Post-fieldwork I finally had some time to myself to fit in an excursion. My initial plan of a solo packraft down the highly committing Class IV Karamea River seemed like it was perhaps overly ambitious and ill-advised (especially given the weather outlook) and so I opted for a shorter, lower stakes trip down the classic II+ Wairaurahiri River on the southeastern edge of Fiordland. Since my first year in New Zealand in 2006 I had been interested in seeing the rocky-pillared and tarn-sprinkled tops of the Hump Ridge, but was put off by the private guided walk nature of the trail access and the purposely vague rules on walking the track independently. The track has only gained popularity in the last decade and a half, and with the Hump Ridge Track now slated to be NZ's newest Great Walk in 2022, it now seemed as good a time as any. The novel closed loop I envisioned would allow me to tramp from the Rarakau car park along the beach, across the full length of the Hump Ridge tops, packraft down the Wairaurahiri, and return along the historic South Coast track. Though many would choose to do such a loop as a four or five day trip, I was aiming for a 2.5 day trip that would let me escape before a weather-bomb southerly swept in from the sea. Day 1 would involve 31 km of tramping including a 1000m elevation gain/drop and a trackless 8km along the Hump Ridge to Teal Bay Hut on Lake Hauroko. Day 2 would be a 31km packraft and 15km hike. Day 3 would involve a 17 km tramp on track and beach back to the trailhead (though in hindsight conditions would have allowed a 10km paddle across Te Waewae Bay instead).
The trip started with a brutally early wake-up and departure from Dunedin. I took just about the last available space in the car park and finally set out for my hike at 10:15a, sandflies thankfully only of minor annoyance. I could tell it would be a long day, but mentally I did not think I'd be hiking for nearly 12 hours straight without more than a few minutes break. The South Coast Track made pretty good travel overall though lower tide would have given me more sandy beach to walk on rather than the unstable sloping cobbles. A couple swingbridges found me at my crucial decision point near Waikoko Stream at noon. Time was not in my favor today. I could take the direct 16km Teal Bay Route, which would ensure I made it to the hut, or I could go with my initial plan of accessing via the Hump Ridge Track and 5km of trackless alpine, which meant another 25km to the hut. I was paralyzed to decide for a few minutes before stubbornness won out and I proceeded with my initial more lofty plan. Life is short and this would probably be my one chance to check out the amazing landscape on the southern half of Hump Ridge. I knew I would now have to push myself and I alternated fast walking with jogging despite my oversized pack.
Just past the tall swingbridge over Pipi Tuaraki Stream I arrived at the base of the Hump Ridge turnoff at 12:45p. The sign said something like 6 hours to Okaka Hut where I would leave the trail. Yikes! I was hoping the maintained track would only take a few hours and more would likely mean hiking in the dark or desperately bivvying under a rock. There was also a deliberately threatening note stating that bookings and payment are essential for the track. I felt like I had a pretty good handle on the politics and that they did not own exclusive access, just their huts. Here are a few moment of indecision struck until I started running up the chicken-wired boardwalks. Teal Bay or bust!
The track was in great shape overall and I occasionally monitored progress by checking my phone GPS. I noticed that the swingbridges and occasionally the boardwalk had Department of Conservation inventory tags, which allayed my fears that I would be accosted for hiking the track. I passed the first group of walkers at a rest stop who looked curiously at my large pack and fierce pace. As I approached the steeper section of the track I began to pass many groups of two or three in rapid succession.
Though there were virtually no views, the bush did nicely transition from lowland rainforest into mossy cloud forest to dracophyllum alpine vegetation. I topped out on the ridge trail junction at 3:30p (2hrs 45min up), which provided a moment's relief. I walked boardwalk out of the bush and onto the alpine tussock to find a fierce wind. I struggled to walk the one meter wide boardwalk without getting blown off the side. I was far from "out of the woods" yet; I still had a considerable distance to walk and still did not know whether the trackless alpine section would be a constant ankle-twisting traverse of lumpy tussock or easier travel. I walked past the hut and on up to the end of the boardwalk that weaves through the picturesque garden of sandstone tors (pillars) and delicate little lakes. The experience was somewhat hampered by the fact that half of the water seemed to be whipped up into my face and I could barely hold a camera steady in the force of the wind. At least the weather was clear and I could see the graceful curve of Te Waewae Bay to the east and dark, ominous Fiordland to the west. It was 4p when I left the boardwalk. I unfortunately could not linger to enjoy to rocks much less stop any longer than needed to cram a granola bar in my face.
I set off north across the ridge finding the vegetation to be relatively forgiving to travel; squishy water-saturated moss and shallow pools predominated with very little scrub or tussock to navigate. The wind was anything but forgiving; the intermittent gale-force gusts were a constant struggle for me to remain bipedal. The scenery really was fantastic and I was glad to see there were picturesque textured rock sculptures and tarns extending over 1.5km from the touristy boardwalk. I stopped long enough to drink some freshwater in a outcrop pothole and then carried on at my frantic pace. Light beams shown through dark clouds to the west. Several times squalls of rain blasted me to up the epic nature of the trip but fortunately then frequently backed off. I would have been freezing if not for my flat-out pace. I kept an eye out for suitable locations to bivvy on the lee side of rock outcroppings in case things got desperate.
