Wellington Anniversary Weekend meant an opportunity to have a slightly longer trip in the Tararuas than the usual weekend, and we used it to visit the middle part of the main range, beginning from Otaki Forks and ending at Poads Road near Levin. The forecast leading up to the weekend was uninspiring, suggesting several large splodges of rain would position themselves all over the lower North Island, especially on Saturday, but perhaps clearing a little after that. There was no forecast of strong wind and we went ahead with the plan, but somehow boasting about a lack of strong wind didn’t convince my work-mates not to laugh at me when I left to visit the Tararuas on Friday night.

Dates: 22nd – 25th Jaunary, 2010 (Wellington Anniversary Weekend)
Location: Tararua Forest Park, Otaki Forks to Poads Road.
People: Amanda, Richard, Tim and me.
Huts visited: Waitewaewae Hut (0 nights), Nichols Hut (1 night), Dracophyllum Biv (0 nights), Te Matawai Hut (1 night), South Ohau Hut (0 nights).
Route: Walk up Saddle Creek and camp on the plateau, then past Waitewaewae Hut and over Shoulder Knob to Nichols Hut for the next night. Then to Te Matawai Hut via Pukematawai, and out to Poads Road via the South Ohau River.
[Photos]
[Download GPX] [Show map] [Display in new window]

We left a van at Otaki Forks a little after 8pm, intending to swap it with another group on their way along Oriwa Ridge. A few others had signed the intentions book so we weren’t the only people braving the rain, but most going elsewhere. The only people who’d written about going our way, up towards Waitewaewae, having left earlier in the afternoon, had abruptly scribbled out their plans for a 4 day trip and written OUT. Apparently they’d changed their mind for some reason.

With an hour of light left and wanting to get ahead of the rain, the four of us began walking towards Waitewaewae with an idea of camping on the plateau above Saddle Creek. Despite the rainy forecast, it was still a calm evening without much rain scheduled until early morning. The only small delay was around the significant active slip on the Waitewaewae track, but we figured it out after a few minutes. The last light of the day held out until we were well into trees near Saddle Creek, and from then on we walked with torches. In this creek in the past, during the daytime, I’ve found it easier to simply walk up the creek than to figure out the entire criss-crossing track, though I think it’s a personal preference. By torchlight I think we all decided it was much easier to stay on the track as much as possible. This track is also much more steep than I remembered it. I was too busy looking at the ground ahead of me to properly notice, but others in the party reported that Saddle Creek seems to be a haven for glow-worms. We reached our camp-site at 11pm, which thankfully wasn’t too sodden, and set ourselves up for the night.

The Otaki River, just
past Waitewaewae Hut.

Next morning I found I was apparently the only person to have had a reasonable sleep, and I still didn’t think there had been enough of it. Up at 7am, the forecast rain was yet to begin, although the tent flies were sodden. We were packed and leaving by 8, towards Waitewaewae Hut before continuing on to Nichols for the night. We stopped briefly at Waitewaewae, 90 minutes later, where we met a chap who’d walked in and arrived the previous night. He had an optimistic plan to head up to Te Matawai Hut, then down the entire Otaki River, apparently oblivious to the amount of humidity in the air. Despite declaring his plans he didn’t exactly seem in a rush to go anywhere, and as we left at 10am, he returned to his sleeping bag.

Richard on the way up to Shoulder Knob.

It turns out to be quite a big slog up to Shoulder Knob, which is at the bush-line. It’s a 900 metre climb, taking us 3 hours in all, including an odd stop along the way. We were greeted at the top by a voodoo-doll-like statue tied to the pole on the knob, just one of those semi-weird things in the back-country that I’ve trained myself to appreciate.

Tim borrowed my camera and snapped this
rare photo at Junction Knob which actually
has me in it.

Visibility had dropped as we approached the bush-line, and soon after leaving it we were in at least 3/4 storm gear, with the cold wind coming from the south. Actually the whole thing was very confusing, especially with no rain. It all felt like sou-easterlies but was difficult to tell, so with wind going clockwise around low pressure, perhaps the system we’d expected had gone further north? We were guessing in any case, but as time went on it was all so dramatically inconsistent with reality that we leaned towards throwing out what we knew of the following days, and just focused on getting between points of safety, the next of which was to be Nichols Hut. The wind was still fairly light, and that was the critical thing at the time.

