The Great Journey_ A Traverse of the Southern Alps Part 1

This is my story of a traverse of the Southern Alps of New Zealand. It is not a unique journey as it has been done many times. I recently retired from clinical medicine and this was my ‘retirement plan’. Initially I planned to complete a round of all the ‘Munros’ in Scotland of which there are 282 summits. These are the peaks over 3000 feet high.  Over several years I’ve climbed over 30 of them, with my great Scottish friend, Frank Johnstone, from Boat of Garten.  However I was put off after reading several books on the Munros and the terrible weather to be expected. Instead I decided I would tackle the Southern Alps. I would have no fixed schedule, only go when the weather was favourable and pick off various sections in no particular order. To the purist this might seem haphazard but for me it made eminent sense and much more fun than slogging it out in filthy weather as one continuous journey.

Just before Christmas I spent over 4 weeks in Nepal with Bryan Scott on an earthquake survey. I was fairly fit after walking over the Langtang Mountains during that trip. Then in the New Year, I joined some friends from the Southland Section of the NZAC for a trip across the Bracken Snowfields and the Waitaha. Following this I joined Simon Marwick for a traverse of Poseidon Creek over to Lake Liz and down the Transit River and Anita Bay...all good training for the traverse.

I started on 12th February. The previous night I stayed with Neil and Shona at Albertown on my drive north. I arose early, had breakfast, left a ‘Thank You’ note, and drove on to Waddington, where my brother-in-law Geoffrey lives. There I checked the weather forecast and saw it was only good for a few days, so on the spur of the moment I asked Geoffrey to drop me off at the Bealey Bridge, the same day. He had a few jobs to do so it was late before he dropped me off. It was the eve of the ‘Coast to Coast’ race and there was a big encampment at Klondyke Corner. I set off at 7.30pm and moved along quickly. I did not stop till 9.00pm as I had difficulty finding water and it was just about dark before I camped. I slept well as I was quite tired.

 

 

I woke at dawn to a still and overcast day. The sandflies were active as I had a quick breakfast and then I was off. Not far along was Anti-Crow Hut. There was a German woman tramper there whom was bound for Carrington Hut. I was keen to keep going so did not stay to chat more. It took me 3 hours to reach Carrington Hut and by then it was sunny and hot, as the sun had burned off the low cloud. It must be over 40 years since I was last here and I was surprised to see such a large hut. It was empty. I dried out my tent and had an early lunch before setting off yet again. 

I crossed the White River and found an easy route up the boulder bed of the Taipoiti River to Harman Pass. I met a group of trampers lolling around at a creek just below the pass and one of the girls was wearing a very skimpy bikini. I had to tear my eyes away to avoid staring! Harman Pass was unremarkable and off to the left I could see Whitehorn Pass, which at 1753 meters had a permanent snowfield leading up to it. This was a slog across boulder fields then up glacial snow to the pass. The slopes on the left were collapsing and large boulders had fallen onto the snow. . . not a place to linger. There was a great view here of the Cronin Glacier on Mt Rosamond to the right of the pass and down to Cronin Creek. I had a second lunch. 

There was a zigzag path down the scree just below the low point of the pass that went on and on. The route follows down benches on the true left for a long way before dropping into the creek. I was strolling along when I saw an unusual ‘rock’ that looked like a person staring down valley. This materialized into a young hunter called ‘Ash’ who was out spotting game. I dropped my pack and climbed up to him and asked if he was all right. He was startled by my sudden appearance. We chatted for a while, and then I carried on. At 1000m the route crosses to the true right and shortly after enters the bush with a few ups and down across side creeks to Park Morpeth Hut. I had been on the go for 12 hours and was relieved to reach the hut. It was empty. It was built in the 1931 by the CMC (Canterbury Mountaineering Club) as a memorial to 2 young climbers, James Park and John Morpeth who lost their lives, drowning in the Burnett River, a tributary of the Wilberforce River nearby. The hut though old was comfortable and had a mountain radio. There was a request of a donation of $5.00 for use of the shut, which I gratefully left.

