Monday, November 30, 2009


26 November, 2009
Late Afternoon
Oroua river flats
Ruahine range

I sit in the sun next to the river, the emerald pool deep and vivid, the song a gentle murmur as it gathers before the crescendo of the rapid below. I watch my friend Gustav above me on a mossy boulder tying a fly to his line, about to cast into the pool and lure a wily trout to do battle. The sight of my friend enjoying this river in the Ruahine brings a lump to my throat. We have a very short, but relevant, reunion here in this place we have traveled together many times now. Only this one afternoon and evening. We must leave in the morning as we have a Thanksgiving celebration and Tara's 40th birthday to prepare for. In this moment I am most Thankful to be here.

We walked into Heritage lodge, had a cup of tea, left our gear there, then walked the 45 minutes down here to the river. Gustav is roaming up and down the flats trout hunting. I am just enjoying the scene, gazing up further into the valley, Tunupo peak on the Ngamokos high above and the sun drenched golden tussock of the Whanahuias at the end of the valley. It is beautiful and while part me looks wistfully with wanderlust, the other part is content right here.

The boundary of the Ruahine with Tunupo peak and the Ngamoko range framing the Oroua valley.

Gustav photographing the sunlit beech leaves.

Above a creek on the way to Heritage lodge, a lovely stroll of less than an hour from the car park.

Gustav and I have been this way before. We came out via Triangle, Iron Gate and the old Heritage lodge back in 1998, the first multiple day trip I had done in the Ruahine at that point. A few years later he returned from the states and we did the first multiple day crossing of the ranges I ever did going via Top Maropea, Maropea Forks, Otukota, and out via the Mokai Patea where Nigel met us high in the mist with cold beers, the first person we had seen in 6 days. We spent one night of that trip camped on the Maropea in a one man bivvy as we ran into darkness and doubt. The next morning Gustav slipped on a rock slick with ice and broke his hand. It was only day 3 of a 6 day trip. That trip was a water shed moment for us both. For me, in realizing how much I loved this place and what it was doing to my soul, but how much I had to learn in order to travel safely here, understand conditions, and have the right gear. For Gustav, it was the whole direction of his life and what he was doing. Not long after he quit his job in San Francisco and moved to Tasmania where he still lives today.

Gustav returned again in winter 2005 and we went into the Maropea Forks area for another 4 day trip, a lovely one of full moon nights lighting up the surrounding snow covered hillsides in translucent purple light, and a raging snow storm witnessed from the warm and lovely confines of Maropea Forks hut, the Corker blazing and steak sizzling in the pan, wee dram in hand. We had learned a bit since the last trip.

So it has been almost five years since he has last interacted with the Ruahine, and indeed since I have last seen him. It is good to reconnect with old friends, to discover that even within the silence there is comfort and understanding and that at times there is no need for words. Judging by the contented smile on my friends face he understands that as well.

Above the Oroua river looking west.

A very likely spot for a nice brown or rainbow.

A man and the river.

A happy fisherman.

Gustav on the lovely veranda at Heritage lodge looking up the Oroua valley.

Joined by hut warden Jan.

The view from the veranda, in the far distance the Whanahuia range

26 November 2009
Heritage Lodge
Late evening

Really a perfect evening. One defining the meaning of friendship and Thanksgiving. We were joined on the early evening walk back up from the river by the hut warden, who was out deer hunting and fishing as well. Jan lives in the private quarters attached to the hut, and tends the hut and the trap lines put in for stoats and rats. He has a long relationship with the Tararuas in particular and is now in the Ruahine after a stint in Australia. He quickly noticed Gustav's high quality fly rod and they got into a animated conversation about trout and Jan set up Gustav with some gear to try in the morning. We had brought in a 6 pack of beer and a wee supply of fine whiskey and happily shared our bounty wth Jan, and the three of us sat on the veranda enjoying a beautiful evening, the colours delightful and alive, and the mood mellow and full of good cheer. Now the garlic and tarrogon enfused steak is ready to sizzle in the pan in the candle lit hut as the wood stove crackles. I think of the words of a Mose Allison song we listened to last evening.
"Mountain sheen, ocean shine
Miocene valentine
One such perfect moment
Never twice the same
Such a perfect moment
Will keep you in the game" - Perfect Moment, written by Mose Allison

The view from my bunk, the sun shining on the opposite face of the Oroua. Not a bad spot to wake up in.

A fine place for the first cup of tea of the morning.

From the hut to the river below.

27 November
Heritage Lodge

A stunning morning in the Ruahine. Brilliant blue sky, not a breath of wind, the far off Whanahuias glisten in the morning light. The lush green spurs running down into the valley perfect in their symmetry.

