February 2004 · Heaphy Track Walk
David & Noel Coory's Journey to Heaphy Track Walk
First Look
Overall Impressions of Walk
- Water everywhere, tea-coloured rivers, gurgling streams in quiet bush and still more rivers.
- Wet, saturated rain forest and tussock land. No dry ground anywhere except inside huts.
- Four different countrysides each of the four days, some of it really beautiful.
- Mosquito size, biting sandflies that hover around all exposed skin whenever we stop outdoors for two or more minutes in daylight.
- Smell of insect repellent on walking companions.
- Interesting German, Dutch, Swiss and Belgium hut companions. More foreign language heard than English.
- Nuisance of trying to find things inside a pack.
- Two pair of eyes see a lot more than one pair.
- No snoring, even with 15 or more sleeping in one hut (one exception)
- Feet, knees and shoulders taxed with long distances and a heavy pack.
- Unstable on feet because of a heavy back pack and clumsy boots
- Packs seem to increase in weight after four hours walking.
- A feeling of satisfaction that only comes from effort.
- Simple life, free of daily concerns and telephones. Feel really alive.
A STORMY NIGHT AND AN EARLY START
Wind, Rain And The Longest Day On The Track
A violent storm arises soon after we go to sleep and keeps us awake most of the night. The wind howls and shrieks around the hut, which is in an exposed position, high in the ranges. It must have been over 100 kmh in velocity.
It sounds as if the wind is trying to tear the roof off, and the rain teems down hour after hour. I find the only way to get some sleep is to lie sideways on my small pillow and hold my folded up soft track pants over my other ear to deaden the noise. (Raymond said later that the noise didn’t bother him too much as he is used to it living in Wellington.)
When morning comes, the rain has stopped and we can see white clouds and blue sky. The wind is still strong however, and rather cool. I don’t have any breakfast, as is my custom, but all the others do. Today’s walk is the longest leg of all, 27 kms. Across high tussock downs mostly. So we eventually hoist our packs on our backs and set off.
I feel quite energetic. The strong wind helps to keep us cool. The foam padding used as cushioning down the inner back of hiking packs tends to make you hot. Yesterday all the hikers had wet sweat patches on their lower backs and upper bums. We start off in bush and cross many attractive streams over little wooden bridges.
“It sounds as if the wind is trying to tear the roof off”
A SOAKING AT THE STREAM
Wet Boots And A Hidden Bridge
The track is still rocky and rough, but not continually uphill like yesterday. We crossed several small unbridged streams, stepping on rocks, then we come to a much larger one than normal. It was quite deep and fast flowing and I would have expected it to have been bridged.
However, I put it down to the heavy rain we had overnight. So I start to rock hop across, but due to my heavy pack, which has an unbalancing effect, and clumsy boots, I slip off a rock and both my boots go under the knee deep water, soaking them.
Raymond manages to cross OK. He is wearing sports sneakers as he doesn’t have any boots at present. I later discover that the smaller sole area of light footwear and their greater flexibility give you a much better balance when crossing streams with a pack on your back.
I have taken my boots off and are standing there in my bare feet wringing water out of my socks when Raymond gives a sudden laugh. “Look, there’s a bridge.” He says. And sure enough, there hidden by overgrowth is a low bridge over the river. Wet feet for nothing!
I put on my spare pair of dry socks and Raymond finds a piece of sticking plaster for a cut on my finger that is bleeding from one of the rocks. I take a photo of the hidden bridge and we continue on. But I immediately find that my dry, thick, woollen socks are squelching and again saturated with water.
Modern boots have soft foam inner linings that soak up a lot of water. So we have to stop again while I wring out my socks again. Now both pairs of socks are wet.
It’s rather hard taking off boots while trying to stand on one foot, as there’s nowhere dry to sit down.
“Wet feet for nothing!”
ACROSS THE DOWNS
Tussock Country, Sunshine And Strong Winds
We carried on. There were many picturesque streams in this area, all well bridged. Very pleasant walking. Even my damp socks were comfortable as they kept my feet cool. We also found some pools that were an unusual orange and green colour. We passed some of the other walkers here.
Soon we left the bush of the gullies and came out onto the high, mostly tussock country called The Downs. This country is quite high at 900 meters. There were still trees in the sheltered gullies, but tussock on the exposed ridges. We were now exposed to the full strength of the wind in our faces, but it seemed to go with the ruggedness of the terrain. The sun began to shine also.
“The sun began to shine also.”
THE BOOT POLE
Brown Streams And A Famous Heaphy Landmark
The water in the streams seemed to be getting browner than ever. This made me doubt the official explanation that it is tannin from Beech tree leaves and roots that causes it. How could trees supply so much colour, year in and year out? Raymond and I argued good naturedly about this. He like most educated persons supported the ‘official explanation’ but I tried to shoot holes in it.
