Minus seven and still dropping

Minus seven and still droPping

The good news: the weather forecast looked good for the long weekend'

The ba-d news: the recent southerly had been more severe than anticipated and the local farmers were reporting a lot of snow in the area.

/A u-ping over Queen's Birthday Weekend sounded

I a qreat idea until the South Island was covered in

-Z u l-ayer of snow. Fortunately, with 16 people on the trip, I knew I could count on body heat if things got desperate. Considering that the aforementioned body heat would probably also be attached to some manky, sweaty, polypropylene clad body, I went for caution and threw fleece pants and a down jacket into my pack. At over 1000m altitude, in June, following snowfall, Thousand Acres

Plateau in Kahurangi National Park sounded suspiciously cold. Into the pack went a second woollen hat - that layer effect- and yet another pair of gloves, plus more food than I could eat in a week.

Last to be dropped off at the Matiri Valley roadend after a calm ferry crossing, we put up the tents in heavy dew, serenaded by the local farmer's dogs. After a shortened night's sleep we awoke to - you guessed it - the farmer's dogs. Emerging butterflyJike from or'rr sleeping bag chrysalis' we found dawn creeping around in a heavy fog' After locating everyone and breakfasting on the roadside we walked up the valley through farmland along a gravel road which became a 4WD track.

Our first obstacle after a short distance was a boulder- strewn creek. Various approaches were made. Some walked

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Sl) l p l 6 l ' t upstream looking for a cableway shown on the map, only to be defeated. Others boulder-hopped, some waded straight through and a few (fool) hardy souls took off boots and socks and shivered their way across. Regrouping at a semi- collapsed shepherd's hut we reviewed the various approaches and began to get to know each other.

From here the track became nalrower, running alongside the river, following old rutted bullock tracks. Someone had been along the track with rolls of cotton and we found cotton underfoot and by the track for hundreds of metres'

Where the track came up against cliffs the shaded areas were hard with frost.

Lake Matiri Hut overlooking Lake Matiri provided the perf.ect morning smoko spot and we luxuriated in the sunshine while pack adjustments were made prior to our main ascent. The track dropped briefly down to lake level and after crossing another stream we approached the B00m climb through beech forest to the Plateau. A second obstacle was encountered, a frozen slippery-pole bridge, which provided an unexpected challenge.

Then itwas up, up, and up. We gradually climbed above the cloud into the sun and saw the peaks of surrounding mountain ranges emerging, dusted with snow. In places, we could look almost vertically down on the lake we had

Tramping and Mountaineering 2001 /2002 der nd. ted 'ea.

rnly ight and mious left hours before. Stopping on a small knoll for lunch we were entertained by an inquisitive robin. After this rest, we followed the ridgeline as it flattened out briefly before a last steep ascent. In the final 100m or so we encountered snow and the temperature dropped as we scrambled up through shadowed tree-falls.

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Emerging from the beech onto the Plateau we viewed acres of tawny tussockland scattered with ice, snow and the dramatic outlines of dead trees. The group became widespread as people opted for a little sunbathing or photography on our way to our objective for the day, Poor Pete's Hut.

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Camp was established after shovelling snow to clear eight tent sites. We saw some fellow trampers from a distance as they put their tent up by one of the nearby tarns. They did not approach us at all and were possibly put off by the size of. the group. Poor Pete's Hut is a rundown two-bunk hut with the outside painted rusty red with two large yellow crosses on one side of the hut. The reason for the crosses remains obscure, but later we felt they could have been a focus of prayer for heatl The water supply was a black polythene drum that had a firm layer of ice on top. Seeing what looked like worms in the bottom of the love ling ces, had

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h s rll barrel, some opted for the walk over to the tarns to collect water. After some speculation about the vagaries of internal worms and their unfortunate effects, others decided to risk it. As the water was drawn down in the barrel we got a closer look at the "worms" and decided that they looked suspiciously like spaghetti.

