No Fixed Abode: Real Kiwi tramping

Mon 25 Jan 2016 - Mt Robert, Nelson Lakes National Park

Today we planned a challenging mountain hike to just short of the Angelus Hut involving a route of 12.2 km up to 1800m and then a further 11.2km home, so with a long day ahead of us (possibly 10+ hour hike) we got cracking early and drove the short way to the car park at the head of trail. After eating a hearty breakfast, packing lunches, sunscreening and sorting rucsacs we were later starting than planned but still ok.

With the sun shining in a clear sky and not a breath of wind (neither mentioned in the weather forecast!) the Rotoiti lake below reflected the surrounding mountains making a beautiful sight. The first part of the path was a steady, unrelenting slog of a zig zag track up the face of Mt Robert and we made good progress with our timings and were both down to our base layer of clothing. As we climbed higher it dipped in and out of the trees affording us some respite from the sun.

At last we reached the tree line and rounded into the plateau of Mt Roberts and a fantastic 360 degree vista. From here is was a short and easy stroll up a steady incline to the summit of Julius Summit, 1794m high, and more great views.

After stopping for first lunch and Yvonne taking some photos for a couple of German girls we set off along a long broad ridge with more views on either side. The trail follows the ridgeline for about 3.5 miles and we could see it winding ahead of us - some challenging looking sections to come. On the way we were overtaken by a young Dutch guy and an Italian girl who were marching with eagerness of the young to finish and get to the hut. Shame you don’t realise it is so much more enjoyable to take your time and enjoy it.

As expected the ridge became steeper with some rocky sections and several scree crossings that were loose underfoot so we took our time placing our feet with care. The wind was getting up and out of the sun it was chilly and we weren’t working hard uphill anymore, time for layering. At the junction of a side ridge we met some young French guys, turning out to be quite a European adventure, coming the other way and we asked them how far away from the hut we were heading for was. They told us it had taken them 2hrs but they had walked the start really slowly because they had a girl with them!

The final section traversed across a very steep section with loose rock in places and boulder fields in others making progress slow and tiring but eventually we came to a col where our return path joined. Stopping for a final selfie the new camera sustained its first damage when it blew over in the wind - at least we have a great photo of the blue sky and clouds!

With the steep, challenging but thoroughly enjoyable ridge behind us we were expecting the track down to be a sedate scenic romp. The map (well, tourist brochure) showed it followed a small stream down a gully until it joined the main river route in the forest, which we would then follow home. Oh boy were we wrong! The start was pleasant enough and reminded us a lot of the walking we do in Britain and we were joyously reminiscing of hikes back home but eventually we reached the bottom of a huge scree field and spent the next hour negotiating loose rocks on a 45 deg incline, then crossing the fast stream to fight through the native bush struggling to see the next marker pole before crossing the stream again to repeat the progress, again and again... We lost count of the number stream crossings, each one made after surveying the area before choosing the right sequence of rocks to hop across. The bush was a mixture of shoulder height grass, knee height scratching shrubs and huge clumps of flax with sharp leaves and unbending stalks that whacked you as you passed. By the end we felt like Bear Grylls on a bad day.

Eventually we joined the mud path, crossed over the stream bridge and sat on the bank dipping our feet into the icy water for as long as we could, eating some more sugary snacks and laughing about our adventures. We now calculated there was only a 3.5 mile stroll along a steady woodland trail, right? Oh no, The trail started pleasantly enough with the dense beech forest providing shade from the powerful late afternoon sun but within a short while it became an obstacle course of tangled tree roots, small energy sapping undulations and more river crossings - all of which took their toll on our energy sapped bodies. Some way in we came to the bank of the, now quite large, river and met a sign pointing up a steep embankment labelled ‘flood route’. Although the river was not in flood the path around the edge looked tenuous at best - but the flood route looked steep. What to do?

We were too tired for the scramble up and, after an exploratory look, Glenn thought he could see a possible way around the bank so we set off. Scrambling up and down and stepping on slippery rocks in the river we made steady progress until we reached a section where it had undercut a steep slope. There did look a sort of way round but Yvonne suggested boulder hopping to an island in the middle of the river then crossing a fallen tree which laid over the river with it’s roots on the bank to where the path restarted its track through the trees. So that’s what we did. The crossing to the island went quite well but the fallen tree was quite high above the ground and we were too tired to climb on to it, so we decided to boulder hop the other channel. This didn’t go quite as well and we both ended up with wet feet especially Yvonne who slipped off a rock, and, loosing the will to live, just waded the remainder in the river, calf deep.

It was a relatively short distance back to the car park from here but the climb out of the river valley was just what we didn’t need. We had to just get on with it. A tree marked with a small sign of “10 mins” didn’t even muster a response. We arrived back at the van hot, tired, smelly, scratched, soggy footed but weirdly, exhilarated. It had been an awesome trek.

The drive back, the best showers ever and dinner all passed in a blur and we soon settled into to bed for a well earned, and well needed, sleep. What a day!

Note- New Zealand distance measurement

We’ve noticed in our tramps that it always takes us longer to complete the indicated distances than expected - in some cases a lot longer - and we’ve come up with some possible reasons:

The kiwis measure trail distances using crude map measurements that don’t allow for all twists turns and ups and downs.
When the kiwis went metric to save costs they just put a ‘k’ in front of all the signs so 10 m (miles) became 10 km (not 16km).
They have there own unit, the kiwi mile (km) that consists of 2000m.
We’re old farts that are just unfit - highly unlikely!