Rautupu - Fight Back

Just a note of thanks, kia ora, to all of those who might read this for your support and for your taking the time to consider the Ruahines, and indeed other ranges here and all over the world. This has been an interesting experience, a fairly draining one to be honest as I have many other aspects happening in my life. My new friend Robin warned me privately to beware of taking this on, and at the time I didn't quite grasp what she meant. I do now Robin, and your wise words held me in good stead.

I am not sure what we have accomplished, probably not a whole lot. I can't imagine the Tararua Local District Council quaking in their boots when I present them with a petition signed by 120 people from around the world. And I suspect a few sly grins and eye rolls from suited corporate lawyers all too familiar with the likes of me. I hope the passion and determination I carry in my voice with your spirits behind me make them LISTEN!!

Yet at least the echoes of our voices will carry. This tiny ripple on the Ocean of Life has possibility. I have found a voice through this process and I will carry on the rautupu, fight back, as best I can. I hope most of that simply involves roaming the Ruahines and sharing those experiences with those whom enjoy stopping by my place here. Probably not, yet as my friend from Bloggenplucky, linked at bottom below page, so wisely pointed out from Ed Abbey himself writing of how we need to be radical and fanatic, but only half so. The other half we need to devote ourselves to actually enjoying it, Life, Nature, Music, Poetry, Art, Family, Friends.

"Climb those mountains, run those rivers, explore those forests, investigate those deserts, love the sun and moon and the stars and we will outlive our enemies, we will piss on their graves, and we will love and nurture, and who knows? - even marry their children. Who's in charge here? We're all in charge, every man has his own guru, every woman has her own gurette..... Down with the Empire! Up with Spring! We stand For what we stand On! I thank you, partners."

I have only lived in here in Aotearoa for a short time, 16 plus years now. I am a relative waewae tapu, newcomer, to this beautiful, yet under threat, land. Though when I am in the Ruahines I feel a deep and ancient connection I cannot explain, I can only share. So kia ora for reading, and more so for participating in trying to help them. We will create Awareness, one way or the other.

A special kia ora, and with much aroha to Ophelia Rising and Robin Easton. You two brought so much passion, caring, and inspiration to this, and even more importantly, to me. My voice is tired, yet I carried on thinking of you both. Kia kaha! Also to a few lovely people whom plugged this project on their blogs. Paterika, your beautiful rendition of the poem I still have not figured out how to get on "live", but I will! VJ, aroha and thank you for caring, and for writing one of my favourite blogs. D'Arcy, you rock! You are all amazing. I will never forget. All these lovely people are linked below.

Kia ora my friends! My next offering will be from the Ruahines, and I need to Connect. They are not going anywhere soon! Aroha.

Stop the Madness

For those whom have read my prior post there is a link here to a petition to register protest against changing the wording of the Environmental Heritage Policy of the Tararua District Council proposed by the four power companies which would allow unhindered implementation of wind turbines and wind farms as discussed in the prior post. Please follow the link to the petition and register should you agree this wanton abuse of our natural world needs to cease, or at least opened to reasoned debate and not under handed bully boy tactics used by power companies for pure money and tax benefit generation at the expense of our environment. Objections to the submissions need to be registered by 3 October, not much time, so please act now.

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/ruahines-threatened-stop-the-destruction

I would like to acknowledge and thank from the deepest depths of my heart and soul Robin Easton and Ophelia Rising for their time, effort, patience, and love, in putting this all together and inspiring me to action. What ever happens will happen, but the kindred spirit I have found with these beautiful people has been one the finest experiences of my life. You have helped me find new depths to my Mana heke Iho, and I treasure you both. Kia kaha!

Rangimarie,

Robb

Storm Clouds Gathering

Excerpt from the Manawatu Evening Standard, 5 September, 2008

Article entitled: Push to end protection of ranges.

" Energy companies are pushing the Tararua District Council to loosen the rules on wind farm consents, making it easier to build on the ranges.

