Rachel Grindlay

continued from Days 1-3

Day 4: Adelaide Tarn Hut to Anatoki Peak tarns

The crux day had arrived. It dawned clear and I tried to prod Tom into action at 5am (first light). He was unimpressed and refused to move until 5:30am. We were away by 7:25am in clear but breezy (cold) conditions.

On the map we had approximately 2 kilometres to cover for the day. Time estimates from JC were between 5 to 9 hours. The second half of the route had the potential to be the slowest per km rate we’d ever covered.

Almost immediately we were over thinking the route – not far below the saddle there is a steep descent down a chute – a bit of faffing about before realising it was easy (or would have been without a pack) and more importantly the way to go.

The first section is relatively straight-forward, sidling below Mt Douglas and then following forested sections along the main ridge towards the Dragons Teeth.

Then it was a matter of staying on course as we meandered up and down and around various open sections, bushy sections, exposed sections. The cool day quickly warmed up with not a cloud to be seen. As we were traversing the eastern side of the range we were getting the full sun – amazing conditions but almost too nice.

As we started descending along side a cliff line we came to what seemed to be a relatively recent slip*. I was over the shale slip before Tom got there – it was fairly sketchy. Rather than him come across if it wasn’t the right way and both of us have to reverse it I kept going to see if it seemed right. It was well trodden under foot but no cairns or markers.

It kept going a fair way so Tom came across, and we kept heading down. As I started climbing down a vegetated bank (well-trodden but probably not likely to last that long due to the erosion) Tom had a look at the GPS which had an OpenStreetMaps route loaded on it. It suggested we were off the route by 30-odd metres. So he headed back up. Just below the slip there was a ribbon on a tree which we’d missed. So he came back and we went back up with our packs. Climbing up at the ribbon I then found a tin lid on a tree on the ledge we were now on.

So in theory back on track. But that ledge got skinnier and skinnier and I wasn’t overly game to edge out and see what happened. But there didn’t seem to be any other options. In the end I climbed up a vertical bank of vegetation (not a regularly-used option!) and got onto the spur. Tom did a similar but slightly less scratchy route. According to the GPS we were in the vicinity of the route.

From the spur we had a good view of what was coming up. Consulting JC’s notes we couldn’t really make that much sense of what we could see in front of us based on his description. Nevertheless we followed them and found ourselves back with some markers going into the bush.

The route then traversed some narrow ledges, with quite a few climb-ups using trees as we made our way around the base of one of the long buttresses. The route was somewhat airy – there was just a line of vegetation between you and a significant drop.

Eventually we popped out onto an open snow grass section. At which point Tom realised that we had not come anywhere near as far as we thought we had – which is why the notes hadn’t matched what we could see. We were now where we had thought we were an hour (or more?) earlier. The notes made a bit more sense now!

We had continued to be baked as we traversed the east-facing slopes and having had a fair bit of sun over the previous 3 days we agreed lunch needed to happen in the forest. This was a shame as there were some really great spots to stop, but none of them had any shade.

We found a reasonable spot in the forest for lunch before arriving at JC’s “open shale area”. It was fairly evident where to turn off, so maybe several years of his notes being available have helped with the route finding in this section. That said soon after as we exited from a rocky gully the pad appeared to vanish. There was clearly an orange tag indicating to go into the bush but then not much evidence on the ground. After a bunch of pushing through vegetation (and undoubtedly confusing things for future parties) Tom found some orange markers. Thank goodness – this route is fairly committing and having come this far the thought of reversing it to go the low route was almost unthinkable.

After some easy bush travel we hit the final “very steep climb”. This was around 150-200m of many 2-3m climbs, normally needing to haul on at least one tree if not two. Without the vegetation the route would be perilous – fortunately the vegetation, for the moment, is solid.

There was a palpable sense of relief when we finally topped out. I think Tom’s first words were “Well, that was terrifying”. My response was “I have no desire to do that route ever again”.

We tried to put our finger on why we felt like we’d underestimated the route. It was within our capabilities but we hadn’t enjoyed significant sections of it. It was way more airy, and the climbing was pretty sustained in sections. None of the moves by themselves were overly difficult – we did all the moves with our (still quite heavy) packs on. But the need to haul on vegetation over and over again with very large drops below you was mentally taxing. The warmth/time in sun also didn’t help general fatigue.

We’d had a big drink before we’d left camp in the morning, and then sculled another litre at one of the streams we’d crossed, in addition to carrying 2 litres of water each. Tom ran out of water just after we topped out, and I finished mine just as we got to one of the tarns below Anatoki Peak. Some comments I’d seen made me wonder if there was more water than usual when we did it – we crossed several running streams and there were lots of tarns below Anatoki Peak – so finding water wasn’t an issue for us – but I don’t know if some of those dry up at times?

