Lake Ōhau to Karangarua

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LAKE OHAU TO KARANGARUA Saturday 22 December 1973 found four of us bouncing along in the bed of the Hopkins River in a van from Lake Ohau Lodge, to an eventual halt at Monument Hut (NZFS) and the nearby Memorial Cairn. The latter is a stone memorial erected following a climbing tragedy on Mt Trent in 1937.It was now late afternoon but the weather was perfect, SO after a final distribution of food and party gear, we set off. A short plod through bush above bluffs and then across flats brought us to the Huxley George track. This winds over a low spur on the south bank of the Huxley, crosses at a suspension bridge and, after another short climb, descends to the Huxley flats. We camped at the top of those flats - about two hours from Monument Hut. It dawned fine, yet we managed to get away without too much dithering about. One hour's easy riverbed travel took us to Huxley forks and, lo and behold, a new six bunk NZ. Forest Service hut with a stove,only one week old. Luxury accommodation indeed, and only three hours easy walking from a road. The old two bunk "dogbox" was still standing just a few yards away. Less than two hours tramping up the North Branch from here brought us to Broderick Hut, situated at the bushedge on a spur high above the river. Judging by the amount of material lying about, the N.Z. Forest Service intends to rebuild this hut as well, even though the present four-bunk hut is still in excellent condition. Wind and cloud began to build up around noon sO we stayed the night. In the morning it was overcast and drizzling intermittently, but there was no wind and visibility was good, So we set off. Broderick Pass (5250 ft) was reached in about three hours but by then it was raining and quite cold sO we hurriedly set off down the creek on the west side - abandoning thoughts of ascending Mt McKenzie (which promises superb views in fine weather). We sidled out of the creek on the true right sO as to keep above the scrub. The creek itself (called McKenzie Creek in Moir's Guide Book but not named on Lands & Survey Department maps - which show a McKenzie Creek some distance further west) plunges from the scrubline to the Landsborough valley floor three thousand feet below in a series of waterfalls. To avoid these one must climb out of the creek on either bank, On the true right, as we discovered, this involves a considerable climb through scrub and scree to avoid steep gullies which run down among the waterfalls. We struggled across several of these, with some recompense provided by occasional view through the mist of Mts Hooker and Dechen and the Landsborough River itself, before giving up and opting to try our luck back in the creek. At about this stage it stopped raining and spirits perked Descent, at first through scrub then bush and eventually down gullies full off ferns and logs was slow but not difficult. Once back in the creek we found three waterfalls remained below. However patient sidling on the true right brought us safely down to the little gorge at the foot of the falls. From there it was only about half an hour's walk through the bush to Creswicke Flat. Although a West Coast river the Landsborough is isolated from the sea by so many high mountains that its bush is open beech, much like that found east oft the Main Divide, and affords easy travel. Night, spent in the two bunk hut at Creswick Flat (which has a concrete floor, and a well cared for vegetable garden nearby) was followed by a lie in. Fine weather shouldn't be wasted though so we set off about noon for Kea Flat. Since the Landsborough is a big river and has a bad reputation when it comes to fords we held the true left bank. Much time was wasted climbing over a bluff just above Creswicke Flat but from then on the going improved, alternating between grassy flats and stoney riverbed, and Kea Flat was reached late in the afternoon. On reflection we would have been better to cross as there were excellent fords just below Creswicke Flat hut and another at the bottom of Kea Flat. As a hint of things to come it rained most of the afternoon. Arriving at Kea

Flat with visions of a hut to dry out in and a stack of airdrop food we were soon disappointed. The flat consists of a series of terraces predominantly covered with high tussocks and swamps. It took us about an hour to discover that the "hut" marked on maps is really just a mouldy canvas tent, and that the airstrip (with our food fortunately) is half a mile from the position marked on NZMS 1. The airstrip is interesting because it has a bend about half way along where it veers to avoid swamps. The airdrop was collected and we returned to the riverbank and pitched camp. For the following three days we stayed put. On the first it rained continuously and the river rose about twelve inches. The fireplace was shifted under an overhanging rock where we managed to cook properly without resorting to the primus. After its initial rise the river began to drop slowly. This we attributed to rain having given way to snow higher up. It even hailed at Kea Flat, a mere thousand feet above the sea, at times. On the fourth morning the rain stopped and by 7 a.m. the mist had lifted sufficiently to show that the weather had broken. New snow could be seen glistening on distant cliffs above Zora Creek. Mt Hooker is not visible from the valley floor but Mt Dechen more than made up for