Tim shelters from the wind below Mt
Crawford as he waits for us to arrive.

We arrived at Junction Knob just before 2pm, the point on the Tararua Main Range between Nichols and Anderson Hut, where the signpost informed us that our destination for the evening was but 90 minutes away. For the remainder of the day, we continued along the main range with about 30 metres visibility, tolerating light but icy winds from the south-east between the occasional eddies and sheltered spots. The high point along here is Mount Crawford (1482), ceremoniously marked with a short drainpipe poking out of the ground. For a few minutes we accidentally began to head down the wrong spur off Crawford, but managed to catch it once the route dissipated more than seemed reasonable and we noticed the bearing didn’t appear quite right. In the end, including this detour, it took us 2 hours from Junction Knob before we reached Nichols Hut just off the eastern side of the ridge, and it was a good sight.

Amanda followed by Richard.

The door of Nichols had been barricaded on the outside with a saw-horse, and we soon found this was because the door wasn’t clicking shut properly. A couple of notes in the book indicated that the door had been discovered swinging open when people had shown up. Tim and Richard got a fire going, and we settled into an entree of cheese and crackers, followed by Amanda’s design of yummy Chorizo Couscous.

Nichols Hut.

The hut literature at Nichols was unexpected, especially the collection of 4 wheel drive magazines given that they were at a hut at 1242 metres altitude on the Tararua Main Range. Unfortunately not much to read, in any case. The picture magazines weren’t too enlightening either, though the latest Hunting & Fishing catalogue was advertising one of the funniest looking gun-wielding swamp monster outfits I’ve ever seen. Heavy rain finally arrived at 8.30pm, just after we’d gone to bed and almost 24 hours later than we expected. It also stopped well short of what we’d expected, only raining on and off and with nothing sustained. No wind either, though I guess Nichols is reasonably sheltered given that it’s not tied to the ground as some nearby huts are, and we fortunately had no issues with the door swinging open.

The main range north of Nichols.

Rain had stopped by 6.45am when Amanda dragged herself out of a sleeping bag on the lower bunk and started a billy boiling. We packed up, feasted on brekkie, and I took a few photos of the door latch to forward to DOC at a later date. We also hunted around for replacement firewood, which was difficult. For future reference I’d suggest that anyone visiting Nichols Hut from the northern direction should grab an arm-load of firewood as they leave the bush-line, only about 5 minutes away. We re-barricaded the door, and at a relaxed 8.45am, we left. Once again it was quite a dreary day outside, with thick cloud and little visibility.

Figuring out a route around Kelleher.

The light but icy wind was now coming from the west, for whatever reason, and we’d given up on trying to figure out how it related to the models issued a couple of days earlier. Wind wasn’t as much of a concern just now, anyway, because about 5 minutes north of Nichols Hut the Tararua Main Range dips into the bush-line. It stays there for some time, except for a brief 100 metre emergence to sidle around the eastern side of a peak called Kelleher (1152), which after 90 minutes appeared high and some distance before us. We continued past an obvious track marker below Kelleher, then sat down in a sheltered area for a quick snack, and to figure out which of the apparent routes ahead was most likely to be the intended track. Amanda and I eventually took alternative parallel options along the slope, both ending up on a short west to east spur.

From here it wasn’t clear at all, but through the thick cloud it looked as if we could head towards a little knob not far away, and it’d sidle around Kelleher nicely. Moving to the knob, however, there didn’t seem to be any emergence of Kelleher behind it as we’d expected, even after checking where it should be with a compass bearing, which was actually fairly disorienting. By now we should have been able to see a clear outline, or upward-sloping ground, or something to indicate the presence of anything other than a void directly beyond in a westerly direction. I guess thick cloud can do strange things to perception on the tops. It makes nearby things seem far away, and short climbs appear much further than they actually are, and on occasions like this it causes trampers to summit peaks like Kelleher completely accidentally. Having eliminated the alternatives, and confirming suspicions with a quick reference to a GPS, we eventually determined we were 200 metres off the side of the route we wanted along the range, and re-traced our steps. At least we didn’t waste another two hours heading down the far side, which is what a couple of people writing in the Nichols Hut book had indicated they’d done.

