No Fixed Abode: Well deserved R&R

Mon 08 Feb 2016 - Arthur‘s Pass - Final Grockle

A good night’s sleep at last but mist all around us in the morning encouraged us to take our time getting away. By the time we left and got back to the village the sun was out and shining. Today we’d planned to do some of the short grockle walks from the main road and generally have an easy day to let our calves recuperate.

First stop was the Okira valley. Described as a 30min, well graded route up a valley full of alpine flowers the route turned out to be rocky and green with the odd dash of colour from some very small flowers. Not at all like the glorious meadows of the european alps. Nevertheless the walk was very enjoyable and when we eventually reached the footbridge that was its conclusion we stopped by the fast flowing stream and laid in the sun on a large boulder watching the clouds form and evaporate and enjoyed the great mountain scenery whilst trying to remember what day it was.

Returning to the van we moved down to the next short walk to the Beasley Gorge where the Beasley river runs through a narrow gorge and cascades over and around many large boulders. We stood awhile on the footbridge and admired a particularly large boulder that had been sculpted into many smooth curves when the river is in flood.

Our final call was to see the waterfall at the Devil’s Punchbowl. We’d seen this waterfall on our way through the pass a couple of days ago and from across the valley at the end of yesterday’s walk so we were looking forward to getting up close. The men from the DOC staircase building department had clearly been here on a team building exercise as the route comprised almost entirely of stairs going up or down or level boardwalks contouring around the cliffs. All built in lovely NZ timber. Whilst admiring the craftsmanship of the team the grockle turned out to be a bit of a stair climbing marathon we eventually arrived at the viewing platform, another masterpiece of timber engineering, and our first view of the falls from the base. Wow! They are sooo pretty. Falling from a small gulley 131m above, the water is spread by the wind to drape across moss covered staircase cascades below forming dozens of small rivulets tinkling into the pool at the base. As the wind blows and eases the flow of water constantly changes. We stayed a long while, and could have stayed longer, bewitched by this most enchanting place.

Eventually we dragged ourselves away and with deep regret set off on journey out of the park. We’d really enjoyed our three days here but it was not over yet. Although most of the trails are around the actual pass itself the road east continues to meander through wide valleys bordered by towering mountains for many miles giving us a great farewell to this fabulous place.

Just out of the park we pulled over at a place called cave stream that we’d both remembered reading something about but couldn’t remember what. The information boards refreshed our memories that this place is where a small stream flows 500m underground through a circular tunnel in the limestone that it has carved over the millennia. The bonus is you can walk through it! It takes around 1 hour and you have to wade through the freezing cold water and climb up several waterfalls, all in the dark of course but, judging by the number of soggy people returning to the car park, it seems quite popular. There was even a group of, what looked like, three kiwi families with small children plus grandma and grandad, 15 or so of them, who’d been for a trip out.

We discussed giving it a try over a cuppa but with time getting on, a bit of a journey ahead of us still and, the clincher, the sun had gone so the wet walk back would be no fun we reluctantly gave it a miss. It was a sign of the times, however, that Yvonne was keen to crawl into a cold, wet, dark place and underground no less.

Following a recommendation on Wiki Camps, our new best friend phone app (thanks to Lloyd and Linda from Auckland on that one!), we were heading to a lakeshore campsite but on arrival the fierce wind mentioned by other reviewers and the rapidly descending clouds whistling past encouraged us to move further on. After passing through the tiny village of Sheffield with its famous pie shop, unfortunately shut, we settled into to our backup campsite on the river Waimakariri - by chance the same river used by the coast to coast racers we’d camped beside two nights ago and the point at which the kayakers leave for the final cycle into Christchurch. Maybe we’ll be ready for this competition in a year or so.