Christchurch, June, Friday

At this time of year in Christchurch it’s not light until 8 o’clock in the morning. There are no birds to be chirping and in the city there’s hardly a hum to be made. It’s fresh, and I’m still cloudy from the mornings hostel dealings when I throw my rucksack in the hull of the bus.

The knee-high buildings of a recovering city are a pre-dawn wash of blue and magenta, and as we break through the suburbs I see through the window the sun rising over grass paddocks and pines. The white Southern Alps are cut with deep hue lines, and I’m reminded of what brought me to this country alone.

Where I’m headed, Mount Cook Village in the Southern Alps holds claim as being the training ground for many great Himalayan alpine expeditions for a swathe internationally reputed climbers. And I’m surprised to hear on my the way that the particular mountain I’m about to climb was indeed the first introduction to alpinism in 1939 for a once young Sir Edmund Hillary.

Mount Cook Village, Friday Evening

When I arrive at the village at the base of Mount Ollivier and look up the Hooker valley to Aoraki, and with a day lost in transit, it’s again under a changing sky. My hopes were to be here and starting sooner but from the DOC Ranger I hear there’s a small party just ahead of me, and so with the prospect of a mid-night rendevous I started under the cool twilight gaze of a shining full moon.

Gravel gives way to snowy steps at the base of the climb guiding you further and further upwards, away from the dwindling yellow pinpricks of the village. There’s an eerie roar from across the valley once you stop and still your breathing, a rockfall it seems; soft and constant as a breeze. Further upwards on the face a trail of bootprints lead the way, I follow them left and right in my torchlight, growing steadily used to the squeaky crunch with every foot-stamp that swallows up to my knee.

The night air feels thinner, crisper as I climb. A little brittle. It stings like a frost on the edge of each breath. Moonlight shines all back at me as a thousand glinting eyes in the snow. And on either side, weaving trails from skis slip unimaginably down now sheer faces of frozen snow. All my flat-lander familiarity left behind on those steps well below me now, I’m high and for a glimpse exposed.

But persistence pays, and as more and more rock begins to appear I find I’m looking other ranges in the eye, and behind a rounded corner on the final ridge I glance the hut and the other party’s torchlights little glows.

It’s 2200 hours by the time the three South Island natives, and I retire to Meuller hut’s bare-bone bunk room. Mat’s are inflated and bags unpacked, pesto-scented mist now blown from our mouths and flowing noses. Acquaintances made in our shared hilarity of circumstance in this room in this moonlight with this view. Scuffling and capsuling for any kind of warmth, we make loose plans to be up again for sunrise, kicking-on the slow building sentiment that this walk, turned climb, turned entry grade “summit attempt” was to be a little higher line experience than for what we were prepared. I slept cold and still exposed by a fogged up window, wiping blurry glimpses of immense faces in the night.

Meuller Hut, Saturday Morning

It’s still night when our crampons crunch the snow again, nursing-grad Becky and I the only two to surface. With thick throats and puffy eyes we started hollow legs together through the unbroken snow, further upwards on exposed ridge. My nerves aren’t eased as we hear and turn to watch an avalanche pop and cascade down the dawning face of Mount Sefton behind us. 

Pre-dawn is beautiful and it’s familiarity sweeps us as we round and summit. The eastern sky glows as we face west to watch violets fade pink and erupt in golds and orange that wash faces like dye with the life of day. Our pinnacle on Mount Ollivier is but a centrepiece in an amphitheatre of range and peak and face that surround us over glacial valleys on all sides. The whole world is being lit up for us. A world of the alps, a world of the South, the world of the mountaineer and mountain craft. A world lit in a moment for a flatlander looking around thinking,

“Yeah, this is a world for me.”

Intercity Bus Network offer lines from Christchurch to Mount Cook Village, and for a lesser fee to Twizel where it is possible to hitch a ride to the Village. Lockers available for small fee at the YHA and rental alpine gear available at Alpine Guides. All movements required to be reported to Department Of Conservation (DOC) at the Alpine Centre, where Meuller Hut camping fee can also be paid.

By Dan March

2018

Map here.

www.danmarch.org 

Maori name - Aoraki meaning Cloud Piercer

To Mueller Hut...
Aoraki/Mt Cook is the highest peak in New Zealand, located in the centre of New Zealand’s South Island. Being early March, we were blessed with warm sunny days and the route to Mueller Hut was clear. It completely snows over in winter, and avalanches become a real threat, so the track is generally only open mid November to late March. Whilst the hike is only 5.2kms each way, it is more than a 1000m climb with a large chunk of the track being a bit of a rock scramble marked by rock cairns and orange markers.

