Tramping in New Zealand! The Heaphy Track and Lake Angelus Track

Further along the ridge came a section Steve suggested “might be a bit iffy.”  A narrow track skirted an outcrop that made up the very Robert Ridge, sloped and with the iffy scree drop-away.  Maybe if that “I” word didn’t come up I might have felt better.  Instead I felt a surge of panic, thinking of my big pack.

Yes, with tramping to Lake Angelus came moments of fear.  But all things considered, this trip went to plan and in a good way!  There I was in Perry Saddle Hut, the first night out there in Kahurangi National Park, my travelling companions and I having survived the rainy day and the pack-hauling some 800 metres up the hill from the trailhead at Brown Hut.  It was a gradual climb though.  My left foot hurt more than my right, dammit, but with only six trampers in the whole hut we spread our stuff out and settled in comfortably for the night.  Wekas greeted us – arrgh!  I spotted a fuzzy brown juvenile flightless weka bird, so cute and looking as though its feet were too big for its body, then mamma bird came along after.  Too cute, just cut it out!  These tame creatures were used to trampers.

 With Steve, Ying and Andy at Brown Hut, start of Heaphy Track

The Heaphy Track is 78 km of New Zealand Great Walk goodness in Kahurangi National Park, first established in the 19^th Century in search of pastoral land and gold.  Being a trail built to accommodate horses, it appealed to me for not being too difficult underfoot, that you could split it into five leisurely days, and for the transition of hilly forests and tussock-grass downs to the wild seascape of the Kahurangi coast.  In February I tramped it with my nephew Steve and friends from Victoria, Ying and Andy.

I was all joy cupping my hands to drink from side streams.  So much water there with pristine hillsides above, no people or farmland, and you just drink.  My upper back was predictably sore from my heavy 18 kg pack, but I had waited so long for this time, around six months in the planning.  The beautiful remote South Island mountains were rewarding already, and I could stop worrying about my pack now that I knew what to expect of it.

The vegetation was charming – mountain neinei plant with its pineapple-like heads at different maturities, many mosses all sodden by the rain, and big temperate beech forest.  Odd fallen leaves were luminous red against the dark ground.

 Miniature garden, Heaphy Track

Steve made friends with a South Island bush robin at some point along the forested track, squatting to push the dirt around, talking to this little feathered guy and stirring up maybe insects or worms.  Later on the track I met with another robin and did the same thing as Steve, down on the ground which was fun.  We crossed the sweeping Gouland Downs and then experienced the enchanted limestone forest.  Rain set in heavier just before Saxon Hut, which was a mental toughness test, but gladly at the hut we started the fire stove and laid out damp things everywhere – they actually did dry.

 Gouland Downs (this creek had a bridge)

Wekas!

At Saxon Hut I saw snail shells, from the famous snail of Kahurangi.  An ancient carnivorous snail called Powelliphanta, then Andy embellished the story, saying it can suck your eyeballs out while you sleep then aim for the optic nerve.  And then Steve said after it sucks your brains it acquires your brain power for world domination – slowly!  Very silly.  To put the record straight, the giant Gondwanan Powelliphanta eat earthworms and slugs.  The giant snails have feral predators such as possums and cats, and the Department of Conservation spends a lot of money on controls such as fencing off colonies from predators and laying 1080 baits*.  I saw feral animal traps on the trackside.  Therefore if you come to the Heaphy you won’t be attacked by giant snails and you might be able to see them near Heaphy Hut at night after wet weather, although I didn’t.  Ying was extra lucky to spot one between Saxon and James Mackay Huts in broad daylight.

Lucky sight of giant snail (photo: Yingying He)

On Day Three I was happy with the boardwalks keeping my boots dry in the Mackay Downs.  The modern bridges were easily above water levels after the rain – it would have been really swollen to have gone above the bridges.  The hiking was delightful among changing vegetation, with shiny golden tussock grass, forested slopes, neat little valleys and the vistas against blue sky and fluffy clouds.

