Day 55 Porters Creek Hut to Upper Wairoa Hut, 16.4km, 6 hours 10 minutes

A second day in the Richmond Ranges. My target was to try to do a big day and get to Middle Wairoa Hut.  According to my trail notes this was a 12 hour haul although I typically knock a fair bit off those times. As it turned out, a sore knee and marginal timing now that daylight hours are shortening saw me pull the pin after 7 hours.

It was another day on very Australian terrain.

It required some care on footing, the rocks were sharp and could really mess you up if you tripped on them.

The morning saw me heading up valley towards Mt Ellis. The first few hours was easy going to Hunters Hut, with just a few sharpish ups and downs to remind me I was in the Richmond's. Near the hut I surprised a goat on track, or rather we surprised each other. Even if I hadn't seen him, I'd have definitely smelt him on the way past!

It was a bit of a long climb, although not very steep - a haul rather than a grunt. Near the top, excitement! Tasman Bay, seemingly just down a couple of ridge lines - my first view of the sea for over a thousand kilometers, and a tangible pointer that the end is nearing.


Then down to the hut. It's nicely nestled in the bush. I like the old Forest Service orange that DOC have painted the huts through here - a nice nod to the past.

It looks like I'll have the hut to myself again tonight - I'm loving liberally spreading my stuff  around the hut.

I may try a bigger day tomorrow instead - if not I will need to have a very short day the day after. There is a difficult and exposed climb coming up over Mt Rintoul that I want to tackle fresh in the morning, which is dictating somewhat which huts I want to use; Mt Rintoul Hut is immediately before this climb.

Day 54 - St Arnaud to Porters Creek Hut, 27.7km, 7 hours

Today I started my journey through the Richmond Ranges. After stopping for breakfast in St Arnaud I headed up the road towards the Red Hills, the entry point to the Richmond's.

After 11km of road bashing I was into the Red Hills. 
The first section, up to Red Hills Hut, was nice and easy, 5 or so 6 easy kilometres.
The real Richmond's started after the hut, with another 11km of walking to Porters Creek Hut. The track, like the geography it followed, was up and down and all over the place.  Something I suspect I might have to become used to over the next few days. There were labyrinthine valleys and ridges heading off in all directions. It'd be very easy to get lost in here. It made for hard going, negotiating deeply incised side streams, and occasionally traversing or crossing ridge lines.

I've been really looking forward to coming through the Red Hills - I've intended to go tramping in here for many years but never got around to it.  It's a fascinating place. Almost uniquely in New Zealand, the soil is extremely high in iron and other more exotic minerals, such that the bush is stunted like what you get just above the bushline. Certainly I haven't travelled anywhere remotely similar to this in New Zealand. Actually it's rather Australia-esque, especially with the reddish soil and rock.  I found it weird to traverse from one hill to the next, in the process moving from thick beech to stunted bush, like my altitude had changed by a thousand meters within a few steps.

I say it's almost unique to New Zealand, because there is a red mountain down in Fiordland, identical to this Marlborough area. This is no coincidence of course. While they started in the same range, the two areas are on opposite sides of the Alpine fault. Through fault shearing, aka earthquakes, this area has been shunted 1000km north of where it started.
So to the hut. I was hoping for a sunset to illuminate the iron coloured hillsides in red. I got a sunset alright, but it didn't light up the hills for me. Oh well, I still got some decent photos.

Random fact, I'm now in the Motueka River catchment. Man, big catchment, no wonder that river floods so badly. Anyway, the Motueka River runs to the north coast! Another portent of the end (in a good rather than apocalyptic way!).

Hiatus 8 - St Arnaud for 1 day

Staying up the hill a bit at my friend's place has been pretty idyllic. The rain was in today, so largely an inside day. Not that I minded. I had a brief outing to resupply for the Richmond Ranges - the last big push - 8 or so days in the bush.
A bit of a spanner tonight, with the only restaurant in town closed for the night. I couldn't bring myself to eat dehydrated while I was in town. Just as well I'd bought a bag of corn chips. More quality cuisine!

The forecast is good for tomorrow, so on the trail again. Should be beautiful. Should be hard going. Looking forward to it.... Kinda.

Day 53 - John Tait Hut to St Arnaud, 23.5km, 5 hours 30 minutes

An easy day down the Travers Valley to and then along the side of the beautiful Lake Rotoiti.

The day started with an excellent sunrise - the first I've had for a while. I haven't been up early enough to see many, but with car fever kicking in I was keen to get to St Arnaud ASAP. I'd better describe what car fever is. When tramping towards the end of a day it's common to get hut fever - a finite burst of energy when you think the hut is close. It can be devastating when it turns out the hut is further away than you thought. Anyway car fever is just a subset of that - when you are getting near the end a tramp and are looking forward to getting back to the car. In my case there is no car of course, but I've been really looking forward to getting back into cell coverage so I can phone home, and that's been driving me on for a few days.  Long story short, I was on track early!