To start, you need to register your hike and if you want, book a spot in the Mueller Hut. We decided to freedom camp, and fairly easily found a spot a bit out of the way and out of view of the hut so we didn’t get in trouble from the hut warden. We were still able to grab some water and use the toilets at the hut, and lounge on the balcony post hike. We also locked up our more precious belongings in a nearby hostel for a small fee, even though we didn’t stay there. Pack enough water for the day, as the only water refill is when you get to the summit. We also took some beer and pasta; because we decided that carrying those extra kilos were worth it.

An early start is ideal, as there are too many lookout spots to count, so you want to be able to take your time. Each section of the track reveals more and more of the surrounding landscape, until you reach the top of Mueller Hut at 1800 meters, where there are 360-degree views of glaciers, peaks, vertical rock faces and ice cliffs. The first section is from the bottom car park and campsite to Sealy Tarns. This is called the Kea Point Track. This is the easier section of the track, though it is still steep, predominantly consisting of stairs (about 1800 of them). It leads to the Sealy Tarns track, which becomes even steeper, though the track is still well-defined and it zig-zags up to Sealy Tarns. There is a good place to stop and have a rest at the top of this section, and the views of Hooker Valley and Aoraki/Mt Cook can be seen from here. We had an incredible view of both the glacier run off and the peaks as well as the valley due to the day being super clear. It was also warm and this section got us nice and sweaty.

From Sealy Tarns to Mueller Hut you have to hike through alpine route rather than a maintained track. The track turned from tussock to a steep and rocky climb. Our pace slowed down significantly here, as every step had to be calculated. So it wasn’t as sweaty, but a little tedious. Once we navigated the rock field, the rocks turned to loose gravel and the last 50m of the climb was battling scree. However beyond the scree is a ridge where we stopped for lunch. The top of the ridge revealed views of the Muller Glacier and an incredible ice shelf. Another 20m following the orange markers and you reach the hut. There was snow when we got there, so we dug out a snow eski and cooled our kingfishers. I got scared of the Kias and we kicked around a rugby ball in the snow. We through snowballs and we watched far off avalanches from the hut balcony. We set up camp, cooked our pasta and explored the ridiculous perimeter of views the summit had to offer.

The night was stupidly windy and freezing so we rose pretty early, tried to pack up our stuff without loosing it all to the wind and took off back to base. The climb down is a bit rough on the knees, though at least we were no longer carrying beer and pasta. It was a pretty quick journey down and we descended in a couple of hours. The stairs at the end made my legs turn to jelly and it was really hard to walk on flat ground for about half an hour afterwards.
My advise would be to take your time and do this hike overnight, though you could easily do it in one day if you sped through. I would also advise packing heavy and taking a beer and a decent dinner as no one enjoys eating a protein bar for dinner.

By Rebecca Capp
2014

@bec_capp

Maori name - Not found

This particular hike can be done over several days or in one, you also have the option of kayaking through part of it as well. We chose to Kayak in and walk back this time. Another time I walked this track we caught a water taxi to Totaranui and then hiked back over 4 days.

There are 4 DOC (Department of Conservation) huts along the hike, that are equiped with bunks, heating and running water, or you can camp along the way. These photos were taken during a kayak to Anchorage bay and then hike back to Marahau. The kayak took about 5 hours, and it’s amazing, you duck into little bays with no one around or you can paddle out to some of the islands that sit just offshore.

In New Zealand terms it is relatively busy but most of the time it is quiet and you feel like your completely isolated. The kayak out was a bit rough, and we were constantly worried about capsizing, especially because I had my camera tucked under the spray skirt but once we got around the point it was a lot smoother.

The Abel Tasman National Park covered in native bush, Beech forest and large Kanuka trees, as well as the clearest blue water. I heard some one say that during the last ice age this area of NZ was spared devastation because of the high levels of quartz in Golden Bay, so the flora and fauna in this area are prehistoric.

The hike is pretty mellow, but the distances between huts is far. On the day we went our journey was about 9 hours all up but well worth it. Depending on what you choose, paddling or tramping, you will get to see some of the best waters in all of New Zealand.

2015
By Tim Hillier

timothyhillier.com

Maori Name - Not Found

This hike was so worthwhile, we did it twice in a week.

To be honest, we didn't complete it the first time due to deep snow prohibiting the final scramble, but we were so sure the views would be incredible, that we went back the next week after the snow had receded somewhat. And we were right! Mt Alfred sits on its own at the fork of the Dart River and Rees River. These two rivers combine and empty into Lake Wakatipu so, when looking south, you get a spectacular view of the delta land, the lake and the surrounding mountains.

To the north, you can see where the Dart River flows from- a place known as Paradise, an area that was used many times in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. There are mountains in basically every direction.

