By Lewis Thomson, 29 June 2024
Preface: apologies for the LOTR-esque length of this piece. In my defence, this report was originally written as a series of diary entries so I had a lot of material to work with. While reports of big trips are often abridged or summarised I'm hoping I am doing someone out there a favour by giving a full account of what actually went down on this classic VUWTC midwinter trip.
Prelude - The Sweet South
28/6/24. Matariki.
See the Dawn.
Instead of the Corolla, we have Patrick's parent's SUV, moving up in the world. On the ferry Chris brought out the Catan. Smooth as glass sailing. Catan really made the time fly. Pies/milk/sushi were our lunches of choice in Picton. After seeing the snow on the Kaikoura's we all yelled out 'SNOW' and then had the obligatory debate over whether we should completely change the plan and go to Nelson Lakes instead. But in the end the original plan was settled on. After dinner in rainy Greymouth we decided not to walk to Cedar Flats in the dark and instead just find a holiday park to stay at.
In Hoki we treated ourselves. Chris and I had both bought 1.5 litres of budget cola to use as our water bottles which we first had to drink. We then ate chocolate ice cream, chocolate cake and speights while watching Hunt for the Wilder people on TV. It was great - except all the sugar meant we didn't sleep very well that night.
Day 1 - Big country
The next morning we were up at 6 for a big breakfast of bacon, eggs and mushrooms. Then off we drove through the misty morning. As we got closer huge shapes began to rise up out of the plains: ka tiritiri o te moana. We reached the carpark at 9, bracing ourselves for the cold air. It didn't take long to warm up though with 8 days worth of food on our backs. I got a few hundred metres along before realising I'd forgotten my gaiters and so had to run back to the car to get them. Chris and Patrick, not to be outdone, also left things at various points along the trail. The track was pretty plain sailing to cedar flats. We took a lil detour to check out the hot pools, Tommy and Pat both had a dip though they were lukewarm apparently. Then lunch at the hut.
The valley narrowed and we crossed a magnificent gorge. The track kept going up and down. Just as the twilight turned to night Tommy exclaimed to me that you could never go back to normal tramping after this. Everything was big, almost mythical in proportion: the giant boulders in the river, the insanely dense bush, the incredibly steep mountains with their tops towering above us out of view
Things got a little more tricky in the dark with finding the route and whatnot. After crossing the river and a big side stream, the bush opened out to a mossy expanse and we arrived at the hut shortly after. Tommy immediately got the fire roaring with a snap of his fingers and before long we were digging into a banging feed of mashed potatoes and mashed sausages. In the toasty hut, we all snuggled in for a well-earned sleep.
Day 2 - It's Topo'n time
6am start, we left just after it got light, our boots wet and feet cold. We knew the forecast was for the weather to pack in so made haste. Up the creek we reached Toaroha saddle biv and got our first view of the mungo, though clouds shrouded the divide. We could see Sir Robert and Bluff huts far below us and to the south beyond the Whitcombe high snowy peaks gleamed in the sun. This was spectacular country.
Our route continued North up the ridge, at about 1300m the snow started and soon we were stopping to put our crampons on. The cloud grew thicker and heavier and doubts started to form about getting down the other side safely. But once we got to the top we decided to commit as the weather was still holding off. This route follows a spur on the TR of Topo Creek. The first bit consisted of a narrow ridge which we gingerly descended, clinging on to any shrub we could find. There was one rock step which required a committed move. We hoped it might get easier after that but this was optimistic: I think we all had a low point going down that spur. Mine was once we got to the bush; it was insanely steep and basically one big mudslide. The roots/branches of the trees were the only purchase and these were very slippery too. At one point I got stuck straddling a bush: my ice axe had fallen out of my pack just out of reach. With nothing for my feet, I had to use my arms to pull myself up onto the tree to retrieve it. Which with my huge pack took every ounce of my strength.
On reflection, I think I was just hangry from not having lunch but it was definitely pretty gnarly. The final bit was a rock gut which we each took turns clambering/bum sliding down so as not to drop rocks onto the people below. Finally, we reached the Park stream. On the other side and up a steep bank was Mungo hut, our haven for the next wee while. Mungo hut is a very cosy hut with an open fire in an amazing spot surrounded by mountains. Sitting in our sleeping bags with the fire roaring we were almost too sleepy to make dinner. Luckily we did though and had big bowls of lentils and rice. Then nodded off to the sound of the rain, now coming down heavily.
Day 3 - Mungo? More like Mung-stop
Hut day at Mungo. The rain poured down all day. We spent it reading, writing trip reports and playing Catan which Christ had brought along. I tried out the local bidet. We ate like kings: the BEST pesto pasta followed by banoffee pie. But later in the night Tommy informed us he was sick and had a stomach bug. Well, there certainly was a lot of gas going around. With this, we realised we would not be making it to Sir Robert tomorrow. So although I went to bed late I was expecting a big sleep-in...
Day 4 - Gungho in the Mungo
So you can imagine I was rather shocked/annoyed to be woken at 6am by Tommy saying "If we want to make it to Sir Robert hut we should probably get moving". What happened to being sick!!?? Ah well I knew better than to question it so begrudgingly got up and forced down some porridge. I should add that at this point Chris's knee was starting to give him some trouble - we decided to take it as it comes.
The weather was humid and cloudy and the snow hadn't appeared to have lowered anywhere near forecast. Yet because we couldn't see the tops there was some doubt as to how safe homeward ridge would be from avalanche risk. The track down the Mungo was the real deal: The river bed was sometimes good boulder hopping but sometimes very slippery. The track through the bush was invariably steep with dense bush. At one point we had to climb up a bluff above the river which was quite exciting.