If you’re going to attempt this route, every party member needs to be a confident scrambler with pack on, and fine with exposure. Pack-hauling would be quite sketchy/difficult. You do not want to get part way through the route and find you need to turn around.

One of the groups we met later in the trip told us of a solo walker who was behind them in this section. A helicopter appeared and went straight to a spot on the route so they assumed the walker had called for help/set off a PLB. Others we met later on had heard that the walker had got stuck with no way to go forward but couldn’t reverse.

JC said the tarns (with great campsite) were at the top of the K on the word “peak” on the map. Once we had a drink at one of the low tarns I didn’t have any desire to spend any longer than necessary finding a campsite. So I asked Tom where this “K” spot was in relation to where we were. At that point Tom realised he didn’t have the GPS on a NZ Datum, and so despite having map and GPS, it required him digging into his pack and fiddling with his phone for a while to come up with an answer. Both of our feet were suffering by then as our socks and boots hadn’t dried out from the day before. Oh to get to camp and get them off!

We had made it in around 9 hours (including 2 morning teas, lunch, and a water sculling stop and of course much photo taking). We didn’t feel like we’d wasted much time route-finding other then just below the shale slip. Travelling with heavy packs definitely slows you down – hats off to JC’s group who did in 6.5 hours presumably with similar-sized packs.

We didn’t discover the “great campsite”. I climbed a ways further up, and there were so many tarns, but I couldn’t see anything obvious from a camping perspective. Maybe our expectations were too high.

We continued to be baked for a few hours as with the way the rock slopes there wasn’t really any shade – and the sun doesn’t set until 9pm! Ah some relief when the sun went below Anatoki Peak!

I rejected Tom’s tent site selection, and convinced him to set up near a photogenic tarn. Being wedged between two rocks made pitching the guy lines a bit tricky. It didn’t seem to matter too much at the time as there wasn’t much wind…

However the wind swung around and picked up by the time we went to bed. So it was blowing directly into the big end of the tent. We had a somewhat disturbed night as the front pegs got completely blown out a couple of times. Fortunately we managed to locate the pegs each time! When it happened again at 5am I suggested we just call it quits and pack up.

Day 5: Anatoki Peak tarns to Lonely Lake Hut

We picked up the cairns near our campsite and easily followed them along the eastern slopes (more baking in the sun to come!). JC made mention of a difficult bit, though easier than anything we’d done the previous day. By comparison the sidle on a narrow ledge was very straight-forward!

I got us slightly off-track thinking I’d seen a cairn well above us when in fact it was a goat standing in a saddle. But besides that the only spot where we had any issues with the route was the second slightly sketchy section for the day. This was climbing up the slopes of 1564 and needing to traverse around to the saddle below the twin peaks.

I had seen a cairn from a distance but then once we got in below the bluffs I couldn’t see it and there were multiple pads on the ground. The more obvious route along a narrow ledge was difficult to get on to. Eventually we came back to it having exhausted other options and I realised there was an easy(-ish) place further along to get on, and from there it was no worse than, say the ledge traverse in Myall Creek in Morton NP. There was a second section of narrow traversing around the corner which then took us to the cairn I’d seen some time ago climbing up.

JC had suggested the twin summits worth climbing were at 1564. After morning tea we ascended the twin summits – one each!

We continued sidling and eventually we were in the saddle below the Drunken Sailors. I guess at that point we could say the High Route was complete, as that is where you would re-meet the route if you did the low version.

I was (as always) keen to push on to the hut – as it felt like it should be just around the corner. Tom wanted to do yet more foot surgery. But once I realised the hut was a lot further away and I found some shade (a rare commodity) we stopped for lunch. It probably illustrated how little shade the previous 4.5 days had offered that we were so happy to be able to enjoy lunch without worrying about getting burnt. The spot was absolute bliss, next to a delightful running creek.

Eventually we tore ourselves away from the shade and continued down towards Lonely Lake Hut. It took a long time for us to get a view of the lake, but I loved following the creek down beside numerous cascades. The hut itself is set well away from the lake on the bush edge. It is a great spot with views, a picnic table, and to our immense relief a flat, sheltered tent spot. There are other camping options nearer the lake but after our windy night we were just happy to have somewhere we would get a peaceful night’s sleep!

