It just didn’t make sense to me. There I was, standing alone in a flooded stream, deep in a remote canyon in the Tararua ranges. It had been raining heavily all day and whilst I’d carefully followed the track markers I wasn’t convinced I was in the right place. I’d been clambering down waterfalls twice my height and climbing across huge log jams washed down in earlier floods. The all too occasional orange triangle would appear, encouraging me to not turn back. In theory I was close to the hut. In reality, I knew I could be in trouble. With persistent rain a river canyon was not the wisest place to be.
I was on the second day of a trip on the Northern most tracks in the Tararua Ranges. The trip had started well with a very twisty 30 minute drive along a desolate gravel road to be dropped at the second of the three Mangahao Dams. Commissioned in 1924, as the then largest hydro scheme in New Zealand, the Mangahao River is channeled through pipelines that drop more than five times the height of Niagara Falls in North America. The water flows into the historic Mangahao Power Station. The area is renowned for sudden floods with the Mangahao River peaking at a massive 510 cubic metres per second, which swept away equipment and leveled earthworks during construction which also claimed the lives of eight men.
As my ride departed, I could already sense the solitude, perhaps a premonition that I wouldn’t see a single soul for the entire three day trip. I crossed the dam and followed the track alongside the river before climbing 250m up onto the ridge where the view stretched from Ekatahuna in the East around to Palmerston North in the west. I reached Burn Hut in a couple of hours and some welcome lunch. The hut contained soap, fire-starters, magazines, dishwashing liquid, utensils and a towel. It was typical of huts in the area which are predominantly used by hunters who often stay for several days.
Continuing around the Burn Loop I dropped down into College Creek, taking it slowly to ensure that I had dry feet for the five hours of walking still to come. Eventually I emerged at the Number One Dam. I chuckled at the DOC sign ‘Cross the Dam at Your Own Risk’- until I saw the walkway. Suspended high above the watercourse and presumably built in the 1920’s, I hoped that the weathered looking decking was sounder than it appeared. It was, and soon the dam was behind me and I was I heading up the track alongside the Mangahao River.
The typical Tararua up and down terrain seemed more frustrating than usual. I’d work hard clambering up the side of a hill on all fours and then the track would drop straight back down to the river level again. The bush light was fading so I took the river route and twice crossed the river whilst keeping my feet dry. Then it was back into the bush with the final stint by torch, as the last of the light disappeared above the tree canopy. With some relief I arrived at the Mangahao Flats Hut and ten minutes later the heavens opened – the start of 24 hours of torrential rain.
By seven the next morning, I was back on the track in the rain. Two hours in, the track disappeared over the edge into the Mangahao River which was now a raging torrent. A bright orange triangle beckoned from the far side. Being alone I was especially cautious about crossing. Using a large stick as bracing I tentatively entered to test the flow. Whilst only knee deep it was flowing to fast to stand steady, so I backed out. Downstream the river was wider and a consistent depth. I crossed safely and felt relieved that it was over and that I wouldn’t have to cross it again that day – or so I thought.
The rain continued unrelentingly as I moved on up the track. Over a ridge the track disappeared into think ferns. The track markers were a lot more frequent and I assumed that adding extra markers was easier than cutting back the fast growing ferns. The track dropped quickly, steepening to the point that many times I was descending backwards using tree roots as hand holds. Soon I arrived at a raging stream and with considerable disappointment saw that there was no track exit on the other side. I couldn’t recall the map showing any travel down-stream but given stream travel was a part of yesterdays track, it didn’t seem out of place. I checked the map but the persistent rain on both the map and my reading glasses made it a difficult proposition to read.
Heading downstream was no easy task across the slippery rocks, rushing water and constant obstructions. Progress was very slow and with more than a little relief I noticed the track markers climb up the near vertical bank. However, within 15 minutes of treacherous clambering up and down the markers returned me to the stream. Again I searched for markers across the stream and again there were none. I groveled downstream and eventually found more markers, just enough to stop me turning back. Again a welcome exit appeared as the markers climbed steeply up the bank. The track improved along the ridge, although many trees had fallen across its path, complete with their massive root structures – some up to four metres across, making following the track difficult.
Once again the relative comfort of the ridge track was lost as the markers plummeted back down to the ravine below. Again none appeared across the other side, so I headed down stream. The going was tough with a lot of debris and no more markers to be seen. After half an hour it was time for a decision. I was certain that I was still on the marked track but I couldn’t keep going without markers. I’d been going in the rough conditions for almost seven hours but knew I could still return to last night’s huts before nightfall. It wasn’t ideal but I couldn’t keep going indefinitely – soaked to the skin and unsure about my location.
There was one major worry on my mind – to get back to the hut I’d have to re-cross the flooded Mangahao River. I was pretty sure that the heavy rain would now make it too dangerous to cross. But I had to retrace my steps from where I was. To add to my frustration as I headed back upstream I saw two markers just below where I had last rejoined it affirming that I was still on the track. But I’d made a decision that I should have reached the hut long ago and something was not right. I retraced my steps running the options through my head.