 

I had a good sleep and awoke refreshed. The sky was clear and we were still in the shade as I closed the door on the hut and set off up the Wilberforce River towards Browning Pass. At the top of the river was the Clough Memorial on a terrace, in remembrance of Allan Clough who drowned in the Wilberforce River on 26/01/1956. Above was a steep slope with an old zigzag track, built by miners year ago that ended in a cliff face, the proverbial road to nowhere! I slowly gained height on the overgrown track, then climbed straight up to a short cliff face that I ascended to the pass at 1411m. What a grand sight, a lovely lake nestled in a shallow basin to the north. There was an easy track around it and as the day was sunny and warm, I was looking forward to a lazy swim once I got there. I was just about to stop for my swim when I noticed a large group of trampers come over the rise from the far end of the lake. This sort of killed my enthusiasm for a dip! They were a group of 17 from Outward Bound and Kupewatch, on a day trip from Harman Hut further on in the Arahura Valley. That was bad news for me as I had hoped to stay there. I dropped down towards the river and stopped by a creek for a wash, then carried on down to the river and into the subalpine scrub to the hut. It was packed with gear with lots of tarps and a tent outside so after lunch I carried on. There was a swing bridge and a good track took me down the Arahura and then up to the low Styx Saddle and down at the Styx Valley to Grassy Hut, thankfully empty. Here I read in the hut book that Robert Porte, an old climbing friend was a day ahead of me. I arrived at 5pm, a 10.5 hour day. It was good to stop at last.  So far the good weather had lasted but for how long?

 

On 15th February it was cloudy on the tops as I set off for the crossing of Lathrop Saddle to the Crawford. A short walk down the TL of the Styx brought me to the track to Browning Range Bivouac. It was a steep climb up through the forest to a creek bed that led up to another track on the TL of it. The hut was right on top of a knoll at 1100m and it took me the recommended 2-hours to reach it. Just before it was a sign that read, “If you’re just about buggered, you’re just about there”. This was most encouraging! The bivi was tiny with only room for 2 and too small to stand upright in unless you were a hobbit or leprechaun. After a brief stop I pushed on up to the bushline where a spur led to Lathrop Saddle at 1572m. Some keas paid me a visit and were surprising well behaved. The saddle was broad and cut right through the mountain range. There are normally a few tarns in it but they were dry or nearly so. On the far side I stopped for lunch. The route is down to the right on scree and then tussock and is marked with poles. It took me 6 hours to make the crossing to the Top Crawford Hut. I had this nice 4-bunk hut all to myself. I had a bath in the river, washed some clothes, lit the tiny pot bellied stove and made lots of hot drinks. I decided life was not too bad after this. I noticed Robert was still a day ahead of me. 

 

I had a restless night as I was worried about the weather and wondered if I should have pushed on the day before. I was aware Farquharson Creek down the valley was impassable after rain. It was cloudy but it felt like rain was no far off. I had breakfast in the dark and left at first light. There was good travel along the riverbed for a while and then I headed up a track into the bush. The track was well cut and made for easy travel. Farquharson Creek was no problem to cross and then it was down to Crawford Junction by 9.15am. It had taken me 3 hours. The last time I’d been here was in December 2008 with Fischer Thomas and David Waugh and we’d been marooned for 3 days in pouring rain. I was keen not to have a repeat of this so carried on to the cableway, a bit up Kokatahi Creek. This was a bit tricky to operate solo as the cage did not reach the platform and I had to hold the wire and climb down to it, carefully load my pack into it, then jump in and run into the middle of the creek. On the floor was a metal lever and by applying this to the thick cable, I could winch the cage to the other side. The track was now on the TL of the Kokatahi River and I slowly gained height. Then it started to drizzle and it became a real slog. When I was boulder hopping along, I found a basin sized hot pool beside the river. There was a smell off sulphur in the air and typical hot pool algae in that area. I reached the swing bridge to the old Top Kokatahi hut site and crossed expecting to see a well-defined track on the other side, which my map showed, but none was evident. There was a ‘flood route’ put in by the Permolat group but it would have been an awful bush bash. Crossing back, I carried on along the disked track/route, which forded the river several time to eventually climb on the TR through subalpine scrub. Then Hallelujah, I could see the hut up ahead, a lovely sweet home. Shortly after I got in the rain came on in earnest and the mist descended but I did not care. I decided I’d stay here till the weather improved and it was an opportunity to rest up in any case. 