As dusk drew in we cooked dinner in a couple of groups - the meat eaters and the vegetarians. With the temperature plummeting, people would disappear briefly, coming back progressively fatter as they added more warm layers. Seeking heat, we moved into the tiny hut, although the tougher ones remained outside. At about 7pm, Keith, one of three down jacket wearers, cheerfully informed us that the outside temperature was seven below. With clear skies, the temperature was obviously going to continue dropping. There were several bids and bribes offered for swaps of the down jackets. These were unsurprisingly declined. With the unlined tin roof and walls providing no insulation at all, we gave up and headed for the comfort of sleeping bags in tents. There, crossword pu zzles w ere solved and card games played in relative comfort.

Waking to a clear frosty morning, frozen tent flaps were cracked back, frozen boots and gaiters put on, and the rime of ice on the water barrel broken to enable ihe first cuppa of the day. Over brealdast the group assessment of the amount of sleep obtained began, and the time honoured inspection of nunryonu', br"akfash, or lack of, in some cases' "Can anyone spare a teabag?" was heard as a pitiful cry'

Route planning completed, we ascended the ridge behind the campsite .rorring herb and tussock toward Mt Misery'

The Needle and The Haystack, which rise some 400-500m above the Plateau. Dependent on timing and conditions' therehadbeenSomediscussiononthepossibilipofclimbing onn "t these, although in the end most decided not to' In the sunshine the frost melted and we warmed up' with luyu.. .o-ing off. Passing into the shadow of some hills' the frosted tuisock became a dream world of white frozen

,t undr. We passed frozen tarns and crossed equally frozen streams with a couple of humorous slips and slides'

As we got closer to Larrikin Creek Hut' nestled at the foot of ThJHaystack, the track passed through patches of bush and dropped down into bone chillingly cold ravines' I was looking iorward to seeing the location of the hut' as

I'd seen a very picturesque Andris Apse photo of it' Aniving on a winter moining, the hut in shadow from towering bluffs draped in frozen waterfalls was not as I had imagined'

Atnougn we all carried crampons and ice axes' they weren't nn"d"d for walking' Stopping for a rest at the hut'

"Garry the goat" demonstrated his nickname by donning

.*-ponr, Ind heading up the ridge between The Needle and f'he Haystack to gain the view to the northwest' Most of the rest of the group carried otr a further half-hour from the hut, having lunch in the sun above Larrikin Creek Hut with a view down into the creek and across to the smaller and higher Hundred Acres Plateau' Two more stayed near

Larrikins, basking in the sun'

Returning along the same track, we enjoyed the sun at an easy pace and got back to the campsiie to find the sun a) *o

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.*.3 as t ! - l o t { l rl 6 t *l iiE I o r T S had gone off it and the temperature was dropping rapidly under still clear skies.

Following dinner, a fire was lit in the hut, mostly for show, and one by one we moved into the confines, jockeying for positions o.t th" double bunk or two small benches'

Even with the body heat of all 16 of us inside, it was barely comfortable, although on this second night Keith declared it a tropical minus thiee. With a long cold evening in sight' a sing-61-1onn was suggested and so began-an evening of musilal -uyh"with classics from the English contingent such as "Oh, you can't get to heaven in a baked bean tin" '

Why not you ask? "Cos a baked bean tin's got baked beans in". Glynne lived up to his Welsh ancestry and began many u ro..,ri'ng rong, although sadly, as with many of us' the full song reriain"dtr.rtng, as we rarely knew all the words'

AnJMarina brought an appreciative hush to the hut as she sang Romanian gypsy solos, captivating us so much that encores were requested'

Eventually, with the cold again seeping into our bones' we headed for the warmth of tents and sleeping bags waking to another clear, chilly dawn' Defrosting slowly' we fu*ni rrp and again headed over the snow, ice and hrssock io the edge of thL plaieau and our last view of this magica place. Dr"opping down to [-ake Matiri Hutwas considerablg faster than coming up, and we enjoyed a long lunch in the sun at the hut. Tents were pulled out of packs to dry' anc luynr, .u*" off. It was then an enjoyable walk bacl alongside the river to our pick-up at 3pm and the drivt backto theierry.

The group was: Bruce Smith, Matina Ghitescu, Fiona Ptah

DebZrai Prowse, Jane Perkins, Ramon Strong' Rot

Barrack, Gany de Rose, Rachel Sander, Glynne lJoyd' Bec

Austin, Geoif Lewis, Paul Abbott, Keith Gerritsen' Tris

Knox, and our able leader GrantNewton'

Tramping and Mountaineering 2001/2O