At James Mackay Hut I braved the dip in a stream, via a muddy downhill track then a tiny water’s edge.  I popped into the cold water with a shriek and a gasp, swallowing a passing fly.  Squatted down awkwardly to get wet enough for a good wash.  Refreshing and invigorating good times!  A few days earlier I swam at Tata beach, whooping with ecstasy in the waves.  If you can bear it, I say don’t let the cold water put you off!  Later, Ying told me she and Andy found another spot on that stream with a spacious water’s edge, but had another tramper for company, making it awkward to strip down.  Anyhow this was a fine substitute for real showers.  James Mackay Hut was all hustle and bustle with over 20 trampers.  We met Richard the friendly ranger with a thing for quirky photography and sharing it with visitors.  He propped people on an outside bench in the evening light, for a circular fisheye shot.  The arrival and departure of a helicopter carrying an electrician to service the hut was entertainment too.  On the track we were always running into very young and tall Henry from Germany, and that night I gave him chocolate custard dessert.  Several people were giving him food actually.  NZ tramping huts are often convivial!

Steve and I walked to rocks above the hut and chatted about random things while gazing at vistas.  The distance behind us, and the long descent to sea level ahead, with a glimpse of the Heaphy River mouth on the horizon, and forested slopes all around.  Wild, green and glorious.  Silvery gnarled branches held up the greenness.  Even the white wash of the waves of the distant Tasman Sea you could just make out, so lovely in the evening.

Grand views towards the coast and James Mackay Hut

The big Day Four down the hill to Heaphy Hut was 20 km.  It started with more views of the distinct valley of the Heaphy River going to the sea, Deception Creek near me feeding into it.  The weather was sweet as, bro (talking like a local).  We descended on a knee-friendly gradual incline of 700-ish metres over 13 km, down through the forest and past countless side streams.  I was fortunate to meet a dancing fantail, darting from tree to tree, its tail feathers spread out wide and catching the morning light in a perfect arc-shape.  The others choofed off ahead, but I made it to Lewis Hut in time for lunch, on the confluence of the Lewis and Heaphy Rivers and a mere 15 metres above sea level.  I crossed the enormous Heaphy River swing bridge and met more amazing birds, this time the tui, in metallic blue-black plumage with white feathers at is throat, singing an amazing song.  I had to talk back, “yes I paid my NZD$32 per night…”  As you can tell the bird thing became a highlight theme of the trip.

From here things looked tropical: the ginormous rata tree, nikau palms and glimpses of the wide sunny river through lowland rainforest.  Not that we were in the tropics.  I sang songs while crossing more interesting swing bridges on this long day.  But the last hour things were really hurting and I was grateful for the Heaphy Hut, a powernap and stretches before evening came.

These palms, luscious hillsides and limestone bluffs as backdrops to the river were really quite stunning and ‘castaway’ – the river mouth a grand finale.  There were massive gnarled piles of driftwood on its beach from the recent storm – I picked my way through the driftwood in the evening to arrive at the busy waves crashing, the full force of the Tasman Sea.  The Heaphy Hut had a lawn out the front where folks were playing cricket.  Something of a paradise (except for the enthusiastic bitey sandflies).  Heaphy was also a busy hut including young men who wanted to make a bonfire out of the driftwood, but thankfully they didn’t in the end.

Last day pace – yes, the race to the 1:00pm shuttle bus was on!  Hiking 16 km in 5 hours and 20 minutes proved that I still need little breaks every hour for water, sometimes snacks and to give my feet and back mini-recoveries.  And stare at idyllic, immense Heaphy beachscapes, which rivalled Johanna (Great Ocean Walk).  I also had more driftwood to navigate and pretty bridges, while making sense of the troppo nikau palm flowers and rock-hopping side streams.  The rock-hopping became a metaphor for my future worries: we’ll know more about this stepping-stone crossing when we come to it.  After midday the pressure was on to hurry the f**k up.  My companions were ahead of me, last meeting with them at the half-way shelter.