On 17th I awoke to teaming rain, which I had slept through thanks to my earplugs. It was not really cold as is typical in northerly fronts. I noted the barometric pressure on my Suunto watch had dropped a lot overnight. I had a bath outside and a shave and felt much better. I was relieved to be here, knowing the difficult river crossings were behind me and I had only Zit Saddle to cross to the Toharoa. I had a lazy day, reading and eating. There was an interesting entry in the hut book, which I enjoyed, that read

“Kia Ora, Another story from the “God is great series”. After slogging our guts out up this beautiful valley from the Crawford Junction Villa, we finally reached this beautiful hut. I was pretty knackered but on looking out the south window I saw a beautiful sight on the lavatory track. I called my mate over, as I was worried I was hallucinating but she confirmed that there were 9 cans of beer on the track. We immediately scanned the hut book, checked the lav, yelled out in all 4 directions but receiving no reply presumed it was a miraculous manifestation. We took 2 cans for scientific analysis and 2 as brown wine in lieu of red wine for our evening meal. Delicious. We have left 5 for any other students of the hop who may pass this way. You will have to find them but they are out of the sun. If you don’t think it’s a miracle, and can solve the mystery or if you want a refund send the docket to “Jim Cossie, RD1 Runanga 7873”. May God bless all who reach this hut (on foot)”.

By 6pm the weather was clearing and the mountains appeared in the cloud wrack, just an amazing transformation from earlier in the day. Some darker clouds were smoking off a grey rock peak down valley. The subalpine bush was a deep olive green and the mountain holly was covered in its white flowers, time for ‘forest bathing’ soaking up the ambience of my surroundings! The only negative was that the barometric pressure continued to fall so I guessed this was just a temporary lull. Still I felt a deep contentment just being here and enjoying the power of nature and its many moods.

 

Next day, it was still overcast with the odd hint of blue coming through and the rain had stopped. Even though the barometric pressure was still quite low, I decided to try to cross Zit Saddle. I left at 8.00am climbing up the streambed near the hut where there was the odd marker pole. The tussock was saturated and my shorts got soaked quickly but the exertion kept me warm. The route crossed the ridgeline north of Zit Saddle at 1540m in mist. From here it was a steep descent and I had some difficulty in locating the route markers. Once out of the cloud, I could see the orange Adventure Bivi on a tussock clearing far below me over to the right. Once off the steeper slopes, the route wound around the scrub and then I was there. It was drizzling and cool. The Bivi was small, very small with just 1 bunk with 3 mattresses piled on top. Goodness knows where there was room to spread them out in such a tiny space. I ate some chocolate and then carried on. On the other side of the clearing the route dropped down steeply through forest and it was well maintained and warmer out of the wind. I reached the valley floor and then crossed a swing bridge over a gorge and on to Cedar Flats. On this last leg the rain just bucketed down and I was pleased my old EarthSeaSky Zeal jacket kept the moisture at bay. At the hut I finally caught up with Robert Porte. The last time trip we did together was many year ago when we crossed the Arawhata Saddle to the Arawhata Valley, Mt Athene, Mt Iona, Mystery Col, Snowball Glacier to the Whitbourne Valley and beyond. That was an epic trip!

