1000 Acres of Perspective

1000 ACRES OF PERSPECTIVE by BECCY DAY photos Gareth Gretton F or me, tramping is all about getting things into perspective. It’s about getting away from the daily grind, giving yourself physical challenges and becoming absorbed with more fundamental mental challenges than modern life normally presents. On a tramping trip life becomes, ‘where’s the next clean water supply?’, ‘what’s the best route up onto that mountain?’ and ‘did we bring enough pasta for dinner?’ Somehow, in these circumstances you are able to forget about your normal worries.

Occasionally, you have a trip that you know will go down as one of your all-time best trips. A trip that is challenging, that takes you somewhere amazing, that pushes you to your physical limit, and a trip that you become totally absorbed in. This year I had one such trip. It was to 1000 Acre Plateau and the Matiri Valley.

Gareth and I had tried to go to 1000 Acre Plateau a couple of times before, but weather and circumstances never conspired to allow it. Just before Christmas 2014 we were in possession of ferry tickets, a car full of tramping gear, a glove box full of maps and track notes, and no plan whatsoever. Studying the weather maps on the ferry it became apparent to us that there would be a week-long good weather window almost as soon as we arrived on the South Island. We were reluctant to waste it driving south, and realised that this was our opportunity to get into 1000 Acre.

To get into 1000 Acre Plateau you must cross the West branch of the Matiri River. I am a bit neurotic about water, and an extremely nervous river-crosser, so this was a mental and physical challenge for me. There had been heavy rain a few days prior to our trip and as we approached it was clear that the river had been high but levels were lowering. We assessed the standard crossing place and decided it was too risky with rapids just downstream, so we headed up the West Branch a little until we found a more suitable spot. Gareth is both more confident in water and stronger than me, but using all the skills I had learned on the WTMC river crossing course and restraining a few expletives, we linked up and made it across through the thigh deep flow. Assisting an ill-equipped tourist wearing Welly boots (gum boots) to cross behind us, and spending an hour working our way back along to the track on the other side, made our first day a good bit longer than anticipated, so we were glad to reach the comfort and fine views of Lake Matiri Hut. Unfortunately a possum on the roof kept us awake much of the night, but we were filled with anticipation for the trip ahead.

On day two we ascended the steep slopes from the Matiri Valley up to the Plateau itself. Enroute we befriended, or were befriended by, two Christchurch botanists full of superb information about rare grasses. The ill-equipped 1000 Acre Plateau from the Needle tourist had pushed on the previous night to Poor Pete’s Biv. He had little more than a day pack and was carrying a shopping bag (yes…. A New World plastic bag!) with 2 litres of milk in it. Whether he had made it safely to the hut, and whether we would have to use our brand new PLB on his behalf became a chief topic of conversation. The weather was absolutely stunning, which did give us a little hope, and the view down to Lake Matiri was spectacular. Thankfully, on arrival at Poor Pete’s Biv we found the ill-equipped tourist contentedly listening to the radio (which he had also carried in). We pushed on with the botanists to Larrikin’s Creek Hut. It was so hot the plateau wasn’t even very boggy, and the going was easy.

At Larrikins Creek I stripped off and jumped straight in a pool downstream of the hut. We crashed out on our mats in the sunshine and it seemed like everything in the world was good. We decided to take a rest day, and spend the next day doing a day trip up the Needle and Mt Misery. In the baking sunshine that day trip was far from miserable. The vista across the plateau was stunning.

Conveniently, we had enough mobile phone reception on the top of the Needle to check the weather forecast. It seemed our good luck would continue with no rain on the

Looking down to Lake Matiri while ascending up to the plateau way for at least four days. Ecstatic at this news we plotted our route onwards. We had pre-researched a route over Haystack and along the Matiri Range to a point (spot height 1326 if you wish to try it) where we could bush bash down to the Matiri Valley and to Hurricane Hut. Much useful information on this route had been gleaned from a trip report on the WTMC website – thanks Harry for that trip information!

For me, the next day on the trip consisted of four challenges:

Challenge 1: Ascend the steep scree slopes of Haystack. Challenge 2: Navigate along the narrow ridge on the top of Haystack.

Challenge 3: Descend Haystack through a region of difficult bluffs.

Challenge 4: Bush bash down to the Matiri Valley through steep bluffy bush.