Raymond and I have different points of view on many things. I pointed out that the trees were no longer Beech and were getting sparser by the minute, but the water was browner than ever. He didn’t seem convinced.
We eventually came to the famous boot pole where worn out or broken boots (not surprising considering the rough terrain) had been abandoned. The original pole was much bigger a ranger told me later that morning, but had collapsed under the weight of the boots.
“He didn’t seem convinced.”
THE BLUE DUCK RIVER
Rare Wildlife Along The Track
After that we walked along a high ridge and could hear a largish river down in the tree lined gully. We caught glimpses of it through the trees, deep, clear, and very brown. Quite spectacular where the white foam of rapids contrasted with the brown deeper water.
As we neared the bridge over this river, we heard a strange noise like a cross between the croak of a bullfrog and the honk of a goose. As we crossed the bridge Raymond spotted two grey coloured ducks on a rock down in the river. A ranger later told us that these were the extremely rare Blue Duck. Raymond managed to get a close up photo using the maximum zoom on his camera.
Along this part of the walk we saw several traps by the sides of the track. They had ‘Do not touch’ written on them, but I couldn’t resist taking the lid off one and looking inside. It appeared to be a stoat trap, baited with a hen egg. The ranger later confirmed this, but he said that they hadn’t caught anything for six months.
“He didn’t seem convinced.”
GOULAND DOWNS HUT
A Rest In The Sun And The Simplicity Of Tramping
About mid-morning we arrived at the small Gouland Downs hut which we had seen in the distance for nearly an hour. There was a raised wooden platform here for camping on. It was warm and dry from the sun. Felt luxurious. I took off my boots and socks and laid them out in the sun to dry and sat on the platform and enjoyed a snack of peanuts and raisins.
A friendly, white bearded ranger, Graham, who had also visited us in our hut last night, came by and we had a chat together sitting on the wooden platform in the sun. He remarked that we both had the same boots (Hi-Tech).
I told him about the overgrown access to the bridge. He counselled me that I should not have wet both pairs of my socks. “You should always have a dry set of clothes to sleep in, and then put your wet clothes back on again while you are moving and keeping warm.”
I asked his opinion on lace-up rubber boots, which to me seemed more practical for our wet bush conditions, as they are waterproof, light and dry quickly. He said he has a mate who swears by them. He also said that he used to wear lace-up rubber boots himself, but slipped on a rock in a river once and injured himself, and hadn’t worn them since. Meaning I suppose that the rubber soles were not as grippy as those of good boots. I suspected that rubber boots could be bought with quality soles and made a mental note to look into it when I got home. Leather boots get heavy when they get wet inside and take days to dry out. They also get hot in the summer. The claim that leather ‘breathes’ is I believe just advertising hogwash. Leather is permeable, but not to the extent of allowing air circulation. They are hot, in summer, just like a leather jacket.
Feel really good, this life is simple. Time to move on, so I my put socks back on (still damp being wool) and my pack. The pack strap pressure is not bothering us today. Raymond’s blister is also holding up well. In fact I feel really good. We are completely remote from the stresses of modern life. No phones, no traffic, no meetings, no computer, no work, no bills. All we have to do is walk the track. Life is simple.
“Life is simple.”
LIMESTONE COUNTRY AND THE SWAMPS
Glow Worms, Boardwalks And Brown Water
We now entered limestone country with several small caves. We did a bit of exploring and found one that had glow worms in it. I took a photo of them up close, but they look a lot more glamorous from a distance in the dark.
Next we descended into a low lying, swampy area. Mostly tussock and scrub, with many boardwalks, muddy tracks, and swing bridges over the swampy rivers.
I couldn’t help pointing out to Raymond that the water was as brown as ever, and not a tree for miles. I decided that the brownness must come from the fractured brown rock that is predominant throughout the Kahurangi Ranges. We walked a huge distance, some of it climbing.
After the first swing bridge the track changed from a four wheel drive bike track, to a single dirt track with sand in many places. Much smoother to walk on. It remained a single track for the rest of the walk.
“Much smoother to walk on.”
A REST AT SAXON HUT
Lunch, New Friends And The Long Road Ahead
Soon came the welcome sight of the Saxon Hut. This is a modern hut, and an optional stay for those who are doing the track in five days instead of two.
Here we again met the 69 year old Colorado professor Jerry. He was taking the track easy and planned to stay there the night. I left my boots and socks to dry some more in the wind while we rested there for about an hour and had lunch. Again I could only eat half my lunch. I thought I would be starving with all the calories I was burning. Perhaps it’s the stimulation.