Genesis Energy, Trustpower, Meridian Energy, and Might River Power have all made separate submissions to the Tararua council, currently up for review. They are campaigning for new policies to make wind farms a priority in the district, and pushing for a slackening of the present guidelines. In the current policy on environmental heritage, the skyline of the ranges in the district is considered a protected natural feature. Trustpower wants this wording cut, with references to the protection of the "skyline of Tararua Ranges, Ruahine Ranges, Puketoi Ranges, and the Manawatu Gorge", deleted from the plan entirely. Genesis wants the council to recognize the importance of developing the wind resource in the district. It also wants a new policy allowing for coastal wind farms. And the Energy Efficient and Conservation Authority, an independent government advisory body, is lobbying for council to accept the necessity of wind farms in rural areas". "Tararua mayor Maureen Reynolds said wind energy has become a big issue in the Tararua since the last district plan review, 10 years ago. The district plan, a blue print for the district's future, is reviewed only once every 10 years. Summaries of the plan submissions can be viewed online at http://www.tararuadc.govt.nz/. Objections to any submissions can be made until 3 October".

Imagine the scene behind John in this photo, the steep and high peaks of the Mokai Patea , covered in windmills from end to end. This very well could be the reality of the Ruahine ranges and its future. I never set out or envisioned this blog to addressing issues such as religion or politics, or the environment, but the real truth is when we share ourselves in this format, when we really write from our hearts and souls, we do that anyway. If we are honest we expose who we really are in our beliefs and values.

I have been neither pro or anti wind generation. I have spent more time today reading up on the issue from all points of view and like anything there are pros and cons with issue of wind power in and of itself. What I am against is having big money energy companies ramming policy down the throats of citizens through fairly back door changes to policy regarding their implementation. A district that reviews its policy every 10 years and the citizenry is made aware of potential drastic changes to that policy and given less than 4 weeks to respond? How long ago have these monopolistic companies put forth these proposals and why separately? More chances to succeed I suppose. And just who is the Energy and Efficiency and Conservation Authority funded by? A very heady name for a "lobby" group wanting to deconstruct current policy CONSERVING the ranges.

This is more about money and economics than it is about altruistic reasoning for ad vocation of wind farms. Jobs are created to build the things, roads have to be built and supplied, land has to be leased, and our insatiable need for power grows and grows. This is just progress.

Yet wind power as an answer still falls short of supplying more and more power. The amount of wind mills needed, for instance, to supply power for 600 homes would equate to more than one wind mill per home! And there are issues with wind power as a truly reliable and efficient source of supply. " For starters, wind power is very unreliable. The turbines that produce the electricity work only when the wind is blowing within a specific, narrow range of speed. In its down time the system has to convert to conventional sources, and the switching between wind and conventional power requires an even greater output of energy just to make the conversion". Taken from the Heartland Institute article, Picken's Windy Scheme Will Leave Taxpayers Holding the Bag, written and published August 2008.

In addition are the vast amounts of land required not just for the wind turbine itself, but the grading necessary around each one to prepare for its installation, the roads required, vast power lines, substations, turbines and laydown areas. It simply is not the clean and green solution our friendly power companies would have us believe.

Let me write from my heart. I love the Ruahine ranges. The mere fact they are there makes my soul fill with joy. I wonder how many people actually drive down from Hawkes Bay to Palmerston North, or from Taupo down on the western side, and, on a fine day, really see them. Now as spring only begins to unfold, snow covered majestic and stunning, or more often far off blueish peaks rugged and sharp on and on into the distance. I wonder if the people of the Taraura, the farmers, the citizens of its lovely towns, those who live in back blocks, the truckers who drive the highways and back roads day after day, I wonder how often they might glance at the ranges, even if for a brief second, and appreciate the freedom and wildness and beauty before them. What price do we put on that view? When do we as people stop raping this planet and start actually asking how can we live with less? I know the absurdity of that question even as I write it.

As for me, I perhaps have finally found my cause, my fight, my reason to do what I can to preserve the Mana Heke Iho, Inherent Dignity, of the Ruahine Ranges. They have given me more than I can express in words, they have opened to me a World where my soul found peace, they have restored my own mana heke iho. Now they need me, they need my voice, and yours as well. I can no more turn my back upon them as I could my own child or friend in need.

I apologize in advance for taking this to a place I never intended, and I hope that you lovely people who normally visit here do not roll your eyes and disappear. I will be making an objection to these submissions and would appreciate any feed back or opinions you have in helping me write that objection.

