We spent three nights at the Waterlea Racecourse, and made most of Blenheim’s
available supermarkets, the Toptown Cinema where we saw both “The Old Lady” with Maggie Smith and “The Water Diviner” by Russell Crowe,
both enjoyed immensely. We filled with water, dumped and top upped with fuel,
called into the local bank and took the opportunity to call on my cousin Jeff
and his partner who have recently moved into their beautiful new property at
Raringi just eighteen kilometres north east of Blenheim on Cloudy Bay. This
morning we caught up with the entire family by phone call or message and left
Blenheim satisfied we had achieved all we set out to do.
It had been our intention to head west to Nelson and beyond, however the
thought of competing with the holiday throngs and the normal sun seeking tourists in that area was all too much and we
decided to delay our trip in that direction until school has returned at the
very least.
Heading south on Highway One, we passed the historic Cobb Cottage, the
many vineyards and cellar doors, all shut today for the New Year’s Day holiday.
We have been through Blenheim several times in the past and called in to the
regular tourist attractions. We had also
driven south on this beautiful stretch of highway that passes over the Weld and
Dashwood passes to the south east, inland from White Bluffs. At Dashwood which
is nothing but a Tomtom navigation point and a crossroad these days; we turned westwards
along the Awatere Valley Road and followed the river upstream, through a wide
fertile valley planted out in vines, today even more numerous than when we last
passed this way at least six years ago. The valley is quite beautiful and apart
from the vibrant colour contrasts, green against the beige dryness of the
background hills, the cliffs carved out by the river over the ages are
spectacular; fluted by the elements, steep and distracting from the road that
narrows the further west one travels.
Our destination, or rather, our plan for the days and those ahead, was
to travel through Molesworth Station, New Zealand’s biggest farm at 180,787
hectares, supporting the country’s biggest herd of beef cattle numbering up to
10,000 over winter. The property ranges in altitude from 549 metres to over
2,100 metres, although the road does not exceed an altitude of 1,347, our own
route not rising above 1,145 metres ASL.
We have travelled this road through toward Hanmer Springs more than
once; once undertaking the complete “adventure” travelling the 207 kilometres
through to Hanmer Springs from Blenheim, then north up through the Rainbow Road
to St Arnaud, the 112 kilometres journey apparently accessible by 4WD vehicles
only. For that we hired an appropriate vehicle at considerable cost and found
that we could have taken our own motorhome through quite safely, however the
warning is there to deter the casual tourist who may have no experience of less
than city or autobahn quality roads. Today Chris and I debated whether we had
come through once or twice since with the motorhome, and although we agreed it
was only the eastern section of Hamner Springs through to Blenheim we had
travelled, the jury is still out on the number of times. Whatever the truth,
there were sections today I could not remember at all, which is such a bonus
against boredom. My parents have travelled the route many times and never tired
of the amazing scenery; I suspect we are following in their footsteps.
Molesworth Station was taken over from a long history of runholders in
1938, amalgamating the original high-country stations of Tarndale, Molesworth
and St Helens. The Dillon Run was added eleven years later. The combined
stations had once run around 95,000 sheep but by the time the Crown took over,
the land was suffering damage from heavy grazing by both sheep and rabbits and
repeated burning of tussock lands. Today Landcorp manage the extensive property
and as we travelled through it was evident that their expertise and deep
pockets have turned the ecological health of the land around, even since we
last came through.
The station is only open to through traffic between about Labour Weekend
in October to Easter which normally falls early in April, although weather,
disaster or the fickle nature of husbandry can alter the opening times. Campers
can stay over in the Department of Conservation camps situated at either end of
the station; the Cobb Cottage at the northern end and the Acheron Accomodation House
on the banks of the Clarence River on the southern boundary, the camps almost
sixty kilometres apart.
The Awatere River Road of almost one hundred kilometres is mostly gravel
and winds its way up and over the steep banks of the river, crossing a couple
of times and offering few stopping opportunities. We stopped at the Hodder
Bridge for morning tea and took the opportunity to enjoy the views and take a
number of photos as you do. We decided to press on to Molesworth for lunch
despite the fact we would be late for our normally prompt lunchtime, and
reached the entrance gate soon after 12.30. We had set off in glorious weather
despite the rain of the previous day, and arrived to find the willows along the
Molesworth Stream bathed in sunshine. The gullies all up the Valley and even
beyond are green with lush willows, a fact that confounds until you understand
that when the European pastoralists arrived soon after 1850, they found few
trees to provide firewood or fence posts and soon planted the fast growing
willow. This European import was an immediate success and has remained so over
the centuries. 
The Molesworth Cob Cottage which marks the spot for the recreation area
and first camping area, is the restored original cob homestead built by John
Murphy in 1866. It was superseded in 1885 by the existing Molesworth Homestead
situated in a hollow discreetly tucked beyond casual view but remains a tourist
information spot, well-appointed with interpretive signs explaining the history
of the place. As we passed through the camp we saw there was only one party
currently set up, although the day would surely bring more.
Nine kilometres on we passed over Wards Pass which is often closed by
snowfalls for long periods. At the Cottage we had learned that the station
suffers an annual average in excess of 250 frosts; news of road closures are no
surprise. From the pass we dropped down to Isolated Flat, a 250 hectare outwash
plain bounded by the Awatere Fault. Everywhere we saw the brilliant blue
flowering borage, daisies, mullein, clover; a veritable feast of glorious wild
flowers. We read that from January to April one might find Gentian flowers on
Isolated Flats, but today was just the 1 January. Imagine our delight to find
the tall white flowers standing amongst the clumps of short tussock and pasture
grass along the side of the road as we came to the edge of the plain. We first
came upon these wonderful blooms in the Cobb Valley in the Nelson District some
years ago and have often spoken of them. Today we were rewarded yet again with
their beauty.
Soon we climbed up over the Isolated Saddle and came down toward the
Severn River, which soon converges with the Acheron River. Our route then
continued along the banks of that river, today swollen with yesterday’s rain,
far more impressive than our memories. We were surprised to encounter more
cyclists than vehicles and remarked that cycling in New Zealand has really taken
on in the last ten years. We also both agreed that you would have to be a
little mad to undertake cycling the road
through Molesworth Station. About thirty five kilometres on we arrived at the
confluence of the Acheron and the Clarence River, which also marks the southern
boundary of the Station. Here is the Acheron Accommodation House, the oldest
building on Molesworth. Constructed in 1862 by cob builder Ned James, it
features a tussock-thatched roof with beech rafters tied with flax, still
visible from inside the building.
Tonight we are camped up on the upper terrace of the DOC camp, not too
far from the long drop toilet, but far enough away if the eco-system does not
entirely remove the aromas. The Ranger has called for the tariff and we have
found he knows my cousin Greg well. Greg works for the same DOC region and we
intend to catch up with him when we pass through his home village. It is indeed
a small world.
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