A Dangerous Business

Date: 19th January 2024

Start: Alpine Lodge, St Arnaud (km 1967.9)

End: John Tait Hut (km 1992.5)

Distance Travelled: 24.7 km

Total Distance Completed: 1832.5 km

Song Currently Stuck in Head: Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil

Weather: just generally garbage

11 hours in civilisation is all I will get. Despite no change in the weather since I arrived in St Arnaud yesterday, it’s best that we start our tramp through Nelson Lakes National Park today. Our aim is to get over Waiau Pass on Sunday when there looks to be a short window of good weather to cross over. That unfortunately means a lot of today’s walk will be in the rain.

First things first, we went back to the lodge’s restaurant for breakfast where I spoiled myself with a full cooked breakfast and two coffees. I’ve definitely noticed myself becoming more of a coffee snob in recent months despite my lack of knowledge on how to make them. Perhaps that’s a new skill I can learn back in Australia. The flat white and cappuccino I had were passable; nice but not spectacular.

After brekkie we had to say farewell to Matt. His dad was coming over from Melbourne to walk with him to Boyle Village and would therefore be walking a different slower itinerary to us. He was still hoping to push all the way to John Tait, but I didn’t expect him to. The three remaining members of our party (plus a surprise Callum who’d managed to get a coach and hitch from Nelson to here in a couple hours) walked down to Lake Rotoiti and began walking along the lake on a very well manicured path.

The morning was merciful. Including the nice path, the rain stayed away for the most part, only lightly drizzling on occasion. The overcast conditions also kept the temperature and sweat content low.

There were a couple mildly rough moments that were easily crossed, the 3 hour trek to the first hut taking us 2.5 hours. Oh DOC and your time estimates, never change. No seriously, don’t change them, but maybe add a second line for seasoned TA hikers with 1900+ km of experience under their belts.

Callum set off after a quick break to check out Coldwater Hut on the other side of Rotoiti whilst Oli, Melly, and I carried on further up the valley, where we were met by my favourite kind of terrain: soaking wet grass. There go my hopes of keeping my socks dry. Unlike the brush I had to clamber through after Rocks Hut, this was more of the ankle-biting variety, only drenching everything below my shins. Beyond the wet grass, the trail had become a bit tougher, with short steep climbs over slips and hills surrounding the Travers River.

It was still nowhere near as rough as some of the other parts of Te Araroa so we were still going pretty quickly. My thoughts turned to Matt and his dad and how they were getting along. I was sad to have to say goodbye to someone who I consider to be a good friend, but getting the chance to walk with family is a great opportunity. My family is how I got into hiking and my first multi-day trip was with them. I know that opportunities to hike with my parents will become fewer as the years go on, it takes them a lot longer to train and prepare for a hike than me (Eli too, but that’s just because they have the knees of a 50 year old). Hopefully I can have few more grand adventures with them down the road. Perhaps this trail (the Travers-Sabine, not the TA) could be one of them? I’ll have to wait and see how rugged the saddle is tomorrow, and if it’s any good in fine weather.

It took us a little under 4 hours to walk from Lakehead to John Tait Hut. The first two of these hours were done in light drizzle with the occasional lapse in rain and even a bit of sunlight. At 3:30, one of those drizzly showers got worse. Within no time I was soaked. The forest no longer gave any protection from the rain, with large conglomerated raindrops slapping down on my rainjacket and pack cover. My feet were already damp from a few river crossings that couldn’t be rock hopped, and now I let go any hope of letting them dry off before the hut. Many parts of the trail were flooded from the rain, the slopes turning into waterfalls. I couldn’t be bothered avoiding them anymore, wading in and blasting a wake of rainwater behind me. It’s funny, when I did the Milford Track I had to go over MacKinnon Pass in terrible conditions which overwhelmed my waterproof boots. For the rest of that way I whinged and whinged about having to walk with wet socks and feet, hating every single step to the hut. Now here I am not caring about the dryness of my feet in the slightest, sometimes even enjoying the coolness the water provided.

When I saw Melly had her earphones in, I knew she was in hut fever mode and wanted to get to shelter ASAP. Oli, the lovable crazy guy of the group, was simply thriving and did his best to lift our spirits. I wasn’t having it, too tunnel visioned on how wet my clothes were to care about the positives.

With a couple kilometres to go, the rain finally eased up and my eyes rising from looking solely at the ground to the forest and the increasingly swollen Travers River. The trail notes and many DOC pamphlets had warned about how quickly waterways can rise during rainfall but this was the first time I’ve seen it happen in real time. Thankfully the last couple of river crossings were still passable, the final one being bridged over a waterfall.

Right around the corner was the hut, an oasis of dryness in a desert of saturated ground. In a flash, my pack was off, followed by my rainjacket, shoes, and socks.

Inside the hut were a handful of other TA hikers whom I haven’t met yet. A fire had already been lit, so my socks were quickly followed by my way clothes, replacing them with dry ones and hanging up everything wet above the fireplace. Later on I also brought my shoes inside.

Over the next couple of hours, wave after wave of hikers arrived at the hut. Most were only doing the Travers-Sabine circuit, their kit making it easy to identify them as more casual trampers (read: lots of very heavy stuff). During dinner I got chatting to a group of five Aussies doing the circuit who although were all very fit weren’t tuned for long days on trail as we have been. More surprising was what happened when I was brushing my teeth around 8:30. A red rainjacket appeared out of the forest, and a small bag was in front of it. Matt. It couldn’t be anyone else. He’d made it all the way here with his dad. Like a little kid watching his dad walking to the front door coming home from work, I excitedly pointed them out to Melly and went outside to greet them. That must’ve been quite the slog for his dad, but I’m sure he’s very proud to have pushed himself to get here. I didn’t stay up chatting for long, settling down for bed to rest up for what will be a much harder day tomorrow.