Rangiwahia Hut

Overview: a quick tramp in to one of Ruahine Forest Park's most popular huts for a night on the snowy open tops. 25th-26th July 2026.

The sky was grey, the air misty, and sporadically heavy rain was falling as I trundled may way along the road of rural Rangitikei. Turning on to the gravel of Renfrew Road, the thick cloud obscured any view of the Ruahine Range. 
A couple of gates block the last section of the access road where it crossed farm land - leaved them as you find them (i.e., closed).
The carpark sits at an altitude just over 800 m - a pleasing fact considering that the hut is sited at a grand 1310 m, leaving an accessible climb of around 500 m spread out kindly over the 4.3 km track. For comparison, the tramp to Powell Hut involves an elevation gain of ~900 m. Even Herepai Hut requires an almost 500 m gain to reach the modest final altitude of 800 m.

The track starts climbing immediately, albeit gently. It's well graded and well maintained. A short distance in, the Deadmans Track branches off for a steep march directly up the ridge. I remain on the Rangiwahia Track, which winds sedately along the hillside, gradually gaining altitude. Switchbacks ease the gradient. At times I found the track reminiscent of the 5-mile loop track in the Remutaka Forest Park's Catchpool Valley area.

 

Above 1000 m there were occasional patches of snow, sleet began to mix with the rain, the forest became more stunted and shaped by the prevailing winds. The skeletons of dead pāhautea/mountain cedar loom in the mist. Gaps in the forest give glimpses of a steep neighbouring ridge, scarred by slips. In places, the forest is dominated by the distinctive horopito tree - the landscape here is prone to landslides, which take out much of the shallowly rooted red beech that make up much of the forest. Horopito readily repopulates such areas before any other species, so these patches of horopito-dominated forest tell a story of movement of the land in days gone by.

The track gets close to 1100 m, and diverts steeply over the top of an unstable slip before descending to a dramatic bridge over a gorge of an unnamed tributary of the Mangawharariki River. This bridge is a highlight of the track - an almost delicate-looking wooden arch spanning a gap between a pair of rocky promontories that form a natural gateway, towering over the river far below.

After the bridge and a brief section of incongruous concrete path, the climb begins again with a series of stairs made of timber, gravel, concrete and natural slabs of rock. As I wend my way further up the hillside, the trees eventually thin and transition to tussock and alpine scrub. At times the track is cut deeply into the hill and the scrub branching overhead provides welcome shelter. The rain was now falling as snow, and where previously the exertion of the tramp kept the chill at bay, I was now starting to feel it.

A small waterfall is passed about 300 m from the hut, but the first sign I was almost there was the sight of what I would later find out was the woodshed appearing on the horizon. Shortly afterward the hut came into view, and there was much rejoicing. 

I could not, however, immediately relax. First I had to make several trips in the increasing voluminous snow to the oddly distant woodshed, which included unearthing the axe from under to snow in order to chop kindling while gradually losing feeling in the gloved fingers. Soon enough though, I was in the hut, firewood piled up and the fire started, drying off and changing into warm, dry clothes while some water was on the boil for a hot drink.
Rangiwahia is a bookable hut, and last I checked it was fully booked. I was the first to arrive and was alone for about an hour before a grand total of three other people arrived - a far cry from the full hut I had expected, but a pleasant surprise.

The icing on the cake of a pleasant evening was a couple if ice cold beers out of the mountain fridge:

The next morning, the skies had cleared and a thick coating of fresh snow covered the hut and its surrounds. After a modest sleep-in and a couple of coffees it was time to head out. I had toyed with the idea returning via a loop over the tops and down the Deadmans Track. I decided I couldn't be bothered slogging through several kilometres of potentially deep snow and the sogginess that would entail. Instead, it would be a quick return back down the Rangiwahia Track.

 

It was a pleasant walk out in the much improved weather, although once the trees became taller and the track more covered by the forest canopy, lumps of snow mobilised by the morning sun began to drop, hitting the ground with heavy slaps. At times, the snow melt from the canopy was like walking in the rain.

Back across the bridge, the snow is soon left behind on the descent. Plenty of day hikers were making the most of the good weather to get out into the hills and see the snow.
The end of track appeared unexpectedly quickly and it was time for the drive home.

It's easy to see why this hut is as popular as it is, the reward-to-effort ratio is pretty hard to beat. A great little getaway from reality for the weekend.

Map:

Elevation Profile:

Times and Distance:

Car park to bridge: 2.60 km, 1 hr; bridge to hut: 1.72 km, 52 min. Total 4.32 km, 1 hr 52 min.
Return time 1 hr 31 min. Elevation difference: +/- 482 .

 
 

Camping in the Silverpeaks

 A short walk into Dunedin's Silverpeaks Reserve to visit the derelict Possum Hut and camp out for the night. 20th-21st June 2026.