it. Dechen is a high ice mountain - there not being a rocky face or ridge anywhere to be seen I of strikingly symmetrical aspect. Above Kea Flat we encountered a stretch of riverbed choked with large boulders. While scrambling through these Dave slipped and fell into the swirling silt laden water. He managed to heave his pack ashore (ice hammer still attached) and scrambled after it, but his near-new ice axe disappeared in the deep waters. Attempts to recover it soon had to be abandoned unfortunately because of the danger to life and limb. The Landsborough was forded without difficulty using a pole at the usual place beside the Dechen Creek confluence. From there it was easy going, mostly on grassy flats, to Zora Creek where we stopped for lunch. There was no wire over the creek but we crossed in pairs without danger. Above here the valley sides close in and there are only two more small flats - beside Arbor Rift and near Hesper Gully I until the gravel floodplain just below the McKerrow Glacier is reached. The going varied from bouldery riverbed, to scrambling across steep slip faces and bashing through bush. Numerous bluffs and windfalls made bush travel especially slow. We camped that night in the bush on a terrace just below Struggle Creek I not realising that we were past the worst ofit. From there to Arbor Rift was straight-forward ifbouldery riverbed travel. A short bushbash above the river then brought us to an excellent campsite in the trees just below Broom Brook. Then more boulders, very big ones here, giving slow but not difficult travel to Fettes Lake. The bush suddenly gave way here to a barren little basin nestling beneath rocky cliffs and icefalls. Then more and even rougher boulders which soon gave way to grassy terraces. Here a thar was spotted amongst the last of the scrub in the valley. Lunch was eaten in the shelter of a bivouac rock near Hesper Gully, for it had begun to rain again. Scrub and boulders made the going slow for a while but then someone had the bright idea of climbing up onto terraces which could be seen about three hundred feet above. Once there however all progress was barred by a very deep and steep-sided gut. Attempts to climb above this were abandoned not far short of the snowline, so after pausing to admire the three high peaks opposite (McKerrow, Black Tower and Hopkins) we returned despondentely to the riverbed. The name of the stream in the gut - Fiasco Creek! (Good terrace travel in fact extends from Fiasco Creek almost to the McKerrow Glacier). That night we camped on a small level place opposite Repulse Creek. For the information of others contemplating travelling in the Landsborough, the true left bank appears to offer easier travel than does the right in the region between the Spence (Rubicon Torrent) and Zora Creek. As crossings would be particularly difficult in this stretch of the river a commitment to either bank should be made at an early stage. It was still raining in the morning but hunger, or rather the prospect of it, drove us on. A little scrambling around on grassy riverbanks and we were in the floodplain just below the glacier. Here sheer rockwalls on our left eventually forced us to ford the river just a few feet from where it rushed out of a black hole beneath the ice. What a gloomy place; view obscured by the mist, vertical cliffs running with water to the left, rushing dark grey waters below, masses of shattered rocks disappearing into the murk on our right and moraine covered ice ascending into the mist ahead of us. Luckily the clouds began to lift slowly and we were heartened to find footprints all over the place. Although we had encountered nobody in the Landsborough we had seen numerous recent footprints in the valley, and here on the glacier was no exception. At first the glacier ice was moraine covered but as we neared Douglas Pass this gave way to bare ice, scoured by rivulets into longitudinal crests and troughs. No slots fortunately. Once the clouds had lifted about 500 ft we could see the pass and immediately set off. On top at midday the rain had stopped but clouds still wafted around obscuring what would otherwise have been a magnificent view of Mt Sefton and the Douglas Neve. Douglas Pass is an easy climb up scree and snow on the McKerrow side, but descent on the Fitzgerald side involves tricky route finding down snowgrass through bluffs and waterfalls. Once at the bottom though it was an easy twenty minute stroll across gravel floodplain to Harper's Rock Bivouac prominent among other lesser stones of the moraine above the Douglas Glacier. This was too interesting a place to leave in a hurry. We made ourselves at home, spending the rest of the day over lunch, drying wet gear, reading, trying to spot peaks through the mist or just listening to the interminable avalanches off the neve. That night it poured. We awoke to find what had been a dry creek was now 2 to 3 ft deep and that Harper's Rock had become "Harper's Island". So much for hopes of a New Year feast at Horace Walker Hut (where our second airdrop was waiting). Still a storm in a spectacular place like this is quite an experience - especially when one is in a comfortable and spacious rock bivouac rather than a cramped little tent. With evening the rain eased and creeks fell as rapidly as they had risen. Out for a stroll I almost stumbled across fifteen or more thar, presumably forced down from the tops by the weather. They whistled