tramping new zealand

I could tell the rain had stopped from my bunk. Burn Creek was roaring, and the wind was doing its thing.

When I opened the door, it was more promising, with some blue sky to be seen. The clouds up at the top of the valley slowly disappeared with all the snow finally on show after the misty/cloudy/gloomy conditions since my arrival.

Lucky to see that as I obviously needed to go over Point 1952 to avoid the deep snow in Burn Creek that may have proved difficult to cross.

Good choice as I plodded my way up the hill.

The first two-thirds of the time was just hacking up steep snowgrass and tussock, then I got into some very firm snow with tongues of snow in the gullies, of which there were plenty. Some gullies were relatively flat, and could be crossed without trepidation. Some were narrow and steeper, and I kicked my way slowly across. A few more I climbed around, not wanting to speed back down the incline.

I had lunch in a sheltered spot just before getting over the western Emily Peak, 2028 m, and cloud suddenly swept in to create whiteout conditions.

Luckily, I’d been over this way before, back in 2020, and got onto the appropriate ridge, but it really was quite confusing at times. Later in the afternoon, the cloud lifted so I could plot out the best route ahead. If it had been fine, I would’ve put my tent up at the lovely campsite at the big tarn just off the ridge at the halfway point. That would be a good location to watch sunset and sunrise.

However, with patchy drizzle, I continued with my memory for staying on the route doing well. It may seem simple to stay on a ridge, but while it’s a continuously sheer drop on one side down to the tributary of the Glenroy River, when the ridge widens with its multiple bumps, the trail finding gets harder.

Eventually, after a couple of steep scree slopes, I was over Point 1786 and it was all downhill.

Last time, I took a shortcut down a gut, a section of hanging onto flax with a major drop on the other side, but I turned too optimistically and found myself heading down along an unfamiliar narrow ridge. At least it had some deer prints on it.

In the cloud, it took a while to see the tarn, surprisingly close, but on the other side of a substantial drop, and I could make out the steep ravine I’d need to cross. As I got to the edge, it was clear there was no way to get down that verticality, but a deer trail led in the upstream direction, and now, late in the day, I thought I’d follow that.

If deer can do it, surely a human can as well.

So it proved.

Plenty to hold onto except for a few rocky sections.

Made it.

Now just had to bash down the tussock to cross the little creek.

It felt good to make it to the bivvy after that strenuous day. Looking back across the creek I noticed the sheer cliff into the creek I had just circumvented. Luckily, I had no knowledge of the 20 m vertical drop I’d been skirting above.

There was limited easy walking on that route in the weather conditions and a number of reasonably challenging obstacles along the way, particularly when I was on my own and with limited visibility.

A great day out.