" If wilderness is our true home, and if it is threatened with invasion, pillage, and destruction - as it certainly is - then we have a right to defend that home, as we would our private quarters, by whatever means necessary... Eco-defense means fighting back.....Spread the word". Edward Abbey.

Hut Days, Thoughts on Gear, Vicarious Longing

I was suppose to leave on a two night solo foray into the Oroua head waters and Triangle hut this afternoon. A late afternoon jaunt up to Rangiwahia hut for the night, then carry onto Triangle early Saturday morning. The stars seemed lined up, a near perfect weather forecast, excellent timing with our busy schedules, and a strong calling I have been feeling from this area I have not seen in almost two years now. Two things happened since Tuesday when I sat gazing at my pack loaded and ready to roll. The first is Charlie had been sick with a very chesty cold, and sure enough it exploded in me, and I am coughing and hacking and feeling rather crook. Tara would call it the Man Flu. And secondly a man I know died in a truck accident Tuesday afternoon. He was one of the first people I met when I moved here and began working in the trucking industry - a real adult portion of a way to cut one's teeth in a new and unfamiliar land. Let's just write I paid my dues. Ben, the man who was killed, was one of the managers of the firm. He made a point of coming over and talking to me each and every day as I made my way through this testing time. I will never forget that little act of kindness. I since came to know his sons as well and though I do not see them often, it is always with joy that I do. Ben was Maori, and held much mana, or esteem, within his tribe. His tangi, or funeral, is being held this weekend, and I think it more important I be there to pay my respects to someone who treated me with respect and simple kindness.

So the mountains will have to wait. As much as I long to be amongst them, and in terms of time I will be soon enough. And they really never leave me anyway, I just close my eyes and there they are......

Hut Days : One of the finest aspects of my interactions with the Ruahines was discovering and implementing into my trips hut days, or simply days spent at a place doing everything and nothing. When I first started traveling in this beautiful and rugged place I was in a frantic rush to see as much as possible, traveling long and hard each day, spending a relatively few hours at these amazing spots, sleeping, then packing up and moving on. It began to occur to me that perhaps I should slow down a bit, particularly when Nigel moved away and I was forced to begin my period of solo tramps. I recall waking up one morning at Maropea Forks and realizing for the first time I was staying there for this entire day and night, I walked out onto the porch of the hut, the river sleepily rolling by, and just being filled with joy and euphoric harmony and I knew this was the path for me to be on. What to do on a day with absolutely no restrictions, time is meaningless except for light and dark. Some are daunted by that, bored without those worldly constraints of being productive and efficient. Not me. And what is productive anyway? Is it being able to climb a ridge to open tops with only a small pack, or walk up an unexplored creek or river, create karma for the hut by cleaning and chopping wood, writing in my notebook, reading Walt Whitman, having another cup of tea, or just sitting in some quiet spot and absorbing the energy of all this life around me?

"Hut Day at Top Maropea"

Firewood chopped, sawed, stacked nice and neat

Warm dry socks upon my feet

What to do now - well let's see

I've had another few cups of tea

Checked all the straps on pack and gear

Kept myself full of good cheer

I've had a nap

took a crap

checked all the places on my map

We may think this is a realm of man's

Though the Ruahines care not

for my insignificant plans

In fact they do not give a damn

So I guess I'll just pour myself

a wee small dram

and raise a toast

To the next time I see ya

It has been a lovely day

hut bound here at Top Maropea

Written 31 September 2005. Hut bound and forced to stay an extra day and night due to inclement weather. A crude attempt at rhyming prose I know, but hey, with the wind howling over, and rain beating down on the tin roof, it sounded pretty good in that moment.