Gustav went down to the river early to get after some trout further upriver than yesterday - which Jan had spotted and showed us pictures of 3 hovering in the clear water. Gustav
indeed saw them but they were content and well fed, and just as they were not tempted by Jan they avoided Gustav's offerings as well. That is fishing. He did, however, spot a pair of whio that Jan had also seen and mentioned, and in my book that is by far a more successful result. They came to greet you and welcome you home Gustav!

I was content to linger here in the morning sun and enjoy the elixir of this day as long as I can. Just a wee taste of the mountains, and as I look up the valley again to the tops with longing eyes it is also fine to just sit here and linger in peace. Knowing what possibilities lie out there is enough for me in this moment.

A Happy belated Thanksgiving to one and all. Living in Aotearoa has made me appreciate the value of Thanksgiving even more. For no matter where we live we can find something to be Thankful for in our lives. Family, friends, and Wild Places to share.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Tangaroa (Endless Wealth)

1 November 2009
Makieke Stream
below Knights track on Ngamoko range

I was intending to walk up to the open tops of the Ngamoko and camp under the full moon and stars, then proceed to Leon Kingvig hut in the Pohangina valley in the morning. Having not been this way since 2005 I ignored the change to the track after crossing the creek. It used to amble for some distance climbing through farmland before entering the Ruahine. The bright orange markers heading up the steep spur I ignored, the now wired shut gate just beyond it I climbed over and proceeded to walk 45 minutes until I realized how stupid I had been. So I turned back and walked 45 minutes back to that steep spur and climbed it, arriving here 45 minutes later. It took me two and a half hours to walk what should have taken me less than an hour. When I arrived at this lovely little flat just before the truly steep work to the tops begins I threw off my pack, lie down in the sun, and choked back tears. I could go no further. My hip is done. I can no longer carry big loads deep into these mountains, and the added weight of my tent enough to make walking unbearable. I knew this day was coming, and it is here.

So instead of trying to get up top I pitched my tent here by the stream, and to the lullaby of water I crawled in and fell into a troubled sleep. I awoke in the late afternoon, gathered wood and built a little fire to sit by and ponder my future with this place I cannot imagine being without. I decided in the morning I will leave my camp and most of my gear here and somehow get up there. I need to do that one more time. I have put into place the schedule to have my right hip replaced in April of 2010. All going well it will be a long while between drinks of the sweet mountain nectar running beside me, and of course the very slight but real possibility the operation comes with complications and prevents my ever returning here has to be acknowledged. That thought fills me with uncertainty and even fear, and it is why I need to go up top one more time. I need to be there.

My campsite on Makieke stream (Coal Creek).

A little side stream which joins Makieke and rolls through the northern end of the flat. The climb up Knights track sidles alongside of the stream for a bit until steeply climbing away. The flat itself is by no means huge but certainly a cool place to roam and explore a bit, an excellent place to camp and one I can certainly get to with Charlie or Tara.

A lovely little spot in the Ruahine, a campsite of realizations.

A wee dram, mossy log to sit upon, looking northwest as the stream turns.

An interesting day, an emotionally moving afternoon in the Ruahine at a very elegant spot.

Early evening:

Sitting by the stream Listening to sounds of water, beautiful crystal clear pure mountain water. If there is a defining sound track to these mountains, for me, it is this Symphony, this soul soothing chorous which washes over me here in the moment when I most need to hear the Music. It is the comforting embrace of Mother Earth as she accepts my tears. I need this place far more than it needs my presence. Right now, with the looming prospect of never being here again close at my shoulder, I feel the closest to the very soul of these mountains as I have ever felt.

I have been blessed and honoured to have roamed in this place for over 16 years now. I have come to know the Ruahine fairly well, certain areas even intimately as is possible. In my heart and soul this is the most beautiful place on earth.

The forested spurs and ridges green, lush and steep, the golden tussock tops so brilliant to watch light play upon at sunrise, at sunset, at anytime really. The high ridge beech forest where the ever appealing but tenacious leatherwood emerges, on a lovely day with the gentle whisper of wind through the gnarly branches, the mosses and lichens pulsating and glowing, a place where Time takes on a different meaning. On a stormy day, in its own way, even more beautiful and a sign to beware ahead. It is the stormy days and nights here that are the ones where I learn the most. And of course, the mountain rivers and streams, each with their own unique and sublime presence and some of the places I love most of all in the myriad of possibility on offer. It is where the Whio sings.

