This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
LABOUR WEEKEND 23 - 25 OCTOBER 1993
TRIP LEADER: Allen Higgins
PARTICIPANTS: Peggy, Daniel, Tod, Angela, Shane, Karyn, Sue, and Merv (Scribe). Living in Island Bay, the view from my front window is across Cook Strait to the South Island. On clear, cold days the snow covered Kaikouras loom up on the flat horizon. I had always looked across wondering about climbing Tapuaenuky, which roughly translates as the "sacred footprints of rainbow’ and represents the boundary between the -Ngai-Tahu in-the-south-and_-the northern Maori-tribes-of the SouthIsland. As amatter of interest; itis the place where the first climbing fatality in New Zealand was recorded when a Maori was killed while guiding a party, and where Sir Edmund Hillary played when he lived in the area. In short, tapuaenuku seemed to have a special significance. The opportunity arose to go into the area when I attended the open night for the Club in October. In a few weeks time Allen Higgins was leading a trip to Tapuaenuku and I managed to get my name on the list. After several brief meetings to sort out the arrangements I found myself at a crowded ferry terminal on the Friday evening of Labour Weekend. The prediction was for good weather and it looked as though half the other passengers had climbing gear, and we were headed for mountains in the South Island. If we were all going to the same place it was going to be a crowded weekend indeed!
As the ferry steamed out of the harbour, past Island Bay into the sunset, the South Island looked only a short distance away. Three hours later, most of it spent standing in a din of noise, it seemed like we would never arrive there. Finally we did and after a considerable wait looking at indistinguishable backpacks pass by on the conveyor belt, we all collected our gear, hopped into a waiting taxi and sped off into the night to find Shane, Karyn, and Angela who were to meet us in Blenheim. They had been biking in the South Island for the last week and spent the past few hours conducting a careful sociological study of the locals who frequented the filling station where we arranged to pick them up. When we arrived it was getting cold and I think they were glad to see us. After loading their assorted plastic bags into the taxi, we headed for the famous hay barn belonging to the Pitt's which is located at the beginning of the walk up the Hodder River. We arrived at the hay barn around midnight I think. There were already people there and soon after our anival another large group arrived. Eventually everyone sorted themselves out and we bedded down for the night. The next morning Mrs Pitt came down to check us out. She was not impressed that one of the groups (not ours!) had not asked to use the hay barn or made arrangements to cross their farm. They expect this as a courtesy and in the interests of keeping access to the area open they should be contacted beforehand. The telephone number is (03) 575-7471. As predicted it was clear and promised to be warm. We were away by 8am and the sun wasn't far behind us. After about a three quarter hour walk across the farm we descended to the river to begin the walk up to "base camp". The route is marked frequently by rock cairns which extend all the way to the snowline. Despite a fairly warm day, the river had to be crossed every few minutes. We were lucky that it was low but it got colder and my feet were numbed as we made our way up it. Angela counted 90+ crossings to the huts. Along the way we stopped for a leisurely lunch just below the waterfall about an hour below the huts. Everyone took off their boots to warm their feet in the sun. After lunch it was into the scrub and up a hill away from the river to circumvent the waterfall. Of particular interest along this route were the native Matagouri (Discaria toumatou) and Spaniard (Aciphylia squarrosa) plants. They were both new to me and I found them reminiscent of spiky desert plants. Higher up the Matagouri would fade away to be replaced by patches of an alpine moss. Although I understand the Spaniard is under threat it remained present and continued bloodying my hands this day and the next two as well. We had intended stopping above the waterfall to camp at the traditional spot that had been used before the huts were built, but as it was only about 2pmin the aftemoon when we arrived, the vote was to carry on up to the huts. Upon arriving at the huts, we found the old one sleeps six and the newer one sleeps nine. As there were signs of only two occupants in the larger, we moved in and spent the remainder of the aftemoon relaxing and preparing for the next day. Later in the evening, the other two occupants arrived back windblown from the summit of Tapuaenuku. Next moming we awoke to another brilliant day. Over breakfast Tod casually mentioned that he had seen the Kea that had been hanging around making off with someone's boot. A moment of inner panic ensued. This was the first time I'd come across Keas and I hadn't thought about bringing my boots inside. Not only that - they were rentals! A quick lunge through the door to check. Whew, they were still there! Leaving the hut, we made our way along the stream with a couple more crossings before leaving it to follow a rocky track for about an hour to the snowline. Off to the right Mt Alarm was visible with its prominent couloir. Ahead of us lay the snowfield on the southwest side of Tapuaenuku that would take us most of the way to the top. The sun hadn't started melting the snow and the conditions were good. We stopped for moming tea after reaching the top of the snowfield, left our packs, and followed a ridge to the summit. There was some light sastrugi along the ridge and no wind at the top. Obligatory photos were taken and we basked in the sun for a while. The views were fantastic. The south-east side of the ridge dropped away dramatically to the Clarence River with the Seaward Kaikouras interrupting the edge of the South Pacific ocean. To the south Mt Alarmemerged from clouds and to thenorth Blenheim stretching into Wellington which was obscured by a cloud bank. Finally we were forced to descend with the arrival of more parties. By the time we had recovered our packs, had lunch, and returned to the top of the snowfield, the snow on the south-west slope was turning to mush. We descended cautiously to below the col where Angela decided to self arrest down the remainder of the slope. Having seen her arrive safely at the bottom after a few minutes (approximately a two and a half hour climb up) everyone took the plunge.
Certainly the longest slide Ive ever had and I had to roll onto my sides because of the cold. As we were down much earlier than expected, following Allen's lead, we found a spot in the sun and lay around in the tussock until the cloud coming off Mt Alarm eventually coaxed us to move on to the hut. Next moming, up at the crack of dawn with a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday" for Peggy. Breakfasted, and packed we started back down the Hodder stopping at the waterfall to have a quick peek over the edge, then back over the hill and into the gorge proper. The crossings seemed closer together and I remember wondering if it was possible to get frostbite in moving water. We moved down to within about 10 minutes of the farm track and as we were in good time again took a leisurely lunch. With the sun once again high in the sky, Angela, Tod, Daniel, and Karyn took a courageous dip in the river before we left it to make our way back along the farm track. The taxi arrived soon after we reached the hay bam and we drove back along the Awatere River to the main road and on to Picton. After checking our bits and pieces at the ferry terminal it was on to a local restaurant for some sustenance and Peggy's birthday cake complete with candles supplied by Daniel. A perfect end to a good Labour Weekend. My thanks to Allen for organising the logistics and to everyone for making it a great trip.