Gear: Above is my favourite photo of my pack. It was taken in a part of the forest on the spur that leads from Upper Makaroro to Parks Peak ridge. A relatively flat enjoyable stretch of an otherwise grueling climb. These beeches and forest literally pulsate with energy, and one thing that always amazes me about Ruahine forest is the very symmetrical pattern to the big trees, look how they line up to make the best use of the sun, of the meagre soil depth, each one unique and solid. So I stopped and took a photo, forgetting my pack was even there. It is a Mac Pac, at that time a New Zealand made product, made here and for, the interesting conditions our mountains present. All four seasons in one day would be an apt description. A model long since made redundant, it was the first pack I ever purchased in the modern era of "harness systems" and I paid top dollar for it. We became fine traveling companions over the last 11 years. It has carried for me many heavy loads and I in turn for it carried those loads upon my back. An even trade. The Ruahines are not kind to gear, even when the gear is cared for properly. I have gone through four pairs of boots, my poles are bent and one locked into place, my 10 year old Reflex rain jacket has a few spots rubbing through, and I won't even get into the state of my thermals and socks. I never even noticed until my last winter trip with John. My threadbare thermals seemed fine, my old gaiters still work, but all the sudden after a brief rest on Parks Peak ridge and I shouldered my old friend the Mac Pac, the whole side of the shoulder strap I always pick it up from tore loose. Not good. Thanks to the straps Nigel provided years ago to lash my Camel Bak to the pack I was able to improvise a repair and carry on for the next 4 days, but I knew this was a significant moment. The end had come.

So I have new bought a new back. Something called a Deuter with an "Air Contact Harness System". Pretty flash sounding. I felt no loyalty towards any New Zealand product as they are all now made off shore, as are most of the worlds packs these days. So I bought the most comfortable pack I found, one with a bit more space, and one that felt reasonably comfortable on my hip. Still, no way to tell until I get a few trips under my belt. And just as I felt a bit guilty about staying in the new Parks Peak hut, I find myself feeling the same about looking at my new loaded shiny pack sitting here waiting. I am sure we will become good mates in due course, but saying good bye to my old Mac Pac is also a representation of my own time moving on in the hills. We climbed many a ridge, traversed many rivers, sometimes muddy and angry, sometimes calm and serene, we endured storms and sun lit days amongst the golden tussock, I sat with you during moments of doubt and indecision, and sometimes just to enjoy the moment. You were a good friend. I toast to your endurance and loyalty. Rangimarie and Aroha. Travel safely.

Ode to Parks Peak Ridge

The recent journey along Parks Peak ridge is still fresh in my mind. I can still hear the wind rustled beech leaves, the crunch of my boots through the deep snow, I can picture easily in my mind the stunning beauty of the forest, the occasional far off view of the main range across the valley as it emerges from the cloud through the swirling storm (such as in above photo), the smell of wood smoke still seems to waft in the air. I want to go back.


A comment left on my last post by Tom S. really made me realize how fortunate I am to have this mountain range, the Ruahine, as my backyard. Tom has traveled this area many times, indeed his name appears still in the hut books, though he now lives in England. It is good to connect with those who understand, yet may be far away. So Tom, this one is for you, an ode to Parks Peak ridge and the Makaroro valley. It is there waiting for you, and in the meantime I am honoured to keep you connected. Kia ora brother!















Above are all photos from various trips along the ridge, from my first in 2000 till now. The ridge has changed little, I have changed greatly. The first photo is from a solo trip in winter in which it took me nearly 7 hours to get to the old orange hut, plugging steps, getting huge slabs of snow dropped on me from the trees, arriving at the hut tired and freezing. Never has a hut, even that old one, ever looked so good. The second is Taylor and I on the ridge perhaps a few hours from the hut. I recall the day before we walked to it in sleet and snow, then this day summery and fine. He was 8. Not many 8 year old children have been to Parks Peak. I need to reconnect with my oldest son out here, though now 15 the thought of 3-4 days in the mountains with his old man not the most pleasant of thoughts for him I suppose.

The third shot is Parks Peak ridge in the distance, or part of it as it actually carries on for 20 kilometres or so to meet Gold Crown ridge. This was taken from across Makaroro valley and the main range at the top of Totara spur. I love this one, as it contrasts the greenness of the lower ridge with the golden tussock tops at a higher elevation, as well as showing the mountain tarn in front. This whole area of the main range is dotted with these tarns, ranging in size from a bathtub to small lakes. Great for thirsty trampers to replenish empty water bottles from, or on a fine day just sit by and relax, boil up the billy and appreciate the moment being in such places.

Next we have a shot from my recent trip of the snow covered beeches on the track just outside the hut. Notice the branches drooping over, covered with snow ready to dump on taller unsuspecting trampers. Those beeches also serve to protect from howling gales and allow travel along the ridge in pretty much any weather.