This will be the fifth South Island tramp in a row this year, which would be completely unremarkable were it not for the fact I live in the North Island. Tramping was not the sole purpose of this trip however, rather it was a chance to catch up with the now Dunedin-dwelling Cody. Naturally though, that catching up included tramping.

Lacking the time and motivation for a more extensive adventure, we ended up planning to visit the nearby Silverpeaks for a walk into the historic and derelict Possum Hut and camp nearby for the night. I had recently bought a 2-person Big Agnes tramping tent that I had yet to try out - I was going to wait for warmer weather but this ended up providing as good an opportunity as any.

The weather was, in short, bad, but expected to improve in the evening so we started out fairly late in the day. From the parking area on Semple Road, we followed the "Gold Miners Direct" track - signposted, marked and maintained by the Green Hut Track Group. The group, I assume alongside other community groups, has long maintained an extensive network of tramping routes in the Silverpeaks in addition to DOC's official Silverpeaks Circuit track. Until recently these tracks were not marked on Topo50 maps, but the latest edition (2025?) includes many of them, including the Gold Miners Direct, marked as "routes".

 

The track begins with a meander through manuka-dominated forest along the 400 m contour. It's well cut into the hillside and frequently surrounded with bright green moss. After 600m, the track begins steeply descending a spur through a tunnel of sooty mould-encrusted manuka. 

 The descent is slow, bordering on torturous. The ground is muddy and incredibly slippery - I ended up on my back twice. Hiking poles would've been very helpful, as evidenced by Cody (who had one) not slipping over at all.
At times the descent is moderated by a series of short, tight switchbacks that zig-zag over what is presumably the pre-switchback track. Cody recalled reading somewhere that these parts of the old track can trace their origin to water races dug for colonial gold mining efforts. 

 

 

Things level out somewhat after kilometre or so, once the track enters a valley. There is then a small creek to be crossed, followed by another 600-ish metres of track sidling above the creek (which stays largely out of view) with minimal elevation change but no less slipperiness. Part way along this section is the signposted junction with the so-called Eucalypt Ridge track. This isn't marked on Topo50 maps, but is marked on this OTMC map: https://www.otmc.co.nz/files/silverpeaks/silver_peaks_river_track_v5.pdf. The name is self explanatory - exotic gum trees dot the horizon, towering over the lower-growing native flora. 

 Shortly from here is a small clearing and another track junction. We follow the left branching track further up the headwaters of the nascent Waikouaiti River toward Possum Hut. Another creek is crossed along the way. 

The forest here seems more mature and varied in species than the manuka forest we started in. There's plenty of the typical beech species, and finally plenty trees with a bit of substance to them. Shortly we arrive at Possum Hut, which appears suddenly among the trees though the winter gloaming, parked haphazardly on the side of the track.

 It is easy to see why the hut is officially derelict. The whole thing is on a lean, which gives the appearance it's sliding away down the hill. The stone chimney is partially collapsed. A tarp is strung up inside, a likely futile attempt at weather tightness. There's an undeniable charm though, a link to a bygone age slowly returning to the land it sits among. Curiously, the interior walls reveal that the hut is a cob structure, despite the external corrugated iron cladding. 

Historical coolness aside, a problem soon became apparent - although the hut is in a small clearing, said clearing is smaller than photos of the hut had lead us to expect. Unfurling the ground sheet (or "footprint" to use the North American parlance) confirmed that there wasn't really enough space to comfortably set up camp, so we retraced our steps to the junction clearing we'd passed earlier.

The ground was soggy but a light rain had resumed and the light was fading so the tent was pitched (with only minimal confusion from not reading the instructions), a tarp erected and a campfire started. Despite damp conditions and the awkward tedium of entering and exiting a small tent without bringing all the water and mud from outside in, it was a great evening. Helped, in no small part, by the many beers we carried in with us and the cheering effect of a small but crackling fire.

The new tent kept us dry all night, though a not-completely-sealed-closed valve on my mat meant I woke up on the cold ground. It was an icy cold morning but the skies were clear and the sun was on the rise.

After coffee and not-sausages (sizzlers, legally not a sausage!) for breakfast, we packed up and eventually headed out some time after 10 am. The bright morning sun gave the track a very different and altogether more inviting vibe than yesterday. Without the low cloud, there is also the odd view to be found along the way.

Eucalypt Ridge, visible from the campsite

Camp, featuring Sizzlers (TM) burstless, skinless processed meat product on the cooker (legally not sausages!)

The ascent can't be ignored (and yep, still slippery), but not all that bad. Soon enough we were back snaking our way along the 400 m contour to the car park.
All in all, a very short tramp, but a great night in the bush. 

 Map:

Elevation Profile:

Times and Distances:

Car park to Campsite (River Track junction): 1.75 km, 50 min. Campsite to Possum Hut: 0.64 km, 25 min.