I was down valley pretty quickly and stopped at Lakehead Hut for an early lunch. I've always been a bit meh about this hut. There is nothing wrong with it per se, but one of the  one of the most beautiful lakes in the country is about 500 meters away, which is enough that it's a pain to go for a swim. What's more, it has one of my favourite huts barely a kilometer away across the river. That hut, Coldwater Hut has it's own jetty, and being constructed from stone is a beautiful hut, if somewhat bastardised by recently having had its porch filled in. It's also aptly named, the Travis River which flows into Lake Rotoiti here is MUCH colder than the rest of the lake. But anyway, I wasn't stopping at Lakehead for anything more than a snack.

I forged on down the side of the lake, a front country bit of track that I finished in little more than an hour passing many overnight and day walkers picking their way across mud and streams rock by rock. I don't bother with that - clump, clump, clump on through. 

I don't know if it's the time of year, but the wasp eradication program seems to be going well.  The forest here is normally abuzz with them, literally, but the forest was peaceful coming through.



And so to St Arnaud, and the point where I leave the last lake on trail.

I'd booked into a hotel in St Arnaud and was in the foyer when I pretty much banged into a work friend who was up at his bach from Motueka. Turns out I got to stay there instead. Thanks Andrew!

Day 52 - West Sabine Hut to John Tait Hut, 13.5km, 6 hours

I am done! ... with my original pair of socks. Having done more than a thousand kilometres they are getting threadbare and have been relegated to hut socks.  My pristine hut socks now get the chance to step up to the plate.

It's Easter weekend - today is Easter Sunday - so I've been sharing the huts with the great unwashed masses. Unfortunately for the great unwashed masses, I am an even more unwashed mass/mess. In any case, being Easter Sunday, I started the morning by going around the hut handing out Easter eggs - there was much gratitude.
Today also marks April Fools and the end of daylight savings. A triple whammy. Normally I love the extra hour of sleep, but it's completely irrelevant to me here - I'm well and truly into the routine of operating with the sun.

Today I had a climb to match the recent Waiau Pass; this time 1000 meters to the Travers - Sabine Saddle.
Maybe I'm getting fit, but it was easy. There were a couple of hundred steep meters close to the bush line, but apart from that nothing to write home about and I did it largely without stopping.

Near the start of the climb the Sabine River is crossed, far above a fearsome chasm. The river can be barely spied in the dark below, but certainly can be heard!


Above the bush line the path of the east and west Sabine Valleys can be easily made out below. My hut from last night is close to the confluence of the two rivers.

The views expand a little further at the saddle itself.  The Arthur Range in behind Motueka can be made out to the northwest - a first visible indication that I'm approaching the north coast!
Then it's down the other side of the into the upper Travers - the top of the Travers River is quite picturesque.


I stopped at Upper Travers Hut, which has sensational views of the saddle, intending to stay the night. After a few hours here and with a dodgy weather forecast for tomorrow, I changed my mind and headed down valley to shorten tomorrow's walking.

The Travers is another beautiful river. The track goes directly beside it - it's quite marvellous. But I was feeling a bit blasé about it. It was a gentler version of my adrenaline filled Sabine walk from yesterday, so perhaps this was inevitable.


There's nothing like a big waterfall to snap the feeling of "I've seen all of this before". The Travers plummets through a gorge, similar to the Sabine from this morning, and exits in this spectacular cascade.


Shortly after I arrived at my accommodation for the night, John Tait Hut. Somehow there was no-one in residence, despite the fact it is only a day's walk from St Arnaud, although 2 people turned up later. Nevertheless after a full hut for each of the last two nights I'm looking forward to a quiet night.

Day 51 - Blue Lake Hut to West Sabine Hut, 6.9km, 2 hours 20 minutes

Both the shortest and the most adrenaline packed day of the walk.

After hard yakka over the pass yesterday, I had been planning a zero day today. After a good sleep I woke to rain, but was feeling good. Normally you might see a day of rain as a chance to hunker down in a hut. However I'd been looking forward to enjoying the lake and the upper Sabine River (Blue Lake is the source for the Sabine). With a day of rain that was now off the cards, and with the hut quickly filling up with easter trampers in early afternoon I decided to head down valley a tad to make tomorrow's walk (another climbing day) shorter.
Heading out you could see why I wasn't keen on toodling around in the Sabine River.


Further down valley there were a number of avalanche zones. Obviously there's no trouble with snow this time of year, but an avalanche zone is also a natural fall line for rocks. With the rain getting heavier, with a consummate risk of rock fall, I was keen to get across these areas pretty quickly, especially when I came across a boulder field with trees snapped off like metaphorical matchsticks.