Each challenge on its own made me nervous, so all four in one day made me extremely nervous. Luckily, I was not on my own and what I would not have been able to achieve alone was possible as part of team Gareth-Beccy (sometimes known as team GB). The slopes of Haystack, whilst vertigo-inducing, were not that hard to climb, and made considerably easier by some good route information from the Christchurch botanists (who we had waved goodbye to at Larrikins Creek Hut).

Ascending Haystack Haystack Ridge

The Haystack Ridge was mostly OK apart from one difficult step in an exposed spot. Gareth coaxed me round that (well done Gareth!). Successfully avoiding the bluffs on the descent, the only challenge remaining was the bush bash. Harry’s trip report had warned us that this would take around three hours, so we did have some idea what we were in for. Descending off the Matiri Tops into the thick leatherwood was like most bush bashing experiences: slow, painful, frustrating….a bit like some form of torture! After around 45 minutes we hit a bluff and traversed along to find a place we could descend. After around another hour it seemed that this descent route was impossible and Gareth mooted the idea of going back up and trying a different spot. I just about lost it at this point – we’d already had an eight hour day having started just after dawn to give ourselves lots of time. I was tired and I just could not see a way out of the bush. Recognising that I needed a hug, Gareth sat me down, fed me some chocolate and told me it would all be OK (this is something he often says… and it has a 50/50 chance of either helping the situation or just making me mad!). “I just want to get down” I wailed. “Well……. How about a little bit of down climbing then?” Gareth replies “There is a lot of bush to hang on to….”. We then proceeded to down climb a bushy bluff hanging onto roots and branches as we went. Under standard circumstances I never would have done this, but this was a trip that pushed me to my personal limits (Gareth probably found this a doddle - it’s all about personal limits!). Another hour of bush bashing and the comforting sight of the orange Matiri Valley Track marker appeared. Never have I been happier to see a little orange triangle. It was around another hour on the track to Hurricane Hut, and what a treat it was to arrive! We discovered we were the first visitors for five months, and, after a 13 hour day, we were totally exhausted. We dumped our packs, ate the most delicious tasting backcountry meal ever and conked Hurricane Hut out on our bunks. I don’t think I had moved an inch when I woke in the morning.

Today was Christmas Day and we were looking forward to something a little easier. We were weary, but the sunshine and blue skies and the thought of the Christmas cake we had carried spurred us on. Unfortunately the track was not as easy as we had hoped. We were clearly the first trampers for a long time and it was very overgrown with tutu - the bush bashing was not over for us yet it would seem. The steep river banks had also been heavily affected by slips and there were several large detours up the bank and down again. My legs were more than a little tired by the time we reached McConachie’s Hut. Backcountry roast chicken served as Christmas dinner and we bedded down. Unfortunately for me, my next challenge was an inability to breathe. Five glorious days of sunshine and high temperatures had brought the grasses that surrounded the hut into seed. The seed was so thick it was like a mist as you walked about. Only suffering hayfever mildly in normal circumstances, my body went into histamine overdrive and I was not able to get much sleep.

Thankfully, the next day, the exercise of tramping seemed to open my airways. Our target for the day was the familiar Lake Matiri Hut. Again it was a little harder going than we had hoped, but as we got nearer the hut the track because easier again. When we reached the familiar spot we really felt we had made it – it was only an hour from here to the river which we knew we could hop across in five minutes after six days of no rain. Safe in the knowledge that we were nearly out we indulged in something great - we ate all of the remaining Christmas cake. We didn’t have to save any for emergencies, we didn’t have to conserve it, we just ate it – heaven!

The West Branch of the Matiri was the predicted doddle and we joyously tramped back to the car. My boots had been gradually falling apart all trip and finally gave in on the four wheel drive track through the farm land. It seemed this trip had truly been the luckiest trip ever. I ceremoniously chucked them in the bin when we arrived in town. I had new ones in the boot of the car ready for tramp two and three of this trip (yes there were two more tramps to go before we returned to Wellington). We arrived at the Lazy Cow in Murchison, very scratched, very tanned, very dirty and very tired. We opened all our Christmas presents and ate everything in sight!

This was truly a trip that challenged me, and truly a trip that put things into perspective. Thanks New Zealand for bestowing your best upon us, and thanks Gareth for giving me a hug in the middle of the bush bash!