Last in this series is John with map and compass just down from the hut looking across at the main range. This was from a summer trip a few years ago, and the first time John had been in this area for over thirty years and some of his first tramps. The connections to this place are deep.

Part II : Memories of the old Parks Peak hut.

3 June, 2000 4:50pm

It is raining and cold outside, it began to sleet as we trudged along and up this seemingly endless ridge. Here for the first time with Nigel, and our Irish friend Jeremy down from Auckland on his first ever New Zealand tramp. It took us 5 hours 30 minutes after crossing the river, and it is a very good haul to this hut which we were all glad to see appear out of the mist. Jeremy has spent two hours with a very wet and meagre supply of wood and a very temperamental Corker stove and to his credit we are now in a warm hut. We have marinated steak, garlic, mushrooms and blanched tomatoes for tea, and Nigel has carried in a steamed pudding and fresh cream and extra gas to steam it. Yum! I hope Jeremy was able to get beyond the hard labour and enjoy this marvelous ridge, certainly unique from any I have traversed thus far in these ranges. Nigel and I are starting to get a few under our belts now, and I feel this place and beyond calling strongly to me. A great day, turning into a great evening, these mountains just amaze me.

7 July, 2001 5:45pm

Parks Peak hut

Robb Kloss

Nigel Robson

Taylor Kloss

A long walk for a little boy of 8 years to arrive here. I am so proud of Taylor my eyes well up and my heart bursts thinking about his efforts today. He is wandering outside with Nigel in this beautiful and mysterious high ridge beech forest that surrounds us. After an 8 hour walk he arrived here nearly in tears, and there were a few along the way, as well as a lot of laughs and his incessant chatter to Nigel. Getting into warm dry gear, and some hot soup, cocoa and chocolate he was a new man with new found energy wanting to explore the area a bit. It is a long way, and I thought I may have misjudged things a bit, particularly when it started to snow. I had to give him a few cuddles along the way, but his feet got him here, and he deserves all the credit. Thank you Nigel, your presence in Taylor's life, and mine, is a great gift. The smile on Taylor's face when he saw that orange roof of the hut will stay with me always.

6 Feb. 2003 Parks Peak hut

Robb Kloss

Taylor Kloss

Jacob Burn

Here on a 3 night trip with Taylor and Jake. A long hot walk today, and we ran out of water about an hour before the hut, which of course immediately made the boys very thirsty. I found a bit in the roots of a beech tree and even squeezed a bit from some moss to quench their thirsts. I should have put a damper on their early and frequent attacks on the water bottles, and carrying 4 litres myself, plus each their own thought ample supply. I did not think it would be so unrelentingly hot even high up, not a cloud in the sky and the sun blazing down. Beautiful, but perhaps not the best conditions for that long steep ridge and two 9 year old boys. Yet here we are. How cool to attack that old water tank, despite the heat, still fresh and cold and immediately made everything better. Simple pleasures, a very good lesson. Different dynamics with two boys, rather than just Taylor, or even just myself. Worrying about my own thirst, for instance, is one thing, worrying about the thirsts of two boys under my charge a whole other concept. Still, it has to be good to get them out here, out of their comfort zones and inactivity of life at home in most regards. I can't expect them to understand my reasons for connecting to this place, these ranges, and what I take from here, yet I hope they might at some stage get a small whiff of understanding that might emerge even years later. I must write that in spite of the pull up here, the ever climbing ridge, that this is becoming one of my favourite Ruahine places. It is so unique and beautiful, and the views on a day like today are simply stunning. I am excited to push beyond here in the morning to Upper Makaroro, another new place to be revealed.

"Stormy Walk on Parks Peak Ridge"

The ridge played no gentle songs

to greet me on this day

No blue skies above

to offer a blissful welcome

The forest booming a crescendo

of wind and the kettle drum gales

waiting their turn to accentuate the rhythm

A symphony of wet greens and greyness

dripping slowly her tears upon me

I accepted her terms

and in turn saw beauty revealed

I Listened

tasted her moods

observed and absorbed all around me
and in turn was touched

to my very soul

written at Parks Peak 15 April 2005

Part III : The Smaller World at Parks Peak

Parks Peak hut 15 April 2005

Solo

It is the roar, the stags roar in the creek heads. Coming through the mist it sounds lonely and frantic, adding to the remote solitude of this ridge. As I climbed through the melting ice and snow I saw the foot steps, I know at this time of year there might very well be hunters at the hut. Yet this time of year calls to me as well, even if I do not shoot animals anymore. Those roars of mating hungry stags still stir me.

