16 February 2015 - Lake Wakatipu, Otago

When we woke yesterday morning, we found the forecasted fine day had still not arrived, and instead the day cold and bleak. Our plan was to do yet another part of the Kepler Track, this time the section from the control gates, downstream of the Waiau River toward Rainbow Reach, just an hour or two and then to turn around and retrace our steps.

We drove over to the car park near the river outlet and set off with our lunch and sundry snacks in the backpack, to find the track sign indicating the alternative Kepler Track entry three and a half hours away, contrary to our walks brochure which stated two and a half hours. Undeterred we set off, passing through lovely beech forest and moss covered forest floor not unlike that section to the north along Lake Te Anau. Here too we found a plethora of fungi just as we had on the other section almost a week ago, and dells that seemed more fitting for a world of fantasy than reality.

We stopped after half an hour at Chris’s bidding for morning tea, or more accurately a chunk of Boston Bun and a sip of water. Refreshed, we carried on, at this point not having encountered any other on the track. We discussed the probability that few actually did this part of the track, preferring instead to enter at the control gates and exit at Rainbow Reach, forgoing the “boring flat” bit, the ten kilometres upriver. The track was less untrammelled than that around the lake and the absence of fellow walkers seemed to be proof of our supposition.

A little further on, we met up with a couple struggling with the last leg of their mountain trek. “How far to the Control Gates?” they asked. We told them that we had left an hour before but they were young and fit despite being weighed down by their heavy packs, and should arrive in about half an hour. They also expressed the same opinion about the state of the track through this section, confirming our earlier opinion.

The track mostly followed the river, surprisingly wide and swift, deep and green. We saw anglers fly fishing on the opposite river bank but otherwise the river was quiet, although we were surprised to hear what sounded like waves. The force of the river, eddies caused by the logs on the bottom of the year; there was little invitation to swim.

After an hour and a half, the track sometimes veering away from the river bank, and sometimes heading up onto the higher banks, we crossed sections of regenerated scrub, areas which had perhaps once been grazed by livestock but were now reverting to manuka or tea-tree, and bracken fern. Here too DOC are in the process of doing track maintenance; thirty or so Balance fertiliser bags of gravel having been helicoptered in for the purpose. The weight limit marked on the bags stated 500 kilo; I wondered if a bag full of gravel weighed more than a similar volume of super phosphate.

Walker numbers increased and we asked one couple how far we were from the other end; we were told thirty five minutes and it was still short of the two hour limit we had set for the one way attempt. I assured Chris I could manage and it did seem to be such a shame not to go all the way, and so we did, although I have to admit that I was stiff and sore on crossing the swing bridge to the picnic area at Rainbow Reach.

Here we lunched and checked out the notice boards, and rejoiced at the arrival of the sun, stripping about three layers of clothing off and baring our white skin to the ravages of sun and sand-flies. We learned that a shuttle bus would call by at two thirty to take walkers back up the road to control gates or on to Te Anau, and at regular intervals through the afternoon.

Interestedly one of the shuttles is run by our host, the owner of the yard in which we are camped. But we were not willing to hang about for an hour and a half; I assured Chris I was fit and ready for the return, and so off we went, returning in a slightly shorter time than the trip down. We arrived back at the camper after an absence of five and a quarter hours, having walked twenty kilometres. Enough walking for one day! I made us a coffee before we headed back to our camp, happy to find our space not taken by another, and so passed our last evening in Te Anau watching our Sunday evening regular television dramas.

This morning, summer finally arrived in Te Anau yet we still slept in until late; yesterday’s long walk had taken its toll but happily I felt far less a cripple than yesterday. By the time we had breakfasted and organised ourselves for departure from the excellent little POP made available to NZMCA members, it was about 10 am. We headed for the dump and joined the queue of motorhomes all dealing with the same mundane housekeeping task, then shopped yet again at the local Fresh Choice supermarket and topped up with diesel at one of the three service stations in town. We were sorry to see that the cost of diesel had climbed again after having hit about the dollar-a-litre level; today the pump price was $1.26.

We stopped for lunch at the Scientific Area just east of Te Anau, then continued on through to Mossburn, turning northeast to Five Rivers, crossing over well farmed land to Highway 6, that between Queenstown and Invercargill. The road was busy as we headed up across Jollies Hill Pass, down into the wide valley fed with streams and creeks that all find their way into the Mataura River, that which flows through to Gore and beyond. 

We passed through Garston, last time visited a real has-been place, but now all bright and shiny and excited about the cyclists passing through. It is also the spot where the 4WD road, the famous Nevis Road, heads north east up over the Garvie Mountains and across over twenty four fords or more, over the Carrick and Old Woman Range before descending to Cromwell. We did this route some years ago, alone in contrast to those other crazy motor-homers who go through in convoy. Truth be told, they are less crazy than us! We grounded several times and the fords were crossed only after yours truly had done the wade-through-in-knickers test. Our old trust Mitsubishi Canter coped well but alas now we have “upgraded” to our new camper, the likes of the Nevis must be left to other crazies.

