Neill Winchcombe: The long and bumpy ridge

Neill Winchcombe: The long and bumpy ridge Ruth remembers sitting on top of Mt Reeves 14 odd years ago and studying the Tararua tops, working out what was what off the map. Neill-Winchcombe ridge, ‘hmmm….’ she thought ‘ should go there some time, check out the biv’. She also recalls shortly after DoC removed that biv. Ruth’s map then read ‘Winchcombe ridge A bit of history..… The 2 main peaks on the ridge were named after Alex Winchcombe and Wally Neill. They were the first to traverse the ridge from Cone to Hector, in 1929. It appeared they may have camped somewhere near the top of Cone before setting off. They had planned to camp somewhere along the route, but couldn't find any water. So they continued on past the top of Hector and used torches to make their way down to Field Hut. It took 17 hours all up, including many battles with leatherwood and snow. The biv was constructed around 1966 and removed in 1988 for relocation into the Renata forks area of the Hutt catchment.

DISCOVERED New species in the Tararua’s:

A new species of Trampus has been discovered in the Tararua's. Eminent botanist and Tararua’s enthusiast, Professor Paul Hughes, discovered the new species - Trampus lekii - during an expedition held over the Labour Day weekend. Professor Hughes proclaimed Trampus lekii to be significantly different from common Trampus, Trampus normali, to warrant its listing as a separate species. A distinguishing feature of the Trampus lekii is the holes it leaves in the ground as it travels through the bush. Thought previously to be caused by an upsurge in bush worms, Professor Hughes confirmed these holes are made by Trampus lekii. In announcing his discovery Professor Hughes described Trampus lekii as particularly treacherous with its tungsten claw located at the end of a thin telescopic limb and warns visitors to be careful when approaching. As Trampus lekii struggles up steep tree roots and rocky crags, its tungsten claw is thrown violently behind it and can inflict stab-like wounds to anything in close proximity. Other distinguishing features of Trampus lekii are blistered skin on the palm and fingers, joint inflammation, cold hands and paranoia about vegetative species trying to steal its telescopic limb. Professor Hughes has spent over 30 years studying the Trampus family and this is the first new species to be found since the discovery of Trampii gortexus in 1982.

Now at Labour weekend 2002, Ruth lead a merry band of WT&MCers across the Neill – Winchcombe ridge. There were two Paul’s, two Sharo(y)n’s and a Geoff - so it was quite easy to remember names. How had this motley band of trampers come to be on this trip? Perhaps they were too slow to sign onto any of the many South Island trips, or too poor to go any further afield than the Tararua’s. They may have been naively excited about tramping in the Tararua’s or maybe they just wanted to put the fabled Tararua weather to the test. Thankfully as there is now a marked track through the bush sections and a route across the open tops, it should take a lot less than 17 hours!

To Cone and beyond Across the striking span of the Waiohine swing bridge, a slippery steep track leads upwards - Tramping & Mountaineering 2003 Ruth Parnell removed’.

demanding effort and concentration to the rolling ridgelines above. The track to Cone Saddle from the Waiohine Gorge is a great way of leaving civilisation behind. Along the ridgelines, great buttressed red beech trees and tall elegant rimu dominate the forest. Giant vines hang from the trees above while keikei creeps along the ground and climbs up to the highest branches. Everywhere is green, mossy and wet.

At Cone Saddle the route crosses a fault line and the ridge rises steeply to Cone. The track from Cone saddle to Cone offered further marvelling at the wonderful plant life, often with unpronounceable names. Small view shafts in the bush offered views to beyond, so we could mark our progress to the top of this climb and be treated to the odd peek of our route for the following two days. Funnily enough, this second part of the climb did not feel as hard as the first grunty climb out of the Waiohine valley and we soon reached the cold and blustery open top of Cone. A quick regroup and we dived back into the bush to find a sheltered place for lunch.

After lunch the track dropped quickly into Neill Saddle, loosing roughly 200 metres of our hard earned morning climb.

Well refuelled from lunch, the group had energy for the sharp near vertical climb to the top of Neill. The climb was easier for Sharon and Ruth, who distracted themselves by discussing the antics of their respective feline housemates. Neill Saddle was the hardest and first of many undulations ahead.

On top of Cone Ruth Parnell Paul Hughes – bridge runner – discovered that he had not caught up with the latest gear on the ensuing part of the track. Back in 1904, one followed right behind the punter in front to avoid flicking branches and to break the wind. Nowadays this is a hazardous technique, as one can be inflicted with small holes to various parts of the body, depending on the enthusiasm of the tramper in front. The report of the previous page that appeared in the club newsletter explains the phenomenon.

Water crises in the Tararua’s - confessions of a trip leader!! Where there was a biv there must be a reasonable campsite and water supply, right?

As the trip leader, the closer we got to the camp/ex biv site the more I started to inwardly panic that there might be no water! That would be highly embarrassing. How would she ever live something like that down? Assuming that we survived of course!

