Tātou Araroa – Episode 20- Mauri tū, mauri ora.

An active soul is a healthy soul.

Progress: 2642.1km — 87.84%

Rangitata River to Arthur’s Pass.

The tent pitched by Paddle Hill Creek

As we muddle our way northwards, we have become more and more aware that “the end is nigh". We have 5 distinct sections left to make up our 507.9 remaining kilometers. This next section encompasses the 142km between the Rangitata and Rakiaia Rivers and northwards to Arthur’s Pass.

The Te Araroa Trust make it abundantly clear they don’t want you to even attempt to cross these dangerous braided rivers, as a result a shuttle bus has arisen. The bus has picked us up from the Rangitata’s southern bank at Mesopotamia Station and was now dropping us at Mt Potts on the northern bank. Just as we arrived it began to rain and the wind was already whipping us. We rolled out of the van, chucked the wet weather gear on and were all set to go. Joining us for this section was Kelly, from the last section, and Sarah, who we had meet at the decrepit Martin’s Hut following the awful wet day in the Longwood Forest some 6 weeks ago.

At is was 2.30 already we aimed for a short 16km day and to set up camp by Paddle Hill Creek at the foot of Dogs Hill. The rain cleared soon as we moved away from the Rangitata River valley, but the wind remained and it was howling. Fortunately the track was incredibly well formed and we made good time heading towards Lake Clearwater in a sweeping and mainly flat valley floor.

Lake Clearwater in the middle of nowhere.

Lake Clearwater is a strange oasis in the middle of the tussock covered landscape. The lake is home to a small town built on the little rise on its western shore. With no signs of civilization nearby, it is an odd sight.

Eventually we turned away from the lake, whilst still being smashed by the wind, and climbed over a small hill into another irritatingly gusty funnel of air directly fighting against our momentum. Fortunately the track was again well trodden and quick so we made our camping spot in no time. We were able to tuck in out the wind and felt well sheltered. Sarah, the newest member of our team, fell over in a river last week and lost her tent, so she had a tarpaulin to sleep under. Bill helped her design a nice low profile bivvy and we crossed our fingers it would hold up to the wind. It did hold up, but the temperature had dropped to around 3 degrees overnight so we were all a bit chilly. It was dry though so we were not complaining.

Keeping with our aim of taking our time in this section, we left camp the following morning at 9am with just a 21km walk along a mainly flat four wheel drive track. It was again dry, but very windy as we set off. Walking as a four was nice, it was good to talk to different people and conversation flowed well. Good conversation makes time fly and the 12km to the start of the Hakatere Scenic Park was covered hastily. We managed to find a nice sheltered spot by an oak tree for a lazy and protracted morning tea. It was 11am and we were already past halfway.

Another windswept valley in the Heron Basin

We finally gained the willpower to leave the sanctuary of our woody resting spot and reentered the wind tunnel. We passed the cute Lake Emily and the dry Lake Seagull, bypassed Manuka Hut and soon saw Double Hut tucked up against the Taylor Range beside the Swin River. The intended track took as past the Hut and then zagged back, but we decided a straight line would be fine for us. We battled the one kilometer over loose rocks and through thorns before arriving at the old, but well maintained, corrugated iron hut. The trail notes say Edmund Hillary (the first man to summit Mount Everest) stayed here which made it extra special.

The rustic Double Hut

We rested up out of the wind and absorbed the view across the valley over the huge Lake Heron and the snow dusted peaks around the Ashburton Glacier. As the evening progressed we realised we were not alone in the hut. A wee mouse scuttled across the concrete floor and, as mice don’t tend to be solitary creatures, we realised it could be an interesting night. We repacked our bags again- making sure all food and rubbish was packed inside ziplock bags inside pack liners inside of bags inside of bag covers. If Stuart Little can get to our kai (food) through all that, he’s welcome to it! Amidst the worry of mice and the sound of possums clumsily clambering across the roof, we actually all slept tremendously well.

The following day was billed as the tough one in this section. A 650m slog up to Clent Hills Saddle followed by a long descent down a stream that the walker must cross “56 times" according to the notes. It started off fairly pedestrian with a walk along the valley floor before a dense section of Boxthorns and the awful awful “Spaniards” (razor sharp and firm dagger like plants) slowed our progress hugely.

We pressed on past the section feeling harassed and abused by the flora. The landscape turned uphill but the trail became easier and less aggressive on the legs. The general trend continued uphill, with undulations around the streams flowing down to the river below. We watched up the valley as the low cloud flowed effortlessly between the spurs and valleys. We continued upwards further, expecting to enter the clouds at any moment, but fortunately the warm morning sun was burning them off as we approached. The tussocked lower reaches of the valley side gave way at times to scree. Scree can be horrid if loose and if the path is narrow, but thankfully this was wide and solidly built. We traversed a number of scree slopes with often 400 meters of steep intimidating grey rocks all that stood between us and the river below.