eerily to one another through the mist as they rushed up the most impossibly steep looking cliffs west of Harper's Rock. Unfortunately photography was not possible in the half light. Another whistling creature found in the vicinity of the Rock was a weka. This we found interesting as it must have crossed a lot ofice and bare rock to get there from the nearest bush. Fortunately it was fine next morning so, after a short lie in, we set off for the Horace Walker. The route down the moraine wall on the true left of the Fitzgerald Stream, although very steep, proved to be the easiest. The glacier was skirted on the true left and crossed at a point close to the lake below seracs and ice cliffs. The lake (which did not exist at the turn of the century) has been left behind by the retreating glacier and is now about a mile long, making it one of the largest such lakes in the country. The Douglas valley is indeed one of unusual interest. First, the glacier being separated from its neve by cliffs more than a thousand feet high means that thunderous ice avalanches occur every few minutes. Then the lake, with its icebergs, and finally the tremendous gorges. To my knowledge these have never been followed all the way to or from the Karangarua. The lake was a muddy brown colour, perhaps as a result of all the recent rain. Travel around its shore at first involved climbing quite high through boulders but after that the beech was followed to the outlet. Then half an hour down tussocky riverbank brought us to the Horace Walker valley and a Westland NPB hut. As this was empty we made ourselves at home and then paid a social call on Brian Hunt's encampment nearby. Pete Reid was the sole inhabitant = the others being away exploring prospective routes to the Douglas Neve. The one via Wicks Col received the more glowing reports. That night, just as we were collapsing from the after effects of our New Year's (albeit one day late) feast, an exhausted Auckland University party arrived after having spent thirteen hours over the trip from Regina Creek. Originally we had hoped to cross to the Copeland via the Douglas Neve and Welcome Pass but the almost continuously bad weather made that a risky undertaking. We had therefore to decide between leaving via the Conical Hill route or crossing to the head of the Karangarua and going all the way down that river. The Aucklanders' accounts decided us in favour of trying the Karangarua route sO when it dawned fine we set off. Crossing the Douglas (which was still higher than normal) proved more than we were up to though. Even at the lake it was more than waist deep, quite swift and SO cold that one's lower limbs rapidly numbed. Small icebergs floated past attested to the temperature. We gave up and returned to the hut for morning tea. The weather being fickle we determined to waste no more time and set off down river, some 3% hours behind Brian Hunt's party. A route has been marked by the Westland National Park Board through the scrub in the upper Douglas. We managed to follow this to a point close to the first gorge where it was lost amidst boulders in the riverbed. Climbing high produced no further sign of it so we dropped down a gully and picked it up again. From there we managed to follow the little yellow squares to a point where the scrub finally gave way to bush beneath a series of bluffs high above the river. Then all evidence of a route disappeared and we spent the next four or five hours finding a route through masses of ferns and large mossy rocks, eventually picking up a blazed route again just below Conical Hill Saddle. Climbing over the steep lip of the valley and onto the saddle in the late evening was quite a relief we knew the worst was over. Camp was pitched in a sheltered hollow not far from a tarn and we enjoyed a perfect sunset. Mt Sefton was a bump on the horizon from here, effectively dwarfed by the immense ice-smoothed cliffs above the Douglas and the craggy silhouetted tops of the Bare Rocky Range. No difficulty was experienced following the snow poles across the saddle or the blazed track down into Regina Creek. In the valley yellow markers reappeared but were sO widely spaced that we lost them a couple of times. However they were regained on each occasion and we soon found ourselves dropping steeply to the Karangarua. The cage at Cassel Flat was very old but seemed sound enough so we pulled ourselves across. The precaution was taken though of tying two climbing ropes together SO that the the cage could be retrieved should the draw rope break. Cassel Flat hut (located in trees on the south bank of Curly Creed) proved to be a filthy ruin SO we camped once again. The evening was spent eating, dealing with sandflies (for the first time in a week or so) and watching a carnivorous helicopter prowling the bushline. Another fine day, making it a record four in a row with nothing worse than drizzle, and we were heading off down river. The old cattle track was located at the bushedge not far from the meatsafe and followed to the flats just below the Copeland confluence. From there on there was no distinct track, so we more or less followed the river to the roadbridge. Arriving at dusk we crossed and camped at the start of the Copeland Pass track. That night it poured, thoroughly dampening any remaining ambitions to cross the Copeland Pass. Those on the trip: David Cook, Chris Everett, Alan Parish and Hugh Middleton (leader, author).