Tripped, Tangled and Turtled On The West Coast

Area: Haast / West Coast

Map: NZMS 260 - F37 (Haast),
OTMC Reference Material:
Guide Book etc: ?
Originally Published: OTMC Bulletin 631, July 2003
Date: June 2003
Notes: Suitable all year round.

 

Tripped, Tangled and Turtled On The West Coast by Paul Van Kampen

CRASH the large log broke under my feet; SNAP the branch I held onto broke too, ohhhh Noooo. Backwards I fell feeling some negative Gs. Fortunately I landed on my pack deep into bushes. HA, he's Turtled himself exclaimed Rob. With my feet and hands facing skyward I could do little to get up, I couldn't even roll side to side. Finally after some ribbing Bruce gave me a hand up, thanks for asking guys, no I didn't hurt myself! Lesson learnt, always hold onto something with leaves!

Everyone asked the same question, why do you want to climb up Mt Marks? The simple answer was that I could see signs of a premo campsite. Finally I had timed a camping trip with a full moon. We watched the golden globe rise out of the ocean from Tony's house before we left Dunedin. By llpm we had enjoyed moonlit views on our travel to Pleasant Flat. Before bedding down on the concrete floor of the shelter I breathed in the view of Mt Hooker on a frosty night. The moon like a spotlight shone on my face in spite of the power crisis as I slept.

The early morning sun broke up thin valley mist as we drove out to Haast. An icy wind blew cold mountain air down the Haast valley out over the ocean. We quickly donned packs following a 4WD track into the bush, which led to a rock quarry. Finally after much deliberation we went bush but where are Matt and James? We've lost them already! After a surprise visit by a Morepork we went back out to find Matt and James chatting to a DoC contractor and his dog who were waiting for a helicopter. Earlier we spotted his 4WD parked beside a log puller and steel cables. He was employed to count pests with traps. Only the traps didn't trap they counted, there's a word for these non traps, I know counters.

So the ridge I had planned to ascend was a good route and had "nice' bush but so also was the ridge behind the quarry. Back along the 4WD track saw us at the quarry. With so much river gravel and boulders I couldn't see the point of blowing up rocks! Anyway, we strolled back and forth trying to find a point of least resistance, for goodness sake it's 10am already lets get in there! SMACK I got lashed across my face by a supplejack vine following too close to Bruce. Man, I got clobbered so hard my eyes are watering, no, damn my glasses got knocked off. Tony assertively told me "DON'T MOVE!" Hell, is there a snake or something about to bite me? No, I was standing on a canopy of plants and my glasses were about to fall into the darkness below, never to be seen again, well from my eyes anyway! Thanks Tony. Immediately I found clothing, Bruce had left me a trail, how generous.

We quickly learnt to keep the person ahead (or is that shaking trees) in view so there was no possibility of separation. We regularly called out to each other mostly from the middle point of the group to maintain cohesion, or was it so no one got shot by inept hunters? Trev followed deer trails which followed the true right of a gully. At the top of the gully there was still no ridge, yet we were now descending!? The gully was in fact a fault line cutting across the ridge. A verbal profusion from Bruce suddenly penetrated the peaceful bush F.. K, F..K, F..K, F..K, Ohhhhhh ( pause, I can't think of a stronger swearword),F..K, F..K ..... Then Rob started pulling down his shorts. Bush fever is affecting our group! Later we found out that a wasp hive had been disturbed, Bruce was stung three times and Rob twice.

Gradually we gained height, finally the forest opened up and the sun came in. We had lunch under some large Rata trees and threw sticks at Bruce to gain a reaction. We were already exhausted by bush, which grew down, and outwards like a hand continually on your forehead stopping progress. Already we had referred more times to a map than I had over the last six months of tramping.

Putting lunch to work we climbed steeply moving into silver beech forest The deer trails were good with plenty of 'sign' but fallen trees and saplings made life difficult. All of a sudden we found snail shells, lots of them, we were at the bushline, four hours from the quarry at sea level. Lovely views down to Jackson's Bay and Open Bay islands were available as we slumped in a small clearing for twenty minutes. Well this won't get us to the top exclaimed Rev, I mean Trev, (spoilsport!).

It looked easy going above from now on, BUT we had to first clear the scrub-line. I couldn't believe it, the scrub was so thick we decided the going was better in the bush, crazy stuff! After gaining a bit of height and a few hundred metres we built fortitude to meet the scrub head on, or was it that the bush ended and we had no choice.

To get to the scrub we had to climb over a room sized rock which had two trees backing onto its rock face. Trev and Matt got over fine. However Bruce, Tony and Rob all tried at once, sedge style. Bruce went for rock scrambling holding onto a tree limb, Tony climbed the tree onto the limb Bruce clung to, as it wobbled so did Bruce, his feet moved faster than a road runner cartoon, as he spat moss off the rock face. Cracking noises came from the limb while Rob climbed a tree left of Tony and its branches pushed onto Tony. Finally all three slumped up onto the top of the rock! After this James and I went individually, I risked a tree limb, which the others had tried to destroy, cracking noises were heard as I looked to the ground three metres below. I pulled myself up over the remaining two metres of rock above. James used his iceaxe (the only time it got used all weekend) to hook branches and rock holds alike.

I battled the front line of the scrub. I tried walking on top, pushing forward and sideways even jumping up and over for some floundering. I got that sinking feeling and fell down through the scrub to the ground to gain a whole two metres. My childhood came to my aid as I started crawling; excellent progress was made until I came to a boulder. With seven of us combined we forced through slowly. Forty minutes later we were past the worst but not a lot higher.