Back-tracking to the previous marker we’d seen prior to having even sat down, and taking another look around, we quickly spotted a giant cairn that led straight back into the dracophyllum. Just over an hour further of walking, we arrived at Dracophyllum Biv, a cute 2 person hut under the trees. It’s also well tied to the ground despite being surrounded by trees, presumably for good reason. We stopped for lunch.

Arriving at Dracophyllum.

It’d taken around 3 hours to reach our lunch spot, the track being peppered with many peaks and ongoing undulation. We thought the next section would be similar, being roughly the same length before emerging from the bush-line, but northwards from Dracophyllum Biv was much faster. An hour or so later we were emerging into more leatherwood and dracophyllum, eventually back into nice alpine scrub. It still wasn’t exactly raining, either, which didn’t stop us from becoming saturated thanks to the fog of tiny hovering water particles that weren’t massive enough to figure out whether they should obey the force of gravity or the force of the up-draft blowing over the ridge. For the length on the tops we could clearly hear the Park River, 300 metres below to the east, and had the cloud lifted we’d have been opposite Carkeek Ridge. We never saw further than about 50 metres, however.

Tim approches the turn-off near Pukematawai.

The main range leading north-wards to Pukematawai undulates with several spot heights, each of which appeared distant, high and ominous, but all of which we found to be much quicker and easier to ascend and overtake than it had first appeared through the deceptively thick cloud… probably because we rarely saw far ahead in the first place. At 3pm we reached a collection of stakes poking out of the ground, just short of Pukematawai, and marking the turn-off point down towards Te Matawai Hut. At Amanda’s suggestion, we stopped on the sheltered side of the ridge for a few minutes and put on over-trousers, in anticipation of being about to walk directly into the freezing westerly wind. It was worth it, too, even just for the first few minutes during which we were most exposed.

Amanda ready to leave.

From here it was time to say goodbye to the main range. When there’s more than a 500 metre vertical drop in the space of about 2.5 kilometres, a track will generally be steep. The last stage of our day therefore became a controlled slippery slide down through the mud to Te Matawai Hut, the highlight of which was the first sign of our entire tramp of the sun finally coming out. It didn’t expose itself completely, but as we left the cloud layer on the main range, we did finally get a vague warmth forcing its way through some clouds above us. At one brief moment, there was even a small patch of blue sky. It wasn’t until a couple of hours later, however, standing on the deck of Te Matawai Hut with most of our clothes and gear hanging out in an optimistic attempt to dry them out, that some cloud properly lifted for a few minutes revealing large amounts of the main range in the distance, over which we’d spent our entire day. Much of the range is obscured by trees from Te Matawai Hut, but we could almost see as far back as Dracophyllum Biv, and the undulating shape of the ridge that we’d noticed now made complete visual sense.

The first blue sky of our weekend.

The main range finally emerged.

Tim managed to get another fire going after some effort, and over time we hung out much of our gear inside, actually being able to get it reasonably dry on this occasion. Te Matawai Hut perhaps doesn’t get as many visitors as its size implies. It’s very large as huts go, yet every time I’ve visited (this was the third) there’s been nobody else. On this occasion it also had much better reading material, including a bunch of old FMC Bulletins. I got the one in which several people had written in to comment about an incorrect answer for question 10 in the quiz of a previous bulletin. It was something about the name of a certain kind of 3-pronged nail that was once used in climbing boots.

After more cheese and crackers, we settled into a nice dinner of a certain kind of satay noodle recipe that Amanda had dreamed up. We’d just gone to bed at 9pm, and it wasn’t long after that when we heard someone enter and walk around a little. They weren’t there in the morning and never wrote in the book, but it appeared as if there was at least one other person wandering around. Perhaps they were on their way up to Arete Biv, or somewhere nearby to camp. Weird — I’m not used to people who aren’t me walking into huts at night.

Heading downstairs on Monday morning.

