tramping new zealand

Another fine morning, and I was keen to head off to Esk Biv on a day visit.

After more closely examining my topo map, I plotted my escape route, and it was clear. It would be quicker and easier to leave from Anderson‘s Hut rather than lug my pack up to Esk Hut. I wasn’t sure what climbing from there would be like, but matagouri formed a thick mat in many places on my way yesterday. From the hut, it seemed clear of that prickly vegetation.

By 9 am, I was on my way. I’d become pretty accustomed to travelling up these flat, wide streams, but while there was some matagouri in the initial hour, cattle had been up in the last few years, and travel proved no issue as they had smashed out access.

In any case, many of the immediate river flats had been washed out, and boulder hopping was a thing.

There was one little gorge that had an old cattle track around. At one point, I spotted a late fawn, still with its spots.

On the alert about halfway, I saw four hinds up ahead and took some photos before they went up the hill. Half an hour later, I saw five more, but it may have been the same group.

It took less than three hours at my leisurely pace to get to the biv. It was West Coast style, with the door only 2/3 height, and I couldn’t stand up in it. It had been started being restored with the galvanised steel flat sheet roof and wall coverings removed with new building wrap installed over some chickenwire support and then reinstated. Two DOC mattresses lay on a single narrow bed. The chimney cowl had been removed and used to block the chimney where swallows had been entering.

I lay on the floor on a hot sunny day, away from the sun and realised this was my last day of random tramping for the summer.

Tomorrow, I’d be concentrating on getting to my car as quickly as possible to avoid having another night out in my tent.

Also, it was Waitangi Day, so it’s going to be busy out there. Maybe I’d need to spend the night at Lake Taylor campsite and then just drive home starting early the following morning.

I was on Day 6 of this now and I was ready for my own bed.

It was much easier on my return as I knew how to avoid the more difficult side of the stream.

I took a detour up onto a river terrace that I’d seen would be easy enough to get down earlier in the day.

To my surprise, more deer were ahead about a kilometre away, but then I realised those were swishing tails of horses. About nine of them, most with riders.

They were all at Anderson‘s Hut when I returned, talking with people in a four-wheel-drive. 12 people in all, but with only a lively six-year-old wanting to talk with me. It was an unusual situation, becoming invisible to the big group.

I had stuff to do, like collect water, sort out some gear in the hut, etc.

Eventually, the horses and riders departed. The four-wheel-drive crew were a different group from Christchurch, with three generations having the first hunting overnight experience for the exuberant boy.

We got the sleeping arrangement sorted. None of them wanted to sleep in the decrepit hut, so I had it to myself, although I had offered to camp.

They said it was no longer a DOC hut, despite the signage and two plastic-coated DOC mattresses. But maybe that would explain why there was no hut book.

Somehow, despite being built by the New Zealand Forest Service, the hut was now Mount White Station property and allegedly closed.

Okay. It didn’t matter; I was here, and there weren’t exactly any alternative options.

Eventually, the guys warmed to me and were very friendly, and I talked about this trip, but for once, I’d be glad it was over.