Imagine my surprise to arrive at Parks Peak hut to find it in complete disarray. So much a mess I could not initially determine how many were staying there except by counting the number of sleeping bags. The prospect of a night here was pretty dim indeed. Yet I was too tired and had been in the saddle too long to care. I brewed some chicken soup and coffee, and feeling much better I retired outside to the lovely garden and contemplated my position with a wee dram. I really needed to accept my reality and make the best of it. That included sleeping outside in my bivvy bag. Though a night outside at Parks Peak in April would be very cold indeed. I decided to have another wee dram. Then the hunters arrive, Allister and Peter, whom are very apologetic about the state of the hut, and for three days had shared its humble confines with 3 other hunters who had been choppered in with apparently everything but the proverbial kitchen sink. They had flown out that morning. Allister has in tow the finest 10 point stag head I have seen in the Ruahines, and imagine my surprise when they not only began to clean up the hut, but pack their gear up as well. They were leaving now in the growing dusk, heading down the ridge north to Sentry Box hut then out to their car. Who am I to argue? I helped them shoulder their meat laden loads with a 10 point head on top of Allister's pack and watched them head to the track.

I thought I was dreaming. To go from that to this, was almost too much. How my prospects have changed! I have the solitude I sought . I have a fire in this shitty little Corker and I am warm inside and out. This place is wonderful. Now the night time sky reveals hidden stars and I relish in my wealth. I recall some lines from Wordsworth, a long ago English literature class taken at Ripon college, maybe I did learn something after all.


"Calm is the fragrant air, and loth to lose

Days grateful warmth, tho moist with

falling dews

Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none

Look up a second time, and, one by one

You mark them twinkling out with silvery light

And wonder

How could they elude the sight"

William Wordsworth

Photos 1 and 2 : The beech forest in summer. The lichens and mosses, or what ever they are, stun the senses.

Photos 3 and 4 : The same mosses and such this past snow storm. In spite of their seeming fragility they know hard times and how to survive.

Photo 5 : Leatherwood and Beech just outside the hut. Leather wood, or Tupare, is a diabolical sub alpine native shrub or tree when in abundance and trying to find a way through, but so beautiful and so resilient.

Photo 6. The contrasting summer garden just outside the hut.

Rangimarie

Aroha

Pouriuri Paemaunga - Moody Mountain Range

John and I had just put on our boots after crossing the freezing but clear Makaroro river in our teva sandals, the reason for this is once the river is crossed there are no more streams or creeks on the high ridge we were about to traverse thus reasonably dry feet are the hope, though rarely the result. As we started up the forest road we were just outside the Ruahine boundary when the sun came out and before us the above rainbow. We took it as perhaps a powhiri, or welcome, from the Ruahine herself. I will confess here my slight trepidation at our change of plans, a far longer walk on the first day with a heavy pack than I had planned, and the weather blowing a gale, a cold nor'west wind changing to an even colder southerly - and far worse yet to come! Yet as we walked down that road both John and I knew we had made the correct decision, that the saddle across to Top Maropea would be uncrossable this day and perhaps many to come, the wind howling overhead told us that, and the clouds billowing past us rapidly confirmed it. So we chose instead to delay our departure till morning and head up Parks Peak ridge and the Makaroro valley. Mainly as it offers a more protected route from the gales and is only really exposed in a few spots in spite of climbing to over 1350 metres. Plus my young friend Phillip from the Hell Mission Tramping Club - see link below - had sent me a photo of a brand new hut at Parks Peak replacing the old freezing cold one I had come to know so well. So a 5 to 6 hour walk up that steep ridge with a heavy pack in cold windy weather made me swallow hard a few times. Then for this brief moment we seem welcomed and encouraged to enter and experience her wintry charms.