 

I spent the rest of the day at Cedar Flats hut, which is commodious, and in a pleasant location with lovely stands of Cedar nearby. It was interesting catching up with Robert. It rained all day as it did the next day. We decided to stay put as the river was in flood and no doubt the side creeks too. I shared some of my provisions with Robert who was running low on food. We finally got under way on 20th as the river level had dropped and it was just drizzling. It was an easy walk out to the road end but taking the high level route lower down the river meant an extra hour. We met some young guys carrying in their kayaks and stopped for a chat. Just past the car park at the Toharoa we passed a Wilderness Shuttle van dropping off some trampers and I stopped it on the way out and bought a ride to Hokitika to be dropped off at David and Glenys place. Here, I was given a great welcome and lunch. David was keen to join me on the leg from the Hokitika Gorge to Erewhon and skip the Toharoa to Frew leg. I figured I could do that missing link later. David pointed out a shorter link from the Toharoa to the Hokitika Gorge by going up from Cedar Flats to Squall Peak and Jumble Peak and down Gerhardt’s Spur. 

On 23rd February Belinda drove David and me to the Hokitika Gorge. It was an overcast day as we plodded off up the river. Near Rapid Hut we crossed on the cableway reaching the hut in 2 hours from the road end. After lunch we set off fording Rapid Creek, which was fast flowing, and tricky, then boulder hopped along to the Whitcombe River. Then it was up a track into the bush to reach the swing bridge above Colliers Gorge, which we crossed. Shortly after our trip, a young kayaker was drowned just here. From high on the bridge, the river is just a mass of white water in a tight gorge. It was an easy walk to Frew Hut. We arrived at 3.30pm in cloudy skies with some sun breaks. Soon after we arrived 5 North Island trampers arrived from Frew Saddle. They were very chatty and good company.

 

We got away at 8.00am next day and made good time to Prices Flat Hut. The track was mostly good but my pack felt awfully heavy and I had a sore back. We got there in 3.5 hours to find a young Frenchman there. He had come from Erewhon and recounted a perilous crossing of the Rakaia River. It sounded like he was lucky not to have drowned. We stopped for an hour then continued on to the Wilkinson Hut. The track had many ups and downs and the tree roots were very slippery. It took us 5.5 hours to reach the hut and we were both pretty tired by the effort. There we met Eigill Walhberg, who is a DOC worker and out for a stroll for a few days. The hut was small with 4 bunks and one needed to be a contortionist to use the top one was. Eigill showed me a Blue Duck that likely had been killed by a stoat that he found nearby. 

 

On 25th we had a lazy start and it took us 2.5 hours to reach Neave Hut in a clearing in the subalpine scrub further up the valley.  We polished off a tin of baked spaghetti that David had found in the previous hut. We spent the day here and I had a bath and shave to while the time away. The Whitcombe Pass from Canterbury to the West Coast was known to and crossed by Maori in pre-European times but Harper saddle further north was an easier route, more frequently used. Europeans, John Whitcombe and Jakob Lauper first crossed the Whitcombe Saddle in 1863. It is a tale of epic hardship, arduous travel and starvation. On the West Coast, Whitcombe drowned in the Taramakau River. There is a television documentary on it “First Crossings” by Jamie Fitzgerald and Kevin Biggar that I’d seen previously and first kindled my interest. I noted in the hut book an entry by them when they flew in to make the film, several years back.

On 26th we woke to a cloudy day that promised fine weather with the odd patch of blue showing through. Off we went and soon arrived at the ‘Gateway’, 2 large pinnacles of rock by the river The route was boulder hopping and short patches of track in the sodden bush. The weather improved all the time till it was sunny but a cool wind blew and grew stronger the higher we climbed. It took us 4 hours to the pass. Then it was a gradual descent across tussock and riverbed to the Lauper Creek and the Rakaia valley beyond. The wind grows stronger and blew my hat into the Lauper River. David managed to retrieve it 100m lower down. Unfortunately I lost it later on Gerhardt’s Spur! We went straight out into the Rakaia Valley hoping to cross to Reisch Hut but the river was huge and malevolent so we walked up the valley through a gale force wind to the Ramsey Lake and crossed at the outlet where it was deep but slow moving. We linked up and made our way slowly across. Waves washed down the lake and slopped up into David’s armpit! I would not have had the courage to do it by myself. Once across I stopped to take a photo and good grief my glasses flew off and disappeared in the gale. David ran after them and retrieved them but unfortunately they were badly scratched. We then carried on up to the Lyall River that David said would be easy to ford but one look altered our plans. We then walked down river past Meins Knob where there was a swing bridge and used this to cross to the TR. Then it was down to Reischek Hut. 