Today staying on the sealed highway north, we noticed the relatively new swing bridge over the upper Mataura River as part of the Around the Mountains Cycle Trail, that still a work in progress. We stopped beside the river and walked back over the bridges, Chris on the cycle trail and me on the road bridge, where I chatted with a fisherman and his wife; she quite happy that such activity kept him out of trouble. As we continued north, with the cycle trail on either our right or left, depending on the whim of the designers, I expressed my wish that we should return next year with our bikes, so much earlier than we managed to travel this year, and undertake all the easy stages of all the trails.

We pulled in to Fairlight, the rail station on the Kingston Flyer vintage steam rail, now defunct but once a popular tourist attraction, a 14 kilometre track between Kingston on the southern shore of Lake Wakatipu and Fairlight. In more recent years the enterprise struggled financially and in December 2012 was suspended due to locomotive problems, too costly to repair. Since then, rolling stock has been sold off and the business put up for sale. Once upon a time, the Kingston Flyer was a passenger service between Kingston, Gore and Invercargill, and sometimes Dunedin, owned by the government Railways Department.  Very recently I have read newspaper reports suggesting the resurrection of the remaining rolling stock between Bluff and Invercargill and somewhere else that does not immediately come to mind. It is a more a question of “watch this space” but the Flyer is certainly not going to run on the tracks once laid through the landscape we travelled today. 

Years ago we stayed the night, with the council or local community’s blessing, adjacent to the station at Kingston. Alas these days Kingston is littered with “No Camping” signs everywhere, most unwelcome and obviously instigated and encouraged by the one little commercial camping ground in the settlement, although in all fairness, they offer a 10% discount to members of the NZMCA. 

Needless to say we were more than disappointed, however acknowledged that this is in keeping with the Queenstown area attitude to free camping; they despise those who are not willing to have their bank accounts stripped of funds and channelled into the town’s coffers. Hence our approach toward the next week or thereabouts in the Lake Wakatipu area is tinged with bitterness and resentment.

But we took advantage of the great body of water stretching to the north, and washed our motorhome; a first for us for this vehicle. I waded into the chilly waters and filled and carted buckets of water while Chris removed the last three weeks grime.

And then with a clean gleaming stead, we headed up the road, just five kilometres and found this charming layby with plenty of trees, a few picnic tables and rubbish bins but little else, apart from several other motor homers who had secured the best level spots before our arrival.

We wandered along the shore, spoke to a few tourists toasting their bodies to a crisp in the hot sun and applauded a few who had plunged into the cool clear lake waters, altogether delighting in our good fortune in finding this wonderful camping spot. 

As I sit here this evening, views of the lake below and beyond, I can see a young family on the pebbly beach. They have lit a small camp fire, despite the fire ban and the two little pre-school blondies are having a delightful time leaping and dancing around the fire while their father tries to catch that one special shot, perhaps one as the child falls into the fire? Hopefully my cynicism is misplaced, for the sake of the children who did not ask to have such silly parents.

Lake Wakatipu is one of New Zealand’s Southern Lakes and one of the most visited by tourists, because Queenstown located on the eastern shore has been heavily promoted as a tourist destination since Adam was a cowboy. Here and nearby, you can snow ski (in the season), water-ski, bungy jump, ride the gondola, paraglide, tramp, cruise the lake on the vintage steamboat, the TSS Earnshaw or eat in the many restaurants on offer. The foreshore of the township is quite charming, so if you are able to find a car park, it is well worth investigating. But if you want to simply eyeball the place and not pay for the privilege of parking your camper wheels, go somewhere else where they are more welcoming. But I say this all before we have arrived for our 2015 trip and maybe, just maybe, things have changed? 

With a length of 80 kilometres, it is New Zealand’s longest lake and with a surface area of 291 square kilometres, the third largest. Like Lake Te Anau it is very deep and has a floor below sea level, with the maximum depth  of 380 metres. (The shore level is at 310 metres ASL.) The Dart River flows into the northern end, where we will head soon, and is drained by the Kawarau River (pronounced Ka-worra as opposed to the North Islands Kawarau which is pronounced Kaworour) which in turns flows into the Clutha at Cromwell as mentioned earlier in this blog.

Tomorrow morning we will head into Queenstown and test the lay of the land. Chris is keen to check whether the Fergie Burgers offered in the busy centre are as good as they were six or so years ago and I am hoping to pick up a few bits and pieces in a few of the chain stores I hope to find in Frankton, the every-man’s suburb of the otherwise tourist Mecca.