Firstly, I’d try to re-cross the river and get back to the safety of the hut at Mangahao Flats. However I knew it would now be in full flood and highly unlikely to be crossable.
The more probable option was the reality that I’d have to camp in the pouring rain without a tent. I was prepared for sleeping in huts, not in the rain. As I walked, I considered using the EPIRB I carried. It seemed a plausible option until I realised that helicopter access in the low cloud and high winds was near impossible. So I resigned myself to the real possibility of a night out. I’d return to the river and consider my options.
As I clambered back through the dense ferns to the top of the ridge I noticed something I’d missed that morning – a choice of two tracks. There was no sign. Out came the map and then I noticed some scratched lettering on the plastic track marker. It was very hard to read, even with rain covered glasses on but it was all I needed. ‘Te Matawai Hut – 1.5 hours’. Unbelievably, as I had come over the ridge earlier that day, head down and covered in rain hood, I hadn’t noticed the other track. I’d followed the markers straight ahead into the ferns and had kept walking. With no DOC signage there was nothing to suggest another track.
Later I discovered I had headed down the route into the South Ohau stream. The lack of signage was somewhat frustrating but ultimately I had to take responsibility for missing the turn and not reading and remembering the map correctly.
With relief I headed up the ridge. The trees above creaked in the gale force winds. Suddenly the ground underneath me lifted up by 10-15cm. It was the root ball of a tree leaning hard in the wind, partially toppling over. I leap onto firm ground and kept moving. Then I was walking in the door of Te Matawai hut – very relieved. There was plenty of dry firewood and soon the fire was roaring, drying out my sodden gear whilst I settled down to a pasta dinner. The storm lashed the hut into the night, but I was very happy to be there.
In contrast, the next day dawned calm and clear. I was on the track by 6.30am and steadily climbed toward Pukematawai. This part of the track is part of the Te Araora walkway and considered to be the toughest part in the North Island. Two hours after departing I topped Arete which at 1505m is not much lower than the highest peak in the Tararua’s – Mitre Peak at 1571m. The views of the valleys below were fantastic. It was a magnificent feeling and I was excited about crossing the Northern Crossing to the other side of the ranges.
The cute two man Arete Biv offered a welcome rest and on I went. But the Tararuas had other ideas. In rolled the clouds. It is said that there are only 80 days each year that are clear on the tops and this day wasn’t to be one of them. The few rusty stakes around the Biv disappeared and the route finding became tricky. For the second time on the trip I decided to turn back. I climbed back up over Arete and back below the clouds. It was a further eight hour walk to the road end near Levin. I was already tired and didn’t relish the thought of descending 1500 metres in one day. But it was time to head for home. As I walked, I reflected on my trip and the what I had learnt.
Aside from the obvious suggestion to DOC that a signpost would be useful, I’d learnt three lessons. Firstly, I needed to find a way to be able to read the map, even in the pouring rain and not just rely on studying it in the hut. Secondly I needed to carry an emergency biv so I could sleep out if necessary and thirdly, a mountain radio would be a useful companion to my EPIRB.
At the end I’d averaged over 11 hour days and hadn’t enjoyed my tramp as much as normal. But that was a function of the weather and the experience I’d had, rather than the region. The history of the dams, the remoteness of the terrain and the beauty of the scenery were all compelling reasons to return. Plus I’d learnt some valuable lessons. I was thankful to be safe and heading home – hopefully a little wiser and definitely a little thinner.
[Wild File]
Access: Drop off / taxi ($95) from Levin
Grade: Medium / Hard
Time: 3-4 Days
Accommodation: DOC Standard Huts
Map: – Terralink, Tararua Recreation Area, Maps NZTopo 50 series Levin (BN33), Shannon
Further information: Local Taxi service. Wally (retired) Phone 06 362 6319
[Photos]
Dam 2 Crossing: Start of tramp at Mangahao Dam Two
Dam 1 Crossing: Shaky looking crossing of Mangahao Dam One
Mangahao Dam1: Mangahao Dam No 1, Burn Hut Loop
Mangahao River Crossing: Flooded Mangahao River at crossing point
Waterfall: Typical terrain to clamber through
Waterfall Rich: Author about to climb waterfall as retracing steps (unfortunately I used the iPhone reverse camera to take this pic and didn’t realise it was only low resolution)
Uprooted Tree: Pack in foreground shows size of root ball of uprooted tree blocking track.
Uprooted Tree 2: Smaller specimen of uprooted tree on track
View down to Te Matawai Hut: View down as climbing Pukematawai – dot in centre is Te Matawai Hut, departed 90 minutes earlier.
Pukematawai: Pukematawai – part of Te Araroa Trail
Arete Mist: No obvious route so turnaround two
Author Details
Richard Adams, 55 Thompson Street, Mount Cook, Wellington 6011
richard@pinotgrove.co.nz
(021) 909-319