Last April, Gavin and I went up the Turnbull and Ossify Valley intending to cross the Browning Range to the Franklin and packraft out the Okuru River. Alas, the weather did not cooperate and we turned back at about 900m, high above Commotion Creek, in persistent rain and difficult terrain.
The weather has been more than a bit discombobulating this spring as we patiently waited for a weather window. One minute the weather forecast looked promising and the next not so – yes, no - should we go? On Thursday when I spoke to Gavin I said it did not look possible but by next morning the forecast had changed for the better so we hurriedly decided to go.
We arrived at the locked gate on the north bank of the Turnbull at lunchtime the next day. We had permission from Kim Landreth, the runholder to enter the Turnbull Valley. We camped in a lovely spot just past the Turnbull Flats Hut.
Next day we set off at 8.00 am and walked to the junction of the Turnbull and Mueller Rivers. The river had gone down a lot overnight so were able to cross the Upper Turnbull to flats on the other side. Crossing back we saw 2 adult Whio and 5 ducklings – a delightful sight. We carried on up the TR and climbing 50m above Uproar Gorge, we found good deer trails that took us to Io or Ossify Creek.
At Io Creek, there are 3 branches and we crossed
the first two easily but number three was a problem. We went too high up this
but everywhere looked too precarious and pernicious to cross. Then we decided
to descend and in a cataract saw 2 more Whio with 1 duckling. They looked
startled and hesitated in a small pool before gliding sideways over the
waterfall like the experts they are to the pool below and bobbed up
nonchalantly.
at 3.30 pm we reached the flats in Io creek and camped there.
Next day we climbed up Commotion Creek in drizzle and rain and camped above the bush line in a lovely spot. It cleared in the evening.
I slept well. During the night when I got up, it
was a clear obsidian sky with a scintillating galaxy-filled firmament,
promising a great day ahead. We were away at 7.10 am climbing up the wet
tussock spur to hard, frozen snowfields that took us to
the 1600m, north of the pass. We were very pleased to have our ice-axes and
crampons. I could see Gavin standing on the rocky pass but was unprepared for
the awesome vertical drop down to a shelf maybe 60m below on the east face of
the ridge. Gavin was despondent. I stood silently for a while surveying the
possibilities, my perspicacious gaze wandering along a formidable precipice from
left to right and halted at the south end of the col. There appeared to be a
less than vertical snow lead dropping into a gully.
I led downwards, kicking steps in the steep slopes and Gavin gingerly followed. After 60m or so, we reached the snow shelf and the obvious way was to sidle this for about a kilometre in a northerly direction until directly above Quiet Hollow and then descend. So I kicked steps across the moderately steep slopes until I ran out of energy and Gavin took over. The descent to Quiet Hollow, which is a tussock basin, was straightforward and here we stopped at a tarn for lunch. 4 noisy keas paid us a visit.
We camped in a delightful location on the Upper Franklin Flats.
Next morning, dawned fine, as we awoke to a
magnificent dawn chorus. It was surreal to hear it as our forests are generally
so quiet – deathly quiet due to the pestilence of mammalian predators. We set off down the TR of the creek through
open forest on deer trails. It was quite boggy in places but good going until
we came against the Howe Bluff. We searched around until we found a deer trail
going the steep cliffs. We must have climbed about 150m zig-zagging around
fallen logs and obstructions. The bush was stunted, dense and difficult to get
through. It was not a lot of fun. Our deer trail had vanished.
After 5 hours we finally stumbled out of the bush onto the Franklin Flats were it joins the Okuru.
The Okuru has large expansive flats at the Franklin
junction. A herd of Hereford cattle sardonically inspected us. We walked down
the flats for a while and then launched our packrafts.
The onshore wind and rapids made it difficult.
Several
kilometres on we crossed over to some flats just before Spasm Hut and camped
among trees on a shady bank. It was another Archadian camping spot. A kea paid
us a visit and eyed our packrafts with aboriginal curiosity. Later it purloined
a tube of toothpaste from Gavin, leaving a hole in it. We decided to deflate
the packrafts as I had visions of hissing peck holes if left outside that
night.
Thursday
dawned fine again as we made our way down to Spasm Hut and then 1.5 km further
on we launched our rafts for the last time just before the big bend. We could
only paddle for about a kilometre before the river ran into a cataract down to
the “Boil Hole”. From here it was a 5km walk out on a 4WD track to the car. Just
in time! Next day the rain was back.
Acknowledgements:
Thanks greatly to my stalwart companion Gavin and Kim Landreth for permission
to enter the Turnbull.
