Showing posts with label Marlborough. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marlborough. Show all posts

Thursday, 2 March 2017

These boots were made for walking, but they’ll no longer do…

Queen Charlotte Track, Ship Cove to Anakiwa
Party: Angela, Marion, Myself
16-20 February 2017

As a special treat, this trip comes with a playlist... Click the day titles for youtube clips of the music!

Day One: ‘Ain’t no sunshine’

After spending the night with the parents of a friend (yay for being fed dinner and breakfast!), we woke to the sound of rain on the roof. This was not entirely unexpected, although finding a forecast that actually indicated the amount of rain we should expect where we were going had been difficult.

The rain spat at us while we collected our track passes and checked in for our water taxi. By the time we got off the water taxi at Ship Cove it was definitely raining. We quickly headed to the shelter for an early lunch and weka spotting. Yet again, it was too wet for me to want to wander up to the waterfall near the memorial – what is it with me and rain at Ship Cove?


Unlike last time I did this day of the track, however, it didn’t stop raining on us on the way up to the lookout. If anything, it kept getting heavier. And heavier. This weather was not conducive to stopping with any sort of regularity, so no afternoon tea was had. Thankfully the rain eased slightly when we reached Tawa Saddle for a toilet and food break.

By the time we reached Furneaux, we were soaked to the skin. It was 5pm, and we still had an hours walk planned to get around to Madsens Camp, where our bags had been dropped. Joy of Joys – Furneaux had a spare bunk room available, and for an extra $20 would go and collect our bags from Madsens. While we were aware that this would mean an extra 2-3km / hour-ish of walking to do on Saturday, it also meant we had real shelter rather than a tent.

We were glad for real beds, and the chance to warm up in front of the fire, but Furneaux is a surprisingly run-down place. $56 per person for a backpacker bed gets you no cooking facilities, a concrete-block toilet akin to a back-blocks DoC campground and no real sheltered spot for getting stuff actually dry (unless you can nab a spot by the fire, which were scarce the evening we were there!).

Day Two: ‘Long Day’ (aka ‘The day that doesn’t end’)

Putting sopping wet socks and boots back on in the morning is no-ones idea of a good time. Doing it in the knowledge that we were looking down the barrel of probably 35km walk with some big hills was dreadful.

The walk around the edge of Endeavour Inlet was dull, muddy and generally not fantastically pleasant. I begrudge nobody who takes up the offer of getting a ride across the inlet in conjunction with transporting their bags. Views are minimal, and the only excitement we had the whole 3-odd hours it took us to Kenepuru Saddle was a fleeting glimpse of a stoat and seeing a pair of Pukeko.

Thankfully, the weather was great for tramping – cool and overcast. If the rain of the day before (or the heat of the day after) had still been with us at Kenepuru Saddle, we would have abandoned the trip across the top and instead opted for either a water taxi or a hitch to Portage / Torea Bay. Instead, lunch was had at Kenepuru Saddle, and at 1pm we hitched our packs again in contemplation of either 23 or 24.5km ahead of us to the next road junction at Torea Saddle (depending which signage / information sheet you were reading), including crossing the highest point on the track, at 481m.

Onwards and upwards and upwards and upwards. We opted not to visit Eatwells Lookout when we discovered it was a 30-minute return walk. This was a stupid long day as it was and we already knew we would be pushed for daylight.

Pausing at Bay of Many Coves Campground at 5:30 for painkillers, refilling water bottles (thank goodness the tanks had filled a bit, having been empty in early January) and food, we ran into a German couple, through-walking Te Araroa Southbound, who were continuing on to Black Rock Campsite. Leaving a campsite at 5:45pm with 15km still to go seemed entirely wrong.

We found the German couple again at a saddle 8km later – right where Black Rock campsite should have been according to the distances suggested on all the signage. It was still another 2km / 30 minutes away. Boo. Another break here for the toilet and on we pushed, only to be stopped about 1km later, first by my blisters, then by a sudden torrential downpour.

Our final 4km for the day was in in increasing darkness and rain, thankfully it was mostly nicely graded downhill that my sore knee could cope with ok as the track was also in good condition. Eventually, we popped out on the road at Torea Saddle, desperately wishing we had the phone number for our accommodation at Treetops to call and ask for a pickup. 9pm and we finally knocked on the door of the backpackers, tired, sore, damp, and beyond the point of being able to deal with a walk down the dark path to the main backpacker building to use the kitchen. Thankfully the owner gave us a jug of hot water for tea, and we all had sandwiches for dinner around having showers before heading straight to bed.

