Tiropahi Canyon 29 April

Despite a very late start, the allure of a warm, cloudless day and low river levels beckoned us into the narrow depths of Tiropahi Canyon. I had driven over the bridge at its start countless times, always slowing to peer downstream. Several times I had attempted to persuade people to do a trip with me, but river levels, cold weather and laziness remained persistent and effective excuses. Sara was all too keen (and trusting) so we organized gear and set off under the bridge in the early afternoon. Although I knew vaguely what to expect from the canyon, to my satisfaction it proved to be more narrow, scenic and challenging than I anticipated.

Upstream the Tiropahi lazily cuts its way through some beautiful limestone scenery. Here at the start of the canyon, the river encounters hard gneissic basement rock, which it vigorously cuts on its hundred-meter descent to the Tasman Sea. At its start we swam a few still pools and negotiated our way down some shallow but swift boulder rapids to where a great 1.5m diameter log was wedged lengthwise across a dark and intimidating narrows beyond. After a few moments' appreciation, we climbed on down, realizing there would be no turning back.




Peering into the start of the narrows

All too soon it became obvious we were not going to be seeing that glorious sun for quite a while as the narrow canyon was trending the wrong way to catch the sun at this hour. The surprisingly frigid, tannin-stained waters were a thick inky-black in the shadows. Strong reflections on the surface were nearly impenetrable, which added extra uncertainty to each step we took. Unfortunately due to the poor visibility several superb-looking cliff jumps were passed up because water depth and obstacles could not be confirmed.

Several long swims down the narrows brought us to several small waterfalls, which we carefully downclimbed or bypassed, including three short jumps. At one point we downclimbed into a 2m deep breached pothole and swam through its small exit. In a couple places logs just below the surface of the water were used as balance beams. Considering the low water levels, the river still had a good flow to it. I noticed several obstacles and hydraulics that would become very dangerous in higher water. It was a beautiful stretch of canyon, though alas too dark to get good photos of with my camera. After a very narrow two hundred meters of canyon, the canyon opens a bit wider, though still with several swims and obstacles to surmount. Ahead in the distance we could see sun entering at the turn in the canyon and before long we could hear the roar of the 25m waterfall- truly an awesome sight. Sunlight mixed with the uprising mist from the falls to create a dramatic golden atmospheric haze. After spending about 5 minutes trying to thread a chockstone, we finally succeeded and rigged a solid two-point anchor for the drop. I went down first, finding my googles quite handy as I stood in the brain-numbing spray to give Sara a fireman's belay if needed. The rope pulled fine and off we went across the long turbulent pool at the base of the falls.


Near the end of the narrows


Abseiler at top right

A half kilometer of scrambling and wading between 200m high walls brought us to some faded pink flagging tape I hoped marked a trail that would get us back up the hill to the road. We removed wetsuits and had a quick snack as the sun set over the seldom-visited, rocky West Coast beach. The track was overgrown at first, but the quality quickly improved and was easy to follow until we reached the top of the hill. Here the flagging disappeared and we spent about fifteen minutes trying to pick the track up again in the dark. In the end, we found it and shortly after the track was very easy to follow apart from a painful 30m stretch that involved caving through gorse. The return hike from the beach took us about an hour. Once back at the car, we made a quick dinner, satisfied with the day's adventure.


Thanks to Sara.