Tātou Araroa – Episode 19- Kua tawhiti ko te haerenga mai, kia kore e haere tonu. He tino nui rawa ou mahi, kia kore e mahi nui tonu.

We have come too far, not to go further,we have done too much, not to do more.

Progress: 2500.1km — 83.12%

Lake Hawea to Rangitata River via Mount Cook.

Mount Sefton reflected in Sealy Tarn

Alarm set for 5.45. It’s going to be a busy day. As mentioned before, we are using some of the extra KM we’ve walked on our many side trips to press on while the weather is good to sections where you need the weather to be good. First up was a very generous lift from our friend Renee from Wanaka to the town of Tarras. Tarras is home to a shop, a café, a store selling wool products and, if the government gets its way, soon an international airport.

Quaint Tarras

We had a lovely cup of tea whilst waiting for the bus to the town of Twizel. When the bus came we hopped in and enjoyed the picturesque cruise over the Lindis Pass and into McKenzie County. We arrived in Twizel and set out to complete our last logistical challenge for the day, to get to Mt Cook Village and the wonderfully named White Horse Hill Campsite. It took a good while (tourists don’t seem to pick up hitchhikers), but eventually we got a lift, firstly from a very wacky gentleman who has sunglasses hanging from washing lines throughout his car and also had a predilection for crossing the centre line of the road. Of all the things we’ve done, statistically this could be the most risky. Our second lift from the end of Aoraki Mount Cook road was a couple from wonderful Timaru.

The drive from State Highway 8 to Mount Cook Village might be the most beautiful in the world. Shouldering the chalky blue Lake Pukaki whilst driving deep into a towering U-shaped valley was one thing, seeing Aotearoa New Zealand’s tallest mountain, the 3724 meter high Mount Cook was another. As we approached the road end Aoraki Mount Cook was joined by a second snow covered behemoth in Mount Sefton and superb views of the Tasman Glacier.

White Horse Hill Campground

We arrived at the Campground, set up our tent in arguably the most dramatic campsite on earth and were keen to stretch our legs. The afternoon’s adventure was the Sealy Tarns Track and her famous 2200 step “stairway to heaven”. Heaven it was. As we climbed up, the 2 moraine lakes of the Mueller Glacier came into view as well as a clear and uninterrupted view of Aoraki Mount Cook. As tremendous as all this sounds, sight was not our most intrigued sense. The deep rumbling gurgle of small avalanches on Mount Sefton rumbled through the valley. The otherworldly and primordial noise of this vast and perpetual freeze/thaw cycle was as fascinating as it was unnerving.

We continued upwards and upwards in the afternoon sun, sweat beading from our brows as we ascended the seemingly endless wooden steps. Finally we reached the Sealy Tarn, a tarn being a lake high up in an alpine environment. The tarn was interesting but the view from 600 meters above the valley floor was incredible. Bill claims it to be the best he’s seen in New Zealand. We were also treated to a glimpse at the impossibly located Sefton Biv. Sefton Biv is famous for its precarious perch high up atop a steep spur on Mount Sefton. The tiny 4 person shelter is famous too for its lung busting and mind blowingly treacherous access.

Sarah reflecting at Sealy Tarns. Aoraki Mount Cook in the background beyond the lakes.

We climbed down, relishing the lengthening early evening shadow and the relief from the scorching temperatures. We arrived back at the tent and began on dinner (kaffir lime tuna sachet, cous cous, dehydrated peas (for Bill), broccoli (for Sarah) and a delicious avocado. We were in a buoyant mood at everything the day had bought. This mood was elevated further when our camp neighbors (also the lovely couple who had picked us up from the roadside that morning) brought a nice cold beer (Peroni, but we wont hold that against them).

A shroud of low morning cloud greeted us the following day. Visibility, especially vertical visibility, had dropped significantly from the previous day and thus hid our surrounding mountains from view. We decided to press on anyway and walk the Hooker Valley Track. The Hooker Valley Track is world famous in New Zealand from it’s incredible view of Aoraki Mount Cook from the base of Hooker Lake, the moraine lake of the Tasman Glacier. Amongst the eery atmosphere the mornings weather had created, we pressed on down the valley, crisscrossing the rampant Hooker River atop three tremendous suspension bridges. Frustrated a little by the lack of view, we hoped the sun would burn away this foggy shroud before we reached the lake. Alas it was not to be, but it made scant difference because we saw something in the lake we’d never seen before – icebergs. Ranging from tiny dimples barely breaking the surface to one the size of a small car, we reveled in this unique and mysterious scene on the calm sapphire lake.