Our last day was a straightforward walk down the Ohau River. We were away shortly after 8am, and 90 minutes later following a skid further down the hill, arrived at the new South Ohau Hut. Last time I’d been here there was nothing but the fireplace of the old hut, which is appropriately the location of the new hut’s woodshed. South Ohau actually looks really nice, and it’d be easy to spend a few days relaxing there. Not being in any rush, we hung around for half an hour before beginning our walk down the river.

South Ohau Hut from near the river.

The South Ohau River itself is a slightly gorgey river, and even when it’s low as it was on this occasion it has a few tricky sections. If it were up even 20 centimetres further, it’s likely some parts would be waist deep (as Richard had experienced a few months before), and beyond that it could be very challenging if possible to follow at all. This morning however, it just took time. It took 90 minutes to reach Deception Spur, where the South Ohau meets the North Ohau, and we stopped briefly for our final lunch. The remainder of our river walk, about the same distance again but much more easily navigable, towards where it meets the track out to Poads Road, took only half that time.

Just over an hour later, having walked the last section of track as well as having met the second and third people we’d talked to in three days — a couple out for a short daywalk — we were standing next to our van at the end of the Poads Road entrance to the Tararuas, nice and early to beat the holiday weekend traffic.

The South Ohau River.

The last time I visited Waitewaewae Hut (aka YTYY), I was on my first ever trip with the Wellington Tongue and Meats. This had been the easy-rated trip up Saddle Creek from Otaki Forks, and considering Andrew was in charge, I think as many people had gone for the cooking as for the walking. With a large group of 12 people, the track that was signposted as 4 hours ended up taking us more than 7, and several people on their first ever tramp were feeling almost dead at the end of it.

This weekend there was another group from the club doing a similar trip to what I’d done earlier, but personally I was in a separate trip coming into Waitewaewae from the other end. Our basic plan was to start from the Waikawa Stream, meet the other group at the hut on Saturday night, and then we’d all walk back to Otaki Forks on the Sunday.

Dates: 8th-10th February, 2008
Location: Tararua Forest Park, North Manakau Road to Otaki Forks.
People: Steve, Lesley, Kerry, Marie, Andy, Sylvia, Dave, Sue, Allen and me.
Huts visited: Waitewaewae Hut (1 night).
Intended route: Begin at the end of North Manakau Road, follow the Waikawa Stream and pick a spur towards the saddle north of point 673. Continue down the other side into the West Waitewaewae River. Follow it to Island Forks and along the main Waitewaewae River to the Otaki River. Carry on to Waitewaewae Hut. Then out via the main track over the plateau and along Saddle Creek back to Otaki Forks on Sunday.
Actual route: Bingo.
Related bits: Dave also wrote a trip report about this weekend.
[Photos]

It was a complicated transport arrangement on Friday night. Steve (from our group) was the only bus driver available, so it was necessary for him to drive the bus to Otaki Forks to drop everyone off, after which the remaining ten of us piled into the van and set off for the North Manakau Road-end, some distance further north. Both road-ends are windy and bumpy and have to be negotiated slowly, and it took quite a while for us to get to our starting point. At the end of North Manakau Road, we were quite surprised to find both a long drop, and a concrete barbecue, but not much else. Maybe it’s a popular place for people to camp for the night before setting off.

The large fly goes up.

We arrived shortly after 9pm and, after noting that there wasn’t really anywhere useful to walk to on a Friday night, we set to work putting up the flies. There was plenty of space, but the ground was far too hard to knock in any pegs, so we had to find some heavy rocks to weigh them down. The problems compounded when we realised that the main guy rope on the large fly we’d brought with us was a couple of metres too short. It almost got to the point of having to yank out some bootlaces to tie it down, until we figured out that it’d be feasible to tie one end directly to the van. The large fly was properly up by about 9.45pm, and with the front of the van sheltering one end of it we even managed to cram seven people under it quite comfortably.

Steve crosses a slip that
we found quite early.

