We woke early this morning although probably no earlier than any other
morning, a fact I wish were different, but aging bodies will be as they are.
After breakfast we wandered over to the Acheron Accommodation House, a better
restored cob structure that was once an important stopover station.
From 1862 when the building was constructed, sheep raised in Nelson
province were driven to the Canterbury saleyards until the 1900s. By the time
the drovers reached the Acheron River they would have been travelling for
several days. One more day would get them across the Jollies Pass into Northern
Canterbury. In those days a bed and a meal cost two shillings and horse feed
one and sixpence. At the time drovers earned five shillings per day. Modern
stock transporters eventually took over and the Acheron Accommodation House
fell into disuse.
Until recently the Angus and Hereford cattle on Molesworth were mustered
into Bush Gully then driven in mobs across Jollies Pass to Hanmer Springs, Now
cattle are sold directly from the Tarndale yards nearby and freighted out by
truck.
Today, just as the campground at the Cob Cottage, the Department of
Conservation offers camping at $6 per person per night with little more to
offer but water on a central tap, water in the river below and unisex long drop
toilets, one to a dozen or so campers. The road is closed to the public after 7
pm so there is no road noise or dust through the evening.
This morning I woke to the call of the endangered Banded Dotterils,
bellbirds and a medley of others who live all about. After breakfast we wandered
up the short loop track behind the House and to a lookout from where one can
has views both up and down the Clarence River. Back at camp, we finished
packing up and headed off across the Clarence on the narrow wooden bridge. Below
the waters raged as they had all the way down the Acheron yesterday; we
imagined that the Clarence downstream of the confluence would be far wilder
than when my parents rafted down to the
sea a couple of years ago, but perhaps not. We decided they were braver than
us, even in their very senior years.
From here the road turns west and follows the Clarence upstream, into
countryside enjoying better rainfall and resplendent in lush summer growth; pine
wildings and bright yellow broom, neither welcome growth to the pastoralists
but evidence that perhaps the government’s pockets are not as deep as we
reckoned on yesterday.
Here, even more so than yesterday, are the obvious pylons taking power
from South to North, the raison-d’etre for these roads constructed only forty
years or so ago, even if the shape of the routes existed for a more than a
century before, and even far longer if one considers the tracks the Maori used
as they travelled over the inland routes for pounamo or greenstone in by-gone years.
The dust was more of a problem today than yesterday when the roads were
still mildly damp from the rain of the day before. Today the dust seeped up
through the cracks and inside the rear storage box, but this is all relative.
For us who have travelled about Australia, the filth was minimal.
We reached the Jack’s Pass junction, and turned south up through the
gentle valley to the Pass at 800 metres ASL, before descending very steeply
down, far down to the alpine spa village of Hamner Springs, which sits at an
altitude of 385 metres ASL. The gravel road travelled on over the past couple
of days has been quite good, but the road down to the village, the corrugations
were quite hideous. Yet despite this, the majority of the “traffic” passed were
cyclists undergoing some kind masochistic torture.
Down in Hamner Springs, we joined the thousands of tourists and holiday
makers gathering to take the waters. Long queues lined the main street waiting
for the pools to open. Even before we were reminded of the entry fee, we agreed
that it would be cruel to inflict such madness on ourselves.
Surely they should
pay us to subject ourselves to the splashes and cries of pool madness? Instead
we found the small supermarket and purchased a copy of the Christchurch Press and a loaf of artisan bread for
lunch. But before we indulged, we drove as close as possible to Conical Hill
and took the hour long walk to the summit up through mature exotic plantations
of Lawson’s cypress, Japanese cypress, Giant fir, Atlantic cedar and laburnum,
all planted around 1910. At the summit there is a shelter from where one has
glorious views over the village to the mountain ranges to the south beyond the
Wauau River valley. The track zigzags up the hill through the trees and today
was busy with families and couples, the fit and the fat, the old and the young;
a cross section of the holidaying public.
Returning to the camper we travelled up into the Hamner Forest Park
accessed via the Jollies Pass Road, the alternative route across to the
Clarence Valley but one now only suitable for 4WDs. The Forest Park covers an
area of 13,000 hectares, is managed by DOC and offers a huge range of tracks
for both cyclists and walkers. After we dined on our delicious bread, we set
off for a sedate half hour walk along the Forest Amble, a charming walk which tempted
us to seek out further walks for the morrow.
It was mid-afternoon when we pulled into the NZMCA Park about eight
kilometres south of the village, already busy with fellow members taking
advantage of the secure spot at a modest fee. I checked the temperature while
preparing dinner; it was 31 degrees!
Chris spent some time sorting through the lockers and storage boxes,
ridding them of the built up dust as far as possible. A vacuum cleaner and
running water would have come in handy; a small hearth brush had to do. The
number of campers in this space beside the road has doubled since we arrived; a
popular camp indeed.
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