Reaching the poled route at the north end of the ridge provided minor relief though the 150m climb up The Hump and the continuing ridge on top quelled enthusiasm. The occasional views of Lake Hauroko were visually pleasing other than their distant appearance. The final slopes of Hump Ridge had the most extensive dracophyllum patch I had ever seen. It was 7:30p when I finally reach the bush edge. I was exhausted with sore feet but still had 850m to drop on a seldom-used route on unknown condition. I settled into a slower pace down the steep trail, thankfully actually recently cut and well marked. I was mostly in a stupor at this point, one foot in front of the other with a comfortable hut to drive me onward. I reached Lake Hauroko at 9:20p, but as a final insult found the traversing trail to Teal Bay, now only 1km distant, to be a rough drag for tired feet. At nearly 10p I finally arrived at Teal Bay Hut. Boots off, I greeted the coughing fit German women already in her sleeping bag and cooked dinner as quietly as I could. The recent fieldwork had some big days but I cannot remember the last time I had one this intense. I was glad that I overcame trepidation, exhaustion, and weather to meet my goal. I seem to have a different definition of vacation as many others.
I slept soundly in the happily sandfly-proof Teal Bay Hut. The German girl got an early start, which enabled me to gear up in the hut and walk the mere 50m to the shore. Hauroko was thankfully wonderfully calm. I leisurely boated the 1.5km to the outlet of the lake and the start of the Wairaurahiri River. The current started slowly the first bend or two and then at the three-wire bridge over the river it gained incredible power as whitewater wave trains bounced out of view down the next bend.
I was caught a little off guard by the wall to wall conveyor lacking any eddies and near-continuous nature of the rapids. The river description I had was rather vague and promised 31km of continuous Class II+ whitewater with no eddies to stop or collect yourself. Adrenaline kicked in as I did my best to anticipate downstream hazards and react to stick to the best course. This run is the very definition of II+ to me; I have never been on a river of that grade that felt so engaging and demanding your constant attention. After the first couple kilometers I began to get a feel for the river and was able to relax slightly. It was an exceptionally beautiful river with overhanging trees the entire way. I found the first third of the river to be the most relentless and challenging; the middle third to have more eddies and breaks between the wave trains, and the last third to ease up yet again. This gradual progression was welcome- it probably would have been very mentally draining to have the stoke factor I started with persist for the entire run. Even with a stop at the last third to check out the remote hunter's hut I still managed to go 31km in less than 3 hours! What a contrast to the previous day!
A rare eddy to catch my breathe and snap a photo!
A swingbridge over the river signaled my take-out at the grassy flats of the Wairaurahiri Hut, which I happily had to myself. I set everything out to dry and had a leisurely lunch in sandfly-free comfort. I was thrilled to have this spot to clean and dry gear rather than have to pack it up wet and dirty.
Lunch rejuvenated me. Feeling good about making some more progress I shouldered my pack and set off for the Port Craig Schoolhouse Hut. The DOC sign said 4 hours which I found surprising for 15km of relatively flat track. I found it even more surprising that this was a staunch estimate and pretty close to what it took me to travel the old logging tramway with Steward Island-style mud pits. The historic tramway was decidedly awkward to walk on, rotting wood planks were spaced perhaps ideally to run tracks but not designed with a typical human walking gait in mind. Between the planks the mud often plunged to boot depth, forcing you into this unusual stride that seemed to prolong time. I think I saw and heard more kakas than I ever have before. The four historic wooden viaducts helped break up the monotony and were impressive feats spanning vertical-walled gorges. In their rickety state they barely seemed suitable for walking, let alone hosting multi-ton machinery.
I arrived at Port Craig at 6:45p. I dropped my pack in the empty hut and then set out for a walk around Port Craig, which used to be a logging company town in the early 1900s. I was quite impressed with the interpretative material and pathways that I felt really gave me a window into what it would have been like to live and work in this remote and inhospitable environment. I had a nice quiet dinner in the !triple decker! bunk hut and enjoyed more historic accounts of the township. A friendly young couple including "Tara the shit geologist" escaped the guided walker lodge and were good to chat with for over an hour until they retreated to their plush confines.
I woke up early and set out pre-dawn, determined to get back to the car before the raging southerly arrived. The hike was unmemorable but at least uncrowded with good bird song. I walked and scrambled along about 1.5km of the coast instead of sticking the the track which involved some minor rock climbing and squeezing through a boulder cave to preserve dry feet. In hindsight the seas were remarkably calm for being pre-southerly and I wish I had opted to packraft across the bay instead. I returned to the car well before noon, and drove north to Dunedin under darkening skies.
All in all it was a great trip. The Wairaurahiri River was fantastic, Hump Ridge beautiful, and the Port Craig history very interesting. I was glad I opted for a 2.5 day rough-and-tumble version.