People were stirring a little after 6.30am or so on Saturday morning. Allen had a billy boiling before long for everyone who wanted hot water, and after an hour or so we were packed up and ready to get going. The North Manakau Road-end actually has two obvious exits. One of them, on the left of the road when facing the end, is signposted as some kind of bush-walk and immediately starts going up-hill. I don’t know where this track goes, and we went the other way, which basically continues straight ahead into the trees from the end of the road. This track goes straight down towards the Waikawa Stream, which was where we wanted to be, towards the site of one of the Tararua’s old logging mills. We’d hit the river within 3 or 4 minutes, and even though there’s a track marked along the river’s true right to the old mill site for about a kilometre, it wasn’t very distinguishable to me from the river itself. Personally I never even noticed the site of the Old Mill. I’m unsure if this is because I wasn’t looking hard enough, or if there’s just not much to see.

Navigationally speaking, the entire trip was likely to be quite straightforward. The plan was to follow the Waikawa Stream south for a couple of kilometres, then head up a spur to a saddle, which was also pretty much south-wards. It was a good place to practice navigation techniques, though, and several of us had maps and compasses out to try and pick up the variations in the stream.

Marie and Andy
heading upwards.

The stream did have a few kinks in it to throw us off, and at one point we nearly headed up the wrong side-stream, and only realised after a bearing found us somehow heading north-west. Looking at the map, though, it would have been difficult to take a wrong turn that didn’t eventually take us to where we wanted to be anyway. Allen and Sue, of course, had been all around just about everywhere nearby except for this particular stream. If we’d found a way to get lost, we would have known because they would have begun to recognise where they were. They probably wouldn’t have told us, though.

Lesley near the top of the
saddle, heading down.

We found what we thought was the right spur at about 9.40am, and there was even a bit of a track worn around it. At first, the track seemed to go more alongside the river rather than up the spur, but it eventually headed up, and we were on what I presume was the saddle at about 10.35′ish. After a small amount of surveying to check if we should be heading either way along the ridge, we ended up heading straight down the other side, and into the West Waitewaewae River. The descent took about 30 minutes, and we stopped for a natter and a short snack at the bottom.

Sylvia shows off
fancy footwork.

The West Waitewaewae River is a little gorgey in places, and within about ten minutes we were wading through knee-deep water for the first time. As things go there wasn’t a lot of water in the river, though, and it was quite a nice and gentle walk under the trees. The group stopped for lunch shortly before 12, and with quite a lot of time to burn, we boiled some more water and took a 30 minute break.

After lunch things became a lot more gorgey, intermittently at least. At about 12.45, we came across our first part of the river that looked a little difficult. It was a section with a small waterfall that looked deep underneath, and had steep walls on either side. Dave and Andy were the first to climb around the edge. They didn’t make it look easy or particularly safe, either. I was starting to consider my first practical attempt at pack-floating at about the time that Sylvia got everyone’s attention by mis-placing something and falling backwards into the river from the wall above. Sylvia was fine (apart from being a little saturated), and when she stood up it became more obvious that the depth wasn’t much more than waste deep. Steve and I ended up just wading through, while I think everyone else found a convenient ledge about knee-deep under the water which was a little easy to sidle around.

Dave next to the main
Waitewaewae River.

We were walking again at 3.35pm, with the next phase of the trip being about 5 kilometres along the main Waitewaewae River to where it flowed into the Otaki River. The main river continued the occasional gorginess, resulting in more places where we needed to wade through waist-deep water. This also contributed to the number of good swimming holes that we walked past. We didn’t stop for any swimming in the end, but it might be worth remembering for the future.

Sue and Allen lead everyone in
another crossing.

There’s a big slip marked on the map about half way along that stretch, which we’d reached by 5.10pm at our fairly relaxed pace. It was starting to get later in the day now, though, and notably the sandflies were starting to hover around the water, biting when given the chance. We weren’t too far from the hut by now, which was evident by the increasing numbers of footprints visible in the sand, suggesting that this part of the river was getting to be a little more populated. For a while, however, we were still considering camping for the night. The weather was calm, and we walked past quite a few possible campsites in the flats alongside the river.

