Mole Tops

Text taken from the club newsletter.

Mole Tops by ILLONA KEENAN

People are surprised when I mention that I haven’t done much tramping in Nelson Lakes. So I was pretty excited with the prospect of playing there over Labour Weekend. Given the dodgy forecast, our plans changed from Mole Tops to a trip to Blue Lake, with potential to go over Moss Pass and back down the D’Urville Valley. After dropping the other group off at a backpackers in St Arnaud we bravely made our way to the shelter at Rotoroa—driving past the Rotoroa backpackers thinking how staunch we were. Luckily I had my (new, kindly bought by boyfriend) insulated lilo so was the warmest I have ever been lying on the concrete floor of a shelter.

The view of the lake was wonderful as we waited for the water taxi to take us across to Sabine Hut. A trip on a boat is a great way to start a tramp. The kowhai were flowering on the water’s edge and you could pick out the clematis flowers in the forest. It was interesting to see all the snow damage from 4 years ago—with huge gaps in the canopy.

There were a bunch of Christchurch fisherman with their own boats at the hut. As we headed up the Sabine track, Sharon shared her understandings of the impacts of the Christchurch earthquakes. I really enjoy meeting new people on club trips—it is always fascinating to find out their backgrounds and experiences.

Despite the forecast, the weather was excellent tramping weather—cold when you stopped, but just right when walking. There was even a bit of sun when we were on the open river flats. Robins were making loads of noise, and there were signs of deer. The Sabine River was roaring so I was somewhat relieved when I realised that we didn’t need to cross it to get to Blue Lake. Seeing all the avalanche paths and scree slopes was great—and when members of the party stopped next to the signs ‘Avalanche path ends’, comment was made regarding our faith in DOC. The weather started to play games with clothing choice, the old guarantee that if you put on your coat and pack cover it was bound not to rain. I took a hit for the group and kitted myself out in full rain protection, which had the effect of no rain until the hut.

We got to Blue Lake just as it started to snow. There was a fair amount of snow on Moss Pass, so that (and being a bit pooped) dampened my enthusiasm to do the planned trip. Phil did a great job in collecting and chopping fire wood and getting a decent fire going in the rather under-sized fire box. A girls versus boys 500 competition kept us entertained until bed time.

Craig, the taxi captain, had mentioned the lack of good keen men and the negative effect it was having on their business. We had to concur the next morning, as hail and rain kept most of us in our sleeping bags, with no desire for a trip over the pass or up to Lake Constance. Paul was not slow in picking up on my dampened enthusiasm when he saw me knitting. However a departure time was

Photos: PHIL DUNLOP given, in true leadership style and the rain had stopped on cue when we left the hut (although it started again an hour or two later). There was a girl vs boy debate on whether it would be worth crossing the Sabine to get to West Sabine Hut (the bridge was out). I didn’t like the look of the speed and depth of water, and didn’t fancy getting all wet just to go to a hut. The boys on the other hand remained keen. Luckily when we got to the crossing point their enthusiasm had tapered off due to the wildly raging river so the plan was changed to head back down the Sabine again. We later learnt that some Hutt Valley Tramping Club members had crossed the river to complete a Travers-Sabine circuit. They said it took them half an hour to find somewhere they could cross, and even then it was pretty hairy.

There are lots of good camp sites in the Sabine Valley, and I was keen to camp rather than stay in the hut. The others, being a bit cold and wet, weren’t so keen. A little later, the roles were reversed, thanks to a rather amusing incident. Sharon and I had fallen behind and kept each other amused with general chatter. But the amusement level was about to skyrocket.

Natural log bridges don’t usually pose much of a challenge, as long as you are careful. I was crossing one on a side stream, when I noticed that it was over a rather deep (and inviting) pool. Unfortunately it was a bit too inviting as all of a sudden I slipped and was going for an unexpected swim. Lucky for me it was deep, as I fully submerged—Sharon saw the top of my blue pack liner disappearing under water. I soon popped back up to the surface, and laughing my head off clambered onto the bank. I was my own little waterfall with water streaming off me and my pack. An immediate priority was sorting out my pack, whose contents we assumed would be wet. But thanks to my pack cover it was still bone dry! Taking my coat off there was even a dry patch on my T-shirt. Much laughter occurred for the next wee while. We caught up with the boys a little later on and Paul immediately made the observation that I seemed to be rather wet. At which point I had to fess-up to my hilarious dip. By this time the weather had cleared and the others had decided that camping might be an option after all. However, my willingness to camp was diminished by my level of dampness so we ended up spending the night with the fishermen and others in a pleasantly warm (or maybe over-warm) hut.

Despite the swim and inclement weather it was a thoroughly enjoyable trip and I shall be returning with haste. Many more adventures need to be had in Nelson Lakes. Paul Christoffel (leader), Sharon Brandford, Phil Dunlop and Illona Keenan. MF Nelson Lakes National Park.