The first photo above is looking back down Parks Peak ridge and down into Makaroro valley and the second one across the valley to the main Ruahine range and the very prominent and steep Totara ridge. This is very rugged country and once the ridge to Parks Peak is gained it is a steady climb undulating along the ridge for a long while. In my case, this being my ninth trip along it, anywhere from the car from 5 to as many as 8 hours when with Taylor. A long day in the saddle by any measure and always glad to see the little hut appear. Though the little hut is now gone, replaced by the new modern one in the above photo. New wood stove, insulated walls, double glazed windows, front porch, even a sink connected to the water tank! The old hut is pictured below. It was a 4 bunk old original forest service hut, no insulation, a very cranky wood stove, damp, yet a place I loved and returned to many times. I felt a bit guilty settling into this flash new place, and John and I both came to the conclusion that what it lacked was ambiance, it almost smelled new. I am probably being picky but there was not so much as an old tea towel or billy, or candle wax dripped onto the cooking bench, and combined with my wounded feelings of loyalty to the old hut I felt a bit out of place. I also wondered what the real reason the Department of Conservation built this hut for, mainly being as a relatively cheap way for the control of the growing deer population. Once the choppers start dropping off parties here to stay and hunt for days at a time the hut will get some "ambiance" very quickly. My biggest concern there will be what people will use for fuel for the wood stove. It is located in an area not conducive to a readily large supply of good wood, it is high up and the area generally very boggy and damp. I guess a bit of collateral damage to native bush is acceptable. Well, that battle has to be saved for another day. Strolling around the area and enjoying the tupare - leatherwood and moss covered tawhairauriki - mountain beech - I felt welcomed as if by old friends and the joy of being amongst them, in this special place, to simply relish that was enough for this moment. My voice can speak for them later.



"Ruahine Forest Walk"

The high Ruahine forest
pulsates with energy
I feel it flow into me
filling me with calm and joy
the sunlight a rare presence today
at times filtering through and highlighting
the myriad
shades of green
the mosses before me
glow luminescent
the lichens brilliant in their
fluorescent shine
the ferns a more muted contrast
yet no less significant
pale beech leaves flutter
in the wind
These Enormous Sentinels of the Mountains
allowing brief glimpses through the forest window
twisted branches framing the views
of far off dark rich green ridges and golden tops
they seem to call out to me
I feel as if they greet me as I walk by
Reassuring my soul
and the hard reasons
I return to this place
hold true

written 24 July at Upper Makaroro














25 July 7:10 am
Upper Makaroro hut

It is minus 4 degrees Celsius outside, and most likely here in the hut as well. Though very cold the winds seemed to have died down and the valley is calm.

John is sleeping soundly, tightly wrapped in his down cocoon, as was I until a few minutes ago. This is a standard old cullers hut, 4 bunks and not insulated, meaning when the wood fire dies down the heat quickly dissipates. It pays to have a good sleeping bag in the winter.
The steam rolls off my breath as I write this, waiting for the billy to boil for a strong cup of coffee.

What to do today? The luxury of a hut day lies before us. Meaning we can do as much or as little as we wish. We could climb back up to the other side of the valley via Totara spur and the main Ruahine range, but I feel a bit sore from two days winter exertions and I KNOW it will be cold up there. We could walk up river towards the head of the Makaroro river. Most likely we will attack the huge pile of beech outside the hut and render it to use able firewood, and John spotted another pile down by the river he had his eye upon. Many people drag wood up to the hut, but with a normally old and dull hut axe it is a much harder prospect to turn it into wood that will fit the firebox. We have learned to carry a small pruning type saw that will deal to the lot quite efficiently, though still hard work. It is very satisfying to look at the wood boxes full and ready to use. Create some karma.

Inside me I feel the urge to walk down river towards Barlow hut and see if I can spot any Whio. I have seen them here before and it has been some time since I have been blessed by their presence. I miss them. There are some large pools an hour or so down river and I can easily amble down to that point and turn back. That water will be cold though!

The Ruahine world today is our oyster. I want to relish and enjoy each second with joy and love, and wonderment in my heart and soul. For all too quickly this day shall pass like the winter sun over this narrow valley.



