We never did stop, however, and secretly I was quite glad inside. Camping would have been nice, but I’d only just renewed my annual hut pass the previous Tuesday, and somehow staying in a hut somehow seemed to justify this. We finally reached the Otaki River at 5.45pm. From here it was a short jaunt further down-stream to the swing bridge, 15 minutes away, where we stopped to re-group. We were all over it by about 10 minutes later, including Marie who put on a small circus act by holding her pole in her mouth, and were settling into hut life by 6.20pm. Overall it was a good day, apart from Kerry’s injury which was still bothering her. I think the only irritation for me was after I pulled off one of my gaiters and discovered that one of the lace brackets from my boot had fallen off, probably in the West Waitewaewae River since I think that was about the time I thought my lace had come loose. It’s probably washed well out to see by now.

Arriving at Waitewaewae Hut.

Already at the hut for the night were a couple with a friendly dog, who were camped outside, and a family group of four who were currently preparing dinner and playing card games. What we didn’t find, against our expectations, was the other group. Considering how late it was in the day, this seemed strange and a little concerning, especially after the dog couple told us they’d overtaken the group at the log hauler near the start of Saddle Creek back at mid-day. As we heard a helicopter fly overhead shortly after our arrival, we joked about how it might have been for them.

Waitewaewae Hut was very similar to how I remembered it from September 2006, the only obvious difference being the movement of the long drop. (The track to the previous location has been filled up by a large tree branch.) The current Waitewaewae Hut itself has an interesting distinction of being the first hut that New Zealand’s Department of Conservation funded the building of using the fees from back-country hut tickets. This was a demonstration in 1991, in response to a lot of controversy over the introduction of hut fees, shortly after the department usurped control of the country’s National Parks and Forest Parks, and whatever was in them. To quell some of the complaints from many people who objected to being charged for use of the facilities that they themselves had spent time and effort building and maintaining, the government department wanted to demonstrate that those fees would actually be spent on supporting recreational activities. Consequently, Waitewaewae was rebuilt. Although there less objections to the payment of fees after 17 years, the hut book at Waitewaewae still gets the occasional comment from someone complaining about how they feel insulted for being asked to pay them.

We settled into a couscous dinner, and as we waited for the other group, I flicked through the hut copy of Ross Kerr’s A Chronology of the Tararua and Rimutaka Ranges. Sue meanwhile explained to one of the other people at the hut just where we’d come from that day, pointing to a stream on her Tararua map which I noticed was covered in a very comprehensive grid of drawn lines. The other group still hadn’t arrived by the time we went to bed after several hours. It was quite possible they’d had a minor mis-hap, so we assumed they’d probably just stopped and camped somewhere along the way, or returned to Otaki Forks. For the entire day, I’d been expecting to be sleeping on the floor. I felt a little guilty snatching a mattress on the so-far completely vacant top level. It was tempting to sleep on the deck outside and a couple of people almost did, but everyone was inside by the end, even though Steve and Marie preferred to stick to the floor. It may have been just as well that everyone was inside, as there was rain overnight.

The first people started waking up at around 6am on Sunday morning, partly prompted by one of the couple camped outside who came inside briefly around then. Allen and Sue were keen to get back to their car at Otaki Forks so they could get home early, and they were away by about 7am, dragging Dave behind them, who was needed so he could be dropped at the Waikawa road-end in order to collect the van and bring it back to the Forks. Before they left, however, Steve (who knew how to use the timer on his camera) made sure to get a nice, group photograph of everyone. The couple with the dog and the family group were away next, but everyone else in our own group took a bit longer to get going. It wasn’t likely to be a long day, at least compared with the previous day, and so it took until about 7.45am before the rest of us were packed, ready to leave and walking again.

Incidentally as a bit of mostly useless information, the Terramap of the Tararuas folds really nicely if you’re going on a similar route to ourselves and stopping at the hut overnight. The hut itself is near the edge, duplicated on both sides of the double-sided map. This meant that for all of Saturday we were walking from top to bottom of the map, from Waikawa to Waitewaewae. On Sunday morning I pulled it out and neatly re-folded it to the other side, and once again we were walking from the top to the bottom, from Waitewaewae Hut to Otaki Forks.

Circumventing the track via
the Otaki River.