This is a lovely 6-bunk Hut built by the NZDA in 1963 and open to all. It is in the lee of a bush spur and protected from the Northwesterlies. The rain came on later. We spent a comfortable night here. The following day it was still very windy with fast moving clouds on the Divide peaks so we decided to stay put. We picked up the forecast on the mountain radio, which promised an improvement later that day. I did true usual things like repairs, wash and laundry. We dragged some mattresses onto the porch and lazed in the sun. Such hardship! The wind dropped in the evening. It’s an awesome place in the Upper Rakaia with the golden stony flats and scrub covered grey mountains and glacier shrouded Lauper Peak.

 

The 28th dawned fine and the wind had dropped. We strode up the flats to Miens Knob and climbed the track to the top of the hill. There were great views of Mt Whitcombe, Ramsey and the Lyall Glaciers. Then it was an easy climb up the ridge and sidle high up to the Butler Saddle at 1870m. On the far side was a 500m descent on scree to the stream draining into the Lawrence. Then it was down the Lawrence to the Lawrence Bivouac, a nice 2-person ‘hen house’ that we reached at 3.15pm. It is situated on a large tussock clearing and very inviting in the warm sun. We stopped here for a few hours and had a brew-up. Interestingly in the hut book I saw an entry by an’ Emma Richardson’, address ‘No fixed abode’ who seemed to be in all the hut books that I’d stayed in. I recognized a few other names like ‘Shaun Barnett’,  ‘Geoff Spearpoint’, ‘Jon Taylor’ and ‘Robert Porte’. It’s a small mountaineering world in NZ. After a rest we felt a lot better and I suggested we push on to the Hermitage musters hut further down the valley. David was keen, so off we went in the evening when it was cooler and more pleasant. On arrival we found the hut locked so camped outside in David’s tiny tent.

 

On 29th we left for Erewhon. It was an easy walk along the riverbed of the Lawrence and Clyde with numerous easy fords.  We reached it late morning. The manager let David ring his brother in Ashburton who had offered to come and give us a ride out. Then 2 Australians, who had drive in for a look, gave us a lift out and we meet his brother near the tar seal. He drove us to Waddington where I had left my car and Belinda joined us for the drive back to the West Coast to drop David off in Hokitika.

 

Two days later on 2nd March, Belinda dropped me off at the entry to the Toharoa Valley. I was about to close the loop! It took me 3 hours to walk back to Cedar Flats. After a brief spell for lunch I set off up the unmaintained track to Squall Peak. The start was not obvious and it took me 30 minutes to locate it just past a creek on the TL just down from Cedar Flats. Then it was a steep climb to bush line. Higher up in the tussock we entered cloud but I had reset my altimeter so was confident I had reached Squall Peak when it registered 1420m. On then to Jumble peak in cloud at 1610m. Beyond it I dropped to a saddle at 1550m. Here the map suggested I drop off to the west down to Gerhardt’s Spur. Then the fun started. Down I went in clag and rain on a compass bearing seeking the elusive spur. I ran into cliffs on the right and moving, left the land dropped away very steeply. It was very confusing so I climbed up to the saddle again to re-orientate myself and had another go. This time I got lower down to 1400m on easy ground but again ran into cliffs in every direction.  Thoughts of a bivi out crossed my mind but I had no tent or bivi sac so it would be a last resort. Then I noticed an old deer trail so I decide to follow it. Deer know a thing or two from my past experience.  Down, down till it seemed to drop off a spur down a very steep bluff. Carefully descending this a little ways, I could look below the cloud layer down to a creek way below me, definitely not the way!  Carefully climbing up about 30m I moved to the right and bingo there was my spur running horizontally along with a trail on the crest. I thanked God profusely. The spur led to the most wonderful 2-man bivi in the whole world. In comparison to every other hut I’d been to on this trip, this was infrequently visited. 

