This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
Editor
I have to tell you a story about a recent weekend I had in the Tararuas, where I learnt that you should never underestimate the Tararua Forest Park, the fact that you are insignificant and at the mercy of whatever it decides to throw at you.
gS =.
My sister had agreed to become a checkpoint for an Adventure Race, and to be stationed at Cow Creek Hut. She asked me to accompany her and I agreed, and not having been to Cow Creek before — though I have come close —| consulted the map. The obvious way in appeared to be starting at Mt Bruce and taking the track that hugs the Ruamahanga River. ‘No problem’ was my reaction, it’s all flat!! How often do you get that in the Tararuas? Furthermore, there appeared to be no obvious obstacles to negotiate.
So we departed on Saturday morning, relaxed and happy. The drive over the Rimutakas was straightforward, the weather and forecast satisfactory. We did however have to call into the Mt Bruce Wildlife Centre for some directions, because the turnoff from SH2 is very poorly marked. There’s no long winding gravel road required to be driven for this tramp and we set off on foot mid-morning. The first part involves a lot of farmland to cross, and in fact we came across the farmer. He shook his head and gave us the impression he was thinking ‘what are you doing?’, especially when my sister announced our aim of reaching the Hut at 3pm. However we carried on, wondering what the hell we were in for. We immediately got lost, by following a pink ribbon tied to a tree next to a track. A reasonable way to go you might think, but it lead us down to the river, and it was a dead end. So back up the hill and onto the vehicle track. We then turned onto a vehicle track which had an orange DOC marker next to it, which was slightly broken. Way up the hill and leaving the river behind, it became increasingly obvious we had taken the wrong way again. So back to the broken orange marker, and round the next corner was a whole orange marker and the correct track. More farmland to cross and it was ages before we finally reached the forest boundary. For a while the track is good, similar to what I had imagined it would be. We enjoyed lunch at a nice setting where the river flowed in a U-shape. Then it started raining. We arrived at a beautiful clearing with an interesting variety of small plants and mosses on rocks, which I couldn’t really enjoy fully, because it had become very difficult to locate the track, the orange markers being few and far between. Wearing a big raincoat hood certainly didn’t help to maximise visibility when searching for the next marker. Perhaps in a group of six or eight it would surely have been easier to locate markers, but there was just two of us and it was quite challenging. What I found most frustrating was when I was following an orange marker pointing clearly into the bush, with no more to be found, while my sister had found a marker some distance away in the creek bed. There’s only one track on the map but in reality there appeared to be twol! What do you do? We took the creek bed way, as we had found another marker further up. But it wasn’t over. A bit further on a slip had wiped out part of the track, and we just couldn’t find the next marker. It was then that it hit home that we could very easily be spending a night out in the bush. It was nearly 4pm now, and we only had a couple of hours daylight left. There was no chance of retracing our steps back to the carpark, it was too far to go and trying to find the way with only torch light would have been impossible.
The golden rule of course is to never leave the last known orange marker until the next one is found, and from this base we searched in all directions for ages until we finally found the next marker. A bit further on and we were able to identify that we had reached Cow Saddle, where I spotted a couple of deer, for just a couple of seconds before they sprinted off into the bush. This is the first time I’ve seen deer in five years of tramping in the Tararuas! We crossed a new bridge to Cow Creek Hut, arriving at 4.45pm. There were 3 trampers already there, in this well maintained standard six bunk hut. My sister then pulled out her mountain radio, and I was surprised that something so relatively light and compact was able to function so well. The male tramper in the Hut was delighted to help my sister set it up (I collapsed on the nearest seat), which involved stretching out two lengths of wire in opposite directions for about twenty metres. She then checked in to Base, and we set up the refreshments for the adventure racers as they came through. And it was only about half an hour when the race leaders had arrived. The TimTams were a big hit, all the particulars duly noted in the book and they were away after a few minutes. A couple more groups had checked in before we went to bed mid-evening. Except for my sister who was on call throughout the night. The other trampers who had probably expected a quiet weekend had no idea what they were in for, but they were most interested in what was going on. I heard other groups call in close to midnight, my sister said that the later it got the more the groups were feeling exhausted and wishing it was over. My own personal opinion is that this sort of running around in the dark in the Tararuas while raining is quite simply insanity. On Sunday morning, the other trampers departed on the Blue Range track, the same way they had come in, having experienced the whirlwind of a personality that is my sister. Rest assured they weren't shattered by the experience, because my sister had kept the late arrivals out of the hut, and there were no arrivals after midnight. We contacted Base and arranged a pick up at the Kiriwhakapapa road end so that we could avoid tramping out the way we had come in. We had to wait until 11am because one group hadn't shown up. They didn’t show and were later helicoptered out. The walk up to Blue Range is your typical Tararua hill, that is, damn hard work. At the top we had some lunch, and walked along Blue Range. It was a slight disappointment that we had half killed ourselves getting up this hill and there was only a tiny clearing which offered some views of the majestic Cattle Ridge and back along the ridgetop. The ridge started increasing in slope and my sister was beginning to show signs of exhaustion, not surprising at all given her lack of sleep. It was extremely good timing that one of the race organizers showed up, having raced up the other side of the hill, as they do, and exchanged packs so that my sister was carrying virtually nothing. This meant that we were able to pick up the pace quite dramatically and we were at Kiriwnakapapa mid-afternoon.
Michael
All contributions & suggestions welcome newsletter @ wtmc.org.nz Or snail mail!