Iceberg on Mueller Lake

We returned back to our tent and began to pack down. We needed to get back to Twizel and back on Trail proper tomorrow. Fortunately we caught a lift from a girl who was driving around in a campervan on her own. Her trip was meant to be her and her English boyfriend, however Covid had put pay to that and he was unable to get back to NZ for it. Another sad casualty of this wretched virus. We arrived in Twizel in the early afternoon, had a tremendous burger from a café, did a little resupply and headed for camp.

We had arranged bikes for the next section as the 51km leg between Twizel and Lake Tekapo had no camping options and was part of the Alps to Ocean Cycle so was designed with cycling front of mind. Sarah was apprehensive, but we reminded ourselves of the huge 89km ride in Wanganui and were confident we’d be fine.

Sarah on the bike by the Tekapo Canal

The cycle started well, the well signposted and predominantly flat trail allowed for good speed and, at times, even riding two abreast so we could talk. After an hour or so we eventually reached Lake Pukaki. The overcast sky hid its trademark milky powder blue hue (as a result of it being glacier fed) but it was a tremendous sight nonetheless. We continued along the edge of the lake for a good while before heading up and away from its shore in a long busting ascent towards the start of the Tekapo Canal.

The Tekapo Canal amid the McKenzie Country backdrop

Climb done, we began to follow the Canal, past the salmon farms and onwards further towards Tekapo itself. The trail alternating between gravel and tarmac, but always seemingly flat, fast and fun. We continued further and the clouds began to clear, just in time for another great view of Mount Cook but also many of the other peaks that surround McKenzie Country. Soon we had noticed red poles on side of the canals, it was KMs to Tekapo which, being on a bike, rapidly descended.

The sun now fully out, and the heat of the day upon us we were grateful for our speed to provide a breeze of sorts. Shortly after, the canal ended, we climbed a final 80m hill and we were presented with a tremendous view of Lake Tekapo beneath us. We quickly dropped down into the town below, got an ice cream (caramel cornetto for Bill, mint choc cornetto for Sarah) and went for a little walk to loosen off after a day in the saddle.

Church of the Good Shepherd

We walked to the Church of the Good Shepherd, a Tekapo landmark that is a stone church on the waters edge. The serenity of this, usually rammed, tourist hotspot was in equal parts great and sad. Lake Tekapo had the feel of a town that were really feeling the effects of no international tourists.

We checked in at the very plush Lake Tekapo Holiday Park, spent the late afternoon taking in the views and drinking beer and headed for an early night. We had again elected to sleep without the outer layer of our tent so we could see Lake Tekapo’s famous night sky. The sky was great, the gentleman in the tent next to us reversing his jetski trailer for a full 30 minutes between 10.30 and 11.00pm was less so. With a 5.30am alarm set it did not bode well.

Sunrise from our camping spot over Lake Tekapo

The 5.30am came and was immediately amended to a 6.00am alarm. 6.00am came and we hastily packed up and set off. A big day today, with a really exciting treat awaiting at some point…. We walked back along the lake shore and began to follow its curve away to the North. We were comfortable with hitching this road section as the day was due to be scorching and we had 34km to get done. It was a quiet road but fortunately a fisherman gave us a little 8km of automotive assistance.

Unedited picture of Lake Tekapo from a bridge.

We sat down by the lake just before the trail turns away from its edge and decided it was time for breakfast. We tuck in to our granola, LSA (linseed, sunflower and almond powder) and milk powder when we hear a familiar voice “that must be Sarah and Bill!”. Striding down the hill we see the imposing figure of one of our very favorite trail people – Scott, followed very shortly by the equally wonderful Jane. Scott and Jane were part of the Famous Five who wound their way through much of Northland, but also made up two of our bubble of six who tackled then tough Tararua section together. It was so great to see them and hear all about their trail experience. As genuine purists, they have followed the line pretty much to the meter since Cape Reinga and are now a mere 3 or so weeks from the finish. We exchanged stories and experiences from the sections we had completed and enjoyed very much the familiarity of friendly faces on the trail. We eventually said our goodbyes and heading onto the Richmond Track with a nostalgia induced boost.

The Richmond Track was a gently undulating tussock filled stroll that made its away away from the lake and towards the Round Hill Ski Field. We made good time but baked in the hot sun, exacerbated by the lack of shade the lack of flora offered. We reached the ski field access, took a few final looks back the Lake. We had now reached the top of the lake and were offered a great view of the rivers feeding into it and the valley these rivers had carved over millions of years.