In the world I can literally close my eyes and be here, Listen to this very sound. So I am never really far away from here. I have so many luxurious moments and memories of my interactions with these mountains, so the rich library I have accrued over the last 16 years, means that each day at some time I can simply reach inside me and recall, smell the woodsmoke upon me. I am Here. So should for some reason I never roam here again that is a sad and final thought, but one in this moment I can accept. I hope, of course, that is not the case, that within a year or so I am back here as good as new, but the possibility does exist. Perhaps it is just that this pain in my hip is also a reminder to breathe deep the fresh mountain air, to relish each sip of the cold clear water, to look sharply, deeply, and clearly at each detail with vivid clarity. To live this moment as if were my last. We should all live that way anyway. And if my last moment was to be here, I am okay with that.

Kaikawaka forest on Knights track. I always love the way trees of these forests seem to beseech the sky.

One of the rare relatively easy gradient patches on Knights track. It still is climbing but not as relentlessly so as in most stretches. As ever, the amazing tranquility of such spots in the forest reach out and stop in me in my tracks - and the opportunity to catch my breath as well.

If you accept it, there is so much energy flowing in these places.

2 November
Just below Tunupo peak
high on the Ngamoko range

Sitting in the tussock out of the blustery and cold wind. The tops just above me emerge for brief moments out of the swirling gathering cloud leaving only the creamy green flanks of the steep forest and the ribbons of brown slips below the grey veil. The sun pops out for brief periods and its warmth caresses me. When the golden tussock does reveal itself it takes on a rich golden lustre in the dimmed light.

I am overwhelmed to just be sitting here and part of it all. I have a little food, water, pen and paper and some extra warm gear. I could move up to Tunupo and get water at the tarns, even have a cup of tea or soup as I have brought my cooker and billy. But the gathering cloud and wind up there manage to keep that urge at bay. I am content to wait here and see. My little camp lies a few hours or so below me and I have all afternoon to return there.

My hip was still hurting but with much less weight and a few pills it was endurable. Never mind! I am here! Oh these rugged and wild tops! The tussock and leatherwood, the mosses and plants that cling to existence in this rugged sub alpine environment. I am seeing it all.

Looking north along the Ngamoko range, the tops cloud hidden.

Up towards Tunupo just starting to emerge out of the forest.

If you sit there long enough eventually a view will open up for brief moments. North again with the Whanahuia range on left, and the main Ruahine in the centre.

West towards the Rangitikei plains far below.

The little sheltered area I sat within teemed with sub alpine life, rich and lush and colourful, fragile yet capable of thriving in this unforgiving environment.

I am not sure what this mossy plant was or if I have ever encountered it before, but it was soft and silky and about a foot deep on a protected side of a boulder.

Symmetry, colour, Natures Gift. There was enough life and beauty in this small little area to keep me occupied for days.

Twisted and gnarled Kaikawaka with a large burl. The burl was completely soft and spongy.

A place I just had to stop and linger.

Back down to the stream and camp.

2 November
Early evening

I took my time dropping back down through the forest stopping often to just pause and absorb the energy, to gaze upon the glowing splendour of the mosses and lichens as they greeted me and encouraged me to rest from my toils. It was a timeless day and walk, and encouraging that without the weight on my back I was able to connect with the high country.

Still as I sit here now by the river tending my little camp fire and ponder a future possibly without these moments I am filled with emotion once again. That I was fortunate enough at all to roam here warms my soul, the memories I have will never leave me, and in a way I am part of this place, these mountains. Just knowing this place is here, and others like it, or even more remote, more wild, with towering snow covered peaks, and raging angry rivers, that stir the souls of others as this place stirs mine. But none, to me, more beautiful. We need these places to simply be here.

The wind has changed to a quiet southerly and it has begun to mist as the night time chill of the mountain evening settles in. My camp is tidy and buttoned up. The rain splatters and hisses on the fire. John Muir once wrote, "never hurry through the rain" and I am not quite ready to say goodbye to this day. I think I will just sit here for awhile.

This particular dead Kaikawaka just stopped me in my tracks. It encapsulated my own feelings on a personal level dealing with my hip and concerns about my future interactions here, and also how the very soul of the mountains, of this wild place seems to be looking up and beseeching as to why we would want to alter them, attack them, abuse them for our short term financial benefit. Yet as this mountain wiarua or spirit pleads to the heavens, it's left hand raises a distinct and defiant message to the skies and the folly of man. In the end Nature will be supreme. So to Gerry Brownlee and all the corporate greedy money grubbing bastards, the right wing human centric plunderers, LEAVE IT ALONE!! May the wrath of nature spite you down should you lay one greedy finger upon it.
Rave on!
Kia kaha!