Not more than a minute later there was a peel somewhat like thunder from high on Mt Franklin. I knew immediately what it was - a boulder had dislodged high on the mountain, anything up to a thousand meters above me - and was heading my way. As the noise grew I backed off watchfully in the probably futile hope that I might be able to dodge it if it came close. With an explosion of noise and water it dropped into the river 50 meters in front of me, sending a plume up to 20 meters into the air. With wide eyes I double timed out of there.


With the rain continuing hard the track was turning into a fairly large stream.
Large side streams were careering into the Sabine with little run-out, requiring a lot of care in their crossing - definitely not the place to lose footing!


The Sabine itself had become a maelstrom. I was keen to stay as far as possible away from it.

I was pleased to see the hut!

Day 50 - Waiau Hut to Blue Lake Hut, 16km, 7 hours

I don't know which got the greater workout today, my legs or the camera. Probably my legs - I was pretty exhausted by the time I finished, in a way I haven't been since the 2200m day on the Motutapu. Certainly it was the most technically difficult day on trail, the most tiring mentally, and up there with the Motutapu day physically.

But I get ahead of myself. I had another fairly sleepless night last night, which is confusing - I was tired enough after a biggish day's walking yesterday and a sleepless night the night before. I'm carrying a bit of a cold picked up from home, but I doubt it's that - I just have a runny nose and not much else. Perhaps the prospect of Waiau Pass today was concerning me.

Starting off up valley it didn't feel like I was climbing, but given the river was a raging torrent beside me, I must have been.
After an hour or so the pass was revealed. If looked very bluffy.

Moving up river there was some difficult loose scree to traverse dropping away at 30+ degrees down to the river. As I made my way across numerous stones and boulders would cascade into the Waiau 20 meters below me. It made for nervous, exhausting and dangerous times. It took me 15 minutes to get across 100 metres of it, and this was still on approach to beginning the proper climb!



As the steeper stuff towards the pass began, the Waiau River was now less that than just a series of spectacular cascades. It made quite the place to celebrate crossing the 1000km milestone.


The pass was a formidable sight; an unbroken line of enormous cliffs and bluffs with no immediately discernable easy, or even safe, line of attack.

However the lower 400 meters of climbing turned out to be not so bad. The top 400 meters was much more technical though, at least in a tramping sense. I'd probably characterise it as low grade rock climbing; requiring careful line selection, 3 points of contact, thought given to hand holds, the odd toe jam and even a mini chimney. Difficult stuff with a heavy pack on. Fortunately it was good, stable rock and not slippery. The exposure was also pretty minimal. Nevertheless the concentration required here actually made the effort of climbing easier - the meters to the top melted away through this section.


I reached the top in time for lunch, once again on the main divide and this time also on the dividing line between Canterbury and the Nelson Lakes, and at 1880m the second highest point on trail.
I was able to enjoy views south down the Waiau Valley, where I had come from...

...and north down to Lake Constance which I would shortly be dropping down to.


The descent was largely scree. I expected an easy drop down to the valley floor by skiing it. These plans dissolved when I ended up on my bum 2 or 3 times, then in an uncontrolled slide with a mildly banged up elbow and a massive hole in the bum of my shorts. It was just too steep and reluctantly I went back to knee bashing down the track.  I was pleased to reach the valley floor.


After a swim to dust off in Lake Constance I continued on, up onto some bluffs skirting high above the lake. This was difficult travel after the arduous pass, albeit provided some great views down to the lake.

Across the lake there is an enormous scarp where a large part of Mt Franklin has at some point in the past few thousand years fallen to the valley floor, blocking it and forming the lake. The trail goes across the literal mountain of stone that fell, and washed wave like up the other side of the valley. If you ever wanted to know what the inside of a mountain looks like, here you go.


From the edge of the scarp I had a view of the ethereal Blue Lake. Lake Constance, a couple of hundred meters above it, does not have an outflow point. Instead there is a spring in the scree wall that blocks Constance, which then flows into Blue Lake. This scree filtering results in exceptionally clear water. In fact Blue Lake has recently replaced Pupu Springs as having the greatest clarity in the world.  It has been measured as having a view distance of 80 meters, theoretically the same as pure distilled water. If you ask me the recently discovered Lake Vostock, or whatever it is called, down in Antarctica, which has been covered in ice for millions of years would have to be clearer, but I guess maybe they haven't measured it yet.  Certainly both Lake Constance and the Blue Lake are clear enough to be able to easily pick out individual rocks lying on the lake bed, when perched high above them.


And so to the hut and a much needed rest. I sewed my shorts up. How to describe my sewing skills? Let's just say that if I was a surgeon my patients would be left with horribly disfiguring scars. Needless to say my shorts are now looking decidedly second hand.