Old Times Sake - Herepai Hut for the umpteenth time

 Overview: a long overdue return to Herepai Hut finds much has changed on the once familiar track up the Mangatainoka river valley.

 Anyone who has taken a cursory glance around this blog will have no doubt noticed the alarming quantity of trips to Herepai Hut. Most recently, Cody and I visited in 2022 to check out the spectacular overhaul the hut had received thanks to the Back Country Trust. On that journey, we'd found that recent stormy weather had brought down an enormous landslide on the river's true right that had partially damned the river. I was curious to see what had become of this, but was not expecting the changes to be quite as dramatic as they turned out to be.

 The walk begins as it always has and I imagine always will: across the perma-bog on private land before crossing the first of two swingbridges and entering some proper forest. Shortly after was the first big change - which I almost didn't notice. Where once we'd found a fresh stony landslide was now pretty densely covered in regenerating kanuka scrub. It's been interesting to watch the changes here over the last 11 years.

In 2015 this was a fresh landslide of rock and soil.

About a kilometre from the start we reached the second big change and the first surprise of the day. Where once the track had followed unremarkably around the edge of a modest cliff, massive corrosion and subsidence had forced the track in from the river to avoid this now impassable section. At a newly carved gully for a minor creek I'd never before paid any mind, the track proper is rejoined.
500m further on, at the site the massive landslide, more destruction awaited. It would seem further storm activity and a river in flood burst through the natural dam and carved a new channel, obliterating nearly 200m of track. A rough re-routed track has now formed - pay attention to track markers and it's not hard to follow.
On our return journey, Cody found that an island in the middle of the river contained traces of what used to be the track.

 From there on it was pretty much back to normal, though I did note that at a point shortly before the second bridge where the track turns sharply right and a little overlook, there appears to be a well-trodden unofficial trail down towards the river. This bit of track has always looked to me like the track was once heading straight on (over what is now a steep drop) before being taken out by a landslide and being re-routed further in from the river. Take note - this will become relevant later in this tail. 

 Upon arriving at the second swingbridge we found a fluoro pink-painted wooden stake with a note about being for a new bridge. Looks like I'll have more reason to return st some point.

After the bridge is the famous slog up to the ridge line. There's a lot of relatively recent tree fall along the way so there a times when the track is even more rugged than usual. I kind of like it though - it feels pretty adventurous and properly backcountry without actually being all that wild. Rain began setting in along this stretch so it was jackets on and camera in the pack, wary as we were of severe weather warning circling.

 Approaching the top of the ridge, the rain became a thick mist, which remained surrounding us all the way to Herepai Hut. Once on the ridge, it's a pleasant yet muddy walk until the final little uphill slog to reach the hut. The hut was, as usual, a very welcome site. Previous users had left plenty of dry firewood so we were able to get a cosy fire crackling for the evening.

The morning brought gale winds, lower temperatures, but thankfully no rain. We spent a bit of time collectively cleaning the dunny (courtesy of cleaning equipment supplied by the Greater Wellington Backcountry Network), rehabbing rusty patches on the top of the firebox, and chopping more wood. We eventually departed around 11:30, with the aim of making it out before the torrential rain expected to hit in the afternoon.

Arriving at the Roaring Stag junction, I encountered a bloke in the early stages of what sounded like a pretty intense expedition. During our chat he mentioned ending up by the river, getting a bit turned around and ending up below the second swingbridge and ultimately camping somewhere along the track to the top of the ridge. I was a bit confused about how that could happen, but soon enough I had to direct my attention to not falling down on the descent.

 

 

 

The lump of land on the right is an island in the river that used to be the bank of the river whose old location was out of frame on the right.

After arriving at the second swingbridge yesterday, we'd realised neither if us had noticed the Tararua Forest Park sign located about 1.5 km from the start of the track. Making the effort to look for it today, it became apparent that it used to be somewhere in the part of the track that is now where part of the river flows. We had a pole around the new river channel but saw no sign of it (pun intended).

Further on at the other major washout, I was chatting with another party about the storm damage who said that all the big changes had occurred since their last visit about a year ago. They also mentioned somehow getting waylaid and ending up below the second swingbridge. This conversation put all the puzzle pieces together in my mind and we concluded that they and old mate from earlier (whom they'd also encountered) had been mislead by the seemingly new-ish foot trail leading down from the track at the little overlook near the bridge (see, I told you it'd become relevant later).

Soon enough we were back at the roadend, with the first drops of rain hitting the windscreen shortly after hitting the road. A damn good tramp to ol' reliable.

Distances:

Roadend to first washout: 1.03 km; to second washout (former Forest Park Sign area): 1.55 km; to second swingbridge: 2.50 km.