On 3rd March I started at 8.00am as B was picking me up at noon and I figured 4 hours would be ample. The track along this huge spur was fairly indistinct but I made good time to the 800m level. Here the ridge blends into a face and the indistinct track disappeared completely. I spent ages trying to locate it from the last permolat marker without success. Stupidly I did not take a proper compass bearing and guessed where I was (incorrectly) and ploughed on down towards distant farmland I could see through the trees. This was a bad mistake! The terrain was steep and I blundered into a maze of deeply riven gullies choked with windfall, ferns, waterfalls, supple jack and lawyer.  I tried to sidle out but it was not possible so kept on down. One bright spot was an open slip of about 100m that I carefully down climbed. I ended up in a greasy, slippery creek and fell head first down a small waterfall getting totally drenched in the process with my leg jammed between 2 logs (sigh!). It was not much fun!! Finally I spotted a major creek down below me and reached it. A short distance along it joined another large creek on the left and entered farmland. I was saved!!  Another hour on farm tracks and road took me to the car park at the Hokitika Gorge, 3 hours late for my pickup by Belinda.

I was glad to have covered this section of the Southern Alps, which is one of the harder sections. A few days later I did some of the Araroa Trail south of Lewis Pass while Belinda was paddling Lake Sumner. At Hope Halfway Hut I had the misfortune to run into a large school party so turned back to the Hope Kiwi Lodge to spend a quiet night there. Then we went to Kopara and Belinda paddled Lake Ahoura. I headed home to Invercargill to catch up on business and planned to continue the journey a little later.

The Gumotex 5 Expedition_ Poseidon Creek to Transit Valley and Anita Bay

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The inspiration for this trip came from an article written by Danilo Hegg on his trip up Mackay Creek to the Transit Valley in January 2014. Their route was different both at the start and at the end and our trip ended on a happier note, as Danilo was helied out from Anita Bay with a fractured arm. There were some logistical issues with our trip as I was not keen on packrafting all the way back from Anita Bay to Milford. Belinda came to our rescue and offered to kayak out to Anita Bay and tow out our inflatable Gumotex kayak.

Simon Marwick has been on all our previous ‘Gumotex Expeditions’ and was keen to come which was great. We had planned to go around 22 January but delayed starting till the forecast improved. We finally got under way on Tuesday 26^th and spent the night at Sue’s place in Te Anau. Leaving early next day we drove to Fisherman’s Wharf in Milford Sound where we launched our packrafts for the paddle over to Sandfly Point. I found this quite difficult as the wind and the river current was against me.

The walk up to the mouth of Poseidon Creek was pleasant enough on the well-made Milford Track. Once there we stopped for lunch and then set off up Poseidon Creek. This is the one, just valley north of Mackay Creek that Danilo and his party took. Once you leave the track you are in primeval forest. Further along we struck a marked track that serviced stoat traps for some way along the true right of Poseidon Creek. Unfortunately this did not go very far, so it was back into bush bashing. Not only was it thick bush but there were tall ferns on the forest floor so one could not judge ones footing. Here we suffered several ‘PIEs’ (poked in the eye) and Simon had a ‘PIN’ (poked in the neck, enough to draw blood). Needless to say it was not a ball of fun! This sort of country numbs the mind, a sort of protective reflex to make progress possible. Hours later we arrived at a small lake surrounded by very wet marshland. We packrafted across and tried several landings only to find swamp grass covered in a foot of water.

Then we paddled up the incoming creek and on a high bank managed to trample down tall swamp grass to find a place for the tent. It was not ideal but that was the only possibility. We were both soaked from the sodden bush. To add to our misery, a weka appeared and persisted in annoying us by trying to sneak off with gear. I was glad to crash after dinner.