There were already 3 people at the hut when we arrived – having walked in from Fenella Hut that morning. They highly recommended a swim so we didn’t waste much time heading down to the lake. I was excited to find a nice pool below the outlet.

We quizzed the others on the weather forecast and they suggested it was supposed to be reasonable until at least the 3rd or 4th. This was excellent news as it meant we could spend 2 nights at Lonely Lake. We were both ready for a rest day.

As we were all settling into dinner another 2 people arrived. George and Holly put our efforts to absolute shame. They had left Adelaide Tarn around 9am, and come the whole way, including climbing one of the Teeth, and got in at 6pm. Though they were carrying packs that looked far more like day packs!

They said there was another group of 4 also on their way – this group arrived some time later looking much more like what we would’ve done if we’d tried to combine the two days. They headed down to the lake to camp so we didn’t chat much to them. But between the original 3 and George and Holly we had a very convivial evening out at the picnic table, even though the mist had turned quite wet. The damp was what eventually sent us to bed.

Day 6: Lonely Lake Hut (rest day)

Knowing we didn’t need to go anywhere was amazing. So amazing that we slept in till almost 9:30am – that’s 12 hours in bed. The mist/mizzle from the night before had just got denser overnight. There was little to be seen and the other groups left it late to depart in the hope that the cloud would lift. As it was they all set off in less than stellar conditions, and by 10am we had the hut to ourselves which meant a nice dry (very late) breakfast. We had intended to climb the Drunken Sailors but as we remained in the cloud for almost the entire day I wasn’t unhappy that there didn’t seem to be much point!

Between reading the hut log books going all the way back to 1973, doing a quiz, screwing up a sudoku and almost finishing a cryptic crossword, the day passed rather quickly. A group of 4 did arrive later in the afternoon having come through the low route due to the drizzly conditions – they camped down by the lake so we had the hut area to ourselves for New Years Eve. Not that we made it up very late!

*confirmed to be <4 years old by someone we met later in the trip. He had done the route 4 years earlier and it didn’t exist then.

The trip continues here.

We’d been thinking about the Douglas Range Traverse for a few years. We decided this was the year, and having a read a bit about the “high route” we thought it was definitely up our alley. After all, we love scrambling routes, particularly if it means you can bypass a 700m ascent/descent (the alternative if you go the “low route”).

John Chapman, well-known Australian bushwalking guidebook author, had published some notes for the high route. Having used JC’s notes for the Western Arthurs and Frenchmans Cap in the last couple of years we were familiar with his style, and had some gauge on how our walking times correlated to his (including breaks we were generally about the upper end of his estimates). We took on his advice to allow extra days to give us the best opportunity of good weather for the crux days.

Having booked everything in September we were then beholden to the weather. I tried to avoid looking at it in the weeks leading up – particularly given how inaccurate we’d found the forecasts in the preceding two weeks. I allowed myself some cautious optimism when it seems a slow-moving high was due to arrive on Christmas day. All I could say to people was “the forecast was about as good we we could have hoped for”… knowing all the time that once we started we wouldn’t have any way of getting any updates (other than from other walkers).

Day 1: Trailhead (Bainham) to Beatham’s Clearing

So laden with 9-days of food, Tom’s fancy camera, and 3 litres of water each (! this is NZ!) we were dropped off at 10:30am the trailhead for Boulder Lake. Needless to say our packs were on the heavy side. And it was forecast to be a hot day.

The most challenging route-finding of the day was the first 50m, but soon we were on track. Plodding would probably be the best description of our movement for the day. The trail wound its way through 7-foot high manuka for much of the morning. This is not high enough to give any shade, but high enough to keep out any breeze (not that there was much). It felt much like a sauna.

The route to Boulder Lake used to start from a different spot which made the walk into Boulder Lake shorter/easier. We intended to take JC’s recommendation to split the day into two – our drop-off driver suggested we’d have enough time to push on to Boulder Lake, given there’s so much daylight. We discussed the situations where that might happen – “if there’s no water at Beatham’s Clearing”, “if we’re both feeling amazing at Beathem’s Clearing”, “if there’s no room at Beatham’s Clearing”. All fairly unlikely.

The interesting parts of the day were the limestone karst country – crossing numerous deep slits in the ground. And I saw two pigs, and heard/smelt plenty of goats.

As we approached Beatham’s Clearing Tom declared there was no way he was going any further. I agreed. Perhaps a sign of how fatigued we were, we got to the “Water” sign – and rather than even walk 5m down the side-track to see if that was where the camping was, we decided to keep walking. We probably only went 5 minutes, but it felt like a lot longer before it became apparent there was no camping coming up. I felt like a complete idiot when I got back to the “water” sign to find that looking from the other direction on the track you could pretty much see the clearing. Anyway, we were there, no one else was. There were some water sumps. We didn’t have to go any further.