Reynold and Angelique, the couple from Holland whom we had passed earlier arrived and we had a nice chat with them. Poor Angelique, she was having trouble with one of her knees. It was quite swollen. She also had blisters, but she still smiled continually. She is a very nice person and I felt very sorry for her as there was still another 14 kms to go to the McKay Hut where we would be staying tonight.
Reynold is also a very nice person. They have a little girl (looked after in NZ by a grandmother while they walk the track) whom Reynold said he loved so much he was reluctant to have any more children in case he loved her less. I assured him that wouldn’t happen, and that our capacity to love increases as our family grows.
“She also had blisters, but she still smiled continually.”
L to R: Angelique, Jerry, Reynold and Raymond.
THE LONG WALK TO MCKAY HUT
Boardwalks, Manuka And Miles Of Tussock Country
We set off again. Our written track guide said that the next boardwalk section can flood after heavy rain and become impassable. Graham the ranger told us earlier that he has had to wade along that section of boardwalk. Fortunately it was OK today.
The tussock now began to give way to trees. A lot of manuka with it’s peely bark. These trees bring back pleasant memories from my childhood days on the farm in the Hutt Valley. Manuka also makes excellent firewood.
A lot of sandy sections on this part of the track. We passed some interesting huge rocks. As I mentioned earlier today’s section was a long 27 kms.
“As I mentioned earlier today’s section was a long 27 kms.”
THE FINAL STRETCH
Tender Feet And Unusual Trampers
After 25 kms the soles of my feet began to feel tender. This may have been because of my damp socks, which soften the skin. So I put on a light pair of sneakers, which we were told to carry to wear in the huts at night to keep the floors clean from mud. What a difference in balance wearing this footwear! Even with my pack weight I felt far more nimble and sure footed crossing a small stream. However, in light footwear like this, feet do squirm around more on uneven surfaces and can easily lead to blisters. The rigidity of a boot is best long term. Graham the ranger told me that he once found a Chinese man walking the track bare foot. He made it to the first hut but had a bandage around one foot. There was also a young Japanese man who carried a guitar, even though it was raining, and asked for permission to walk the track naked. He told him he had to at least wear his underwear, otherwise he would frighten the natives.
“He told him he had to at least wear his underwear, otherwise he would frighten the natives.”
MCKAY HUT OVERLOOKING THE COAST
A Spectacular View And A Noisy Night
Finally we arrived at McKay Hut. This hut is sited high up on the mountain ridge and looks out to the West Coast, far below in the distance. You can even see the spectacular white foamy waves of the tumultuous mouth of the Heaphy River, where it enters the ocean. That’s tomorrow’s walk of 22 kms.
This modern hut was half full of strangers. Some had come from the other direction. There was a snowy white haired, middle-aged man from Belgium and his wife. Very quiet couple. He had even brought along a large bottle of wine. From tomorrow onward Raymond would jokingly call him “the Belgium Snorer.” He slept near Raymond and snored extremely loudly for about an hour until his wife awoke and prodded him and he turned on his side. It might have been the wine perhaps. That was the only snoring we heard on the whole trip, despite sleeping about 12 a night in the huts. It would appear that physical fitness greatly reduces the snoring problem. My past experience of communal sleeping with mostly unfit Church members indicates that about 50% of men have this problem, most of them of portly build.
“You can even see the spectacular white foamy waves of the tumultuous mouth of the Heaphy River, where it enters the ocean.”
AN EVENING AT MCKAY HUT
Warm Meals, New Friends And Trail Camaraderie
Before going to bed we had our evening meal. I was getting tired of my dry food so I used one of the pots supplied and made a liquid chocolate porridge from my porridge-milk powder-chocolate chip mix. Raymond shared it with me.
I walked around the hut in my damp socks for a while, to try and dry them more, but they quickly became caked in mud on the bottom due to the dirty floor, so I had to wash them out. Back to square one. Graham the ranger I spoke to this morning told us that this was the best hut to hear and see kiwis. He advised us to drag our mattresses outside on the verandahs and sleep there. We had planned to do this, but the cold wind made us change our minds.
Nice camaraderie again in the hut before bed, but the personality mix wasn’t quite as stimulating as last night. A bit packed also. In all the huts there always seemed to be somebody brewing tea or coffee. You would constantly hear the dull roar of the gas cookers or the clicking of the spark generators along with conversation. The Belgium Snorer also had a gas lamp that provided more light than the blue LED torches that were common (Raymond and I had three between us).
Angelique smilingly showed us her swollen knee and large blisters. If it had been Marie I think I would have asked the ranger to order in a helicopter. We didn’t see this couple again after this night’s stay. They may have remained an extra night in this hut.
“Nice camaraderie again in the hut before bed”
David & Noel Coory · Heaphy Track Walk
9th to16th Feb 2004
Heaphy Track Walk New Zealand · Original travel diary preserved
Heaphy Track Walk New Zealand · Original travel diary preserved