After a brief discussion, we decided to avoid the first part of the track from Waitewaewae Hut, which is known for it’s fluctuating altitude, and instead wander around the curve in the Otaki River, which was all flat. We’d reached the big orange triangle, at the intersection of the Otaki River and Arapito Creek, shortly after 8am. By this time I was the only person remaining in our group who’d done this before, and unfortunately I had some fake memories of the incident. My specific memory had been that there was some climbing up above the creek to the track from this point. This memory also seemed completely logical after seeing that there was an obvious track going up the hill from that point. The further we climbed, however, the less obvious the track became, and I’m now wondering if it only existed because so many other people had had the same false memory that I’d had. Or perhaps it had something to do with the exact placement of the big orange triangle down at the river level.

After a couple of minutes, Steve asked me if I was sure that we were going the right way. I admitted I wasn’t, and so we decided we’d probably be better off going back down and simply following Arapito Creek for about 200 metres, to the point where the map indicated that the main track crossed it. The logic in my mind had told me that since I’d remembered another track, this creek must certainly have been quite difficult to navigate. It wasn’t of course, and within a minute we were practically walking on a highway with orange triangles every 30 seconds.

From here there was an uphill climb of about 250 metres to a plateau, although the track tends to undulate up and down for a bit which probably makes the climb a little further. Kerry wasn’t having quite so much trouble with her knee any more by now, especially having gotten away from the uneven and hard ground of the riverbeds that we’d been walking along for nearly all of the previous day. (My accidental guiding up and down a very steep section earlier probably hadn’t helped, however.) We still took things quite slowly, however, with no real reason to rush. I’m unsure exactly what time we reached the plateau’s high-point, but it was probably roughly 9.30am, after which we began to descend and very quickly found ourselves walking in Saddle Creek.

Saddle Creek.

The track from Waitewaewae Hut back to Otaki Forks zig-zags frequently over Saddle Creek for about 2 kilometres before heading up the hillside, to the extent that it’s often easier to simply walk in the creek than to keep following the track up and down beside it. In our case, the remaining seven of us went at our own pace and we spread out quite a lot, occasionally regrouping. I quite enjoy it when this happens because it’s a nice change from constantly catching up with people, and I tend to make better decisions about where to put my feet when I can see further ahead of me. A little after 10am, though, I caught up with Andy, Lesley and Sylvia, all of whom were crowded around a tree. It turned out that Sue, from the other group, had left us a note, and it was interesting reading.

Steve and Marie
read the note.

The previous afternoon, one of them had had an accident and slipped over in the creek, twisting an ankle. After attempting to walk her out, it’d quickly become clear that doing so wouldn’t be possible. Ray, also from the other group, had decided to activate his personal locator beacon, which I later heard him refer to as his pocket helicopter. Ray and Sam had then walked back to Otaki Forks to raise the alarm that way in case the beacon failed. Within a couple of hours, however, a helicopter had arrived and the injured person had been flown out. So that helicopter we’d heard the previous evening had actually been for them after all. The note went on to say that they’d camped in the surrounding area that night, even though we couldn’t see anywhere nice to camp no matter how hard we looked. It must have been quite an awkward night. According to the note, they’d left about 90 minutes before we arrived, so they probably weren’t too far ahead. The others carried on while I waited for Steve, Marie and Terry to catch up, if only to see the looks on their faces.

We re-grouped again about half an hour later (about 10.50am), after those in front had stopped rather than overtake the family group that’d left the hut before us. We actually weren’t far from the turn-off point from Saddle Creek; once we got going again, we’d only been walking for 5 minutes before we unexpectedly ran into our friends from the other group. They’d been waiting for quite some time for us to show up. After having had some issues getting around an active slip on their way in on Saturday morning, they hadn’t yet decided whether to continue along that way or to follow the river instead. If they did the latter, they also didn’t want to go down the river without us knowing about it.

An added complication was them having had to divide up everything from an extra pack, since Sarah had been flown out without taking everything with her. Most of this was figured out already, but Steve helped out by carrying an additional pack which by now was almost empty, strapping it to the back of his own. After some discussion, we all decided to continue back on the track. Nobody knew what to expect from the river, whereas we knew that the main track was quite easy once we’d gotten around the slip.

The old log hauler.