 Enormous Heaphy Beach

Nikau palms and sunrays

Anyway, I made it somehow by hoofing it along the coastal undulations, pausing to roll around on my back for relief at Scotts Beach picnic table.  There were muddy landslips too, which were small fortunately.  Ying and Andy greeted me after the final and gargantuan swing bridge, maybe 200 metres from the car park.  By this time I was pretty stressed, but on arrival the shuttle bus lady said she had no problem waiting 20 minutes and likewise our flight.  Soon we were aboard the Golden Bay Air Piper 6-seater aircraft, in the sky over Kahurangi.  Miles of untracked mountain ridges, spurs, scree slopes and forested valleys below, giving an appreciation that the Heaphy Track and its vistas are a small part. 

Up to Lake Angelus/Rotomaninitua

Heaphy’s friendly terrain was a nice opportunity to reflect and daydream sometimes – all in a lush, green-smelling scenic environment with sweet bird sounds, like the chiming bellbird I heard and never saw.  But once on the Robert Ridge of the Lake Angelus tramp, Nelson Lakes National Park, it was best that I concentrated on where to put my feet and stay balanced!

As planned, Alpine Lodge staff shuttled us to the Mount Robert car park and we were on the track just before nine.  We ascended the Pinchgut Track, 540 metres of ascending in about 1 km on a good benched track.  After meeting a tame tomtit bird we were high enough to take in views of St Arnaud village, Lake Rotoiti and the hills beyond.  At the start of the spectacular long ridge section, Andy and Ying went ahead at their own paces and I asked Steve to stay with me in case of dodgy terrain or route finding moments.

 Tame tomtit, Pinchgut Track

The wind howled strong and cold enough for the odd combination of raincoat, gloves and summer shorts.  Above the bush line, Robert Ridge extended on with a great expanse of jagged mountains ahead but green and gentle behind us.  For company were ‘goth’ black butterflies flitting about, and jumping crickets with red abdomens.  The flora and fauna highlight of the day went to the vegetable sheep cushion plant that wouldn’t look out of place in a coral reef: pale green tight circles with a sheen, and yellow flowers.  Steve said if he was God he would boop them with his finger and the flowers would disappear then reappear.

Vegetable sheep cushion plant

Next on this epic day were little outcrops that sheltered the wind, and by good fortune the wind died down after a time.  No rain either :)  Some basins below had pretty tarns in them.  I soon had my hands full watching carefully my steps across boulder fields, forgetting lunch and just eating scroggin, and then inching down a loose steep section with my big pack.  Steve was very patient.  The focus was great for being truly in the present.

Then further along the ridge came “… a bit iffy” with drop-away.  People were approaching from the other side and waited for me while I said “I’m just going now.”  Thank goodness the outcrop was solid rock to hold while I stepped along the gravelly footpad and then up.  My new pack with all its conforming parts must have been a help for balance.  That was the most challenging section of the day although I worried another one would come. 

More time passed and finally a saddle gave us the first view of Rotomaninitua/Lake Angelus and Angelus Hut, 1650 metres elevation.  The lake was picture-postcard turquoise!  The descent steep but OK, so Steve went ahead and Ying and Andy looked out for me – I could make Ying out next to the hut in the distance.  They congratulated me on arrival and it was beautiful, all smiles.  Geez that was a hard day – why do I do these things?  Maybe it is in my DNA.  Then came the sense of achievement, and in striking mountain surrounds.

 Whoo hoo! I'm getting through this terrain on Robert Ridge

Lake Angelus/Rotomaninitua and Angelus Hut

Yes I survived my first of two nights in ‘crowded-house’ Angelus Hut, shoulder-to-shoulder with people on a sleeping platform (at least I had a window place).  Bunks are much nicer than sleeping platforms.  The hut was friendly though, including a cheerful American team doing stretches on the floor and chattering away excitedly.  Added to that an English couple grinning into their card game next to us, and many Israeli backpackers filled the room, including two who announced proudly they like to socialise with everyone and not just keep to fellow Israelis all the time.  Good one. 