There was a well-trod path beyond the sumps, that I was doubtful would yield any better water, but we followed it anyway. Down, down, down we went, we did find some flowing water. (After all looking for water is probably a skill set we utilise a lot more than the average NZ tramper). Somehow we managed to siphon 4 litres out of a very small pool that the water was trickling into. Didn’t realise Tom had that trick up his sleeve. So armed with drinking water for the next day we used the sump water for cooking (not that I think it would have been problematic for drinking). We were both feeling pretty average and dinner had to be forced down – if only to reduce the weight on our packs!

Day 2: Beatham’s Clearing to Boulder Lake Hut

I slept like a log unsurprisingly. Tom was also feeling a bit better so it was back to it early to try and beat the worst of the heat. The forest was taller in this section so we weren’t directly in the sun like the previous day.

It was another beautiful day and the views from Cow Saddle were outstanding.

Tom had read a few things which suggested the sidle below Brown Cow was a bit dodgy. JC barely mentions it, so I wasn’t expecting anything much. Admittedly we had perfect conditions but it was nothing of concern to us. Like most things it could be a bit more daunting in torrential rain and wind.

After the long, tedious descent to Boulder Lake we decided we should do the side trip to the lake outlet. I stumbled into someone’s campsite as I turned off the track. My guess was he had got in very late the night before having mis-estimated against the DOC times – given he was only just packing up at 11:30am!

The side-trip was worthwhile. The old dam wall was quaint, and the waterfall below it was impressive (if hard to get a view of). We had a wash in the stream there, not realising there was an amazing waterfall and pool behind Boulder Lake Hut, before heading back to our packs and having lunch. I also scored a walking pole, which had been left sitting on the edge of the lake well away from the main track.

Arriving at Boulder Lake Hut at 2:30pm there was a couple either just arriving or just leaving – turned out to be leaving. They had also mis-estimated the effort to get in, and so were splitting it up on the way out.

As if on cue the rain started just as we arrived (and they left). We thought we might have the hut to ourselves, but a group of 3 local women arrived later so we enjoyed the evening with them – even if our internal thermostats were very different. They decided to light the fire, after we’d had the windows open all afternoon to try and cool the hut down!

It continued to rain on and off for the rest of the evening, at times quite hard. We all went to bed quite early and I’m not sure if I was the only one still awake when a solo walker arrived just on full dark. She must have been very relieved to get to the hut after what I’m guessing was a very long day.

Day 3: Boulder Lake Hut to Adelaide Tarn Hut

We were up very early, and decamped to the verandah to try and avoid disturbing the other 4. We knew it was going to be a wet morning as our first task for the day was making our way up a tussock filled valley. My newly acquired walking pole was invaluable here allowing me to prod for all the holes that exist between tussock.

Once we started up the ridge out of the valley a foot pad became clear and we slogged our way up before, what became a regular occurrence, of “first” morning tea. Our feet were saturated so we gave them the chance to dry out even if they had to go back into wet shoes and socks afterwards.

We thoroughly enjoyed the next section of ridge, a bit scrambly, amazing views and once again great weather. The narrow ridge definitely reminded me of the Western Arthurs. Second morning tea was taken after the narrowest section of ridge where we could appreciate the views looking back over what we’d traversed.

The next goal was the Eye of the Needle – the pass below the Needle that leads to Adelaide Tarn. Thinking we could see it from a long way out, we were pleasantly surprised to find what we’d thought we were aiming for was much further away than where we were actually going! Many things I’d read in advance had suggested getting into the Eye was tricky. Maybe the footpad used to be more indistinct, but we didn’t have any issues (once we’d worked out where we were!). We got over Needle Pass and got the views of Adelaide Tarn with the Dragons Teeth looming behind just before the cloud descended.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty gloomy.

Adelaide Tarn Hut is a tiny 4-bed tin hut. The bunks are old-style with metal mesh for the mattresses to go on – and if you’re more than about 5ft 5 you’re going to struggle to fit on them lengthways. Having seen the interior of the hut we didn’t take long to decide we’d camp – which was to Brenda’s benefit when she arrived a few hours later. She ended up with what looked a very comfortable set up (double-mattresses and being of a suitable height).

I didn’t particularly enjoy hanging out at Adelaide Tarn. The hut is perched on the edge of the tarn, with the toilet above it. The area immediately around the hut and toilet is very muddy which makes it difficult to go exploring once you’ve taken your sodden shoes and socks off. Apparently there were nice campsites near the outlet but we didn’t get over there.