July 25th 6:45 pm
Upper Makaroro hut

Darkness comes early to this valley in winter. John and I are in the now warm hut. Our dinner of fresh cauliflower, broccoli, and green beans simmered in satay sauce with rice will soon be served. We enjoyed a cocktail hour down by the river, a few wee drams of Glen Morangie scotch. Just enough to put another notch in our smiles, another level to our glow. What a day this has been. The wood bins are full, the hut contains enough for our use and the next party or two. The bins enough to last for several months. Always leave more than you use being the proper bush mantra. John dragged up even more dead beech from the river flats and his efforts today were sterling.
After our first burst at the wood supply and morning tea I left on a solo walk down river. At every turn, in every pool I kept a sharp eye peeled for any sign of Whio, walking slowly and deliberately and enjoying the freedom of no heavy pack to haul. Alas, I saw none, so I have to console myself that by all accounts in the hut book the possibility remains they are there.

Though aside from my mate Phillip no one else has been through here for three months. This is surely still a place of great solitude. So as the energy from the forest yesterday fluttered down upon me like falling leaves, today the symphony of the river, its breath taking beauty, the focus I must bring to a river walk, sent its energy washing through me, cleansing, nourishing and restoring my mana heke iho.

And though I felt very much alone and grateful on my walk, how cool to turn the final bend of the icy river before the hut and have my nostrils filled with lovely aroma of wood smoke, to see a wisp of the fresh fire emerging from the chimney, to know a friend awaits inside with a billy of tea. These are moments of truly living simply and in possession of real wealth.











26 July 5:27pm
Parks Peak hut

Here we are at Parks Peak once again. Suddenly, after a nights stay previously, this hut HAS taken on some ambiance after all. Particularly when ensconced in the warm glow of its stove in the midst of a driving snow storm. I hesitate to name it a blizzard, as I am a Wisconsin boy, but here in Aotearoa, aside from the mountains, we are devoid of snow, though winters are very cold. Even in the mountains the forests remain green all year here, yet it still can snow at anytime in the mountains. The contrast between the white and green is fairly stunning and the visual effect is beyond words I can express, or my meagre cameras ability to capture.

That old hut was cool and I do miss it. I fear the solitude of this part of the ranges will certainly suffer as this place, and the growing deer population, therefore hunters and choppers, return. This is not my place, no man owns any mountain, but I have spent as much time here as well, Parks Peak, as anyone over the last 10 years certainly. It is very hard work to arrive at this place, at least 4 plus hours, and even many days - depending on your direction - if one is walking with the gear they need upon their backs. In a helicopter it could take 10 minutes.

No choppers will be landing here this evening. It is a a big storm, at least 6-8 inches of snow thus far, in a little more than 4 hours of heavy fall. I left Upper Makaroro on my own around 11am this morning. About 45 minutes climbing so very steeply out of this valley the steady mist and drizzle it began to rain in earnest, and within minutes snow lightly. I was laughing, yet still grimacing at the relentless pull upward, as I climbed the snow got heavier and steadier, no wind, no cold, just me climbing slowly through the snow. I arrived at the hut, the water tank had frozen, it was cold, and crawled into my bag and fell asleep. I woke a few hours later to a winter wonderland, got the stove stoked up, the billy on, and almost on cue came John around the corner looking like a snowman. It is still snowing.

This hut now is lit by candles, we have a line strung up holding our smelly polys, gloves, hats, and anything we can get near the fire to dry. There is wax on the bench now, a dirty tea towel hangs on the line, a billy of snow melts on the stove, and we are happy to be here out of the unpleasant conditions. We have now created ambiance at Parks Peak.






Conditions could still be described as unpleasant on the 27th of July 2008. Yet we made our way down the icy and slippery ridge. As I made my way down I began to consider the snow up high would be even more intense rain below. I could hear the Makaroro roaring as I came down upon it. It was muddy and angry. I found John on one of the braided islands, having ventured into the main stream at various points very unsuccessfully. We wandered down river, my car in view, and found a corner with a nice wash out. I told John to follow me, and set off. I finished a long way down river from where I set off. So did John. We stood there amazed, our final test passed.
Kia ora Ruahines once again. Your beauty, your inspiration, your impact, is beyond compare. Kia ora John. We have traveled together now in this place for many years. No words need to be written. You are a huge man.
To Tara, oh my. Cheers for accepting this part of me.
Aroha