On Day Two we woke to see ice on the decking, with still lake waters and fine weather.  Steve and I hiked up to Sunset Saddle and photographed each other there with our stank faces.  We also found a bit of snow up there to touch, and crikey the mountain views, all green-gold tussock grass and grey scree contrasted with cushion plants in flower and the blue-green waters of Hinapouri Tarn and Rotomaninitua.  Almost no one else around.  The stank faces were important because of our decision not to climb Mount Angelus with its steep terrain, responding to the pressure to do bigger greater faster more.  “Actually this saddle is enjoyable and enough for today, thank you very much world”.

Steve and me doing stank faces, Sunset Saddle

Returning from the saddle Steve and I became separated on opposite sides of a steep-ish waterfall and trail/cairns confusion, then we became pissed off with each other.  A few days later at possibly the best pizza restaurant on the West Coast we debriefed about what we could learn from the experience for future trekking.  In the Adelaide Hills I’ve since started working on my technique with willing buddies “let’s... just can you wait up a sec!!” 

At 6:00pm the realisation hit me that we’ll have to leave this beautiful remote place the next morning.  So I did my lake stroll, taking panorama photos and contemplating how worth it Angelus has been, and how to answer to life’s stepping-stone crossings.  Perfectly still, the lake reflections were a sight to behold as the temperature plummeted.

Day Three started with a chilly morning.  The Cascade Track was weighing on my mind in the lead-up, the contour lines close together on the map – one of the Angelus wardens said it is steep and a bit loose, “take your time and you’ll be alright”.  He was right and thankfully no scary dropaways.  Steve put his hand out for me again and again, just below my steps.  Ying and Andy agreed to stick with me for the first and most challenging part, which was near the start and it helped to be fresh, just after morning coffee.  I took Cascade Track really slowly, then predictably was rewarded with massive cascading waterfalls.  I did it!!  I imagined one of my fave musicians singing on a clifftop there with the band, all decked out in respectful NZ/Aotearoa-inspired warm threads (after seeing amazing things at the World of WearableArt®) adding some drama and spurring-on. 

The Cascade Track descent

After the rocky slopes and cascades Steve said “we’re not out of the woods yet” as we entered the steep forest, but just took my time.  My leg hyperextended twice upon stepping down (ouch).  It was a picturesque mossy beech forest as we followed the tree-root track and Hukere Stream down, which disappeared for a time then re-emerged in a torrent.  I’d taken fewer breaks than usual.  After what seemed like an age the valley finally opened up and Hukere Stream met the Travers River.  1:30pm and the route to Coldwater Hut looked straightforward, so I sent Steve ahead to maybe hold the water taxi for us.  Mostly flat walking by the Travers was heaven for my knees, which swelled up from all the impact!   

Hukere Stream

 

Almost there! The Travers River

There were regular glimpses of the wide stony river and backdrop of the opposite mountains.  I arrived at Coldwater Hut at 3:03pm, as in three minutes late, to see the water taxi zooming away on Lake Rotoiti.  Ying and Andy were somewhere, having chosen to hike lakeside to the village instead.  Steve explained he guessed I might be 20 minutes away, so Hamish the driver agreed to depart for other appointments and return at 5pm for a small extra fee.  So nice to sit on the little jetty in the warm sun and linger over lunch and snacks, watching black swans and ducks frolicking in the water.  And slapping sandflies on my legs was very New Zealand. 

Hamish returned and we enjoyed our scenic speedboat ride with buffeting “potholes” back to St. Arnaud, where the four of us reunited.  After showers we luckily received a place in the fancy Alpine Lodge restaurant for a delicious meal and a few laughs.  My feelings were bittersweet, the achievement and seeing such wild and beautiful country, but if only I could trek a little faster like other people, while factoring in breaks and taking photos.  Ying said she noticed that I recover well though. 

Big thanks go to my fellow trampers Steve, Ying and Andy for their kindness, lots of smiles and support.  Also thanks to Andy for speaking well of my trip organisational skills.

For Steve and me, tramping recovery consisted of a Monteith’s Brewing Company Tour (just the thing!), Hokitika for massages and the best backpackers place called Birdsong (home away from home), the rightly famous Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers, and friendly Kiwi hospitality.

*Source: Forest& Bird Magazine May 2005

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