After a serene Thursday night ferry crossing we made our way to Tony’s ‘secret, secluded DoC campsite’ just north of Kaikoura. Arriving there before midnight, we were surprised to find that a pleasant campground had been turned into a campervan carpark and was full of campervans. We managed to find some free space underneath some trees to bivvy alfresco and pitch a tent. I mused about the relationship between ‘conservation values and gravel car parks’ as I drifted off to sleep.
Morning came all too soon. After breakfast, during which many of the campervaners departed without so much as a glance towards the snowy Kaikouras, we headed down the road to the start of our tramp at Jordan Stream. The mountains were clearly visible ahead of us and it seemed like a long way up to the snow.
For two hours we meandered up the gravelly stream, with Michael setting a solid pace. During our first snack break at the point where we were leaving the stream, we gazed at the long, steep scree slope we were about to grovel up. Tony helpfully pointed out the crux – a slightly steeper band of bigger rocks that were too loose to grab hold off to climb up, but too ‘compacted’ to behave with the slidiness of scree. Mmm. ..another drink and muesli bar aided my contemplation of this.
With ice axes for support we steadily climbed up the scree, accepting the ‘two feet up, half a foot down’ progress as a reasonable ratio for scree climbing. The crux came and went without drama – I tried to move gingerly so Elizabeth wouldn’t be bombarded with loose rocks. Once we were all safely over the crux, we progressed upwards through tussock and shrubs, interspersed with some rock scrambling to get onto the ridge. Tony had mentioned that the Seaward Kaikouras were NZs youngest mountains and hence the rock was dynamic (ie reluctant to stay in one place). I pondered this as we progressed up the ridge.
On several occasions I opted for the gardening route (ie hauling oneself up though vegetation that seemed to have some level of solid root base) in preference to the uncertainty of juvenile rock. And so the sunny day progressed as we earned every metre of altitude, though at times I wondered if I’d bitten off more than I could chew.
Basking in the sun at lunch, we had stunning clear views back down to Jordan stream and further up the Puhi Puhi River valley. Then we left the vegetation behind and tackled some more serious rock scrambling. About 5pm we arrived at a snow bank in a saddle at ~1600m – not quite as far as we intended to get but possibly more protected from the forecast south westerly.
We flattened a platform for the tents and hunkered down for dinner and the night as the rain showers and mist arrived. Sometime in the night the weather eased. In the morning, Elizabeth and Tony reported their separate night views of starry sky and the moon shining on the ocean. Post breakfast, we had a not-quite alpine start at 7:30am.
Michael, in his true mountain goat form, cramponed up the first steep snow slope whilst the rest of us scrambled up an adjacent rock rib. Once on the relatively flat ridge in snow, we put on crampons and enjoyed the alpine tramping that we’d come for! We even had sun and mountain views. With Michael forging ahead cutting steps and taking photos, we made steady progress, whilst the mist rolled in. There were a few patches where we cramponed over rock and we encountered some spiders that seemed to hover above the snow on their tiptoes. The snow was mostly firm but there were a few holes where I suddenly dropped in up to my thigh.
About 11 am we hit the icy start of the gnarly stuff and the visibility was very poor. Looking at the steep slope without a safe run-out, we decided that only Michael would go further to the summit. A bit disappointing but I was beginning to accept that summits could be elusive on alpine tramps, whereas inclement weather was generally not elusive. So Elizabeth, Tony and I carefully followed our tracks back through the whiteout – at times we weren’t able to see more than a couple of metres ahead. We stopped for a quick lunch break, wondering how Michael was going. We didn’t need to wonder for too much longer because he caught up with us. Michael made it to the top but had no view and mentioned that he was glad he’d had his technical ice axe and stiff boots for the gnarliest part of the ascent. So Tony, Elizabeth and I continued our careful descent in crampons. Michael removed his crampons and ’skiied sans skiis’ down the steep snow slope.
Back at the campsite at 3:30pm, we decided to pack up and head down to camp by Jordan Stream. So off we started, still with poor visibility. The going was fine and fast until we got a bit lower where it was clearer and realised we were somewhere we weren’t meant to be! After Tony and Michael consulted maps and GPS, we decided on an alternative descent route that would take us via farmland to Range Stream or the Puhi Puhi road. By this time I was feeling pretty tired.
Down through slippery totara and matagouri-laced paddocks, we were heartened that we were passing cow pats – if cows could get up here there must be a way down for us. Some moments of indecision and frazzlement as we debated whether to head for the road or the stream – which would have the clearer route so we could get to water and set up camp before dark? By vote it was decided to head along the ridge towards the road. Jubilation and jelly beans when we hit an old farm trail that provided clear travelling all the way to the farm gate at the road.
Whilst Tony and Michael walked the 3km back to pick up the car, Elizabeth and I were greeted by the chatty farmer who was out walking her 3 house dogs, which were very interested in our salami! We apologised for getting lost on her farm and learnt that we’d missed the hunters who had been up shooting pests on the farm that morning. We also learnt that the DoC campground became a campervan carpark for the Rugby World Cup. And for the next time I head to ‘Whekere’, I also learnt that the farmer had a wee hut up near the top of Range stream which could be used by trampers wanting access to Te Ao Whekere through her farm.
Once Tony and Michael arrived back in the car, we drove to a secluded campsite by the river that the farmer recommended. Tony was happy because this was an idyllic replacement campsite that was not likely to become a campervan carpark!
After 13 hours of tramping, four weary happy trampers washed in the river and enjoyed a sumptuous dehy’ and biscuit feast around a warming fire before finally rolling into bed at 11pm.
Our third day was spent sleeping in, indulging in café delights and a sunny flattish stroll amongst the seals at Kaikoura, before we drove back to Picton and the end of a thoroughly challenging and satisfying alpine adventure.