This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
he view from my desk at
‘T iisent: is across the river flats to a point some ten kilometres away where the Godley River flows into Lake Tekapo. In quiet moments at work, I had developed a fascination with its moods, colours and many changes, and set out to explore its source.
The river is a classic New Zealand braided river up to 114 kilometres wide in places with a short steep catchment which makes it prone to rapid and furious changes of flow.
Navigation here is uncomplicated. The streams which enter the main valley are marked by DOC signs. Travel is easy, the gradient being barely noticeable. This is true alpine valley tramping with the footing varying from deep swamp to boulders of all sizes covered in an amazing array of lichens. The valley walls rise steeply to sheer rock bluffs interspersed with massive scree slopes. Occasional shaded damp spots yield alpine vegetation to delight any botanist. Sadly, the valley floor is liberally covered in the pernicious weed, heiracium.
RCV has taken its toll here, and while there are still plenty of — healthy bunnies doing their bunny thing, the corpses probably out number the live ones. Time will tell just what the long-term effect of this disease will be.
Birdlife is abundant. Geese honk their noisy protest at the invasion of their patch; likewise the quieter Paradise ducks. A colony of terns screech and wheel their way above me. Their nests are near impossible to spot in the speckled, lichen-strewn, stony river bed. I hoped I wouldn’t stand on any by mistake, but the chances seemed remote in this vast stretch of gravel.
Pied stilts were less numerous in the higher reaches of the valley, but it was good to see them holding their own. Several other species were busy nesting here, and I made a mental note to buy a good bird book when I next visit civilisation. My journey continued past the remains of long-destroyed huts, remnants of the era when merinos were the economic backbone of the property, and mustering the high snowgrass basins was a challenge of logistics and the fortitude of high country men and women of that time.
A faded lichen-covered sign announced that I had entered Mount Cook National Park. The glacier which dominates the head of the valley came into sight, and the might of Mts D’Archiac, Wolseley, Loughnan and their neighbours rose steeply from the valley floor. There was more snow up here, and the stillness of the morning was broken by the sound of ava- I lanches thundering high above. I travelled on past Red Stag Hut, optimistically named by the hunters who frequent this area. It is a quaint structure, all odd angles with tiny doors and windows, equipped in the typically South Island style with fifty lamps, cookers and an array of cooking utensils worthy of any junk shop. On passing the McKinnon Stream exit higher up the valley I made a mental note to come back one day with a better map and more time to explore. My aim on this trip was to reach the head of the valley, and visit the lake I had read about. By now I was off my map and heading for the foot of the glacier which had been visible for some hours. This is a classic New Zealand glacier, with moraine rocks piled high and in various stages of their geological change to river gravel and sand. I spent several delightful hours exploring the area, throwing rocks at the icebergs and clambering around the edge of the lake. The brilliant blue of Lake Tekapo some 35 kilometres away is generated here, as rock is ground relentlessly by the journey of the glacier. The water which flows out of the glacier lake is silver grey in colour and tastes like cement. The mighty Godley is only a few metres wide at this point, but already busy and noisy as it starts on its way to the lake. Playtime over it was time to head off down the river, this time following the true right bank. Comfortable campsites were plentiful further down the valley. That evening as I sheltered in my pit from the hordes of insects I watched the sun desert the peaks opposite, leaving them basking in a rosy glow. It was a magnificent sight, and one which made me determined to visit again.
Continued on Page 8
Trip Reports
From Page 7 The next day left me with an easy wander out to the lodge, so I took my time visiting the huts along the way. They are all well cared for and well used by 4WDers and mountain bikers as well as the Godley Peaks Station stockmen for whom they were first built.
This is an area of enormous variety. To be surrounded by so many peaks, all achievable climbs, is awe inspiring. Though 4WD tracks reach nearly to the head of the valley, their presence does not necessarily detract from the wilderness qualities of the region.
Allow several days when you plan your visit, more if you are planning some climbs. There is an Alpine Club hut well placed at the foot of the glacier and ample camping. Well worth keeping in mind for a visit to a special out of the way corner of New Zealand.
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Marilyn Duffy