If it had been sunny I could see there were some nice swimming options (I did have a brief dip below one of the waterfalls). So, all in all, I was very glad that the weather was such that we weren’t needing to sit out one of our extra days there!

 

Continue to read about the next 3 days…

Yet again the weather forecast leading in had been unfavourable, but by the time the day arrived things were looking good. Our bus/train/bus combo got us to Paraparaumu Beach in time for a coffee before we sailed to Kapiti Island. (Only because we chased the bus across the Coastlands car park until we worked out where the bus stop was!).

For those that don’t know Kapiti Island is a predator-free nature reserve and as a result has a large population of bird life.

I don’t think the water could have been flatter for our trip across and so we arrived ahead of schedule. We got an interesting talk from the ranger and then we were free to explore until our boat left that afternoon.

Tom & I decided to walk up the Trig Track (ascent-only use), only I got about a third of the way up and realised I’d left my camera in the toilet so I got some extra ascent/descent for my day. And Tom got some slow track walking time to try and get bird photos.

Tūteremoana, the highest point on Kapiti Island, is 521m, so it was another big hill for the trip. We enjoyed the views from the elevated platform at the top before nabbing some shade for lunch.

The Weka was clearly used to people lunching and was out and about hoping for anything he could find. A young lad at the summit said he “wished that the weka would come that close to me” as the Weka was making a nuisance of itself under my feet. I assured him it probably would as soon as he started eating lunch. That was the only bird I bothered photographing – you’ll have to wait for Tom’s photos for all the good bird shots.

Our trip back a bit choppier and we got to watch some tractor rescues at the beach on our return. The rising tide playing havoc with a smaller tractor that was too far out. There’s no jetty and so all launches seem to be done with the aid of tractors.

We stayed the night in Paraparaumu Beach. With a deteriorating weather forecast we got away early the next day to do the Escarpment Track (but not before the best coffee I had in NZ – shout out to The Common Room). We had a much more successful bus/train connection getting to Paekākāriki and it wasn’t long before we walking.

Ooooh we were also doing part of the Te Araroa. Apparently some people get a kick out of that!? Frankly if I was doing the Te Araroa I think this section would just annoy me as it has so many stairs and you’re walking alongside a train line…

The views are pretty good – but they are much the same for the whole walk. And the whole thing is very exposed so we were glad to have got two-thirds of the way along (and past some of the more dodgy sections) when the rain/wind came in.

We encountered a number of groups coming from the other direction looking like drowned rats in a variety of jackets – not many of them what I would consider raincoats.

The kilometre at either end of track which takes you to/from the stations is particularly uninspiring, but on a nice day you would forgive that for the rest of the outing. While the highpoint was only 220m, I think we went up and down enough to say we got another pretty good hill workout.

A great mini-break on the Kapiti Coast.

We had hoped to the do the Tararua Southern Crossing but with an uncertain weather forecast and too many logistics we ended up going with a logistically-easier option in the Remutakas. We carried our overnight packs for both days, even though for the first day we didn’t need to. Good thing we did though as our legs were definitely telling us about the lack of pack walking in the last few months.

It was a drizzly day when we got dropped off. The forecast said it was going to clear so we opted to start with the Orongorongo walking track with the hope that by the time we got up on the ridge later in the afternoon we’d get some views.

After fun times playing with the wind-up bird calls near the start we soon got underway. I could soon see why this is “one of New Zealand’s most popular walks”. The forest was delightful and largely kept out the rain. A most enjoyable morning of walking before morning tea at the confluence of Turere Stream and the Orongorongo River.

The weather didn’t seem to be going anywhere as we set off up Cattle Ridge Track.

Another stiff ascent (this time ~400m with packs) rewarded us with absolutely no views. And the track got more overgrown as we went, so by the time we started descending Butchers Track our shoes were sodden.

The campsite was not designed for walkers in mind – another few hundred metres down the road before we found the entrance. We found a nice spot in the small tent area that I’d reserved – though when we were arrived we were the sole occupants of the whole place so we really had our pick of anywhere.

We were glad to find a large covered area (well large for 2 people) where we could dry out. The rain largely let up and we got a little bit of sun.

We were beginning to think we’d be the only ones for the night when around 7pm various parties began arriving. We watched on fascinated as a family pulled up in their new-looking ute and proceeded to pull out what appeared to be brand new camping gear. And then blow up their tent – no poles required it seems? Who needs television.