I had hoped there would be snow to melt for camping but there was only occasional frost and ice. We climbed the remaining 300m in an hour to find a lovely site 80m below Mt Marks on the summit ridge. James, Bruce and Tony went down to the tarns for water while Trev, Rob, Matt and I set up tents. The tarns were covered by ice and the closest tarn, perhaps puddle, was picked and drained of 19 litres of water. The poor tarn didn't know what hit it here on the 'dry' West Coast.

With much sweating and only 1 1/2 litres for the day I was dehydrated and when the water came I gulped down a litre, the water was so cold I was nearly sick. In windless conditions as the sun set in the sea we enjoyed views from Cascade Point/Jackson's Bay and Haast to Mt Cook. A four course meal ensued as we watched a satellite move north parallel to the West Coast, stars appeared, some low on the horizon flashed like red and orange lights and boat lights appeared out to sea.

I noticed a change of lighting on the mountains in the Okuru and Haast valleys either side of us. Shadows turned to light and highlights turned to shadow, it was the fall moon rising behind Mt Marks taking over after sunset. Beams of moonlight shone down the Okuru and Haast valleys out to sea, finally the moon lit up our campsite and torches were redundant I enjoyed watching shooting stars fall toward the sea lighting up like flares as they fell into a layer of high cloud toward Australia. Bedtime finally called and we snuggled into the nice dry hollows each of us had picked out. With a Minaret, two Microlights and three biv bags mere was still enough tentage to fit three more people in an emergency.

I woke to a beautiful red sunrise over Mt Cook, high cloud now covered the whole sky and the moon was a hazy blob toward the sea. A NWer had picked up and a layer of lower cloud lay parallel to the coast 20km off shore, fortunately the high held it at bay. Over the following 3 days W-NW rainstorms pounded the West Coast while the East Coast recorded record May temperatures! Rob was up already and brought up another 19 litres of water from the tarn, I mean puddle.

We decided to climb over Mt Marks and follow the ridge I had picked out on the true left of Greenstone Creek. We reached the summit ten minutes from camp after a late 9am start. The view to Staircase Creek became another trip in the planning and the main divide stretched along the eastern horizon. Trev took a group photo but his camera had other ideas swinging around with the wind, we all ran to try and stay in the shot! A helicopter arrived below us to drop off the DOC contractor and took less than 5 minutes to fly down to Haast. Before going bush we lazed in the sun on soft dry tussock eating and taking in the magical surroundings.

With no scrub we plunged into the bush after playing with three Keas. Old leaves from ten metre tall Dracophyllum trees (I thought they only grew as shrubs) made the ground slippery but we all got to have a closer look at the snail shells. The ridge was steep and initially well defined. Later bush pushed us true left toward a gully; we alternated true left then right of the ridge taking the path of least resistance. Lunch was nice with lots of bird life including a Kaka, oh, and we got to throw more sticks at Bruce.

After lunch the going was unexpectedly steep with areas of bluffs to avoid instead of the easy triangle shaped lower ridge that the map showed. Now the fun began in the 'nice' bush the DoC contractor had described. Bruce used sliding techniques, with only a yell as a warning. Tony got skittled just like 10-pin bowling, STRIKE! Bruce swept Tony's feet from under him as they both slid into the forest Next Trev got taken out and men Tony again. Later Trev and I broke trail (literally) crawling and sprawling horizontally over thick ferns above a steep section. I unfortunately fell through headfirst but managed to flip over and grab a well-rooted sapling so I didn't slide down the steep ground under the ferns. Trev thanked me for making an idiot of myself so he didn't have to! Often we slithered under tree trunks, hands, knees, chests, backs even horizontally under supplejack vines. Wire like roots and supplejack looped over feet, arms and packs. I spent a few minutes at one stage just to untangle myself vine by vine. Matt even nearly hung himself from a tree!

WASPS!!! yelled Matt, we all tried to hurry down through the forest but supplejack held us back. Later, another wasp hive was opened, the third for the weekend. I distinctly remember running down a clear area between two fallen trees seeing wasps around my head and in front of me, all blurred by speed. Pungas later slowed my descent as I crashed through the forest like a plane doing an emergency landing in bush. Only Tony and I escaped the weekend with no wasp stings, although I did get a single sandfly bite in the 4WD as we drove home, and it was a real nasty bite! Bruce came off worst with about 8
stings.

I used supplejack vines to repel steeper sections however NEVER use supplejack vines as foot holds when down climbing rock faces. Despite carefully standing at the stabilising midpoint of the vine I didn't allow for swing in the opposite direction. My foot went skyward and I like Tarzan swung on vines until I found the ground. Tony I believe had a similar experience after an altercation with, you guessed it, Bruce. James to his credit was ready to catch Tony had the vines not held! A kilometre of flat forest saw us receive the added bonus of mud and creeks as we coasted out to the main highway. We stepped out of the bush at 3:40pm a full twenty minutes before the usual 4pm deadline, excellent!

A special thanks to those who drove. Thanks also to Bruce who helped organise the trip to a place I've always wanted to go to, especially with such a great bunch of people.

Paul Van Kampen for Bruce Bernasconi, Tony Malcolm, Trevor Deaker, Rob Porteous, Matt Corbett and James Griffiths.
 

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