The snow stake kept the pace in check
We began the day bushbashing along Leader Creek. Our goal was Turner’s rock bivouac, high above the valley.
Our packs were loaded to the max and festooned like Christmas trees. The snow stake strapped to mine stuck out a little beyond the pack. In the dense tangle of trees, it caught almost every branch I tried to squeeze between. Well, it was designed for building anchors, after all. In that little patch of bush, it did its job perfectly.
According to the route description, we were supposed to cross the stream at Leader Falls.
The sight of the rushing water made my head spin. After yesterday’s crossing, I had no desire whatsoever to step back into that treacherous water. But there was no other way.
Luckily, it was only a stream. Much narrower than yesterday’s river. I focused on where to cross and how to reach the other bank.
The crossing went without a hitch.
In the bush, we came across a DoC (Department of Conservation) path used by rangers to service possum traps. It wasn’t an official walking track, but it made the going easier. At last, we could move more efficiently through the tangle.
Handlines in the scrub
Once we left the forest, we came to the bluffs: steep rock steps. They looked nasty and dangerous from below. Only when we got closer did we find a way to scramble up them.
We climbed with heavy packs, without belaying. The exposure was serious. At the hardest points, the cruxes, we found ropes and slings left behind. They were mostly tied to the scrub. We grabbed them and pulled ourselves higher.
I was full of admiration for the people who’d put them there. We found them exactly where they were needed most. They helped us get through the difficult sections much more efficiently and made the passage safer.
Need I mention that, besides the ropes and slings, the scrub also held my snow stake remarkably well?
In the heat, sweat poured off us. The ascent was a slog. When the ground levelled out, we spotted a rock bivouac. Although it was quite good and we were tired, we didn’t use it. After a quick look, we carried on.
Another hour to Turner’s
About an hour later, we reached our goal: Turner’s rock bivouac.
A rock bivouac is a natural recess beneath a large rock. From outside, it looked like nothing more than an enormous boulder. A stone wall partly sheltered the entrance. Inside, it was quite cosy. There was plenty of room for the two of us. We could almost stand up.
The floor was lined with dry hay. I hadn’t expected such luxurious decor.
There was also a handy little window with a beautiful view of Mount Tutoko’s south face. After a whole day of bushbashing and climbing bluffs, you appreciate architectural details like that all the more.
We cooked dinner and talked about the life we’d left behind in Europe.
Ten hours on the move. Almost 1,300 metres of ascent. We were exhausted. We couldn’t wait to settle onto that comfortable hay mattress and stretch our weary limbs.