Our second day involved walking out to Wainuiomata where we could get public transport. Five Mile Creek Track also had wind-up bird noises so that delayed us getting going. Five Mile Creek Track was an enjoyable ascent to where it met the Clay Ridge Track. From there things got a bit steeper – but that was what we were there for – getting hills in our legs. Eventually we walked over the summit of Mt McKerrow (706m) – though there is just a knee-high metal pipe to mark the spot. We were fortunate that the cloud lifted enough for us to get views on the occasional spots where the forest opened.

Unfortunately once we started descending off Mt McKerrow the track deteriorated into bog. Every time I thought we might be through the worst of it we hit another patch. I’m not sure which surface I dislike walking on more – sand or mud – either way they are very close to the bottom of my least favoured.

Eventually the mud reduced and we made good time in the bottom section fortuitously popping out at Hine Road 5 minutes before a bus was due.

Nearing the longest day of the year and being a fair way south meant we had a lot of daylight to play with. So arrival at our accommodation at 5pm (somewhat delayed) was the perfect time to go for a 3 hour walk! (well… 1.5 – 3 hrs depending on who you believe) After all the dinner reservation wasn’t until 8:30pm.

We hadn’t been able to get as much walking (particularly hills) into our legs as we would have liked in preparation for this trip. And didn’t the Queenstown Hill Track let us know. The footpath out of the town centre and up to the official part of the walk was probably the steepest bit. Queenstown lies at 310m above sea level, and the Queenstown Hill Summit at 907m. A tidy 600m climb before dinner if you don’t mind.

Drizzle came and went as we powered up and in the end we got some lovely views over The Remarkables.

The next day we had hoped to do some climbing in the Remarkables but with a dodgy weather forecast we concluded an early-ish walk up Ben Lomond was a safer option. Early turned out to be not so early as the first gondola wasn’t until 9am. We decided with over 1,000m ascent even with the gondola skipping 400m we were hardly making it into an easy day.

Despite the weather forecast the morning was absolutely stellar. This track doesn’t give you a let up – you are almost always ascending, until you’re almost always descending. Good thing there’s so many views to stop and look at!

With the weather forecast to close in and deteriorate from mid-afternoon we thought we might be some of the last to summit. For whatever reason there were not many people arriving on the summit after we did and we had it largely to ourselves for lunch. I was subsequently surprised to start encountering plenty still trudging up as we got about a third of the way down. The weather never really got foul so they would have been ok, and this was the start of our distrust of the weather forecasts for the trip…

On our third day in Queenstown we cycled from Arrowtown to Gibbston (all we had time for before our flight). I don’t have any photos of that though as I left my camera with our luggage. Oops.

I wasn’t feeling it when the alarm went off. I still wasn’t feeling it when we started walking (though I was feeling severe DOMS in my hamstrings from two days earlier). Not helped by my walking pace for some reason being considerably slower than Tom & Jon so I kept getting left behind. And I can’t even blame my leg length! However, having endured the rough drive in* which I had no desire to ever repeat I figured I better make the most of the opportunity to explore this part of the world.

*some (most?) wouldn’t consider it that rough. But I dislike rough dirt roads. Particularly ones which I think we could get stuck on. I was glad to be in the back seat and stare out the window and pretend I didn’t know what the state of the road was.

Once we got off the old fire trail and into the off-track walking I had no problem keeping up with Jon and Tom. We started getting some cliff edges and the top of the rocky-ridge was an excellent spot for morning tea. Though as it turned out just below where we stopped would have been an even better spot. Apparently we were making good time as our morning tea spot had been Jon’s lunch spot on a previous trip.

All too soon the rocky scrambling came to an end and we were plunged into some pernicious mountain holly. I’m not sure if mountain holly is just what Tom & I call it – I tried googling it when I got home and found very little in the Australian context. Anyway, Tom assures me the scientific name is Podolobium ilicifolium – the inspiration for this blog post title. This was some of the largest stands of it that I’d seen in a long time. Fortunately it didn’t seem to co-exist with the Hardenbergia – that would be a combination from hell. The holly while prickly wasn’t tooooo bad to push through. After we left the thickets of holly we then had swathes of Hardenbergia – pretty but pretty annoying to get through.

By the time we got down to Bowens Creek I was hot! The day really felt like summer was on the way. I had a very quick swim – the water was bracing. But what a great spot for it.

After lunch we headed up a side creek which was surprisingly (to me at least – who hadn’t looked at any maps) vertical. We had some fun scrambling before exiting up another side creek.

Fortunately Jon found us a way out at the top of the creek – I had gone traversing looking for a break in the cliffs – which were always promising but didn’t deliver. A couple of exposed moves got us ‘out’.

