PK - "For a Longer Lasting Fresh Breath"!

PK – “For a Longer Lasting Fresh Breath”!

Previously known as the “S-K” or ”Schormanns – Kaitoke”, this trip ranks as the icon of fitness essential tramps, especially amongst those from the lower North Island. Today the nickname of “S-K” still stands, but without Schormanns hut or track, many would suggest it is now named the “P-K” or Putara – Kaitoke. And then there are those who may wonder what the hell is one doing, attempting such a trip: they were no doubt responsible for altering the trip sheet in the WT&MC clubrooms. It now read “SicKo”!

With a revised name like that it was hardly surprising that no one had signed up, even though I had attempted to promote this epic opportunity. I felt frustrated that the trip would probably be shelved, even more frustrated as the long-range forecast looked reasonable. Weather almost always seems to thwart such trips.

A couple of days out and with the forecast looking reasonable I was readying myself for joining another trip, but the frustration continued to niggle away at me. I considered my options, and then thought, “bugger it”, I was going to have a crack, even if it would be a solo attempt.

After a history of tramping in the South Island national parks, the Tararua Forest Park has limited appeal, especially with its notorious wet and windy weather. As I planned the trip and mulled over the route I became aware of just how many kilometres lay between Putara and Kime Hut. After all, this was all new terrain for me. After bashing about in the southern Tararua’s, this was my first trip to the northern part of the park. That could make it a little tricky, I thought. Navigation will take a little more care.

“Just stay on the ridge and you can’t go too far wrong,” I reasoned.

Friday evening arrives and the mission begins. It’s 7:20pm and I race ahead of Andrew and Kirsty who have given me a lift. They are relaxing over a fit trip. Never before has a fit trip looked so “normal” and “relaxing”! I reach Herepai Hut and it’s only 8:30pm. My breath is already short – where is that “longer lasting fresh breath” provided for by PK”?

It’s at this point I realise that taking the club transport would have been better. I had improved my chances of making it in a weekend, but to get through before 48 hours had gone by was trickier. I faced a decision - to stay put for the night, or to push on to Dundas Hut? Allen Higgin’s words of advice rang through: “Dundas is tricky to find if the conditions aren’t great”. It was a long way from a full moon and while the sky was clear, a rogue cloud appeared from the nor-west. Herepai Hut it would have to be. But it was only 8:30pm! The night was young!

Like the frustration of thinking the trip would never run, I now crawl into my sleeping bag, thinking, “This is valuable tramping time!” But I’m soon asleep. I Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 Grant Newton awake briefly as the other WTMC groups arrive in the hut. The plastic bags begin to rustle but suddenly they’re all in their sleeping bags. It’s great to know how quickly people can get themselves sorted. It seems no time has passed and my alarm goes – it’s 3:45am!

Boots are on and I’m treading amongst the bodies strewn across the floor. The time is only 3:50am and I’m walking - well marching - on a mission. The sun rises, but fog swirls in around much of the tops, and even though Xmas is only 4 weeks away, a patch or two of snow greets me. I pause to consume museli bars; breakfast is 90 minutes after departure today. It’s up and down, up and down, and so on, before I spot amongst the clag, Dundas Hut. It’s just too far for a fleeting visit, I decide, remembering my mantra “Just stay on the ridge ........”

A photo stop or two along the range and then I’m thinking about Dracophyllum Biv. Oops, amongst that clag I never spotted Arete Biv! Then the cloud started to show signs of lifting. Off to my right Te Matawai Hut comes into sight, looking delightful, nestled in a sunny clearing, the hut lit up by shaft of sunlight. Another photo. The ups and downs continue, a tramping roller coaster of sorts.

Dracophyllum Biv is a peaceful spot as I arrive at midday. What a lovely place to sit down read a book and wile away the afternoon, I think. Instead it’s a PK luxury - a brew - and lunch. Progress has been good and I’m beginning to rate my chances of a night at Maungahuka Hut.

After 8 hours the rest was welcome, but I have paused too long: the body is now lethargic, the push to Nichols seems harder than expected. The hut is a detour, though a shorter detour than Dundas. Safety, I think, and down I head to note my intentions in the book. The haul back to the ridge seems exhausting; this PK thing still hasn’t given me a longer lasting breath!