Sarah on the Richmond Track with Lake Tekapo and the Godley River behind

The sun now really beating on us, we dropped down and across a stream, walked along the bank of another and eventually headed uphill to our final stop for the day, Camp Stream Hut. We were greeted at the Hut by a family of 5 who had walked in from the ski field. We have developed huge respect and admiration for parents who get their children into the outdoors early and these guys were great examples.

We slept wonderfully in our tent under the unbelievably vivid stars. Lake Tekapo and the surrounding area is a designated Dark Sky Reserve meaning light pollution is kept to strictly minimal level and it really shows.

We awoke the following morning to another still and clear stunner of a day. Today was special, today we were climbing to Stag Saddle, the highest point on Te Araroa at 1925 meters above sea level. There are two options to climb to the saddle – valley or ridge. We chose ridge and were stoked. The gentle tussocked ridge provided us with incredible views back to Lake Tekapo and across to the jagged peaks beyond the braided Godley and McCauley Rivers. We had also adopted Kelly, who we met some weeks before in Aparima Hut, for this leg and were enjoying the fresh conversation and her wonderful ability to ask great questions.

The gentle ridge to the left and Stag Saddle ahead

We carried on up the ridgeline for three hours then sidled across a narrow seam of scree, hopped up a few boulders and we were there. Too easy! Upon reaching the Saddle we were presented with views both back along the ridge we’d come from, but also down into the valley below. As well as being mesmerizingly beautiful and vast, it was also a big tick in the Significant Achievements of Te Araroa box.

Atop Stag Saddle

We spent a good 30 minutes on the saddle before we began our descent. The descent was a melange of tussock, rock, scree, steep and gentle, but mainly it was slow. The trail markers were erratic and difficult to spot and regularly we lost the path and found ourselves in razor sharp cutty grass. During our descent a stream began to form a stream, the incorrectly named Bush Stream (there is no bush anywhere near here!) We would follow Bush Stream all day today and most of tomorrow.

We continued down crisscrossing the stream a number of times. Sometimes we would walk directly adjacent to the stream and sometimes we would be sent high around a rocky bluff when the river meandered around one of its many bends. It was slow going but certainly not unenjoyable. The best part was when you had to cross the stream, it was boiling and the feet adored the frigid stream flowing over the lip of our shoes and enveloping them in joyous cold.

Royal Hut

Eventually the mini valley within a greater valley began to open up and we turned a corner. Once we turned the corner we spotted our lunch spot- Royal Hut. So named because Prince Charles and Princess Anne visited as children.

Royal Hut is a basic sheep musterers hut but was spacious and comfortable inside. We launched inside the 6 bed shelter and relished the shade it provided. Our original plan was to stop here but a second hut, Stone Hut, was just 6km away and would shorten tomorrow so we thought best to give it an extra effort today.

The 6km passed quickly as we one again followed and traversed Bush Stream as it wound it’s way down the valley. We arrived at Stone Hut around 5.00pm, capping a long but immensely rewarding 10 hour day. As it was our anniversary we split a Mars bar for dessert. Very romantic indeed.

Having walked the extra 6km the previous day we felt perhaps smug that we had left ourselves just the 17km for the last day of this section. Little did we know it would eventually rival some of our very longest days on trail so far.

Nothing says romance like eating a melted and reformed Mars bar with a knife on your anniversary

An alternative route was considered and dismissed the previous night. One could follow the Bush Stream as it forges it’s way through a heavily gorged section and rejoin the route some 9km later, or, our choice, walk up the 600m or so up to an unnamed saddle then back down again via Crooked Spur. Our rationale was that the high route had far fewer variables and the river route, despite no rain in 7 days previous, was still running strong and once we’d committed there was no return.

Looking back on Stone Hut

We set on up the valley, with Kelly in tow, enjoying another beautiful blue sky day. Sarah was feeling a little under the weather, potentially from yesterday’s heat but she pressed on and began to feel better as the day progressed. The undulating route was poorly marked. The story goes that some local lads had been paid by the Department of Conservation to put orange poles out to mark the way, but in fact had stashed them under the bunks at Stone Hut (there were many many poles under the bunks so this could be true). Fortunately, as a three, it seemed someone could always spot the sporadically placed poles from a distance and we remained mainly on trail. It was undulating and slow going but the views up the valley from both Sweeps and Packhorse Streams we incredible. Vast scree banks, razor sharp ridges also backed by the rich azure sky made from a brutal but wondrous sight. The size of the streams we crossed also added to our growing comfort in the decision we had made to stay out of the river. They were not insignificant streams and were both flowing down Bush Stream below, it would all have resulted in increased flow and depth.