Our group was walking again at 11.15am, leaving Saddle Creek behind and immediately finding the old log hauler, which is placed right next to the track, and overtaking the family group who’d sat down behind it for a snack or early lunch. Much of the track between Saddle Creek and Otaki Forks is wide and flat. In fact, the old rails that were used by the log hauling engines continue to exist along some parts of the tracks. At 11.30am we reached the main obstacle, which is where the track hits quite a large, active slip. From here it’s necessary to climb up and around the top of it, using a much worse track that won’t be permanent for as long as the land continues to get washed away over time. Getting around it only takes on the order of 5 minutes, but the sudden difference in terrain could be quite a shock after a while of flat, wide tracks.

Steve on the final leg.

We returned to flat, wide tracks soon enough on the other side, however. Those of us up the front got ahead quite a bit, and we stopped for some lunch at midday, triggered by having caught up with the couple walking their dog. From here the whole walk out was much less structured, though. Once Steve decided to get up and leave, I followed shortly after, and we were almost immediately out from under the trees and into chirping cicada country. Everyone followed at their own pace, with many people apparently stopping along the way for a swim in one of the nearby rivers.

By 12.45pm, I’d reached the grassy plateau just above Otaki Forks, where the Waitewaewae Track meets the track up to Field Hut. This had definitely changed since last time I saw it. In particular, there was now a 2 metre wide lawnmower track through the grass, with a sign indicating that the marker poles should be followed back to the forks. At first I thought that DOC had simply clearly mown the original track so that people would stick to walking in one place, rather than wandering all over the field. After a few minutes, though, it became clearer that this track didn’t seem to be going exactly where I thought it was. I did end up back at the Forks, but it was probably about 4 or 5 times longer than the original track, which is much more direct. Presumably DOC wanted to make something that had a shallower gradient, considering how much Otaki Forks is frequented by people who just want a short circular walk, or who want to get to one of the nearby rivers.

There’s a new very grunty bridge there now, too, which in any other location would look like a monstrosity (which is exactly what has occurred with the new DOC bridges in places like Mitre Flats). At Otaki Forks though, it probably makes some sense because so many people visit. Another tramping club was having some kind of children’s camping picnic on the other side of that bridge. Those kinds of things frighten me, and I decided to go sideways slightly and walk over the old swing bridge instead. Half way across I looked down and noticing that the water in the river was only ankle deep, I wondered why I hadn’t just waded across.

The time was now past 1pm and I thought that Dave would almost certainly be back with the van. Looking around however, I couldn’t find him or the van anywhere. Dave arrived with the van about 20 minutes after I had, and I found out later that after a rather fast 3.5 hour run from Waitewaewae Hut to Otaki Forks, Allen and Sue had taken him to the Brown Sugar Cafe in Otaki for a coffee, which explained his lateness. Meanwhile I found the club bus, in which Ray and Sam were sitting half asleep. We went back down to the field near the bridges and threw a frisbee around for a while, as everyone slowly trickled in.

It was a fun trip in the end, made even more exciting after hearing about the helicopter adventures of those in the other group. Apparently helicopters on club trips are something to do with Ray and Sue being present, so I might have to take that into account when planning what I sign up for in the future.

Dates: 9th – 11th September, 2006
Location: Tararua Forest Park
Huts visited: Parawai Lodge (1 night), Waitewaewae Hut (1 night)
[Photos]

This was a WTMC easy-rated trip to Waitewaewae Hut in the Tararua ranges, from Sep 9th to 11th 2006, but most people agreed that it would have been better rated Easy-Medium.

We stayed the night at Parawai Lodge, which is a basic 18 bunk hut just over the swing bridge at Otaki Forks. The DOC information says it takes 4 hours to get to Waitewaewae, but this figure seems to be very misleading. (It’s probably for people who are quite fit and don’t stop for lunch.) It took us about 7 hours give or take a little.

The trip includes a substantial amount of wading up Saddle Creek, and then there’s quite a steep climb up (and down) a plateau. A smaller group of us then decided to wade along the Otaki River for about half a kilometer or so for the remaining distance to the hut, rather than follow the track up and around the edge. Judging by the reactions of people who turned up about 30 minutes after us, I think we’d gotten off quite a lot better.