To get to the start of the track, you need to follow the Glenorchy-Routeburn road and drive around to the west side of the mountain- to the small carpark with a stile over the fence. This confused us as there was no typical Department of Conservation signage at the carpark and we almost turned back. (i.e., don't stop at the Diamond River carpark, keep driving to the other side of the mountain.) This side of the mountain is covered in thick beech forest. Once you are in the forest (about 100m from the carpark), you will finally see the sign. Not the best placement.

This track is great for forest lovers with the different shades of green changing as the sun moves overhead in the afternoon. The track at this time of the year is very muddy and intersected by many small streams. Good waterproof shoes are a must and expect slips. There are also a lot of roots crossing the path so trip hazards are all over the place. Home made walking sticks really helped with this hike.

The first time we did it, the track became snowy whilst we were still below the tree line. Some parts are steep and this, combined with the snow, slowed us down.

The forest comes to an abrupt end about 3/4 of the way up the mountain. The last quarter is steep and exposed and had about 30cm of snow covering it on attempt one. We tried to make a path up to the ridge, but it was too difficult with no tracks to follow and uncertainty about the correct route and safety of the trail.

The mountain had lost most of its snow on the second attempt, however there was still considerable cover on the final ascent. This time there were tracks to follow and we felt like the top was attainable. Scrambling up, there is a section that is very narrow with a sheer drop on one side so I'm glad we didn't attempt it in the thick snow.

On the ridge, there is a lot more to explore than you would expect. You can walk the ridge to the north for a few hundred meters to look out over paradise, or take it to the south for a shot of the lake. I think the photos speak for themselves. Worth it!

It is the best vista you can get in the area as Mt Alfred stands alone on the delta land- past glaciers have pushed either side of it. You can see into Fiordland and spot a few of the glaciers that are on the move today (sorry- not sure which ones!) and the start of the Routeburn- giving you a taste of what the famed track can offer over the summer months. There was nobody on the whole track the second time we did it which, I'll admit, made me a little nervous being on the top for too long, but it definitely added to the magic of the hike. (It's always good to advise someone of your whereabouts). When conditions are good, it would be a great spot for a picnic if you can get going early.

It took us roughly 4 hours up and back, with about half an hour at the top. This was in August- still winter- so other seasons might see you do it quicker, depending on your ability. I would have liked to have stayed at the top longer, but it was already getting late in the day. I recommend trying to start pretty early. You are advised to contact the owners of the area at the top of the mountain to let them know you are going to be entering their land as they might have livestock up there. (The number can be found on brochures about the hike/ at the visitor centre in Glenorchy).

This remained our favourite day hike in the area, and possibly the whole of NZ. I highly recommend doing it!

** Update Dec 2016. The Earnslaw Station who own the property above the bushline have removed public access. Anyone wanting to access the top quarter of the track will have to ask permission and arrange for a guide: http://www.glenorchycommunity.nz/assets/News-Files/Access-to-the-Summit-of-Mt-Alfred.pdf

by Jessica Channing

2015

flashmagpie.weebly.com

Maori name- Not found

Roberts Ridge to Lake Angelus, returning via Speargrass Track.

Lake Angelus is a huge alpine tarn carved into the Traver’s Range by a long-since-melted glacier. It’s nestled high in the range between lakes Rotoiti and Rotoroa, in Nelson Lakes National Park at the top end of New Zealand’s South Island.

To get there from Mt Robert carpark, we took Pinchgut Track to Roberts Ridge, which we followed over Julius Summit and down into Angelus Basin. Pinchgut is the hardest and most boring part, but it only takes an hour or so and there are some good views back over Saint Arnaud and Lake Rotoiti. Once you’re on Robert’s Ridge it’s pretty flat most of the way, but there are some boulder-hopping sections toward the end that require concentration. It’s just over 12kms and took us about six hours. You’ll need to take a whole days water with you because there’s none until you get to the lake.
The little peninsula that sticks out into the Lake Angelus is a good place to camp because thick speargrass provides some natural (though a little speary) cushioning. Alternatively you could stay next to that lake inside Angelus hut if the weather is bad, but that costs money. We went in February and the water was still freezing but we had a swim anyway.

For a change of scenery, and because it follows a fresh running stream, we took Speargrass Track on the return trip. There’s plenty of river crossings, bush bashing, and shin-deep mud, so bring good waterproof shoes if you’re gonna go that way so you don’t end up with the beginnings of trench foot like we did. This route is a fair bit trickier, and will take longer than Roberts ridge, but the forest is rad. In retrospect it might have been a good idea to stay an extra night at Speargrass Hut on the way out, because it was a pretty long day.