Well, they got us through the cliff line. We still had a way to go to get onto the top of the ridge. Here we encountered more mountain holly, which then gave way to more Hardenbergia. Some way up I mentally ran out of steam and relinquished the lead to Tom. It was that sort of vegetation where you don’t even know where to go because everywhere is just a tangle of Hardenbergia and you have to fight for every metre.

It was only once we got to the saddle which had a gentle breeze I also realised how stifling it had been on the ascent up the slope. Fortunately the narrow ridge meant the vegetation thinned out and the next section was far more enjoyable.

I had been somewhat concerned we were going to get hit by a storm. Well, let’s be honest, I was more worried that the road out was going to get hit by a storm – and given how much I’d not enjoyed the drive in, a wet road going out was going to be even worse. But we didn’t get any rain. Back at the car Jon commented on a couple of drops of rain on the windscreen but that was it…. until we got to the gate. When Tom got out to open it we could see streams of water flowing everywhere. It seemed a cell had dumped there but missed us only a couple of kilometres away. The next 50m of road was the dodgiest – and not helped by having just been saturated. Jon’s car managed to get us up the slight slope on the second attempt and from there I could relax as we were back on the ‘good’ road. I was very grateful that we had taken Jon’s car and not ours.

We finished off the day with excellent Thai in Richmond. Today was a reminder of how rewarding day trips can be – though a little part of me felt ripped-off that we couldn’t hang about on the creek and enjoy it for a bit longer. I want to say another time… but I really don’t want to drive that road again.

Another plan made at 9:45pm the night before – which was a bit unfortunate as this would have been a good walk to invite some other people along on.

My research indicated a number of people on the interwebs had trouble finding the start of this walk and/or following the route once on the ground. There are several minutes of my life I will never get back. Much like a car crash you can’t look away from I started reading a blog which detailed 3 attempts (the final one being successful) on Mt Jellore – along with blow by blow conversations held during the drive there and while walking. I hope my blog readers don’t find my writing so tedious.

We had no issues deciding where the walk starts (though it is not sign-posted) and then finding our way through the mess of fire trails which punctuate the start of the walk. To be fair, it’s probably a lot easier now that the bush has come back after the fires. Tom noticed when we arrived that openstreetmaps had a loop option drawn, so we decided we’d try and do that rather than the usual out and back.

The surrounds were lovely and the sun was out. Early on we came upon a look out which was almost excellent. Other than Mt Jellore being directly behind the trees!

I had read about the creek crossing having ropes on both sides. We didn’t use them but I can see why you might want them, particularly in wetter conditions. The way the track has formed in this section is not ideal – straight up and down on each side. A re-routing which goes across the slope would alleviate erosion and remove the need for ropes.

Now that NPWS has taken over management of the area (rebranded as the Jellore Flora Reserve instead of Jellore State Forest) it would be nice if this walk became official – perhaps in the lead up to that the track could be re-routed. Of course, I doubt this is anywhere near the top of the priority list!

It was impressive how many sizeable pieces of sandstone had been put across the old 4WD tracks leading off Soapy Flat Road, so there’s definite evidence of attention being paid to the area.

Another place which has had considerable attention is the junction of the track with the private property fire trail. In an obvious attempt to funnel walkers around the private property a sizeable ‘entrance way’ has been built – along with a sign to “Soapy Flat Road”.

Tom wanted to check out where the loop route went off before we climbed Mt Jellore. While we were looking for any evidence of the route I found a cairn. So we thought that might be the start. Until I looked more closely and found a geocache – not that we could get the lid off.

I was somewhat surprised to find the side of Mt Jellore was quite cliffy – I had expected it to be completely rounded. Fortunately the track just works it’s way up the slopes, and other than early on in the climb, does a decent job of switch-backing through to the top.

Mt Jellore was the first trig station in NSW – established in 1828. Mt Jellore was chosen because it’s such a distinctive peak. Having seen it from so many places it was great to finally get on top.

We headed out past the trig to the rocky outcrops for lunch. We had a couple of wedgetailed eagles do a close fly-by – almost as impressive as the ones we saw at Mt Kaputar. Despite being a lovely sunny day the wind was brisk and there wasn’t much desire to linger once we’d finished eating.

After descending and having found no evidence of this ‘footway’ that was on openstreetmaps we decided we’d just go off-track for our return journey. There were a myriad of animal tracks so the going was relatively easy.

We were a bit surprised at the terrain we ended up crossing. After scaring off a couple of pigs we then found ourselves in a thorn thicket which we probably could have avoided with the benefit of hindsight.

