An extended version of the northern crossing of the Tararua Ranges.
Ssssuck. The sound of my boot extracting from another micro-swamp, as Simon Williamson and I slithered our way up Gable End Ridge. After four or so hours we had reached the highest section of the ridge. At 900 metres the trees were stunted, permitting glimpses of Waiopehu Hut, nestled a little beneath the apex of the adjacent ridge to the west. It was drissling, adding to the muddy conditions. Worst mud I have seen in the Tararuas I reckon cursed Simon. Sure hope this does not persist higher up, I replied. Hopefully once we pass the Te Araroa Trail branch this mud-fest will relent.
We would not find out about that until the next day. For now our objective was Te Matawai Hut, perched on a level section of ridge at 900 metres, beyond Butcher Saddle. The saddle required giving up 300 metres of hard-won height and, descending in the muted conditions seemed to accentuate the injustice of the descent. We both knew well that winning the Tararua tops is about persistence, so a couple of hours later we trudged onto the deck of Te Matawai Hut – my first time there, so a reason to revisit hutbagger.co.nz on my return.
We had been stalking Metservice for nearly two months leading up to this trip. The weather had been so unsettled that a window just would not open for us. But now, just before Christmas, from the deck we enjoyed a striptease act laid on by Lancaster and Pukematawai just to the east of us, as clouds seductively fell away from their naked flanks, indicating that the forecast was coming good. The next two days – when we would be almost exclusively on the highest of the Tararua tops – would be clear, with a nice touch of southerly air-conditioning.
It was great to be up in the hills just before Christmas, but we felt pangs of guilt. Simon’s partner Caro, as much a hill-lover as us, could not join us due to work commitments, but she had selflessly dropped us off at the road end just south-east of Levin, and had agreed to collect us again at the Holdsworth Road-end three days later. Her only request – “Just don’t brag about it when I see you next.”
Neither Simon nor I had completed a northern crossing of the Tararua Ranges. We had both done a southern crossing long ago. That route seems to be the best known, but many other trips into the Tararuas since then had revealed to us that this northern route would be even more spectacular. Up the northern end reside virtually all the highest points in these ranges. Of the fifteen points shown on topo maps as at least 1,500 metres high, our route would climb over eight of them.
The clouds had all but dissolved as we set off in fresh morning conditions. The mud remained until a little before the TA turn-off, then for the rest of our trip conditions underfoot were surprisingly dry. Soon we were over Pukematawai and making our way along a craggy section of ridge beneath Arete, our first “fifteen-hundreder”. Up on Arete the air was crystal clear and the southerly breeze gentle and cooling – perfect Tararua tops conditions. The intimidating bulk of Bannister loomed to our left as we dropped down to Arete Biv for morning tea.
I had been to the biv just once before, having come up over Bannister alone a few years back. My dawn recollections still come to me vividly and the biv became one of my favourite shelters in the Tararua Ranges. “Whoa! What have we here then?” Simon was impressed as he stood on top of the northern-most bit of the Waiohine Pinnacles. “I have never even heard of these guys. They look as impressive as anything else I have seen up in these ranges.” The next 200 or so metres of descent required focus, but at least at their southern end they morphed into the gentle rolling terrain of Tarn Ridge.
Later we climbed again, up past the memorial and grave site and over a tussocky mound to see Tarn Ridge Hut appear below us. Nestled just below the ridgeline in a little dip, with Girdlestone towering above to the south-east, the hut commands a superb view north to the Twins and Bannister. The nearby loo has an even better view.
Being the only ones there, we enjoyed a peaceful afternoon and I got pretty excited about the sunset, as seen from above the hut. We knew we had plenty of work to do next day before we met Caro at the far end.
As we neared the top of Girdlestone, below us on Dorset Ridge a tiny yellow dot appeared, making impressively quick progress in our direction. David, a 67 year-old just-retired doctor from Hamilton caught up to us while we marvelled at the clarity of the air from Girdlestone. We could easily see Tapuae-o-Uenuku, Taranaki, Ruapehu and Ngauruhoe – perhaps the clearest views I have ever enjoyed from the Tararua tops.
We bid farewell to David at Mid King, where he headed down ridge to Mitre Flats. Four hours after departing Tarn Ridge Hut we reached South King and, though the tiny white dot of Jumbo Hut still looked a very long way away, we felt that we still had plenty of time to go that way. “So, time for the Broken Axe Pinnacles then eh Simon.”
Moments later we stood at the base of the crux. “I reckon we COULD do it,” I said “but if we DID fall it would NOT be pretty. That final sheer, unvegetated section at the top is sending me a back-off signal.” Simon agreed. “Yeah, it’s not as if we HAVE to do it, the detour is there for a reason eh.” So we went left, not up. The detour led around to the other end of the crux fin, then the rest of the trail went over the remaining pinnacles – enough fun for these two trampers.
By mid afternoon we stood on McGregor, our seventh fifteen-hundreder. Angle Knob, our eighth, was not far off to the south. Now the southerly had all but died away and it was hot. The views in all directions remained beautiful, but we were starting to get that “give me a cold beer” feeling.
Simon is a sixty-year-old whippet, so with the end in sight, he shot off ahead of me as we set off from Atiwhakatu Hut. I reached the road-end after 11 hours on the move, just as Caro drove in to the carpark. Life was good.
Peter Laurenson – www.occasionalclimber.co.nz