Just after daybreak on day two I crawled out of the tent. The sky was overcast and threatened rain. After breakfast we set off through chest high ferns and semi-open flats towards the river. There we found small beaches along the river that made for fast travel. Alas this did not last too long and we were forced back into subalpine scrub and dense ferns as the river cascaded down from above. In the distance we could see the waterfalls on the face below the upper valley but it was a real struggle to reach them. The rain started and we were soaked again. More mind numbing travel. We worked our way up the true left of the river and at the top found a pool, then crossed the river and ground our way up open slopes with slabs and the odd bit of scrub. At the top we entered the upper valley and what a delight. We camped beside a tongue of beech forest. It had stopped raining, the sun came out and life was beautiful.

After lunch, Simon set off to check out the route described in Moir’s guide on the headwall on the true right. At the base were slabs angling up to the right and above them some tussock slopes and way left another tongue of beech forest. I was content to dry out gear and have a bath in a nearby creek and eat! Scanning the face it appeared there might be a good route just to the right of the high tongue of beech forest by climbing straight up some vertical buttresses to a line of weakness across the face. I was wrong on that account, as we shortly were to learn.

We left after daybreak on Friday and climbed the slabs Simon had reconnoitred the previous day. On top we decided to climb straight up and this was quite exposed and tricky with our heavy packs. Above we reached some tussock basins and came up to the vertical bluffs I’d seen from our camp the previous day. There appeared to be 2 possibilities so we roped up and I set off up the right hand one. After about 40 feet and no possibility of a runner I began to have second thoughts. There was no possibility of climbing up these with our packs even with a top rope so I carefully backed down. Next we investigated the left hand crack but this too looked very difficult.

Thing were not looking promising at all as we descended down to the left to check out another ledge system. It was sunny and warm so we sat down to scan the face over to our left. There was a shrill whistle and suddenly a chamois dashed down the near vertical cliffs in front of us maybe 200 meters away. What a display of agility and grace as this magnificent animal cruised down in total control over death defying drops into the valley below. Then I thought maybe that’s the route after all. So I left my pack and decided to solo across the face on little ledges and tussock leads between steep cliffs. Yes, it will go I thought. Once we started it did not seem so bad and after a few false leads we were steadily gaining height climbing up in a northwesterly direction. By now the cloud had come in and we were climbing in mist. My altimeter registered 1400m exactly when we reached a wide col that matched the map so we were confident we were above Lake Liz.

Down we climbed across easy slopes sidling to the left till we ran into high cliffs dropping away below us. All we could see was mist below and no Lake Liz. Where was the route? The only possibility was to camp to await a clearance. Then it started to drizzle so I dived into the tent after dinner. A lone kea visited us and struck up a friendship with Simon. I was happy to leave them to it. That night Simon got up and gently asked if I was awake and told me there was a magnificent view. The cloud had largely gone and a sliver of moon lightened the sky and there below us was mysterious Lake Liz cupped in an amphitheatre and below that a massive drop off into the Transit while all around were sheer cliffs and dark mountains.

I got up at 5.00am before dawn and got a brew on. A rock wren checked us out before leaving. After breakfast we continued down towards Lake Liz 200m below sidling to the left. Our first try failed as we came to a vertical cliff maybe 30m high. The route description suggested we follow the shelf hard left right to the end of the cirque and here we found a deer trail dropping down easy slopes to Lake Liz. It had taken us 1.5 hours. There was an old DOC bivvy at the lake mostly wrecked. In the past there was Kakapo recovery work done here.   

The route description talks about crossing the lake outlet and descending down very steep rock slabs and snowgrass to the scrub in a northerly direction. We picked up a deer trail and followed it sidling very steep snowgrass slopes till able to reach a tongue of scrub. This we followed or more accurately struggled through, just below the scrub line in a northerly direction to a tussock bench further along that took us to a rocky gully.  Here we descended beside the creek with a scrubby spur on our left and a rock face on our right till stopped by a cliff and waterfall. We figured the deer went into the scrubby spur on our left and sure enough we found a deer trail plunging downwards. Below the cliff we crossed to the true right of the creek down easy scrubby/tussock slopes to the beech forest.

