Day 64 – Porter Hut to Top Wairoa Hut

Today I set out to take an unmarked shortcut across Porters Ridge.  Though I’ve frequently gone cross-country without markers, I’ve generally been following something with at least an abstract existence on DoC maps as a “route.”  Today I was operating from a 1:50,000 topographic map, a compass, and a few scribbled words in a hut book. With the added complication that there might be unseen snow atop the ridge, I was suitably cautious about this adventure, but I figured I could always descend if it got too rough.

I picked a gully that looked to be reasonably broad and not too steep. After following the trail on the flats for about half an hour, I turned right up my chosen gully. It was running with water so I tossed the contents of my bottle, figuring I’d refill before leaving the gully.

Towards the head, the gully got steeper and rockier so I started to ascend a nearby spur that would take me to the ridge proper. Now it was really tough walking, and I was frequently grabbing rocks or tufts of snowgrass to help lift myself up. It took nearly an hour to ascend, and there were a few dodgy slippery bits, but soon I reached a big plateau where I could get my bearings. I felt great, on top of the world. I would be ridgewalking today, and I had just finished paying my dues by climbing that spur. The payoff would be more of the amazing views I was enjoying right now, and very little additional climbing.  Across to the east was a smallish mountain with a light covering of snow, fast melting as the day warmed. Behind me to the South, the bigger peaks of Nelson Lakes National Park were covered in more snow.

A ridge is what they call in orientation a “handrail,” a line feature that, once you’ve found it, you can can follow to your destination. In fact, I didn’t follow the ridge precisely, often sidling a bit to one side or another to dodge a rocky section or skip some climbing. Very early on, I came within view of my main peak for the day, about 150m of extra climbing.  Unfortunately the straight-ahead route and the west side were both too steep, and the east side still had snow. I set out on the east side, figuring I’d sidle up and around, trying to step only where the rocks were visible through the snow. This quickly became impossible, and I was walking through snow, occasionally with ice underneath. I kept telling myself how foolish this was, but the slope was not steep and I would always have my hands on other rocks when taking a risky step. It was harder, slower going than I expected, but I never once fell.

I rounded the corner and found a spectacular view of the Red Hills, a ridge facing Porters and forming a long, deep valley. The head of this valley is where I would descend tonight to the head of the Wairoa River.

The Red Hills are composed of ultramafic rock, meaning they are basic and iron rich.  The iron gives them their red color as it oxidizes, and the basic pH means that few plants grow on them. The resulting marsscape is quite stunning. Below me to my right was a large mossy ledge with a tarn that I figured would make a fantastic campsite, but I had many more miles to go today.

I proceeded to pick my way along the rocks of Porters Ridge, smiling and happy. The sun was shining but not too hot, I was making fast progress, the mountains were beautiful, and I felt like everything was going my way.

Then I rounded a small peak and, ka-wow!  There it was, the ocean!  It was a bit hazy but I could distinctly see a sliver of Tasman Bay over the mountains. It was thrilling.  It really brought home the fact that I was almost finished with my tramp. At the same time, it was a weighty, sad realization – my tramp was almost over. I sat and stared at that sliver of grey-blue for a while, and then more immediate concerns returned and I set out to finish walking before the sun set.

Where Porter’s Ridge and the Red Hills meet, I descended to the North and met up with the trail again. Not much good it did me, as it was very poorly marked through this section, and an optimistic reading of the map frequently misled me during the difficult sidling descent across tussock. The trail did get better though, and I was soon tucked away in tidy Top Wairoa Hut.