No Trout on the Tops - A Brilliantly Poxy Easter in Kahurangi National Park

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No Trout on the Tops A Brilliantly Poxy Easter in Kahurangi National Park Jeanine Langvik After the usual ferry ride across the ditch, we arrived at the Matiri Valley roadend, a place riddled with COW poo. (Our glorious and fearless leader was observed immersing his pack in it for unknown reasons.) The night began with a spectacular and mysterious flash of light which lit the whole place up for several seconds. The incident remains unexplained, but possible causes ranged from aliens and X-files, to stray meteorites or comets. ood Friday dawned with fine glorious weather, setting the scene for the rest of the trip. We arrived at Lake Matiri Hut for an early lunch, psyching ourselves up for the 700m climb that lay ahead of us up to the Thousand Acre Plateau. The ascent was indeed steep, providing us with spectacular views of Lake Matiri below. After an overdose of cardiovascular exercise, we reached the Thousand Acre Plateau, a spectacular area off tussock with the awesome Needle and the Haystack mountains in the distance. Thousand Acre Plateau and the Haystack Wayne Stevens After a short recovery and regrouping, we continued on across the plateau, hoping to get as far as possible through the beech forest and up onto a low plateau bethat day. We passed Poor Pete's Hut and found an excel- tween the Needle and the Haystack. From there it was lent campsite out in the tussock. The group, knackered a steep climb up to the ridge, and along it to the sumfrom the day's slog up the hill, was rather quiet; some- mit of the Haystack. The ridge was narrow in places, one suggested that we were the Deaf and Mute TC... But with rock that disintegrated just from being looked at. we recovered and had dinner around a great bonfire. As An awesome view from the top: mountains as far as the the stars appeared, Eleanor us a thorough lesson in eye could see, from the Mt Owen massif in the east to astronomy. We now know ANYE about Orion, the upside- the West Coast far away on the horizon. We had lunch down hunter, and the two poodles who follow him; at the summit, and Struan entertained us with his fishblack holes, nebulas and stars made of beetlejuice. Fas- ing antics. cinating stuff. After lunch we followed the ridge and it got pretty gnarly Temperatures plummeted to below zero that night, and in places. At one point we had to lower packs using a my bivvy bag had frost on it in the morning. We were piece of tent-fly cord. Wayne found some cool dark awoken by our group "rooster" Struan, yelling from his glasses on the rocks, and we were expecting to find a pit to put the billy on. That was to become a daily event! body somewhere beneath, but the glasses turned out to belong to Jo, who had scrambled down the hill earlier We were away by 8 am, conscious of the long day ahead that day. After this, however, the ridge provided easy of us. We had a beautiful walk across thel Plateau, watch- travel and we followed it around till we were between ing the mist rise from the tussock lands, and made our the Matiri Valley and the depression where Haystack Hut way to Larrikins Creek Hut by early morning. This small was located. Feeling pretty tired at this stage, we tried huti is spectacularly located right below a sheer rockface to find a camping spot on the tops, but lack of water led of the Haystack. After a short break, we made our way us to descend 300 m to Haystack Hut for the night. Tramping and Mountaineering 1997

Struan fishing on the tops Wayne Stevens Here we found some water in a couple of bog holes, but Asl Ihad predicted, the rain failed to show that night and it wasn't too bad. Haystack Hut was rather small, but Monday was another warm and sunny day! The most of the party crammed into it for the night, while a Raingod's status must surely be lowered after this! The few of us slept out again. track down the Matiri Valley was a long rollercoaster which seemed to grovel up and down quite pointlessly. Sunday we were awoken by our rooster again yelling for We were out at the roadend by 2 pm and a refreshing Ruth to get the billy on. We had another early start swim in the Matiri was enjoyed by all before we hit the by 7.30 we were climbing back up to the ridge. Poxy pub at Owen River. We were all happy to be there after then became the word of the day as we bush-bashed such a fantastic trip. down a gnarly spur to get to the valley. Holding on to trees (trying to decide whether trees have feelings), get- Epilogue... ting bluffed out (even 'poxed out') several times, and At the pub we were joined by a certain Club "Colonel", having to backtrack, we blasted our way through the (who at that time was residing in the South Island), plus thick and dense vegetation. Just before we got down to halfof the Fit group, hobbling around on sore feet. They the clearing where the track was supposed to be located, only stayed a short time, as they drove off to meet the we heard some noises penetrating the bush. It turned out other half of the group. As we passed through the Wairau to be one of the Fit groups making their way up the spur. Valley on the way to Picton, we met the other half of the We could not see them, but macho insults were flying Fit group at a totally different place from where the through the trees in the usual polite manner. others had said they would meet them. They were not happy to be informed about this, but took off looking for The track down towards the Matiri River was a luxury, the other half. Meanwhile, the Colonel and the group after having spent 4 hours negotiating the past 2 km. The leader now totally confused drove towards the clean water of the Matiri River was also a welcome sight, Wangapeka Track roadend to check if the missing puntafter near "desert" conditions further up the track. The ers were still stuffing around in the bush. The others, drivtarget now was McConchies Hut, or preferably a bit fur- ing around in circles, could not find them and gave up, ther down the valley, but as we reached Lake Matiri Hut driving off to Picton to catch the Lynx. The Colonel and about 5.30 pm, we realised that this was the place to Co, realising that there had been a major cock-up somecamp for the night. Flies were set up, fearing that where, blasted off in the same direction at the speed of Struan's repeated rain warnings might eventuate during light, and probably only 10 minutes behind the others. the night. Despite a clear blue sky that day, we were all Eventually they all made it to Picton and were seen assured that it would "piss down any minute now". It running around with panicked expressions looking for lost seemed more likely that our "Raingod' I's" reputation was property five minutes after the ferry was supposed to in danger, and that the man had virtual withdrawal symp- leave, much to the amusement of the Medium group toms for the wet elements. we had spent our time more wisely in a Picton pub. Tramping and Mountaineering 1997