Day 66 - knife edge

Nichols hut —-> Parawai Lodge 18km

The morning view from Nichols hut was just magical.

And whoever is in charge of awards for loos - they need to visit Nichols hut long drop. Surely a contender for best view from a loo!

As the sun rose up over the mountains, the morning’s clouds dissipated making me excited for the day ahead. The first challenge was the climb up Mt Crawford, the highest point I’d reach in the Tararuas at 1462m.

I said goodbye to Andy and Lucy (they weren’t planning to walk as far as me today) and left Nichols hut, climbing up and over a small peak before starting the climb up Crawford. From the get go I felt like I was climbing up a tightrope. The path was thin with only teeny patches of rock either side of me. Beyond that rock was a sheer drop off the side of the ridge. I’d walk a few metres, reach a boulder I’d have to haul myself up and over, teeter along a rock face then breathe a huge sigh of relief when I reached a patch of ground wide enough I was comfortable standing still on. My saving grace came when I’d climbed into the clouds. I could see well enough ahead of me, but my view was now a white out. It was less scary when I couldn’t see where I might fall.

I took no photos of any scary path for fear I’d fall off or drop my phone. This is a non-scary section.

After an hour of holding my breath, I finally reached the top of Crawford to find I was now above the clouds. It felt other-worldly. I had no magnificent view across the ranges, but instead, the peaks poked their tops through the cloud, just enoughq to remind me they were still there.

It was eerily calm. A a slight whisker of wind, the odd fly buzzing but otherwise completely silent. I sat for almost an hour at the top, basking in the sunshine and watching the clouds move around the mountains.

The path off Crawford first followed the ridgeline for a couple of km. Mostly in the clouds still but wonderfully thick ridgeline, nothing like the knife edge I had climbing up.

As I got lower, I sank below the cloud on one side of the ridgeline…

…but the other side remained firmly in thick cloud. Whatever views sit across the mountains from that side of Crawford I will have to google.

The next 5km was a steep climb down off the ridge and into the treeline, a descent of over 1000m in altitude to reach Waitewaewae hut. The path was surprisingly bouncy in places, clear of tree roots and lined with moss, almost like mini hedges guiding the way; the opposite of any Tararua track I’d seen so far.

A long swingbridge provided an easy route over the river to the hut and I was there for 1pm, ravenous for lunch.

After lunch (standard is one bierstick, a cheese, salami and tomato wrap, a handful of dried mango and a mini Whittakers chocolate bar), I tended to various wounds. I felt absolutely battered - I’d fallen over so many times within the past three days: in the mud, over tree roots, into branches, that my legs were purple all over. I was bleeding from two cuts I didn’t even realise I had.

I had until dark (approximately 8pm) to get to Parawai Lodge, the final hut on the Tararua section. The notes said it was between 4-6 hours walk, but there was a very confronting notice in Waitewaewae hut about a slip on the track that apparently would easily add an hour onto the journey. I’d spoken to a fair few people about this section and the best way to get around the slip and was very confident it wouldn’t be that long but still, I needed to get my skates on.

I left the hut at 1.45pm and raced through the forest as fast I could. Jumping over fallen trees and clambering over rocks, barely stopping to say hi as a couple of NOBOs came past me in the opposite direction.

It was wet and boggy and full of everything that tries to kill me - mud, roots, vines. I got lost several times amongst the dense trees, the little orange triangles proving elusive in this part of the forest.

By 6pm I was pooped, but I was out of the forest and back into the sunshine. The trail had joined an abandoned tram track and it was wonderfully flat, devoid of all the usual forest obstacles.

I crossed over the slip in the track without much incident, following the notes Sandy had sent me a few days prior - it took me less than ten minutes, nothing like the hour DOC was claiming, thankfully.

I felt like I was on the home stretch to the hut but the track dragged and dragged and dragged. I was again being battered as I bashed my way through the overgrown trail, scratchy gorse adding cuts to my legs on top of my existing cuts. I crossed the beautiful Otaki river on another long swingbridge and finally rocked up to the hut around 7.15pm.

I sank into a pile on a bench outside. Almost a twelve hour day, I would have fallen asleep on the porch if I wasn’t so hungry! I had the quickest of washes in the river, now freezing as the sun had gone behind the trees then settled inside to cook dinner. There were three other occupants of the hut - Grant & Annie who were on the TA, plus their friend Lindsay who had just joined them for this section. It very soon got dark so I ate under the light of my head torch and the moment the final mouthful went down I was climbing up to the top bunk to fall straight asleep. Not even the possums on the roof could keep me awake.