Across the Ranges of South Westland – A Traverse of the Red Hills and crossing of the Northern Olivines to the Arawhata, February 2023.

 

 

It’s day 7 here on the Arcade Flats as the rain pours down. We’re camped in our tents under some beech trees looking out at a dismal scene and the news is not good – another 3 days of this is forecast. And what about our previous good weather forecast – it should have been fine for us to cross over to Collins but . . . It all turned to custard so quickly and before I knew it, I was soaked climbing up the ineluctable, scrubby forest in the Arcade wondering where our previous excellent deer track had gone to. It's cooler now after the heatwave we experienced before and I realized I had been foolish not to take more thermal clothing and extra food. We're on half rations and in my case on quarter rations. Gavin has lent me a spare thermal top for which I'm grateful. Our food cache put in 16 months before at the bottom of McTavish Creek is frustratingly across the other side of the northern Olivine Range.

 

I’d been thinking of this trip for a long time. In September 2021, Sally, Belinda, Gavin and I walked up the Arawhata and placed a food cache at the bottom of McTavish Creek. Then in a sudden, cruel twist of fate, Belinda and I found ourselves in Western Australia for the summer and autumn. I’d been thinking of revisiting my friends, Catherine and Robert at Gorge River and then going up Gorge River to the Duncan and onto the Gorge Plateau.  From there we would traverse the Red Hills to Twin Lakes and down into the Cascade trench to Arcade Creek which we visited in January 2020, cross to Collins and reach our food cache in the Arawhata.

 

It was a warm, sunny day on the banks of the Cascade River as we blew up our packrafts. The water was startlingly clear as we glided along the many twists and turns to the Ox Bows. Halfway through them, we found the old farm track that took us over to Nolan’s Hut. Then it was onto the disused and overgrown 4WD track to Barn Bay which we reached in the evening. We walked down the Hope River and had a wee bit of difficulty in navigating the river as the tide was in. I’d arranged to rent Robyn’s house on the airstrip so we had luxury accommodation for our first night.

 

 

 

The weather was still brilliantly fine the next day as we forded the tidal bar of the Hope River and walked south along the boulder beaches. After several hours we came to Sandrock Bluff and had no difficulty in finding the track over it which had recently been marked by Robert with danger tape. Beyond it, the going was easier with sandy beaches a lot of the way. After 8 hours, we arrived at Gorge River and paddled across. We established ourselves in the DOC hut and not long afterwards, a Dunedin couple, Sharon and Joe Bretheron arrived. They had been a few hours behind us and were great company. Catherine came over and asked us all in for a cuppa so we spent a few hours chatting with her and Robert and comparing notes. In the evening we retired back to our hut and had dinner and an early bed.

 

 

 

We stirred early as we expected a big day ahead of us. There are 2 pools at the mouth of the Gorge River which we paddled. There was a strong SW wind blowing which we were glad to leave behind us. The TL offered better going for a long way and then the TR to the mouth of Jerry Creek. About a kilometre further on, we came to the first of a series of small gorges. We traversed above the first one and made the mistake of dropping back to the river only to find the next gorge awkward and time-consuming. More gorges gave us trouble until we decided to climb up to a terrace about 120m above the creek which offered much better going. After several kilometres, we reached the much easier flats. On the TR was a sign "Garand Flat" and the next one "Mistresses Flat" likely old hunter's camps and surprisingly clean and no rubbish discarded. We camped further on under some beech trees in an idyllic setting with the Red Hills filling the head of the valley.

 

 

Day 4 saw us travelling up more flats and on easy deer trails in the bush, a complete contrast to the day before. The flats just below the Duncan were especially nice and I thought it would be a great place to take my grandkids in nice weather. We went a short way up the Duncan and cut up onto hills 463, 660 and 717. We did find some good deer trails but none on top of hill 660 which was slow and scrubby. There were few camping spots and no water so we carried on over hill 717 to just short of the summit of hill 906. Here we struck some awful terrain of large boulders covered in moss. It was painstakingly slow. We eventually reached a dried-up tarn just short of the first flats on the Gorge Plateau and camped in a nice flat dry area. A bright spot during the day was seeing a Rifleman feeding on a mossy tree trunk. 