Soon after the sound of a chopper zoomed loud and fast over heads. As they turned around it became evident they were coming to see us. My first thought was the bloody PLB's been set off by accident. But turns out they were there to ask us about a missing person who'd gone down the Hokitika. We hadn't seen anything but said we'd keep an eye out. Around midday, we reached the swingbridge to Sir Robert. Here we decided not to push on to Sir Robbo due to the time/snow. Instead, we continued down the Mungo now on nice DOC tracks, past Little Poet and up to Bluff. Everywhere said to beware of this track: 'very exposed active slips!' I was expecting Topo Creek all over again. Well, they must've rerouted it or something because it was in fact a breeze (well relatively speaking). There were some awesome bluffs on the way up.
The best part however came as we got to the bushline just as the sun was setting and finally got some views of the majestic snow-covered peaks in the alpenglow. Pure bliss. As Ivan had promised Bluff Hut is one of the best-situated huts in the country. The toilet might even be the number one I've ever been in, with a stunning view and a transparent roof for gazing at the stars. Inside the hut was toasty as despite being so high up, we didn't even need to get the fire going. Peanut noodles for dinner. What a place to be.
Day 5 - The ridge homeward
A bitingly cold morning, all the puddles were frozen over and the moss was crunchy underfoot. We followed the track up the Hokitika and found somewhere to cross. It was chillyyy. From there we found Tub Creek and clambered up the boulders, many of them frozen and slippery; it would be a while before the sun reached this side of the valley. Across from us bluffs gleamed in the sunshine and further up we could see the low dip of Frew saddle. We reached a fork in the stream and stuck with the TR as per the beta. After some trickier scrambling we reached the top, and finally broke out into the sunshine on mellow tussock slopes. Before long we reached the snow and strapped our crampons on, walking up in perfect conditions. The views kept opening up around us, and on the crest of the ridge we could see the massive main divide peaks right across from us. To the north was Hokitika Saddle and to the south Mt. Beaumont and the Ivory Lake area. After lunch, we ambled down the ridge making the most of the alpine atmosphere. The way to Sir Robbo did look steep. Once we reached the scrub Tommy got a few cuts and Chris's knee was hurting badly. But it was a lovely warm afternoon, and the track was gentle and easy to follow. Back at Poet Hut the grassy clearing was still covered in a hard frost. It seems that the sun never reached this part of the valley in Winter. Patrick and Tommy then chopped firewood while Chris and I got the fire going. The hut was rather damp and drafty, with the now infamous 'Louvre' windows. We were thrilled to find our sleeping bags wet the next morning from the dripping walls.
This was when we decided Chris wasn't going to be able to walk out. After a long discussion and consulting a very helpful 1960s first aid manual, we decided we might just have to call the chopper in.
Day 6 - Chris knee'ds help
We pulled the PLB after breakfast and the chopper came very promptly whisking Chris away no questions asked. We barely had enough time to give him the car keys. With the party down to three we slogged back up to Toaroha saddle hut - decided against a Diedrich range traverse - and instead lounged around in the sun. Tommy and I also had fun walking across a frozen tarn. We also invented a new game where someone lies on the tarn on their tummy holding a rope and is pulled across by the other person. You can get some impressive speeds up doing this, I definitely recommend it. A little bit more walking brought us back to Top Toaroha where we spent the night.
Day 7 - The hot pool hoax
Away, away with Billy and pack! We took a bit of a divergent route back, slogging up the hill to Crystal Biv, through the chill icy tussocks. Up on the ridge we got our last alpine views, but the cold wind spurred us on to Yeats Ridge where we had a brew and browsed the shelves. Saying farewell to the tops we got back on the main track and soon arrived at the hot pools for a soak. Only they were still very lukewarm pools, and we sat in them trying to convince ourselves that they were 'hot' and eventually started shivering uncontrollably Patrick sensibly headed back while Tommy was wracked with hysterical laughter and refused to get out.
On the way back Patrick bumped into a guy who he sadly informed of the sub-par hot pools. Yet when the guy got back he told us they were very hot. Ohhhh... So turns out we'd been in the wrong pools the whole time. After a surprisingly yummy dinner of instant noodles and peanut butter, we got to the promised hot pools. And they were just as amazing as promised, it wasn't a hoax after all. So we soaked our weary limbs, gazing up at the night sky till it was covered by clouds. Sometimes chatting, sometimes in silence and with one impromptu harmonisation set. What a blessing to lie there, happily losing track of time with not a worry in the world. Eventually, we got out and blearily stumbled back to the hut.
Day 8 - VUWTC old and new
Blue skies again for our walk back to the car the next day, in no rush. At the carpark we were reunited with Chris and Chris's dubstep. Downed the last bottle of speights. Then lunch in Hoki and across Arthurs pass with a stop at the eccentric Otira hotel. In Christchurch, we spent the night with ex-VUWTC legend Ivan and his partner Sophie. For a dinner of what else, Tacoes! Chris and Patrick the troopers even went for a night on the town in the big Chch. I was off on an early flight the next morning so went to bed early.
Thus concludes my trip report for Westland Midwinter. (I heard the others had a nice ferry ride back and bumped into Lochie and Rewa.)
Now for some parting words: I think we have faithfully continued the long tradition of week-long trips in the South Island over the Winter break. My hope is that this trip report may encourage you to do the same. There is so so much country to explore out there. Winter is a really special time to go tramping in my opinion, you get spectacular snowy landscapes, long cosy sleeps in front of warm fires, the entire hills to yourselves, and no sandflies. But don't take my word for it, go and see for yourself!
Catch you out there
Lewis
Viva la VUWTC