Gavin and I had high hopes this would be our sixth
successful mountain-packraftineering expedition since spring but alas our luck
ran out and we finished in a strategic retreat from the Browning Range. The omens
were favourable, you understand with a fine Metvuw and yr.no forecast but both
were wrong. So off we went on 23rd April all the way to Hannah’s
Clearing where we stopped for a coffee with Wayne and Ruth Allanton. Then, on
to the Turnbull, where we stopped before the locked gate on the northern bank.
One should contact Kim Landreth Ph 03-7500129 for permission to cross his land.
Loading up here, we set off along the 4-WD track to the
Power station then maybe half a kilometre further on a cattle track switchbacks
up to a saddle at 300 metres avoiding Venture Gorge. This leads down to a small
clearing in the bush and further on arrives out onto the banks of the Turnbull
River. After crossing Hopeful Creek, one arrives at a grassy flat where there
is an old musters Hut belonging to Kim. Outside were some packs plus rifle bags
so we figured some hunters were about. There are cattle in the valley and good
tracks along the river bank. We carried on for another 2 kilometres and found a
nice campsite tucked in at the bush edge of a large clearing. On the way we saw
a helicopter flying up the valley but they did not see us as we were still in
the bush. I deliberately left signs that we were in the valley as one has to be
careful of hunters in terms of safety.
I had a head cold, was coughing and sneezing but Gavin made
no complaint. We had a long night as it was dark by 6 pm. During the night it
rained as expected and as it was drizzling next morning, we decided to stay
put. I eventually roused myself and got out to fire up the stove for a hot
drink. As I was having breakfast, 2 hunters appeared and came over for a chat.
They were Jeff, the archetypical bushman, from Methven and Chris from the Snowy
Mountains over for a shoot. I could see they were true bushmen, men of
character, noble in bearing and held in high esteem. They told us that they
were camped a bit further down valley. We spent ages talking about hunting,
routes, people who were mutual friends. It’s amazing how small NZ is among the
outdoor fraternity. Eventually they left and we spent the rest of the day in
the tent as it was raining a lot and clouds were low on the peaks.
Next day the rain has stopped so off we went following up
the TR of the Turnbull to the forks at Round Hill. Here we took the left hand
fork towards Uproar Gorge. At first easy travel, this soon became steep and
pushed us up onto steep slopes. There was a lot of ups and downs until we
arrived at Ossify Creek. Turning left we made our way up a series of creeks
where the creek fanned out in several branches. We moved over to the TL as Moir’s
Guidebook suggested and then found a flagged route. This was not the easiest to
follow but eventually it led us to flats about a kilometre up ahead. Sullen-looking
clouds hung around the peaks and curtains of drizzle swept the valleys as we
stopped for lunch. Nevertheless, I was glad to be here on NZ last frontier in
South Westland. We carried on to Commotion Creek. Here a cataract tumbled down
cliffs and we climbed up a greasy creek bed to them. At about 520m we stopped
and surveyed the options, which were limited to a steep spur climbing up to the
NE on the TR of the creek. Deer trails were followed until a vertical bluff
reared above us. After eyeballing this obstacle, I decided to climb it on it’s
right flank. Gavin gamely followed and after a few awkward moves, we scrambled
onto the crest of the spur into open scrub. Following open leads, we climbed up
to about 820m where we found the perfect campsite with a nearby pool of water. This
was a place of stillness and serenity - breathing in the cool, mountain air
invigorating and enriching soul and spirit. I felt empowered by the surrounding
energies as my perspacious gaze swept the surrounding peaks.
The evening was cloudy though there were brief glimpses through
the shifting cloud of the col, 700m above us. It was difficult to see exactly
where the route up the bluffs went but we decided to head straight up next day,
that in retrospect was not a good move. Our plan was to cross the col at 1500m
and sidle left to Quiet Hollow, then down to the Franklin and packraft out the
Okuru River.
Thursday dawned drizzly and misty. We were enveloped in
cloud. Where was the fine weather promised? Gavin looked askance at our
surroundings, cloaked in swirling mist. There was no hurry up. Then it lifted a
bit and I thought we should at least head up in case it did decide to clear. We
packed up the sodden tent and set off upwards into a miasma of damp forest and
clinging vegetation. At 900m we arrived at a stream just below a dripping,
parlous, overhanging cliff that barred any further progress. Tantalisingly
about 50m above was the tawny tussock. Below us the stream plunged into a
ravine so we worked our way downwards until we could cross it, to sidle
leftwards towards an easier forest-covered spur. By now the rain was setting in
and as we were both of an age that does not find failure immortal, we deemed it imperative
to retreat.
All went well as we quickly down climbed the spur but then
we had difficulty finding our way down the vertical moss covered bluff. It all
looked different but eventually we found scuff marks on the mossy ledges and
this easily took us down to less steep slopes. Lower down Ossify Creek, we
picked up the flagged route again and made good time down to the Turnbull. At
the junction we saw a pair of Whio or Blue Duck who sounded the panic call. In
the late afternoon, we had reached the forks and there on a quiet stretch of
river we launched our packrafts. A dark blanket of cloud hung over the valleys
and the light was fading as we paddled off along a quiet stretch of river.
Somewhere up valley we could hear a helicopter and then it suddenly roared
overhead on it’s way out with it’s burden of deer tied underneath on a
strop. It gave us a hoot, no doubt startled to see 2 packrafts at dusk way up
the Turnbull. Then it was gone just as suddenly as quiet settled on the valley.
On dark we pulled into a flat on the TL and pitched camp.
Friday was still cloudy but the rain has stopped as we paddled
down to Hopeful Creek. The river was of deep green pools and gentle turns. Then
it was the pull up the track to the saddle and a descent to the 4 WD track that
led us back to Gavin’s van. We’ll return next spring/summer for another
attempt.
Apropos to this trip, Alastair contacted DOC about
repairing the Turnbull Flats Hut which we learned is a private hut owned by Kim
Landreth but on DOC land. Kim is planning on renovating the hut and we may be able
to assist him in this.