Day Three: ‘I dare you to move’

Saturday night I went to bed in tears. My boots were falling apart and causing the most incredible foot pain (the wet boots for 35km issue hadn’t helped either, obviously). I didn’t want to carry on. In retrospect, I possibly shouldn’t have.

Our lovely host gave us a ride to Torea Saddle to start the track, and we started inching our way up the hill. Unlike the previous two days, we actually saw a moderately significant number of people on the track over the course of the day, going both ways. Oddly, given we had taken a photo with a 21km marker before exiting the track the day before, at the bottom of the southbound track here was a 24km to go marker. Yet more proof that the track lies.

By this stage, lookouts often had views to Picton itself, which was tantalisingly close, yet also so far away, since we were heading further south and west yet. At one of these stops, we again saw our German friends, powering on through the heat. Guess being 3 months into Te Araroa will do that for you!

Progress was agonisingly slow. The heat compounded the pain I was already experiencing. We struggled to maintain a pace any faster than 2km/hr and I admit to collapsing in tears on our way down one of the hills when looking at the next climb back up. We took a number of long breaks to deal with the heat, and finally stumbled into Mistletoe Bay at 4pm – 6 hours after we started our 8km day.

Mistletoe Bay was incredible. While it was a bit frustrating having to collect our bags from the wharf and walk them nearly 1km through the camp to the house we were staying at, this was offset by the fact that the water at the wharf was incredible for swimming in, there was a shop selling ice cream, powerade and fresh eggs, and the house had not only a full kitchen, but air conditioning (even if the unit leaked, it at least got the house cool quickly!).

After dinner (chorizo fried rice), we showered, had wine and read our books for a while before taking a short wander to exclaim at the sheer volume of visible stars and the glow worms in the immediate area by our house. The darkness here was incredible. Plans were made for a 5am alarm to see the milky way and watch the sunrise and we all headed to bed.

For some unknown reason, I decided to have my first coke in 2 weeks at 7pm. I was wired still at bedtime. Whoops.

Day Four: ‘Eyes on the prize’

2am, the smoke alarm in our house goes off. Thankfully its not connected to a main system, so we could just turn it off by taking out the battery, but after investigating to ensure there actually wasn’t a fire anywhere, it still took 2 more hours to get back to sleep, through many imaginings of headlines “alarm on bench with battery taken out, 3 dead”…

5am, the phone alarm goes off. If the weather had been clear, even having been awake in the middle of the night would not have kept me in bed. We would have been in the perfect location for an awesome milky way shoot and sunrise. It was not to be. Overnight it had completely clouded in. So back to sleep we went.

Finally up properly about 7:30am, we cooked breakfast (bacon, eggs and fried rice. Divine.), packed up, delivered our bags back down to the wharf and I finally strapped on my disintegrating boots at 10am. We had about 12km ahead of us, and 6 hours to do it in. If we could get back to the pace we had managed on days 1 and 2 (about 3km/hr), we would be fine and have time to spare.

The climb back up to the saddle wasn’t too bad, and we made really good time all the way along, managing a few good breaks and allowing several shorter ones. We made some track friends through this section, bunny hopping each other frequently when we each stopped.

Nursing my dead boots and painful feet into Anakiwa was almost anti-climactic. I had built it up into this massive achievement potential, but it just… happened. And was done. And I was too sore to just keep walking to the end of the pier and walk straight off. I suspect that had my feet not been in agony, I might have been more excited rather than simply relieved of what had become a mental burden, this NEED to finish the track. The tide being in a long way also put a dampener on my plans to throw my boots off the wharf (because I wasn’t going to leave them in the water, so needed someone there to grab them before they sank).

An ice-cream, a break in the shade, and a very quick swim – shortened by the realisation that the Cougar Lines boat waiting at the wharf WAS for us, rather than a half-hour earlier trip and would leave as soon as everyone was on board – and it was time to head back to Picton, boots still in hand.

Probably the highlight of the whole trip was the dolphin pod we encountered on our trip back to Picton. Throwing away my boots was bittersweet, and I’m so glad we nabbed a cabin for our trip back to Wellington – hot showers and a dim, quiet room to round out the trip.

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Raindrops kept falling on my head

5 - 7 October 2007

Boulder Forks Hut, Leatham Conservation Area, Marlborough

Party: Myself, Geoff

Friday

After rushing home from work early so I could park my car in Johnsonville and then catch a bus to Thorndon Quay / Old Hutt Road to walk to the ferry, it turned out I didnt have enough money on my bus card to cover my fare... Thankfully the driver took pity on me and let me on anyway, since my wallet was buried somewhere in my pack (which weighed a tonne!), behind the ice axe, crampons and helmet.
Split Bridge
The walk from the south bound bus stop to the ferry terminal was very straight forward - as is the walk from the north bound stop, if you negate the fact that stop requires you to cross four lanes of traffic with a speed limit of 60kph! - and a lot faster than I anticipated, so I was at the ferry early
The ferry trip was a bit rough, as it was exceedingly windy.
Rough seas
There had also been a lot of rain leading up to our trip (not uncommon for spring), and so discussions were had about alternative options for the easy group. The plan was for them to follow us up to Boulder Forks Hut for the night as their entire tramp, while we were planning to go on from there to climb Bounds Peak.

