Going for a walk in New Zealand

Mt. Pollux and Mt. Castor

After spraining my thumb a few weeks earlier I decided I really need to give it a rest.  The only way I really saw this happening was by making it impossible to go paddling; so i borrow a backpack, bought 8 days worth of food and headed into the woods.  I picked a very ambitious route, with the main goal of escaping the masses.  After almost 2 weeks in Queenstown, I was ready to get out in the wilderness and away from the throngs of gapers filling the air, water and hiking trails anywhere it was easily accessible.

Having not been backpacking in at least 5 years, I was pretty pumped to get out and do something that I had really enjoyed at one time in my life.  I mean, what better place to go for a tramp than New Zealand?  Liz's pack fit surprisingly well and my Chaco river shoes and Chaco jandals (kiwi for flip-flops) would suffice as footwear for the trek.  I had Moose drop me off just north of Makarora and hiked 20 kms the first day up the Young River to the Young Hut.  The next day I hiked to the head of the Young River where it dead-ended in a massive U-Shaped valley.  I then headed over Gillispie Pass down to the Siberia Valley and stayed at the Siberia Hut.  Gillispie Pass was steep - 2hours of steeeeep switchbacks, some of the time using arms and legs to grovel up the next pitch.  The summit was amazing.  Wonderful 360 degree view, Mt. Awful almost close enough to touch.  The Siberia valley to the west and Young Valley to the east.  The descent wasn't any easier, maybe even harder on my sore knees.

 Mt. Awful from Young Valley

Summit of Gillispie Pass

Crystal clear waters of one of the hundreds of tributaries, makes for light packs not carrying H20

In the Siberia Flat almost to the hut after a big day of walking I could not help myself but gape at the amazing surroundings - I felt so small, insignificant, and all alone in such a massive landscape.  At times I could count as many as 8 to 10 waterfalls I could see all around me, draining the snowfields high above.  As I stood in this beautiful glacial valley I couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of what a small speck my existence was in this wonderful place.  Smaller than salt in the ocean - nothing.  Just as I was taking it all in, I stepped in a pothole buried in the grasses.  This came back to haunt me the next afternoon as every step was very painful.  I had made it down the Siberia Valley and was heading up the Wilkin River towards Jumboland.  Half-way to the hut I didn't think  I could make it any further.  It was mid afternoon and I figured I could bivy in Jumboland Flat and head out the next day.  I started looking for bivys and decided I should carry on for the Top Forks Hut.  I very slowed worked my way up river, climbing steep slips around large sections of gradient in the river, then returning to river level on the flats.  The last flat went on forever.  I was seeing mirages of a hut and of my friend Iffy, who I knew was hours ahead of me.  I tried to make as straight line as possible through the flat, following no trail at all, just where I though the hut would be.  I ended up making at least 10-15 stream crossings each one feeling deeper, faster and sketchier than the last.  I had given up on switching to jandals for the crossings and was wading through chest deep grasses when not waist deep in water.  I could see the forks of the Wilkin from very far away, but it felt as though it was never getting closer.

 Its easy to feel small in Jumboland!

I finally got to the point where I wasn't sure if I should be crossing the river and maybe I should just stay put.  But  I knew the hut had to be close and the draw of a bunk bed and accomplishment of making it to the hut drew me across the fast, freezing glacial stream.  Once on the other side I was again in aww of my surroundings.  After another 15 minutes of slogging I saw the hut!

Iffy was surprised to see me, thinking I probably bivied or turned around.  My knee was killing me, I was starving, and I was at one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.  Top Forks - the confluence of the North and South Forks of the Wilkin River is an amazing place.  Nestled right below many of the famous alpine ascents in Mt. Aspiring National Park - Castor, Pollux, Apollo, Aeolus, just to name the ones visible from the front porch - Top Forks hut has been the basecamp for almost all of the first ascents of the alpine peaks in this area.  Many of these first ascents dating back to the late nineteenth century.

Top Forks Hut -  My home for a few days

I was still starving after dinner.  Maybe I planned a little on the light side for my rations.  A guide with two clients was also staying at the hut intending on heading over Rabbit Pass the next day as well.  HE strung up a radio line outside and at 7:30 we all huddled around the stone age looking radio transmitter for the forecast.

Deciphering the weather forecast from the weather lady on the news is hard enough for someone new to the area.  This guy was all over the place.  Considering New Zealand is made up of so many different eco-regions and influenced my so many different factors figuring out the weather is part luck, some climatology, and lots of guessing.  What we got from it was that it was probably going to rain the next afternoon.

I need a rest day.  I wasn't sure at this point whether I could even make it out.  Rabbit Pass is one of the more formidable treks in NZ.  Its not alpine mountaineering, not rock climbing and not tramping, really its a 10-12 hour day combining the three with orienteering thrown in as well.  This is why I came on this journey.  I was excited to test my meddle on this unmarked alpine crossing, as it is referenced in the guidebooks.   After finding out the first night that Iffy was also heading the same way, we were both counting on each other in a way for support in this mission.

I told him I couldn't make it and need to rest, maybe do a day hike to some of the surrounding glacial lakes.  He was keen.  The lakes were beautiful, but even without a backpack I was struggling to make it up and down the many steep bits.   We took a swim in one lake - Lake Diana - right under the massive headwall of Mt. Pollux.

 Swimming in Lake Diana

That night I decided I couldn't make it any further.  It was be irresponsible to try and make it over Rabbit Pass.  Not to mention, the weather that was "predicted" for today looked like it was going to be moving in overnight and the next day.  Iffy realized he missed his window to make the pass solo.  So we decided to eat some extra food this evening.  I still had 5 dinners left so we splurged and had a reconstituted feast, still hungry afterwards.

The next morning brought a cold drizzling rain.  Perfect for sleeping in.  Iffy and I had a true rest day today.  Drank lots of coffee, read the littering of old outdoors magazines and local maps in the hut.  Played a ridiculous game of "Oh Hell" and talked a lot about everything from internal frame packs to foreign policy.  I went down to the river to fill up water bottles once and that was about the extent of my physical activity for the day, it was amazing.  Every now and then you could heard a thunderous roar, and look up just in time to see a massive ice and waterfall off the mountainside, and 15 seconds later you would never know there was anything there!  Powerful. 

Iffy at one of the many stream crossings heading down the Wilkin

The next day we make our way back down, finding better lines through the top flat and made good time.  I wore my jandals all day and my knee was feeling pretty good.  Made it to Kerin Forks hut in a few hours, the swam in the Wilkin to rinse off the sweat.  Relaxed.  Head out the next day - 21 kms down to the Makarora.  The last two days all we could talk about was buying steaks upon arrive at civilization.  With that in mind, we made straight for SH 6 and hitched a ride to Wanaka.  Ate steaks, sausages and beer.  Satisfied.

Hitching in New Zealand - Sweet As, Bro!

I guess I learned a lot on this 7 day adventure.  Walking over 100 kms who knows how much vertical loss/gain, but i bet  its a lot, I didn't make my initial goal.  Didn't really come close.  Maybe it was unrealistic, maybe I didn't have enough food or good enough shoes.  But really, I think what made the difference in the end was that I found what I was looking for and was content.  After all, I wanted to get away and I did that - at Lake Lucidious, I was about 45kms from the nearest road in a sparsely populated area of one of the least densely populated countries in the world.  All of the geographical features in the surrounding area were named from greek mythology.  It was beautiful, I was happy.  All of this completed less than a year from when I was still walking around in a cast and cane.  When I thought about it I couldn't have been more happy with my adventure.  Plus, if I made all three passes I was planning on, there wouldn't be anything left to come back and do.