Day 120 - the uncrossable river
Wild camp —-> Top Timaru hut 34km
We set off from camp this morning around 8am with an unusual amount of optimism for the day ahead. We had a few km to walk until we reached the Ahuriri river - the largest unbridged river on the TA trail. Crossing on foot would be really tricky with the rain that had come down over the last few days but I was feeling confident, I hadn’t heard of anyone else NOT being able to cross it…?!
We followed the trail through the tussock fields…
…until we stood on a large bank over looking the river. It didn’t look deep from up here… But when we climbed down, we saw it was in full force. Fast flows and rapids at every point we could see. There were some islands we could wade to, but when we got there, there was no safe way across the other side. I couldn’t see the bottom of the river which meant I was not getting in… there was no way I was getting swept away this close to the end!
After half an hour of trying, John and I headed back up to the bank and resound ourselves to taking the detour - 5km down to a farm vehicle bridge, and then 5km back up to the trailhead on the other side of the river. Our day was already big… but with an extra 10km, unless we wild camped, were going to be walking in the dark to the hut.
The detour route travelled along the high river bank in between the cliff edge and a landowners fence. It was slow going as we were constantly bashing through bushes or scrambling along the fence line so we wouldn’t slip off the cliff. At points we climbed underneath the farm fence as the track just melted away on the other side.
Eventually the track joined up with an actual farm track and after fording a stream, we raced along to cross the bridge and joined up with Birchwood road on the other side of the river.
We’d been watching the road as we came down the other side and there were a few cars travelling up and down. A few was three, but at least we had a chance of hitching up to the trailhead! I was so desperate not to have to walk 5km up the road.
After a few ginger nuts (John’s never-ending supply) to perk us up, we set off again and ten minutes later, a car pulled up with what felt like our guardian angel inside. A wonderful glider pilot on maternity leave driving into the bush for some peace and quiet. She wonderfully dropped us at the Breast Hill track trailhead up the road. It was 11.30am… we now just about had a chance of getting to Top Timaru hut before dark. 23km in 7 hours - we weren’t sure if our legs could manage it but we we’re definitely going to give it our best shot.
After multiple river crossings and bush whacking we sat down for lunch - the sun finally came out and we basked in its rays for as long as we dare before setting off again.
The afternoon followed an old 4WD track which helped us forget about the steepness of the gradient. We were now tackling 12km of constant uphill.
But what started off as a gentle incline, soon turned into a “oh my word why am I doing this in the afternoon” incline. It was so much harder than I had anticipated it to be.
When we reached Tin hut at 2.30pm, we were very close to just unpacking and chilling there for the rest of the afternoon,
But spurred on by thoughts of getting to Wānaka in two days - we pushed on up to the top of Martha’s saddle.
The climb down from the saddle was just as steep, made more complicated by the rocks and skree forming the path. Incredible cliffs and overhanging rocks towered above making every step feel a little precarious.
As we descended into the valley floor, the light started to fade. Sunset was at 5.58pm but we had another half an hour after that to reach the hut without the use of our headtorches. Rabbits were out in full force, scurrying around the dusky valley.
At 6.15pm Top Timaru hut came into view ahead of us and by 6.25pm we were unrolling our sleeping bags. The hut was fairly new, and wonderfully warm, largely down to it being very small, just a six bunk. It was just John and I there so we could spread our stuff out, very helpful when you’re unpacking in the dark.
The hut’s water source was the Timaru river down below, which required a fair bit of scrambling to actually get to. John made use of the wellies that were left in the porch outside, presumably left by hunters who often frequented the area. Once attained, actually drinking the water also required a little effort - it was the first water I’d had on the whole trail where it was a different colour. It was dark grey. full of silt from the bottom of the river. The silt did a great job of blocking up my water filter and leaving a lovely slime on the bottom of my cooking pot. Weirdly - it actually tasted lovely!
Absolutely pooped from the day, John and I ate dinner, lay down and went to sleep. 8pm bed time is becoming more and more common…
