Slaty Hut to Rintoul Hut aka Te Araroa LASH Day 11

Have you ever woken up and know you’re in for an amazing day of hiking?

I opened my eyes and saw a brilliant blood red sky as Mother Nature put on a show with a spectacular sunrise. I don’t have a photo because I chose to roll over and go back to sleep for a while. But I turned around with a big smile on my face knowing that the day was dawning clear and there was not a breath of wind, the perfect combination for an incredible walk along the top of the Richmond Ranges.

I finally woke up around 7am and ate oatmeal curled up on my quilt. The sun may be shining and the wind may not be blowing, but a mountaintop in New Zealand is still a cold place to be during golden hour.

I packed quickly and was on my way around 745am. I was lost in thought for the first twenty minutes or so and then I thought I’d look back at the cabin.

Holy shit balls. Usually when you’re in an alpine mountain range, you count the peaks you can see. Here I realized that the current counting method was not going to be individual mountains, but mountain ranges.

It was a real pinching moment. Temukan fdsf2 di sini. I’ve been lucky enough to do a lot of hiking in New Zealand, hundreds and hundreds of days on the trail. I could see that today was going to be up there with the best of those days.

Photos can’t do it justice

I’m not going to lie to you. There will be many photos coming today.

And none of them will come close to capturing the true majesty of the experience during the few hours I spent on the trail. No matter which direction you looked, the views stretched incredibly far and with such extraordinary clarity that it was impossible to capture it all with your eyes, much less with a camera.

I walked open-mouthed as each bend in the trail revealed incredible new angles of even more mountains.

My pace was suffering due to the visual spectacle. My desire to take just one more photo every ten meters may also have contributed.

Basically, I could keep throwing out more and more superlatives and still not convey the sheer amount of emotions I experienced on the most perfect of mornings. Suffice to say, I was quite impressed and was going to soak up every second for as long as possible.

The track remained very easy for the first two hours which was a real plus as I was able to focus solely on the views.

After about an hour I saw the big boy on today’s agenda, Mt Rintoul. It is the second steep peak from the right in the landscape above. Rising 1700m above the ocean, it looked like it was going to be a difficult climb and descent if the topographic map was to be trusted.

One of the big downsides to walking around in tops is being able to see exactly what your day is like. You can see how far you have to hike, and those pesky gaps between the peaks you’re going to climb, and how much elevation you’ll gain and lose throughout the day. I was determined not to let this weigh on my mind (too much) as I continued my hike.

water on top

Fun aside, this was the first day since starting on the South Island that I was carrying any water. I hate carrying water. Like really. I am very against the idea. I know this will bother many of you reading. I am very aware of seeing so many other hikers carrying one, two, and sometimes even more liters when they set out for the day. Internally I shout at them saying that don’t they know that they will cross twelve streams from now to the next cabin? It is a source of constant fascination and anger for me along the way.

Today it is of course a very good idea to drink some water. On my map there are exactly no blue lines between here and the next cabin. And I don’t want to go to the next hut as there is a 400m elevation loss from the main trail. And I don’t need that kind of extra elevation in my life when I’m struggling to survive the necessary ups and downs that the trail is already kind enough to provide me.

So I drank 1.5 liters before leaving camp this morning and kept 600ml in my side pocket. This had to last me until a blue line appeared on the road a few hours from where I started. Throughout the morning it crossed my mind that maybe I should have given in and taken a whole liter.

Anyway, I digress. I continued my slow progress through the beautiful landscape and continued to enjoy the wide perspective.

It was time for one last panorama and then I had to move on, I had hills to climb.

Ups and downs

After a soft start to the day, the track decided to demonstrate why the Richmonds are etched in New Zealand tramping infamy. The promotions and relegations became real. Like really real. Scree came into the equation. For those who haven’t experienced the joy of having loose rock under your feet while climbing a ridiculously steep slope, my general advice would be not to look for it. It can be excruciatingly frustrating to take two steps forward and find yourself taking one step back… for hundreds and hundreds of steps.

The descents were no better. Traction became an optional extra, as the ground simply gave way when you stepped on it. I was very glad for my poles on more than one occasion, as they saved me from putting more than just my feet on the ground.

All too soon it was time to climb Rintoul.

And what a magnificent bald bastard he was. You can see the trail that runs through the center of the photo. A massive descent followed by an equally overwhelming ascent. I really should have drunk the whole liter.

A little (a long) time later I found myself at the top.

The clouds had started to close in by now as it was early afternoon. I went down the mountain and celebrated with a protein bar instead of lunch. I wanted to keep going because the wind was picking up and I still had some distance to go to the next hut, so I swapped afternoon snacks with lunch.

home Sweet Home

Around 3 in the afternoon I arrived at the camp. I had to stop a couple of times on the final descent because my shoes had become filled with small rocks as I slid down the scree.

I drank a lot when I got to the cabin. A couple of liters made me feel like rain. Some DOC workers made some improvements to the cabin and as a result, the campground quickly became a tent city over the course of the afternoon as many hikers arrived at camp. Everyone was tired but excited about the amazing experience they had at Ranges today.

After stretching, getting ready, packing lunch, and drinking like a fish, a fellow hiker who had heard about the weight of my ultralight pack asked if he could try out my pack. The next hour became a spectacle with all the ridiculous things I carry to save a gram here and there, and a healthy discussion about what I didn’t have and what many of the travelers considered essential and impossible to walk without. It was great fun and kept us all entertained.

I fell into my tent in the most satisfied and exhausted way one can imagine at the end of a day like today. Sunset was at 8:30pm and I’m pleased to say I wasn’t conscious.

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