TO THE WEST COAST

Hokitika Guardian, 16 February 1929, Page 6

TO THE WEST COAST

TRAMP FROAI THE HER All T AGE. (By Arthur 1\ Harper.) Fyle’s Pass (7100 ft), at the head of the Mueller Glacier, lias been crossed several times into the head of tlie Landsborough River, but no attempt has been made to continue through to the West Coast.

In 1594, I with a Maori, explored and mapped the Karangarua country from the West Coast and got into the Landsborough, but did not try to cross to tlie Hermitage. This took us 19 weeks. In 1008. on details supplied by Fyle and myself, Dr Bell, Government geologist, guided by J. Clarke, went up the Karangarua to try and reach the Hermitage, but they failed and returned to tlie coast. Thus no party had made the complete through journey, though [ have often wished to do so.

Tli ree years ago T rashly promised my daughter, who is badly infected with alpine fever, to take .her into the Karangarua “some day,” as it is in my opinion easily the finest river for scenery on the West Coast, and only been visited twice before. That promise was claimed this season, so I had to gird my loins and, as a preliminary step, began to look round for three hefty young men who could be inveigled into carrying big swags! For tlie time lias come when I must treat heavy swags with much more respect than I did 34 years ago! 'Hie search was successful, Messrs S. A. Wiren, of Wellington, who had done a little alpine work, R. Lucas, of Nelson, who had done no climbing, but was injected by the alpine bacillus, and C. Turner-Williams, of Havelock North, the soil of an old school friend, eagerly fell into my trap, and the fifth member was my daughter Rosamond, who was with our Amery party last year and had two seasons’ work behind her. My bargain was a 301 b to 3511) limit for myself, and from 151 b to 201 b for mv daughter. This involved at least oOlh each for the others when we left the Hermitage on December 20 in heavy rain for the Alueller Hut—“ Why start in the rain?” asked the Hermitage visitors. The answer is “Go to your base, whatever the weather, so as to be able to kick off as soon as it clears.” This is contrary to the advice at most centres, but take an old hand’s word that it is sound. OVER FATE’S PASS. All we now wanted were four or five fine days, for bad weather would bo serious in such inaccessible country and to our joy the weather cleared that evening, but for some reason, perhaps an extra good breakfast, we did not leave till 4.30 a.ni., instead of 3 a.m., on the 21st. a serious delay, as it turned out for, instead of topping Fyfe’s Pass at 7 a.m. with hard snow we reached it at 10 a.m. in soft snow, and the extra hard work told on us all dav.

The 2000-foot “get down” from .Five’s can be very nasty, but we found plenty of snow and descended without undue difficulty—in two hours—nt course, we could have done it in two minutes or less, had we slipped, but such rapid descents are not recommended.

The Spence is a weird, narrow defile, bounded by sheer precipices, off which the snow avalanches in early spring and tills the valley with pileg of snow in balls from the size of marbles np to 20ft. An irritating mess to struggle through, but we plugged on till about 3 p.m.j when we got on to some rough grass and morn no hills, and after two more, hours reached the McKerrow Glacier at the head of Landsborough River. Mere were fresh deer tracks to lie seen and many changes since my exploration.

A RARE VIEW. The Spence and McKerrow Glaciers have shrunk over a quarter of a mile in length, making the travelling much rougher and slower. From the McKerrow Glacier a pass leads into the Karangarua, involving a 350 ft to 400 ft climb up steep, but not difficult, rock, which we topped about 7.30 p.m., or five hours behind my estimated time—that good breakfast thus had its revenge! This saddle is generally under fog. mid in seven ascents of it in 1894 1 had only one clear view, but it was the view of a lifetime. Tims it was not surprising to again meet a thick wall of fog, from which, however, we had a unique experience.

There was no wind, just a heavy, pea soup kind of wall in front of us, when suddenly we. noticed it getting thinnei —it did not blow away, hut just dissolved. then came the dim forms of mountains and valley, which gradually got clearer, as through a slowly thinning veil. The effect was intensified by the sun shining on the country behind the veil. It just let us see the great view and then closed up again, as we made our way down over snow grass and amongst boulders to look for a rock under which the Maori and 1 used to sleep. V e did not reach it, but slept, where darkness caught us, on rough hummocky ground with only enough scrub to boil some cocoa. At daylight I went down lor some firewood, made a good blaze, and we had a glorious stew, felt better, packed our swags and on the 22nd started over boulders, down waterfalls and now and then deviating into scrub until at noon, 1200 ft below our bivouac, we reached Christman Flat, at the bead of the Karangarua River, which 1 bad discovered 34 years before almost to a day. From here we began the usual river travelling, which is heavy work and iinquires previous experience to tackle

properly—a billhook is an essential part of one’s equipment. The next three miles consisted of large boulders and gorges varied by short bits of easier travelling and deviations into the bush, requiring generous use of the hillliook to hack a way round impassable bluffs. AYe took it easily, stopping for lunch and for spells to photograph the magnificent scenery, until at 7.30 p.m. we came to a place flat enough to pitch our little tent. This three miles involved five hours actual travelling. To anyone who has not seen these rivers it is impossible to convey any idea of tlie boulders, and I am not exaggerating when I ask you to imagine boulders of evpr.v size up to that of large buildings, piled higgledy-piggledy into a narrow valley—if you can do this you will gain some conception of certain parts of these rivers. 'I he water roars and foams through the obstructing rooks and can rarely be crossed.

THE GREAT GORGE. Some better going through a fantastic gorge and open river brought us by one o’clock on the 23rd to the entrance of the Great Gorge, which deserves a word of description. 'I he rivei descends from this point about 1200 ft.. in a mile and a-balf over two huge cataracts. The south bank to which one crosses here ascends some 200t)lt. or more from .the river in a series o! bluffs and cliffs, with no system of order, among which it would be easy to lose one’s way.

When 1 originally prospected the route coming up the river in the old days, 1 found a high cliff descending right across my line of advance. AVhere it cut the wall of the gorge, however, it was only 20ft. high—hut overhanging. Mere a rata tree on the top had sent down a root to the ground below, and we used this root when going to and fro. It is the only place to get through, so 1 had to find it again. Inadvertently we took too low a line and came on to the river in the gorge ’just below the first cataract —a mistake which, after all, was well worth while, because we were the first people to see this cataract so closely. The whole river drops about . 500 ft over huge boulders piled almost perpendicularly in a grey-walled, rocky gorge. The grandeur is impossible to describe, but it fully repaid loss of time involved.

From here we reascended to our olu lines and kept a high level until dusk, when we reached a rocky shell off which the hush had slipped, just level enough for .five to sleep and have a good fire and meal. AVe could not pitch our canvas. On the 24th, about 11 o’clock, \ve hit the place where my old rata root had been and found it still there, but now grown too large to use, so we brought our rope into play, got down to the ground below and were safely through in fine weather.

Then came a few hours of exceptionally heavy and steep bush before we emerged on to the rivei* below the gorge at 1.30 p.m. The river runs one and a-half miles m the gorge, but the route through involves about twice that distance and took us close on l2 hours bill-hooking through bush and clambering over bluffs. In 1894 it took me three days to find artroute and four hours to traverse it after our rough track had been “ bla«ed.”