We continued upwards once more through the tussock and scree until finally we climbed over a spur and could see the saddle ahead. We hastily climbed the final section to the saddle and sat down for a cold-shortened break. The path down looking winding but well made and manageable and it was for the first 3km or so. Eventually the elevated path we walked upon fell down to river level and the fun began. Cue 6km of dozens upon dozens of river crossings. No crossing was dangerous, one did not have to choose the paths carefully, but it was tough going and slow nonetheless. The valley floor alternated between open and flat, offering respite from the river across the thorned banks, to narrow and gorged, meaning we had to walk in the river itself or traverse it at regular intervals. Our Sarah took a little tumble in one of the slippier crossings but her and, perhaps equally important, her unprotected phone, were both fine.

Approaching another scree slope on the way up to Clent Hills Saddle

A view down the scree

The gradient began to level off and the valley open up around us. We knew we were through the worst of it. A short while later the, sporadically spaced, trail marking poles turned 90 degrees away from the river and up a small hill. Immediately after the hill was the rustic Comyns Hut, It was our original plan for the day to stay here, but we had done well and were eager to press on. A quick stop and visits to the wharepaku (toilet) and we were off again. We had 6.8km to the next hut and keen to make it quickly.

A typical river scene down from the saddle

The next 90 minutes saw us cross over the Tartons River half a dozen times but this time we were following a 4 wheel drive track and the pace had all the symptoms of GetThere-itus. We finally crested a small hillock and there she was beneath us, the tremendously cute, tiny but modern A-Frame Hut. As you might expect from the name it is a small 3 bunk hut shaped like an A. We were stoked to find the hut unoccupied so we unpacked promptly and rested in the late afternoon sun. Grateful for our commitment to making the extra 7km today and grateful too for the empty hut and glorious weather. Kelly remarked “its so nice it’s almost silly” and we all agreed.

The really very cool A Frame Hut

A tremendous sleep followed, we had just 9.8km to finish up the section tomorrow and felt accomplished and content. The 9.8km over Turton Saddle was conquered quickly and easily the following morning. We were met at the trail end at the Rakiaia River by Pat. Kelly had met Pat in Te Anau a while ago and had advised her that when she were passing through this way he’d come pick her up. Pat had said “my van will be there open, there is a chilly bin (cool box) in the back, if I’m not there help yourself". Inevitably amongst us famished hikers this became a long running topic of conversation over the last 3 days “what’s in Pat’s box??” It turned out to be beer, chocolate milk, apples, bananas and hot crossed buns- way way exceeding expectations. All four of us feasted hungrily on the treats and we hopped in Pat’s van to get out to the town of Methven.

View of the Rakaia River from Tarton Saddle

As mentioned,Te Araroa Trust strongly advise against crossing the Rakiaia River, hence why we are being shuttled around it. We heard from Pat that the day before a Te Araroa tramper had been choppered off a small island in the middle of the river after activating his Personal Locator Beacon after being swept downstream. We were worried it might have been a mutual friend/walking/hut buddy Robbie as we knew he crossed yesterday.

Upon our arrival in Methvan we said goodbye to Sarah and Kelly as they were carrying on to Christchurch for a few days rest. We then headed to the tremendous Methvan Holiday Park, set up our tent then began the standard ritual of massively overeating whenever we reach a town. We went to the Brown Hotel for tapas of garlic bread, fish tacos, calamari and fries. Unfortunately, it was average and we rued our selections. Back at the Campground we arranged a shuttle to the other side of the Rakiaia River with the manager of the holiday park and enjoyed a restful afternoon.

The 6.30am alarm sprung us to life the following morning. We packed up, jumped in the campsite owners van and arrived at the trailhead at 8.00am. The days aim was the Harper Village Campsite. It was all gravel road and not delightful underfoot, but we made great time. Waypointed by Lakes Henrietta, Georgina, Evelyn and Selfe, we were surrounded by rusty brown hills in the foreground with sharper and more angular snow covered peaks behind. Lake Selfe especially offering a calm and reflective view from its shore. It was also home to a toilet that anyone would be proud of in their own home. Its smartly tiled floor and crisp white walls offered a delightfully civilised option for our daily ablutions.

Relflecfions from a cloudy Lake Selfe

We finish the 22km in a little over 4 hours and tucked into a well earned lunch. There was no tuna to be found in Methven, so this leg’s lunch was to be a new delicacy – salami, cheese and crackers. It was a delicious change. With 33 crackers to cover 4 lunches it meant we had a 8.25 cracker ration which proved plenty.