 

 

 

 

On day 5, we were hitting my favourite Red Hills. I had been here twice previously with Gavin but this was Tony’s first. We were able to find open leads across the flats right up onto the Red Hills. We reached ‘Nasgul Lake’, the scene of an epic struggle between a ferocious band of winged Nasguls and us, several years previously. There was still evidence of this battle – an ominous pile of stones, where we once camped. I remember vividly the night they came for us – outflanking us on every side, moving stealthily in till a swift blow by Gavin with his walking pole resulted in a loud protest. But I proudly delivered the ‘coup de grâce’ – a mortar round into the scrub where they were squawking resulting in an explosion of wings and noisy protests as they flew in tight circles just above our tent. Today though there was no sign of them.

 

From here we turned right and gained the main ridge and followed this to Peak 1242. There were great views all around Big Bay and of the flats at the head of Low Creek and beyond Junction Hill. Instead of continuing along the ridge to the south, we sidled underneath on the east side and climbed over the shoulder of Peak 1287 and descended directly to Twin Lakes. What a glorious place, sunny and calm and surrounded by red hills with two large lakes. We got there at 3.00 pm and set up camp on some sere grass near the lake shore. We all went for a wash. In the evening, I noticed a change in the weather as some cloud was blowing in from the west and suspected a weather change in the offing which later proved correct. Across the Cascade trench was the Northern Olivine Range, our last hurdle to the Arawhata. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 6 saw us walk around the lake and climb over the shoulder of Peak 1315, dropping towards Arcade Creek. The terrain is red ultramafic rocks with sparse vegetation some of which was Dwarf Rata. We skirted some vertical cliffs and picked up a very steep gully of large red rocks leading down to the Cascade. It required the utmost concentration as a slip would have serious consequences. Once down, we entered a scrubby forest and pushing through this we came to the confluence of the Cascade and Arcade rivers. Fording these was not easy but after several attempts, we made it across. Tony led the way and picked the best spots. Then Gavin scouted out a deer trail leading up into Arcade and for a while, this went well as we climbed swiftly upwards. At around 550m the trail disappeared in windfall and despite all our efforts, we could not pick it up again. Pushing onwards was now much more difficult through dense forest, crown ferns, and steep gullies.

 

 

 

 

 

The day had clouded over and then it started to drizzle. I thought this was just a passing shower as no rain was expected in our forecast but no, it just got heavier. By the time I realized this, I was soaked as the bush was dripping wet. And where was the great deer trail of our previous visit? It now became a real struggle pushing through wet, dripping forest, finding the odd deer trail that would suddenly vanish. Tony and Gavin led the way as I was too whacked by the effort, unsuccessfully willing this purgatory to end. Up and down steep the bush spurs, across steep creeks, crawling under fallen trees – an endless succession of relentless obstacles . . .  cold, wet and tired.

 

The flats were a welcome sight and the tall tussock grass soaked our shorts. There was our old campsite under the beech trees – forlorn and dismal but still the best one in the valley so far. It was a relief to drop our packs and get the tents up. We were all tired and eager to get out of the rain. That night, we got the forecast on our InReach and the bombshell – several more days of this – we’d have to ration our food – tough times ahead. I silently cursed myself for not bringing more emergency food and clothing – I’d become too complacent because of all the fine weather we had all summer – I was going to pay a high price for my omission. 

 

 

 

Day 7 started badly. Gavin was keen to push on to the tarn at 1280m just below the pass over the mountains but after discussion, we decided it would be safer to hang out here on the flats. Our situation was difficult but not desperate – we’d have to be very careful of our dwindling food supplies. It rained all day. A sombre mood pervaded the team but at least the 4 Whio in the creek below us were happy. Gavin lent me a spare thermal top as a lot of my clothes were wet. I slept well that night.

 

On day 8, it was still raining. The ‘Dark Cloud’ forecast predicted rain for another 4 days. It’s a long way up to the tarn below the pass but I’m not keen to attempt this until the weather is more settled. The team is rearing to go but it’s not the right decision until the weather clears.

 

Day 9 and it's still raining and our hopes of leaving are dashed. The nearby creek is up and will prove another obstacle. I look morosely at my dwindling rations and wonder if I'll have enough energy to tackle the climb over the Northern Olivines – dark thoughts about our prospects. I study the map intently – is there another shorter route and . . . yes, I can see one but in a brief clearance, I study the distant terrain and I'm not so sure as bands of cliffs line the route. I lie in the tent listening to heavy drops of rain rattle drumming on the tent roof and the roar of the creek down below us. Things are not good but could be much worse. For lunch, I have a meal of 4 crackers and 1 slice of processed cheese. In the afternoon, we have a brief clearance and sun for a few minutes. I name our campsite "Camp Misery".