Similarly we picked up an old fire trail on the ridge that we probably could have picked up earlier. Between old fire trails, animal tracks and relatively open bush we made reasonable progress to return to the main track after the thicket hell.

Back at the cars after 5 hours this was an enjoyable walk which got us back to Mittagong in time for afternoon tea before all the cafes shut!

Another week, another walk. This one had been overshadowed in the lead up with a not-so-bad that it should be cancelled, but not-so-good that it should definitely go ahead, weather forecast. In the end Tom decided it would be more work to try and come up with an alternative and we’d just dice with the rain.

It was raining when Jon picked us up at 5:45am which along with the early start wasn’t promoting positive feelings. But by the time we arrived in Mittagong, with plenty of time for a coffee, it wasn’t raining and things were looking up.

The highlights of this walk really came once we got to the cliffs lines – but that was a few hours walking away. During the morning the rain came and went but fortunately the scrub was a lot less intense than feared.

Tom’s recommendation to wear long pants had caused Jon a great deal of consternation before we’d departed but ultimately he had opted not just for long pants but also overpants. Despite this somehow I was in front for a decent period and by morning tea my trousers were saturated from the wet bush.

We were happy to get to some views for lunch, though the choice of lunch platform seemed to be a trial for some of the more cantankerous party members. Initially I was unhappy that the fine conditions changed to light drizzle as we started lunch, but then the most complete and intense rainbow I have ever witnessed filled the vista before us. Surely worth the damp for the spectacle!

After lunch we explored the nearby ridge and then keen people went looking for a pass through the cliff line.

Eventually we regained our packs and headed off towards Surveyors Crag. The water run en route was a bit more effort than expected – for both the effort through the vegetation and the amount we had to drop to find water. Subsequently we didn’t have a lot of time to set up camp before we lost the light on the cliffs. Nonetheless the views were still spectacular for a jovial happy hour.

A late spattering of rain sent most of us off to bed a little earlier than we might have gone otherwise. While Jon had suggested a band of rain was on the way it seemed to largely bypass us, and along with a reasonably windy night, the tents were dry in the morning.

A few of us got up for sunrise and we had breakfast in our happy spot looking over the Nattai valley.

I had found the remains of the logbook container in the cairn when we’d arrived on Saturday afternoon but hadn’t had time to poke around for anything else. On Sunday I was surprised to find the logbook, unprotected from the elements, other than being inside the trig cairn, still relatively intact.* The logbook hadn’t seen much use – a total of two entries since it was placed in 1996!

I know an SBW party visited the spot in May 2018 but they obviously didn’t fill it in. I had wondered about how that trip had gone as it was pre-fires and I imagined the scrub would have been quite bad. But when I went back and reviewed the trip report from the 2018 day walk it had been shortly after an RFS burn. The report concluded “I can honestly say that if it wasn’t for the recent burn we would most likely not have reached our destination in a single day without some very serious night walking.” (as it was they finished after dark).

Since we weren’t doing a day walk we had time for more exploration – so Sunday morning had us crossing a gully so we could get to what Tom had christened “Pointy Point”. (Look at the Hilltop map and you should be able to work out where Pointy Point is!)

The descent creek was a pleasant surprise. Scoured sandstone made for some fun rock-hopping and boulder-scrambling.

Getting up the other side was a completely different story. I took the lead in plunging uphill through dead incense plants, fallen trees and general vegetation. We eventually got to the top of the other side, which after the 2 hour crossing, meant it was morning tea time!

I think we were all relieved when the Pointy Point ridge was relatively easy walking. It would be interesting to know how much the 2018 RFS burn impacted how severely the different ridges burnt.

More splendid views and scrambling around edges of Pointy Point kept us entertained before lunch.

Tom had to shelve his idea of another gully crossing as we were running out of time. Post-lunch walking was something of a grind as we followed boring broad ridges and eventually retraced our route back to the cars. I was expecting a post-sunset finish so it was a bonus that we got back just before 5pm.

We capped the weekend off with an early dinner at the Mittagong RSL. Another fun weekend out in the bush with a boisterous party.

 

*While the logbook was in “relatively” good condition it was still very weather affected and so I took it & the remains of the container home with me. Future visitors won’t find a logbook unless a new one gets placed.

Caro put a Short Notice Walk on the Program which offered a short(er) drive from home, so we signed up. It ended up being a very satisfying weekend of exploring off the Mt Hay Road. And finished in time for afternoon tea in Leura on Sunday. As Tom would say “stoked!” 🙂