The wind begins to blow and the first spits of rain begin to fall. Was I overly optimistic to think a fine weekend in the Tararuas was possible? My mind is fixed on Andersons Memorial Hut; the weather gradually deteriorates; the trip begins to feel like a case of putting one foot in front of the other - for a very long time! Andersons Memorial Hut appears, nestled in a clearing, and empty. I consider a night spent here; surely no one will be turning up now? But

Maungahuka Hut in the morning clag (Grant Newton)

I check my map and picture there will be a couple of patches of bush to offer a breather. I know that making it to Maungahuka will improve my chances substantially.

So back on goes the wet parka and off I trudge through the bush. Breaking out of the bush, the full misery of a Tararua storm begins to press home. Geez that hut now looked even more appealing. From the clag 5 people appear including club members Andrew McLellan and Jo McKenzie. They warn me of what lies ahead, conditions that are worse, and in particular, windier!

On I soldier, thinking now that Andersons would have been busy; lets hope Maungahuka is empty! The wind is vicious, and, as warned, the south side of Aokaparangi is wild. Flattened to the ground I pick myself up, leaning well forward to avoid being blown over again. Any thoughts of staying at Aokaparangi biv have gone – the clag means nothing is visible, and besides, I am well past it when I remembered this option.

Darkness was nearing and the wind was only getting stronger. I was down to 3 points of contact. There had been no patch of bush for a break. Hands were now clinging to tussock and moving only a hand or a foot, it seemed like the action of ice climbing! The darkness was becoming enveloping, no such luck of wandering to the hut under natural light. Out came the headlight, focusing on the overgrown route. I continued to think, “Just stay on the ridge and you can’t go too far wrong”. The altimeter indicates I Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 should be there but alas its just cloud. Then 15 metres down and to my left the outline of a hut seems to appear. Is it a dream, or is it reality?

A “longer lasting fresh breath”? Or was it “one big sigh of relief”? Never have I been so relieved as the moment I stepped inside Maungahuka Hut. I could stand upright without being blown over, but I was cold and shaking. A mere 5 minutes later and I had a hot brew and a further 2-3 minutes later boiling water was in the freeze-dry packet and I was in my sleeping bag. Hot food and a brew, my spirits had lifted. I eagerly set my alarm for 5:15am, away at 5:30am I plan.

The wind howled, the rain smashed the side of the hut. It was no longer night, but morning as the alarm rang and my spirits fell again. This was hardly the weather for my first crossing of the Tararua Peaks. I could only wait and hope. A 7:00am departure was planned, the route unknown, weather would dictate that!

The weather was easing noticeably as I set off, the wind moderate. Fog still enveloped the Tararua Peaks, but progress was safe. With the ladder behind me, the weather cleared and I set off in search of a longer lasting breath and Kime Hut. It was many shorter breaths later before I emerged on Bridge Peak, its distance a tease. Arriving at Kime, there were plenty of people and an early lunch break. Leaving Kime at 11:20am, a sub 48 hour PK was still a possibility – just!

The remnants of the clag at Kime Hut (Grant Newton)

Moments of sunshine and light winds, my stride lengthened and my breath became longer lasting! My arrival at 1:30pm at Alpha was also a stop to ring for a 7-7:30pm taxi – well Lee-Ann would be my taxi driver – my chances of meeting Andrew & Kirsty at Kaitoke at 5:30pm had gone.

On Alpha one has the choice of the main range along Marchant Ridge, undoubtedly New Zealand’s most boring tramping track, or the rarely travelled but beautiful Quoin Ridge. I chose Quoin Ridge, just to be different: other PK trips tend to use Marchant, mostly because they didn’t have a choice till the late 1990’s.

The open tops were pleasant, the un-tracked bush peaceful. “Just stay on the ridge and you can’t go too Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 far wrong,” I again thought. The final section was marked, yet these proved to be more of a frustration. Markers were so widely spread, I reverted back to bush bashing and then ahead lay that horrible final obstacle – a 350-metre climb on a 4WD track. It was 6:00pm and my sub 48 hour PK was still a challenge. The adrenaline was flowing, the breath was longer lasting and within 30 minutes I was beginning the descent. Phew, it was 7:00pm as I wandered into Kaitoke, a mere 15 minutes to spare.

The PK, one cruel way of building back one’s fitness in less than 48 hours, and of course, a way of capturing that “longer lasting fresh breath”!