Arriving at the road end in the pitch black of midnight in the pouring rain, a decision was made that our party, and the other climbing party of two, who were aiming for Pinnacle, would cross the river in the dark and head to the hut for the night to get a head start on the climbing. I really wish we hadnt. The river was high and unpleasant to cross. My head torch then started running out of battery, and I struggled to keep up with the guys as they missioned their way at full speed towards the hut. About 5 minutes from the hut there was what appeared on the map to be a minor side-stream that would need to be crossed. When we arrived, it was a raging torrent and you could HEAR the rocks being moved in the dark brown current.

Being now nearly 2am, the decision was made to link up and try it anyway. Even with no runout. Talk about a scary experience for me, who was on my first ever club tramp! We made it, and arrived at the hut in the dark a few minutes later. The family that were already there woke themselves up and volunteered to squeeze into a couple of bunks so we could have enough space, and the eight of us hunkered down for the rest of the night.

Saturday

Saturday dawned beautiful and clear and Geoff and I decided we would make a go of getting to the peak and back from the hut. So day packs were shouldered and we headed off. The ground was super saturated, it was like walking on marshland. Waterfalls had sprung up everywhere
A side stream
and the gully Geoff had marked out as a way to climb up to the ridge was now a substantial river and very slippery.
Bounds peak main ridge
After the night before, I was really in no mood to take risks as I was completely freaked out, so early on in the piece I abandoned the climb to the ridge and returned to the hut, leaving Geoff to his own devices.
I then went exploring in the direct area of the hut, including down to the river we had crossed the night before, which had dropped a bit since the rain had stopped at 4am or so.
The Ford
I also clambered about in the old Boulder Forks Hut, which is in antique condition, but with groundsheets and mats would make a suitable emergency shelter if the main hut was full
Heritage New and old Old

the sun stayed out all day, and the ground around the hut was surprisingly solid considering how wet the next valley was. The family group who had stayed the night headed out about lunchtime, and so I pulled out my mat and sleeping bag and napped / read my book in the sunshine outside the hut for most of the afternoon.
Geoff returned about 4pm, announcing that the ridge would really need a long weekend to get up, and the easier access is from further back down the river towards the road.
The other two (Stuart and David I think) returned from Pinnacle at about 6.30pm, bang on the time they told us not to start worrying before. The easy group never arrived at the hut, so we had to assume they had decided to go somewhere else instead.

A nice dinner was had, followed by an early night.

Sunday

Overnight it had started raining again. The river we had earlier crossed had been down quite a bit the evening before, so we werent hugely concerned. Until we got up and saw it starting to rise very rapidly! (Obviously a rather large catchment area!), but it stopped raining by about 9am, so we thought it should go down again fairly well, forgetting it had taken all day Saturday to get as far down as it had...
We got to 11am and realised we really needed to get going if we wanted to meet the van at 2 for the drive back to the ferry. It was decided that we would try to true right of the river, as there were apparently large "River Flats". Yeah, they were flooded, and we wound up scrambling along rain-soaked hills on that side till we were bluffed out. Then we had no choice but to cross the river because going back against the flow wasnt really an option.

Crossing here was actually the easiest part of the day. The river was wide and slow flowing and only really ankle deep. We were now running late though, and had to mission along the 4wd track to the next river crossing to get back to the van.

We arrived on the far side of the river just as Paul was about to give up waiting for us and head the 3km back to the van for them to all go home without us. The river here was wide, fast and deep. An area which had been a puddle on Friday was now part of the main river. The spot the van had parked in had also dissapeared into the river. We could see why the easy group hadnt arrived at the hut!

We then discovered from Paul that there had been a washout on the road that the van had been unable to get past, they had been lucky to get it out Saturday morning. So we had to keep walking. It was cold, I was soaked to the skin and we were all miserable. Thankfully Paul was in good shape and offered to take my pack so I could keep up. Then even more thankfully, a local farmer came past and offered us all a ride on the back of his ute. Even with that, we still only just made it back to the ferry on time, and very WET!

Lesson: Dont sign up for trips beyond E/M. They will likely be beyond my capability!
Boulder Forks Tramp