tramping new zealand

After a rest day, eating fresh food, doing my washing and organising my pack, it was time to head off for the hills once again. I had one fun day, before the next, Christmas Day, would have rain all day.

Maybe I could dodge the raindrops and get to Carney’s Bivvies, there are two, to add to my hut tally. For some reason, probably due to having expended considerable effort getting to Murphy’s Biv on the way back down last time, these were the only huts I neglected to visit in the Havelock catchment. Last time I was here three years ago. It takes a while to drive from Methven to where you cross the Rangitata River, but seem to take longer to drive up the Rangitata. It was almost 11 am when I reached Bush Stream, where the DOC car park is.

It’s also where TA walkers start/finish this side of the Rangitata.

Here’s the thing. The wind was fierce, and I would be smashing into it for the next eight hours with limited respite. Clouds of dust were streaming down the valley. I’d be munching grit all day.

It took me more time to sort my gear out, put on my appropriate hiking clothes, etc.

It was sunny, with hardly a cloud in the sky, but I still wore my raincoat because of the blast.

The wind must have slowed me down, because it seemed to take a long time to go not far. I felt like I was Captain Scott marching to the South Pole, although it wasn’t all that cold.

It helped that I’d been up the river before and knew one trick. The main river cuts into a bank that turns into bluffs, but there’s a DOC four-wheel-drive track that starts a few hundred metres downstream that I used last time that climbs about 200 m above the river, meaning you don’t need to cross it.

Climbing had the benefit of being above most of the dust, but the climbing slowed progress even more.

On the way down to Black Birch Hut, I came across the reason the track hadn’t been used recently. A massive slip covered the track, 5 m deep and 60 m across, with gravel from up the hill. I scrambled over okay, and I guess you could get access on a motorbike, but the jump-up was too much for a vehicle.

It was 5 pm before I was past the private hut and still more than 6 km from my destination. It looked gloomy up the valley, with drizzle, although I was still dry.

I had to cross one braid of the river, which wasn’t quite knee deep. Later, you need to cross back, but by then there’s a four-wheel-drive track which saves a bit on concentration.

When I was nearing the last 1 km, in a straight line, I decided on an immediate approach through The Growler. The stream went onto an old, washed-out four-wheel-drive track.

A four-wheel-drive was parked outside the hut, and parked inside was a bow hunter and his very well-trained dog. He made space for me, having not expected anyone to come up with the poor weather forecast.

Man, that wind took it out of me, but we talked for a few hours before I could finally not keep my eyes open.