The best advice I can give you for this hike is don’t leave valuable shit in your car. When we got back to Mt Robert carpark, a bunch of cars had been robbed and my bag, containing 15 rolls of exposed film, was gone. Despite the best efforts of the rangers and the Murchison police force (which consisted of one guy named Mike), I never saw the bag or the film again. We later learnt that robberies are common at that carpark and that there are lockers in the Nelson Lakes visitors centre, which I would recommend you use.  

by Ed Gorwell

2015

www.blog.edgorwell.com

@edgorwell

Lake Waikaremoana is a place I grew up visiting as a kid. Both my parents actually helped build a lot of the hiking tracks in this area so it’s a pretty special place to me.
We arrived just after midday to the main campsite which after driving through vigorously windy roads and then a further 1.5hours on unsealed road is a beautiful sight. This place remains fairly untouched as it is very remote and isolated. We hired a chalet for the night due to time restrictions Which is a great choice if you are in a small group as they come equipped with a fridge and cooker. Also since the air can be very very cold all year around it’s a great place to take refuge at night with a hot cup of tea.

The walk starts at the main lake (Waikaremoana) and stretches through dense native New Zealand bush rising up to 300m in altitude. It’s really something walking along a track knowing you will more than likely not bump into anyone along the way. The air is fresh, the colours are vibrant and when you get to Lake Waikareiti the view is breath taking. The lake itself is crystal clear and you can walk out at least 200meters without in gaining any depth. Once back at our chalet at the main lake we opted for a few smaller walks to some historic native trees and different views of the lake. Definitely take warm clothes and if you want to get food from the store it closes at 6pm so be aware of that too.

Lake Waikaremoana is often referred to by Tūhoe people in the saying ‘Ko Waikaremoana te wai kaukau a ngā tīpuna’ (Waikaremoana, the bathing waters of the ancestors).

The following story is about the formation of the lake…

There once lived a rangatira named Māhu. He had many children. Māhu and his family lived at Waikotikoti on the shores of Lake Wairaumoana. One day Māhu told his daughter Haumapuhia (Hau) to go and fetch water from a certain spring. Hau refused. Enraged, her father drowned her and threw her body into the waters, where she was transformed into a monster, or taniwha.

After this, Māhu left the region. Haumapuhia remained in the spring at Wairaumoana, but she longed to reach the sea. She tried to go northward, but the Huiarau range prevented her; she tried to go east but failed again. Her attempts to force her way to the sea gouged out and formed Lake Waikaremoana (sea of rippling waters). Her final effort formed the outlet to the lake at Onepoto. It was here that Hau was overtaken by daylight, exhausted. She remains to this day in the form of a rock, with the waters of the lake running through her body.

source : http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/hawkes-bay-places/page-12

by Ben Clement

benclementphoto.com

2015

So I arrived on a freezing cold frosty morning, perfectly clear and open sky.
I basically ran the first leg to the first hut, because when I’m down in the forest and can tell its sunny up top I get hell FOMO for the views.

The first part of forest is very calm and pretty, on the banks of lake Te Anau. There are some pretty cool caves on the way up to the tussock plains that are worth the stop (Its a pretty hectic climb up though). I read somewhere that originally the mountain was owned by some farmer who would walk his sheep all the way up through the bush just to graze up top, camp for a few nights then come back down, which really seems rather impossible seeing how dense some of the bush is. When you get up the views are amazing up Lake Te Anau to the southern alps and across the Kepler mountains. Walking across some tussok (type of grass) plains for a bit until you get to the first hut.

Waking up in the morning with no wind overnight and very cold meant there was a thick layer of cloud that just hung all day at about 1000M and never rose so the views were incredible. Your second day is spent following a sharp ridge line all with a couple of emergency shelters and funny toilets hanging off cliffs, there is a side summit that is worth the extra hike and there is normally plenty of snow if your in the shoulder season, also watch out for deer as there are still a lot roaming about.

After traversing the high ridge right into the mountains for a while you can see right up into the south branch of Lake Te Anau and the glaciers of Fiordland. then there is a very steep descent into a dark valley with old stunted forest. The next hut although picturesque is exceptionally cold and trapped in a little valley which while I was there was blanketed with frozen frosty fog. It’s a well maintained hut with a river and waterfall included.
 
The next two days are a slogg through bush, forest, fern groves, mudslides, tussock plains and eventually the banks of Lake Manapouri. When you come out you find yourself in a gravel carpark in the middle of nowhere, I just hitchhiked back to Te Anau town with some bogan nutter pulling bongs and drinking beers while driving.

by Nicholas Ashby

2012

www.montyfairview.com