The Plan was to drive up to the end of the Routeburn Road and walk the
first eastern stage of the Routeburn Track Great Walk, and this we did, the
weather arriving as forecasted, low cloud in the early part of the day, soon
rising, or at least as we climbed up into the sunshine. It was about 9.30 am
when we crossed the crystal clear river on the impressive swing bridge, the
first of many we were to cross today, and set off up into the Humboldt Mountains. Foolishly I had seen the
description of this part of the walk from the Routeburn Shelter to Routeburn
Flats Shelter as a gentle amble up alongside the river to the flat area before
the track became more challenging in the mountain stages. Well, certainly a
seasoned mountain climber would probably interpret this stage thus, but it was
not for me. Chris did not tell me that he remembered this as the roughest going
stage of the Track nor did he tell me that the great slash of water plunging
over the mountain was the Routeburn River. But then had I known this, I might
have suggested we return to Queenstown and take in another movie; better not to
know. 
The track was described on the notice board as a “3 – 4 hours return, 14
kilometre walk, a gentle climb on an easy track through beech forest to
Routeburn Flats with a view of the Harris Saddle” and it is that although I had
been blind to the word “climb”. This was a beautiful walk through a spectacular
landscape, and so much easier than Chris remembered it. Most of the streams,
some wild and turbulent were bridged, and those that were not, were dry today.
The birdlife was just marvellous, however when we spoke to others later, they
had not seen as many as we did. Obviously the crowds of walkers had scared them
off, or perhaps the birds simply like to spend the middle of the day enjoying
their siestas. We encountered dozens of Rifleman, the smallest bird in New Zealand
with adults a mere 8 cm high and weighing only 6 – 7 grams. We have been
cognoscente of this bird for some years and often suspected we have seen one or
two in the distance, but today there was no doubt. They were numerous and
obviously themselves, darting about in the lower forest growth feeding on
insects and flitting here and there. We were delighted! 
The Routeburn Falls are beyond the Flat’s Hut, not those as the river
plunges off the escarpment through a narrow gorge. The track climbs steadily alongside
this gorge, not zigzagging with any switch back ease as the track at the other
end above The Divide, but a steady and steep climb. Then at the top, although
the mountain still rises much higher on either side, the track cuts through the
pass, Sappers Pass, then follows the river, now in its upper reaches far more
sedate, although that is all relative. We crossed again on yet another swing
bridge, and were soon walking in a westerly direction across the wide river
flat to soon arrived at the Hut, at an elevation of 700 metres. The northern branch
of the Routeburn River converges with the main river a little below the Hut,
but here both rivers are a more gentle flow, one that would encourage swimming
or wading across to access further side tracks if one has a mind to.
Here at the Hut, this upgraded one opened only in 2008, we sat in the
covered patio area on ergo dynamically designed “barstools” from where we had
superb views up the valley to snow covered peaks. We were soon joined by a
couple of women, mother and daughter, the latter having walked the entire track
just a few years ago and gobsmacked at the over-the-top state of the hut.
Finches, fantails and paradise ducks distracted us from our discussion, but we
were all equally appreciative of the wildlife.
After nearly an hour of rest and dining on our packed lunch, we headed
back and soon encountered a couple of women who had walked the track forty
years ago. “Really!” I exclaimed, “Perhaps you walked it with Chris?” It turned
out that their forty years ago was “forty” and their trip had been frustrated
by snow and mud, whereas Chris and his mate had walked the trip in beautiful
weather nearly forty four years ago. But they both agreed that the “highway”
status of the track distracted from the true tramping experience; the
back-country experience was lost and it was not the same at all.
We had taken two hours on the ascent; it took us nearly two and a half
to return, but then we paused to chat with more than just these past-trackers,
and took a detour nearer the lower end to do the “Nature Walk”. Apart from the
path here being a little less manicured, and certainly less busy, we learned
several interesting facts form the interpretative panels along the way.
Randomly, and surely not the first time I had read:
- Stoats were introduced to New Zealand in 1884 to control rabbits. What were the authorities thinking!?
- The Mount Aspiring National Park, an area of more than 3,500 square kilometres along the Southern Alps, from the Haast River in the north to its border with Fiordland National Park in the south, was established in 1964. It has since been incorporated into the Southwest New Zealand New Zealand World Heritage Area.
And
in a more educational manner, a totally new understanding of forest funghi and toadstools:
·
Each tree, some of the beeches here up to 400 years old, may be associated with many species if
fungus, forming mycorrhizas. Even in forests with only one or two tree species
there can be over 200 species of fungus. The “mushrooms” we see, and those I
have photographed in fascination, are merely the “fruit” from the fungus that
could be as much as twenty metres in diameter, thousands of years old, and
connected to many trees.
The black “mushrooms” I saw on the Kepler Track were “cortinarius sp., the creamy coloured
ones that reminded me of the core board doors with their “weet-bix” like inners are “austropaxillus
nothofagi” and the “albino” mushrooms are “russula sp.”, these last two seen today on the Routeburn as well.
Now that is very interesting, isn’t it!
We also encountered an incredibly friendly and tame South Island Robin,
not the first for the day, but certainly the most curious. This one found
Chris’s boots fascinating and pecked at the yellow points, and hopped around
frustrating my attempts to photograph this gorgeous wee bird. We learned too
that this little bird can live up to fourteen years old, a fact that I found
quite wonderful. They are far too gorgeous to expire after a short and
pointless death as so many creatures do.
Back at the car park, I crawled in to the motorhome and we headed back
to our camp without ado, but once parked up, boots off and hot coffee were the
order of the day. After half an hour I felt normal and was able to debrief with
Chris is a positive way. It had been such an awesome day! We have now walked
ten kilometres of the thirty two kilometres Great Walk, twice, which by my
calculation is 31.125% of the Routeburn, or can we call it 62.5%? Probably not,
since it does not include the more challenging sections.
No comments:
Post a Comment