We set up the tent in the Harper Village Campground. Despite the name, there is no village here. A generous person may call this erratic collection of building a hamlet, but certainly not a village and no amenities in sight. As we were setting up the tent a car arrived. It was two other walkers we had seen whilst riding from Twizel to Lake Tekapo last week. They were being dropped off by a friend. As they began their goodbyes, their friends pressed them to take more food but they declined. We weren’t hovering, but were in close proximity as the lady turned to us and offered, in order; a brownie (eaten immediately), a pack of spicy cocktail sausages, a pack of feta in oil with herbs and a bag of a delightful fennel, cherry tomato, cucumber, spring onion, mixed leaf and gherkin (quickly discarded) salad.

We sat and talked Trail for a while before making our adapted dinner of the aforementioned meat, cheese and salad together with a tasty flavoured rice. It was delicious and a lovely change from our usual camp fare.

The following day promised to be a wet shoe day. Following the Harper River upstream towards Lagoon Saddle. We expected it to be slow and hard going but thankfully it was quite the opposite. We walked perpendicular to a farming road and the river for the first hour. Cursing at the appropriate times when the going was uneven or frustrating “why can’t the farmer just let us use the road!” After an 90 minutes or so we completed our first stream crossing for the day, as with so many of the rivers in the section the Harper was very braided and crossing it meant traversing 4 or 5 separate bodies of water. Being early in the day, the water was icy cold but the flow was gentle and only low shin deep. We continued upstream in the valley created between Mount Ida and, the wonderfully named Mount Gargarus until eventually diverting north after the confluence of the Harper and Avoca Rivers. In and out of the river we went, making good time but gradually being drained by both the warm sun and the constant aquatic visits. Eventually we turned away from the river towards the Hamilton Hut.

By the Harper River Pinnacles (check out the rocks in the background)

We had a quandary- we had only planned to get to Hamilton Hut today, but it was 12.15. The hut is nicknamed “Hamilton Hilton” due to its tremendously modern condition and its pull was huge, but we decided to do something today that tomorrow us would thank us for – we pressed on aiming for Lagoon Saddle around 10km ahead.

We kept expecting the track to deteriorate but the exact opposite happened. We found ourselves on a well marked, well groomed and spongy beech forest trail that was glorious underfoot. We made great haste for the 4km between Hamilton Hut and its polar opposite, the nightmare inducing West Harper Hut (“I wouldn’t let my dog sleep in here" said a comment in the guide) We felt most smug thinking already about how tomorrow we would just have 8km until civilization in Arthur’s Pass. It was naïve of us of course.

The track from West Harper Hut was a mix of walking directly upstream, walking on the tough rocky river bed and, wonderfully, more of that springy beech frond carpet we like. It was undulating though, especially when the rocks around the river closed in and created deep gorges. When this happened the trail shot upwards at almost impossible angles up, over and around the obstructions. These jutty tangents from the river, coupled with the heat, drained our energy and removed a layer of our smugness. After covering close to 4.5km/hr for most of day, we now dropped to below three. It always seems to happen on the last part of the day.

The Harper River bed

Following on from our wonderful evening in the A-Frame Hut a few nights back, we were excited for another similarly constructed shelter just shy of the Lagoon Saddle. We were confident we’d have the tiny one bed shelter to ourselves and the thought of a quiet evening and night propelled us forward. In a case of neither being happy to see the other, but acting like we were, when we reached the hut and swung the door open vigorously there was Veronika from Czech Republic. She was probably anticipating a night alone in the idyllic structure but, unfortunately for her, she will had to put up with us on the floor!

Soon after she arrived at the hut Veronika asked us if we’d seen the news. We had been out of signal for a few days so we hadn’t. She then informed us that Covid has resurfaced in Auckland who were now in Level 3 and the rest of the country in Level 2. It was scary news to hear but we were, as always, impressed by the government’s strong and immediate response.

The “trail" — hard going after a long day

The A-Frame hut was perhaps not as well constructed as first appeared as the temperature dropped dramatically overnight. Sleeping on the wooden floor, albeit on our bed rolls, was very chilly and we slept poorly. We had, however, just the 8km to walk to Arthur’s Pass that day which we covered quickly. It was along very well made tracks across some tussock and down through first pine, then native forest.

We arrived in Arthur’s Pass with temperatures at midday of 9 degrees. Despite being 1000m above sea level, this was disgracefully chilly. We had a quick pie (Bill – Red Thai Chicken Curry, Sarah – Lamb and Sweet Potato) and then took up our place by the side of the road for a hitch to the next section of trail at Lewis Pass. Two successful hitches later and we are in the underrated town of Westport for night with a bus to the trailhead booked for tomorrow morning.

What’s next?

Next up is the highly regarded St James Walkway then up to St Arnuad for the spectacular Travers-Sabine Circuit

Bonus pictures:

Top to Bottom: One of the clearer Trail Signs — SHEEP!!!! — West Coast beauty