We were in the Tararua's - how could there ever be a water crisis in the Tararua's? Tararua Footprints guidebook promised a "fairly reliable mossy water supply". Ruth had spoken to someone who had camped there before, and when she mentioned to a one A Higgins that we intended to camp there, his response was along the lines of 'it's a bit damp there'. He did not say "no don’t camp there, it is a lousy camp spot, besides there is no water".

Tramping & Mountaineering 2003 Despite all this, I spent the afternoon worrying that all would be OK, the words 'fairly reliable' playing on her mind, especially after pointing out our days destination & Paul C commenting that "it looks a bit exposed!!!!" Well we were standing on Cone in a fair breeze at the time. Ruth’s afternoon sanity was restored briefly when Paul H said he knew of someone who had been there and said it was a good camp spot. Phewww!

On arrival at our bush-line campsite, it looked comfortable enough, a bit damp, but full of potential. "So where is this 'mossy water supply?"…"You’re walking (soaking) in it” came the reply SQUELCH, SQUELCH. Ohh... Ruth’s stomach dropped, her sanity shattered, surely not!

Leadership tactic #58: Get the group busy on a task while you try to sort out the problem at hand: Paul H, Geoff & myself did a scout for water while the rest of the group began to realise some of that potential by setting up camp. Looking, looking.... no. A very mossy bog, but no water leading out from it. Dry streambed but no water. The nearest tarn that we knew of was 2 hours away on Hector, or further back on Cone - not an option, no other tarns or even puddles nearby. Looks like we would have to drop down to the head of a creek - or try to conserve the small quantity that we had. *@#$%^!!!

There is a God of the Tararua’s after all, and this God reveled to Paul H two clean oases hiding under leatherwood bushes. Considering the previous moment where we were faced with wringing out moss, they were like veritable lakes.

Tevas and socks don’t work in boggy hollows. Winchcombe Biv site is a problematic camping site. (Although Ruth would swear that it was not problematic, just unique and with its own little(ish) idiosyncrasies). Obviously the Biv would have been on piles to keep it out of the bog, something that Teva sandals are not quite designed for. That does raise an interesting one for the Teva designers... Teva stilts! Good for bogs, puddles & muddy patches! Or.... platform Tevas for those fashion conscious trampers! The platform sole could be hollow for weight savings & could be used to carry ...... uhh ....... emergency water supplies. Unfortunately the design problem with Tevas on stilts would be the ‘stuck-inthe-mud’ factor. Mind you, that could lead to a whole new tradition of daring rescues of the fashion conscious Teva wearers by the staunch brave boot wearers.

Cooking in the mist and eating in the rain. The biv site is ON the bush edge, not IN it, so Huey had us at his mercy. While the weather is not something a tramper has any control over, food is something fortunately we can play with. Trips can be memorable for just the food. The good thing about that is how it can have a remarkable effect on making the cold and misty rain on Winchcombe bush line less miserable.

Looking through morning mist to Neill Ruth Parnell When Madam Team Leader also happens to be an innovative meal designer, the prospects improve markedly. The first night had the prospect of being very miserable and damp to boot. But out came the couscous, feta, sun-dried tomatoes, olives and lots of vegetables. As we settled in under our shelter from the rain, expressions of delight and appreciation could be heard from under the flies. It wasn't that Tramping & Mountaineering 2003 cold after all out there - it almost felt Mediterranean... except for dessert; can't remember drinking hot chocolate and gooey marshmallows in Greece!

A night in a huntec fly – and reminiscing / wishing for a night in a hut. Huntec fly’s are quite noisy in a good blow, and when the driving rain comes it just sort of flap / flick / splashes its way through the fly and over the hapless slumberers. A bivy bag saved one punter, even though he slid out of the fly into the bog during the night, making one wonder why bother with fly at all.

Geoff had not long drifted off to sleep when he was unexpectedly woken by a face wash. At least that is what it felt like. In actual fact, rain had penetrated the Huntec fly and was shaken off to give Geoff a cold but gentle shower, the first of many throughout the night. Very philosophical thoughts from Geoff considering he woke in the morning with a wet sleeping bag! But perhaps the Tararua weather was being gentle on this Tararua first timer! Sharon G & Ruth were subjected to similar face washes also, but for them it was constant, as the wind direction had changed since the fly’s were pitched and showers blew straight into the gaping mouth of their fly. In fact, the only ones to survive the night in comfort were Sharon & Paul C cosily cocooned in their tent.

Over the tops and away we go…(some more flighty than others). The Tararua Ranges lived up to their wild weathered reputation as the small group of WTMC trampers carefully wound their way from crag to crag along the ridge from Winchombe Peak to Mt Hector. Rain gave way to hail. Winds buffeted the group as they wove between outcrops. Rise after rise loomed forward in the mist. Finally the ridge broadened and a small tarn came into view. The group reached the Memorial

Cross on Hector (the highest point of the trip) in 2 ½ hours from the campsite. The rain and hail had stopped but the wind ripped across the tops as the group of slightly bedraggled trampers found a sheltered spot to rest before they headed along the well worn track of the Southern Crossing, over the Beehives and along the long curving ridgeline of Dress Circle towards Alpha Hut.