Second bridge to Roaring Stag junction: 1.64 km. Junction to hut: 1.66 km. Total 5.8 km.

Map: 

Major washout areas marked by the red triangles. 

Altitude Profile:

 

 This post is dedicated to the Tararua Forest Park sign. Gone but not forgotten.

RIP

Over the Hill

 Overview: a nostalgic amble to Atiwhakatu Hut with friends and family.

 My formative tramping experiences began some 20 years ago in Scouts, where I met Best Friend(TM) Cody, and where both our fathers were Scout leaders. As best I can remember, the last time we were all tramping together was for the Holdsworth-Jumbo Circuit all the way back in 2013. 
The Waitangi long weekend, along with Cody being up from Dunedin coalesced in a nostalgic outing to Atiwhakatu hut - chosen for it's accessibility for the venerable elders in our midst.

 The weather couldn't have been better as we began our walk along Donnelly Flat from a bustling Mt Holdsworth campsite. The track here is wide, even, and easygoing. After Donnelly Flat, the track sidles alongside the Atiwhakatu stream, traversing cliffs and terraces amongst verdant beech forest. It's an easy stroll with minimal change in altitude (although the seniors managed only a sedate pace).

Surveying the damage

The halfway point is more-or-less where the river ridge track from Mountain House joins the Atiwhakatu track. About 2.4 km from the hut, the track crosses an active slip that has been present on the track at least a decade. Back in 2014 there was some subsidence on an otherwise unremarkable section of track; 4 years later the slip was crossed across the top; now it's crossed near river level (much less exciting).

The hut was nearly full when we arrived, but we were able to claim a table and wile away the evening with food, beers, card games, and tails of the tramps of yore. 

 The next morning we were met by my mum and Jensen the dog for the return journey, ending in high spirits and keen for more tramps in the future (decrepit joints and impending dementia notwithstanding).

Ent?

Field Hut

Overview: a quick overnighter from Otaki Forks to the oldest surviving tramping hut in the Tararua FP.

Years of road closures meant I'd never before made the trip up to Otaki Forks to do any tramping there. Around the middle of the year, the Kapiti Coast District Council finally reopened Otaki Gorge road... which then promptly closed again after stormy weather in October, on the exact weekend I'd planned to head out there. Fast-forward to late November, and I was finally on the trail to Field Hut.

 

Starting from the signposted "overnight carpark", there's a short walk through the bush to Boielle Flat and the suspension bridge over the Waiotauru River. Across the river, the track begins to climb almost immediately, passing turn-offs to other destinations on the way up the ridge. 

 The first two or so kilometres are pretty exposed, traversing a landscape of low manuka and kanuka scrub. If I had to guess, regenerating forest from attempts at farming in colonial times. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, so the lack of tree cover made for a hot, sweaty ascent before the welcome relief of reaching the forest and its nice shady canopy.

 

 

The track is never especially steep, but it nevertheless climbs unrelentingly up from Otaki Forks. Thus far, it is well graded and benched track that makes for a walk that would be pleasant amble, if not for the incline. There is much minute zigging and zagging, obscured by the scale of Topo50 maps, so by the time the trip odometer trips over to 3 km I wasn't nearly as far up the ridge as a quick glance over the map had lead me to expect.

However, from about this point (near spot height Pt 455), the track mostly follows the ridgeline to the hut. Along the ridge, the track also becomes a bit more rugged. Pretty decent all the same, but the typical muddy patches, roots and unformed track surface expected of a standard tramping track. The incline remains, but there is plenty of flat stretches and the proper dense forest that make this section more enjoyable.

 

The bright red monolith of Field Hut was a welcome sight, nestled in a small clearing just past Pt 866. Common tramping lore maintains that Field Hut is the oldest surviving tramping hut in the Tararua Range, built by noted bushman Joe Gibbs and the Tararua Tramping Club in 1924. Unsurprisingly for a hut of this age, it has plenty of rustic quirks but it's charm is undeniable. Plenty of others had made the journey for the night, and clear weather at sunset meant almost everyone, without any co-ordinating efforts, ended up on the helicopter clearing above the hut to watch the sun go down.

 

 

The next morning was crisp and sunny, so I elected for breakfast and a brew out on the helicopter clearing, overlooking the valleys now filled with thick white cloud.

 

The one advantage to the incessant incline of the inbound trip means that the return journey is almost exclusively downhill - and not the kind that's so steep it crushes your knees. So it was an easy non-stop 2 hours back to the carpark, with a quick digression to bag Parawai Lodge on the way.

 

Times and Distances:

 6.88 km each way (not including Parawai Lodge). 3hr 13 min in, 2 hr out.

 Map:

Elevation Profile: