fallen through but seemed hardy and ready to press on alone.

We made an early dinner and discussed the plan for the next day. We were entering the Longwood Forest, notorious for its mud, slow progress and difficult to follow route. It had taken others 3 days but we were going to get this done in two.

The gorgeous Merrview Hut

5.30am and the alarm sounds, we frivolously treat ourselves to a five minute snooze and then we sit up. 29km today to Martin’s Hut, between us and the hut stands 1300m of up, 1000m of down, rumours of kilometer stretches of knee deep bogs, exposed ridges and rooty, confusing forest. Trepidation was palpable.

It all started nicely. Our chilly bodies treated to the first 8.7km on a forest road with very little effort required. 8.7km down, less than 20km left. Marika had told us that the first climb, to Bald Hill was the easiest section so we were glad this wasn’t atrocious. The sign suggested 19.7 to Martin’s Hut – 9 Hours. Our early start mean this would be 5.30pm and we would take that.

Purple mushroom… hate to think what happens if you eat that

Once the road ended the trail began in earnest, it was muddy and slippery and slow, but not devastatingly slow. We accepted quickly that we would end up with muddy boots, shins, knees, arms and more, so we embraced it and tackled the mud puddles head on rather than skirting around them.

We eventually reached the bushline before Bald Hill (so called because there is very little vegetation at the top) and stepped out onto the exposed top. It was a curved and gentle environment with no danger of falling. The overwhelming story however was the weather. In the bush we’d felt a bit of breeze and a smattering of rain but on the top was carnage. Horizontal rain, whipped by the incredibly strong southerly wind lashed our faces and soaked us. It pushed us off balance and harrassed us across the entirety of the journey upwards and along the ridge.

Eventually we reached the trig point marking the summit and we began to hear the hum of the strange building set up here with no clear purpose other than to provide walker with some shelter on its leeward side.

The best outcome of this installation was the road that came to it. We eagerly jumped on the road and hastily descended out of the howling wind. We followed the road for an entire 4km which was a godsend in terms of progress. When we finally turned off its delightfully predictable surface we had just 10km left.

This section off the road was, according to people we had spoken to, the real bad bit. We had 4km until another 3km on the tops then a 3km drop down to the hut to go. We were immediately faced with tricky, deep and sticky muddy bogs often stretching for many many tens of metres. We thanked our experiences with mud on the North Island for our acceptance of the situation and pressed on. The zen like “well it’s not as bad as Pirongia" attitude sometimes showed some chinks when a foot would drop knee deep into mud or a shoe would find an especially slippery root sending you tumbling. Sarcasm proved a good weapon.

Conditions on the tops in the Longwood Forest

The next challenge became our temperature. The drenching we received before, coupled with the slow pace meant we were getting worryingly cold. Cold breeds slips and falls and bad mental states, but the solution was not a fun one so we continued for too long being cold. The solution is not fun because for us it meant stopping in the rain, removing all of our top half of clothing, putting on a thermal top and then redressing. The easier solution is to put on a fleece under a rain jacket but neither of us wanted to sacrifice getting a fleece wet when we were quite sure we could put a thermal on and it would stay dry. It was our best decision of the week.

Five minutes after adding the thermal layer we felt astronomically better. Our body was no longer working so hard heating our core it could now manage our frigid extremities. We headed back onto the tops for the longest (3.3km) but final section of exposure feeling positive and driven to get this done.

Again the wind battered us and the moisture from the cloud we were in coated us, but we were not to be dampened. We had seen off everything this monster of a day had thrown at us and we’d done it in good spirits too. We walked along the low vegetation now with a sense of humor about the wind. Yes, it was phenomenally strong, but we were stronger and, when we turned left to head downhill and had the wind on our back, the wind was now working for us.

We descended a little and came out the bottom of the cloud. Below us was a sprawling view of the very bottom of our nation. The view swept from Colac Bay around to Riverton and beyond and was a welcome and unexpected treat for sore eyes.

We dropped further and eventually arrived at the 118 year old Martin’s Hut just before 4pm. It had taken us 9.5 hours but if you’d offered us 12 at the start of the day we would have taken it.

Martin’s Hut is run down, it has many holes and is dark inside. It is, unfortunately, for many, the last Hut they will see on Te Araroa as there are none south of here on the conventional Cape Reinga - Bluff route. We inched out of our soaking boots and clothes and thanked ourselves when we put on our warm and dry fleeces, saved for this very purpose. In true English style, we had a cup of tea. In less English style we followed this with a miso soup and a hot chocolate.

An hour or so later and we are joined, one by one, by three weary souls. Robbie and Sarah had come up the opposite way so we briefed them on their tomorrow. Murray had followed us and we reveled in common experience.

A pleasant evening followed, it was nice to have a full hut (if only for the warmth of bodies). We fell asleep with just one thing on our minds: Pub Tomorrow.

The Longwood Forest laying out the red carpet for our last day

We had another early start and made good progress on the predictably muddy but primarily downhill track. The area had historically been used for gold mining in the early 20th century so water races were a common sight. (A water race is a trench dug away from a river to get water to flow a certain way. The gold miners would then run this water through sluices placed along the runs and extract the gold).

Time passed by and we pressed on eventually making it to a well maintained track where we dropped down the final couple of hundred meters, had an undignified shin wash in a stream, a 5km road walk and we were done. It was time for the pub.

Foolishly we’d checked the menu at the Colac Bay Tavern online well in advanced, so our mouths were drooling when we walked in. A hastily drunk beer was followed by squid and chips and pizza (chicken and cranberry) and chips, it was tremendous.

It was so good in fact, we went back for dinner. A huge plate of battered Blue Cod and chips and a huge crumbed chicken, brie and cashew salad was the evening’s fare. Topped off with a final dish of salted caramel cheesecake and ice cream we were well and truly stuffed.

Reflecting back on this last week, it has been a real grind at times, tempers have been lost and toys have been ejected from prams, but we are very proud that we didn’t dwell on things and remained positive and driven throughout. Just need the New Zealand summer to show up now....

Some backstory on the origin of the Takitimu Mountains

What’s next?

A short 13km beach jaunt to Riverton tomorrow followed by a less short 30km day into Invercargil the next day. Then we’ve just got the 35km or so to Bluff and we are done this this big section.

Decision to be made on if we go to Stewart Island is pending due to weather.

Bonus alpaca picture! From left to right; Sarah, Alpaca, Alpaca.