A view back down the valley with Packhorse Stream to the left

As we passed over another of many hillocks on the route we eventually saw the saddle come into view. Three or four more tussock covered hills stood between us and, what at the time, looked like a steep and precarious scree sidle up to the saddle. Some comfort was taking in that we could see the path up the scree already and we were many km away, so it must have a bit of width to it and also that we met a few walkers heading the other way and no one had remarked on its dangers.

View up the scree slope to the saddle

We traversed the hills between us and slope, stopping at each water source to fill our bottles with the clear and cold water. Eventually we reached the foot of the scree climb to the saddle. As with so much on Te Araroa, its never usually as tough or scary as it first seems. The solid an firmly packed rock traced a 2 foot wide route up. The route lack any precipitous drop offs and, apart from a little bitey section at the top, was of a very manageable gradient.

No sooner had we started we had reached the top. It was a bit of a grind but it was well formed and easy going. The view from the saddle towards the next valley was huge. You hear the expression “big country" a lot to describe parts of New Zealand where every peak seems to soar into the sky, where each valley drops away into the infinite abyss and where each rocky slope seems to be made up of fields of infinite stone. This was BIG country and it was stunning.

On our way up the scree

And on our way back down the huge scree field

We headed down the rocky descent from the saddle following a decent break at the top. Our next stop was Crooked Spur Hut for a late lunch. Stone turned again to tussock as we lost altitude. Signage again was limited but footfall made the path mainly easy to follow. We made the Hut in relatively good time at around 2.30pm. Crooked Spur had a great view of the end of today’s walk on the edge of then gigantic braided Rangitata River. It also had the feeling of being on the edge of the world as the spur it rested on seem to fall away rapidly after it. We ate our lunch in the shade of the hut and set off at 3.30, passing the “Road End 3hrs 30” sign as left.

Crooked Spur Hut with the Rangitata in the distance

The spur in which the hut was perched atop was indeed the edge of the world. We sadly had to drop off the edge. We shuffed slowly along the narrow spur, Bill’s height demons began to stir ever louder as gusts whistled down the valley. Slowly, but semi-surely, we dropped down into a small cluster of beech trees and welcomed their shelter from both sun and wind. Finally we reached the river and crossed. Sadly we then had a frustrating and slow traverse up and over a 150m hill. The hill was a gauntlet of thorns of many different varieties, our favorites being the razor sharp and firm boxthorns that ripped our calves and thighs to bits.

Over the hill we dropped once again into the river for our final push towards our destination where the Bush Steam meets the Rangitata. It was now 5.30pm and we were tired. We hoped for an easy ride but it was not to be. We traversed the river a dozen times, sometimes solo and sometimes as a three using each other for mutual support. The awkwardly angled rocks wore our feet down and the chilly river provided another draining experience. We were travelling at less than 1km an hour and our shadows were lengthening.

The valley ahead of us began to open slowly, like the curtain at a theater gradually revealing what’s behind. We crossed over one more time and the Rangitata came in to full view. A short in distance, but long in duration, walk towards the river followed. Finally we saw what we had been looking for – a toilet, information board and carpark that was to be our home for the night.

A howling wind drove down the valley so we set up our tents in the most sheltered spot as possible. We cooked dinner and slept. Our pick up was scheduled for 10am and we were very grateful for no alarm. The forecast when we last checked was predicting rain overnight and all the following day so we tied down our guy ropes and expected the worst.

Sunset looking back for where we came from our camp spot

Despite the terrifying looking clouds we escape with just a few gusts and some drizzle. We were delighted when our ride showed up early and we set off for Geraldine for the day.

So here we are now in Geraldine. We’ve had a lunch of burger and chips (Sarah) and fried chicken and bacon on waffles and maple syrup (Bill), we’ve done our shopping for the next section and are resting up out tired limbs.

It was a tough section with very little quick progress besides the bike, but it was tremendous. The sheer scale of the surrounding country was incredible and overwhelming.

What’s next?

Next up we have the walk between the Rangitata and Rakaia Rivers, after that between the Rakaia and Arthur’s Pass. Hills and rivers and saddles aplenty!