 

By 1600 hours, the rain is hammering down in torrential showers. Maybe we’ll get good weather in another 2 days. If we don’t cross by day 12, I doubt we will as we’ll be too weak from lack of food. It feels like a Shackelton Expedition – he was one of my kinsmen – one of my heroes. I keep these thoughts to myself as morale is low in the camp. Then I cast my mind back to more great survival stories like the one of James Scott, who was lost for 43 days in the Langtang Himalayas in 1992. The tale is recounted in the book "Lost in the Himalayas". And there is the extraordinary story of my friend Matt Briggs who survived a week in the mountains near the Horace Walker Hut after a fall off Gladiator Peak sustaining lacerations and fractures. He saved himself when the cavalry failed to arrive.

http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/2305592/Epic-trek-for-survival

And there is my own survival story on the Northern Patagonian Icecap years ago in a terrific storm. Maybe our situation is not all that bad!

 

The days tick on and I lie in my sleeping bag in a sort of suspended animation . . . thinking. Maybe I’m too old for this kind of s@#*. I put the time to good use planning various family tasks and redesigning my conservation projects and doing trips with my grandkids who I’ll be seeing soon in Western Australia. I write a few draft letters to various organisations about altering the conservation projects.

 

On day 10, it finally looks like it's clearing and we pack up and leave early in the afternoon. On our previous trip, we had a tousle with the scrub in the upper valley. This time we find an easier route but the climb up the spur to the tarn was very difficult through nasty dense forest. It took us 5 hours to make the tarn. A cold wind greeted us. At our campsite, there was the ominous pile of stones used as ammunition on our previous visit to ward off more rapacious Nasguls. We wasted no time in getting the tent pitched and having a meagre dinner.

 

By 11 saw us climb up to the pass leading over to Collins. A strong, cold wind battered our ascent but later improved once over into the sunlit valley beyond. The descent was straightforward down to the tussock meadows below. We made for hill 1230 overlooking a cataract and gorge. On the other side of the hill, we started our descent. Steep slopes led to vertical bluffs and we spent some time reconnoitring them. Our first try failed and then we spotted an easier line closer to the cataract which went easily down to the next level. We carried on down the TL to the subalpine scrub which proved a major obstacle. It was a combination of Olearia, Fushia, Coprosma and Dracophyllum – dense and ineluctable – devoid of deer trails and very difficult to negotiate. Our speed dropped to 3 hours a kilometre. Eventually, we reached the beech forest but this too was slow going with a dense understory of scrubby plants and steep terrain. We sidled leftwards to a tributary stream of Collins Creek but it was all hard going. At 6.30 pm, we found an open area in the forest and decided to camp. Our food and water supplies were now nearly exhausted but morale was now high as the food cache was much closer. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On day 12, we set off on a good deer trail leading to the tributary 400m away. It was no surprise when we promptly lost it. I had hoped once we got onto the spur on the far side that it would be easier but not so. Crown ferns made it difficult and our route intersected with lots so gullies dropping towards the tributary now on our right. After 5.5 hours of difficult travel, we burst out of the stygian forest onto the Arawhata flats. Great joy erupted in the company and we seemed to have a new lease of life as we headed down the flats to McTavish Creek. There we retrieved r food caches, set up camp and . . . ate. The sun was blazing down and it was rather arcadian.

 

 

 

There was a heavy dew overnight leaving the tent outer very wet. We packed up and walked over to the Arawhata River on the other side of the valley and launched. It was joyous riding along the current down this mighty river. After a while Gavin noticed his raft getting soft. His previous repair of a leak near the mouthpiece had come adrift so every 1-2 km we had to stop so he could reinflate the raft. In the afternoon, we came to the DOC campsite opposite Callery Flat and stopped. That evening Tony and Gavin repaired the leak with Aquaseal FD and left it to set overnight. This proved successful so we made good time down to Neils Beach on day 14. We had left one vehicle parked at the Hughes house there so after retrieving Gavin’s van at Martyrs, we were homeward bound.

 

 

 

Acknowledgements: Thanks to my great friends Gavin and Tony. Without your enthusiasm and strength, we would not have succeeded. Thanks to Catherine and Robert at Gorge River, legends and inspirational friends. Thanks to Robyn Hoglund for letting us rent her house at Barn Bay. Thanks to Sharon and Joe Bretheron for your company at Gorge River.

 

Photos by Stanley and Tony.

 

Stanley Mulvany

04/03/2023