A few hours earlier Sharyn had been straining up Winchcombe – Hector Ridge carrying her handbag, albeit getting heavier by the minute in the driving rain. Once on the Southern Crossing, and out of the rain the handbag dried out in the gale force breeze. Its weight was insufficient to stop her throwing her legs in the air as she flew off towards a Martinborough wine tasting. Had Sharyn been wearing a pair of stilt Tevas she could have been gracefully pirouetting across the tops instead.

Two parties of trampers were passed as they made their way in the storm towards Mt Hector and the shelter of Kime Hut. Despite always meeting at the most exposed sections of the track, we still found time to stop for a quick yarn and to give moral support. As the WMTC party moved closer to Alpha Hut, the cloud occasionally cleared to reveal rugged steep bush clad slopes falling away to narrow gorges. It was as if the ranges were surreptitiously revealing its secrets, only to clothe them quickly in storm once again.

How beautiful Alpha Hut is. After a slow grunt over Mt Alpha, the tired but satisfied trampers made a quick descent below the clouds to the luxury of Alpha Hut. There was plenty of time in the day to continue on, but exhausted from the constant howling winds, the decision was made to stop. So after a late lunch the group proceeded to turn the inside and outside of the hut into a Chinese laundry in a bid to dry out some of the wet gear. Geoff made it his mission to get that ‘lovely warm fire’ going but with only green wood and no chemistry set, he struggled to get it roaring.

Within the luxury of the hut the expectation of a culinary feast was increased, especially after the new benchmark for a "tramping feed" was set the night before in the wilds of Winchombe. Cheerful chopping sounds could be heard over ooh's and aah's as the goodies were spread over the bench. Yet again, Madam Trip Leader orchestrated a fine meal. Fresh vegetables & tuna on a Thai green curry with noodles. Funny thing about garlic... after 6 cloves, an extra 6 didn't make that much difference. What a fine fiery meal. Damp brows were wiped as the curry worked its way into our system. Yet again, hot chocolate followed by triple chocolate biscuits and a chaser of the remains of someone's chocolate block left everyone replete and happiness-filled.

The stories that followed late into the evening of schoolboy chemistry pranks were perhaps a result of the struggling fire and an attempt from Geoff to save Tramping & Mountaineering 2003 face. Cosily, the group climbed into their bags to let the day's hard walking and hard dining work its magic spell. Sleep followed (with the occasional gaseous expression).

Sleep was rudely interrupted at some ungodly hour in the night. It sounded like the sky was falling on our heads! Well, it almost was. The clouds released a short but very sharp and loud dump of hail. Everyone in the hut must have woken and commented ‘glad we are not in the fly’s tonight!!!’ That lot of hail would have been enough to flatten the fly’s. There’s something about a bush line campsite in the wind and rain that makes a tramping hut seem like a 4 star hotel. Although 4 star hotels do tend to have indoor loos. Still, heading out in the cold at 3am has its benefits. The ground was covered with a layer of white, reflecting a near-full moon.

Intrepid photographer Ruth refused to savor the last moments of sleep snuggled toasty warm in her sleeping bag. When she opened her eyes to the wonderful red glow that only a spectacular sunrise can have, she tucked her head back in for only a moment before coming to and leaping out of her bag and the hut, gathering footwear, parka and camera on the way. At the bush line a few minutes above the hut, the cloud had lifted to reveal the previous days route. In her haste she had forgotten to take her tripod! Dodging puddles in her Tevas she ran back to the hut and back again only to find cloud and hail overruling the sunrise.

Alpha and out. The layer of hail was still there in the morning as we set off on the easiest day of the trip – downhill almost all the way apart from a little 350m climb in the middle. Hell’s Gate failed to live up to its name, and Bull Mound likewise seemed misnamed. It’s a glorious piece of semi-alpine uplands with fabulous views to Lake Ferry and beyond. If anyone feels inspired by this to head up there, keep your eyes open for a missing Huntec fly. (Since searched for and retrieved by Sharyn).

By the time we reached the Tauherenikau River it was almost sunny. After a two-hour lunch break, Ruth spurred us back into action – a quick visit to the historic Cone hut then up and over the saddle before dropping to the Waiohine Gorge by the same track we climbed two days before. Great timing as a southerly storm and heavy down pour came through just as we reached the cars.

Homeward bound. There was still time for six smelly trampers (five urban and one track soiled) to enjoy a coffee and bite to eat at a posh Greytown café, where they kindly moved tables together in the small dining room. Two sets of couples inexplicably ended their long romantic lunches shortly after. Ninety minutes later smelly trampers were home, content in the thought that those who headed south for the weekend had yet to board the ferry for their return home.