By now it was sunny and easy deer trails wound down the forest floor amid open woodland all the way to the tributary of the Transit where we stopped for lunch. What a delightful spot, warm rocks, a clear bubbling stream, no sandflies and a wonderful stillness and harmony. Then we followed the banks down till quite suddenly the land dropped away to a massive waterfall on our left that was unexpected. It took a bit of route finding to find a way down to the Transit below us. Excellent deer trails led down stream onto fairly level country. My mind slipped back into neutral as the kilometres fell behind us. On and on we plod down the endless forest. We saw several deer and lots of sign. Then on a still section of river we thought we’d launch the pack rafts. A bad move as around the corner was an unseen rapid. We hesitated and then bulked. On we plod till after a 13 hour day we decided to camp in the Lower Transit on a sandy bank among the trees. Simon went for a swim and when he was immersed felt something ticking his toe. On look down there was a large black eel... yuch!

We had hoped to reach Anita Bay to rendezvous with Belinda on Saturday night but in retrospect this was extremely ambitious. I got up at 5.00am and we launched the packrafts onto the still waters of the lower Transit. It was another beautiful day with the sun hitting the tops as we paddled along past the dark beech forest. From Google Earth I had seen an open creek bed coming down from a pass at 560m on the mountains behind Anita Bay and joining the Transit near a dogleg where a large swamp started on the south side of the river. Here we pulled out, packed up the boats and started across punga-covered flats to the creek bed. We climbed easily to 150m where a deer trail entered the bush on our true left. This continued upwards onto a spur to 750m just below the summit of peak 811m to the SE of our pass.

There were some large open areas on the spacious top where deer had obviously congregated and once past these we found another trail heading down to the pass. Below this on the north side an open creek bed led easily down to Anita Bay. There were great views of the bay to the north all the way to Madagascar beach and Yates Point. Once we hit the coast we walked along to the ‘Crazy Hut’. I could see Belinda’s kayak on the beach and her tent among the trees but no Belinda. Behind the beach along the trees was a stone hut that I think was built by John Boultbee and his sealing gang in the 19^th century but maybe it was a later addition. Simon went for a swim while I donned extra sandfly protection and man were they bad!

Later in the afternoon Belinda arrived clutching some water containers. It has been an expedition to find some water, somewhat ironic for one of the wettest places on earth. She had an interesting tale to tell of a 10.5 hour day beating into a headwind from Fisherman’s Wharf in Milford Sound to near the heads towing the Gumotex inflatable kayak, which sometimes got blown upside down and being blown backwards in a strong onshore wind, of retreating to Mitre Peak only to beat her way out again to the heads, of landing on a tiny beach opposite Dale Point and spending a noisy night with possums and seals and an early start next day to Anita Bay for a calm paddle at last.

We decided to leave right away. Belinda took my boots and packraft on her afterdeck and Simon and I our packs and his packraft into our now loaded Gumotex. Simon fitted the skeg before we left but it was still a job to run straight. The tide was ebbing out of the fjord and an onshore wind built the further we got past Dale Point. It was quite bouncy and rough so we rafted up and Belinda raised her sail and away we sped. Simon was singing and I was praying, as I was sure we’d sink as the kayak filled with water. On we charged with us gripping B’s racing kayak till a batten broke and we started broaching. I found though if we altered the trim on the rafted kayaks we could correct this. At Sindbad beach we landed to empty out the now waterlogged kayak. Here we met some young guys that had just climbed Mitre Peak and one of them asked if I knew ‘Stanley Mulvany’ once he knew we were from Invercargill. How random is that!

Back at Fisherman’s Wharf we met Abe at Roscoes for a natter and I snuck off for a shower in the toilet block, which felt so good after the drenching in the Gumotex. Then it was a drive to Te Anau where we stayed at Sue’s place while Simon made us a lovely dinner.

Acknowledgments: Once again to Simon Marwick for coming on our 5^th Gumotex expedition, for carrying the heaviest load and leading out the route, for good humour and companionship. To Belinda who kayaked out to meet us against heavy odds and persevered in the face of extreme hardship to rescue us. I know I could not have packrafted in from Anita Bay and would have had to resort to begging a lift in a passing fishing boat. Simon who is made of sterner stuff would have tried to packraft in though.