Ruminations of a rollicking rampage through the resplendent Ruahines…
August 28th – September 1st 2011
We were out of Auckland by 3pm, and in the foothills of Mangaweka climbing through steep farmland by 10:30pm. Ruahine Forest Park – the old green sign welcomed us in. We crunched through the first snow about halfway up the 900m climb as we followed the Beech covered ridge by headlamp. It was incredibly still in the night, but even though we couldn’t see the mountain we could definitely feel it. The bushline slowly faded into open tussock, and after a few false alarms we reached Purity Hut. 1:35 am. No better way to kick off an epic!
Stefan stoked to arrive at Purity |
Day Two – We woke up with a shock of realisation: we were on top of a mountain – not your everyday wakeup call! From the angle of my bunk, it seemed that we were caught in a whiteout, the window was white. In a mad scramble across the slippery hut floor I rushed outside to the… Wow. A mad war dance ensued around the hut, an innately carnal celebration of the vista – snow covered ridges appeared from all around, with Mt Ruapehu & friends across the plateau.
Beginning the trek up the ridge to Wooden Peg |
We ploughed through the deep snow along the rolling ridge towards a small peak named Wooden Peg, the great Peg-Bagging mission had begun. Iron Peg was next, followed by the magnificent Golden Peg herself: Mangaweka. We ate lunch at 1724 metres, couldn’t have been a better day for it.
Stefan, Matt, Me – Summit of Mangaweka |
Helen strolls along the majestic ridgeline |
We later forked onto Iron Peg Creek, and set up camp at the main confluence with the larger Kawhatau River. DOC had told us there may be a shortage of camping spots by the river. Ah, that depends what you’re looking for we thought, all we needed was two trees to set up our bivvy! We huddled for warmth by our blazing camp fire, and used the embers to cook our creamy bacon, onion, capsicum pasta. By twilight we heard the unique whistling of the rare Whio – blue duck…
Fire by the Kawhatau River |
Climbing the rugged Pinnacle Creek |
We took a brief stop near the saddle, and as we taunted the mountain’s summer-like conditions, and before our eyes we witnessed the power of the range. Mist moved in from the north, obscuring the peaks above Waterfall hut. Lets go! The final push to the saddle was almost crampon-worthy but so short that we braved the climb with firm footing into the snow and solid punches of the axe through the icy crust.
Weather closing in as we began the traverse |
This fear-fueled adrenaline march was mentally exhausting, and it was quite difficult to keep the images of falling off the slope away from my mind. Luckily the snow was soft so we could stamp deep footsteps in anchoring ourselves to the slope. When we finally descended to a solid track, we were incredibly relieved! We hadn’t stopped for several hours, none of us was overly keen for a lunch break with one leg either side of a ridge top, so by 3pm we were ravenous for lunch. Glad to be in the safety of bush again, we dropped down steeply off the ridge to the Pourangaki river and began constructing camp. Here is the result of three engineers let loose in the bush:
Moments and axial forces balanced |
Result: Bivvy of Champions |
We chowed down vast quantities of salty Mi-Goreng inside the bivvy while reading Anton Gulley’s tramping diary from 2008. Here is an excerpt: “December 27th 2008. Again I just want to point out that even though I did not have a formal tramping trip I was not being lazy this weekend. Taitomo Island is a short climb 5 minutes round the rocks south of Piha and can walked at low tide…” After a soggy night in the bivvy, we threw all our wet gear in our packs and headed towards Pourangaki hut for breakfast. Would you like oats with your oats sir?
Crossing the Pourangaki River |
Our final hurdle before the sanctuary of Kelly Knight hut was the Pourangaki tops. With growing fatigue, we pushed towards the bush line for a third time, and with the altitude gain we felt the bitter whip of exposure heading into a hazy whiteout. There was no trail to follow, and slushing through steep, deep snow was a huge effort. Like a cycling peloton we cycled through leaders to share the load.
Through the whiteout… |
At the peak we discovered a possum who had courageously climbed as high as he claws could muster, and upon reaching the sign he collapsed into an icy heap. If only he could pass onto his fellow possums the tale of his conquest…
Navigating the tops was tricky in the 20m of visibility we had – Matt Lillis took a compass bearing and we three fanned off in the direction to find the next pole. Eagle-eyed Stefan found his calling in life with a string of remarkable pole sightings, the rest of us squinted into the foggy distance before we could make them out, meanwhile Stefan strode boldy through the deep snow like a man on a mission.
Matt checks the bearing |
Kelly Knight Hut – luckily still standing |
And on the seventh day we rested.
Further reading: Read about another trip to the same area in even more extreme winter conditions