Mount Hector

We woke from a luxurious twelve hour sleep in our campsite by Otaki Forks, already deep in the foothills of the tempestuous Tararua Ranges. When I stumbled out of the tent, I was disappointed. The brilliant sunset had been replaced with a billowing, brewing layer of cloud. Then I remembered the ranges' reputation: the fog mountains, they were. All the more epic for a mountain run!

Camping at the trail start paid dividends, we hit the trail direct from our tenting field. Over the swingbridge and we instantly felt initiated into the ranges. There's not much gentle about the place - a stiff climb greeted us from the offset and didn't relent for several hundred metres of gravel-crusted ascent. Within minutes we were raised from the river-side plateau and were gazing through the gorged valleys of Otaki Forks.

It felt good. Today we were cutting into fresh, mountain blood. There's nothing quite like venturing into a new mountain range; each step falling on virgin trail - we were excited. We soon climbed higher than volunteers could be bothered laying gravel - great-walk no more - a decisive transition into native Tararua forest and the run was now properly rugged. Beech leaves garnished the moist Greywacke, tangled in roots from warped Kamahi and Montane Podocarp. But whatever it happened to be, we puffed and ploughed over it, every drop of energy aimed at sending us higher and closer to the summit. Yes, the deadly Summit Fever was beginning to take hold.

Eventually we crested TiroTiro Knob and emerged out of the bushline to meet Field Hut. No ordinary hut, this was the first hut ever to be built in New Zealand, and is today one of nine hundred and sixty roofed siblings. It was built in 1924 by Tararua Tramping Club for the popular Southern Crossing trip traversing the ranges - the Wellingtonians obviously got sick of bivvying under canvas tarps every night. In a place this rugged I almost don't blame them.

I took a quick geeze through the hut-book to find some familiar faces - Anton Gulley & Peter Luk's small group of hardy AUTC mountaineers had come by this way in the deep snow of August.

We took a quick break to scoff down some Al's Powerbars, thermal up in the chilling weather, then back to the game. The remaining subalpine Beech quickly wore thin and we were running through alpine tussock grasslands. Steering into thick fog with less than fifty metres of visibility, every change in the trail came as a sudden surprise - mostly in the form of a hill. Tough the climb was sporadic not a consistent uphill grind, giving us plenty of chances to stretch our legs over some quick going mountain marshes and the occasional knoll descent.

Now approaching Kime Hut and up to twelve... thirteen... fourteen hundred metres high the wind became ferocious and the rain followed suit, hammering into our thin jackets sideways. We were pretty glad for the shelter at Kime Hut: if I'd been going solo I'd probably have turned back at this point. It was gnarly. If some emergency struck, with only a thermal and jacket I was under-prepared for the harshness of this mountain. So close to Hector that we could taste it, we buffed up and primed ourselves for the last push. We topped and dropped Field Peak blocking us from the summit, then fronted up to the beast himself...

Our blood was pumping with anticipation of summit-dom. Matt led the assault to the memorial cross at the summit, I followed close behind, and swallowed hard when I heard his victory cry of WHAKA YEAAHH!!

HECTOR.

Mount Hector...

Toby was stoked to reach the summit of Mt Hector

The weather was still atrocious at the peak, but our brains now well-marinated in toxic adrenaline - we revelled in it. Summit Fever had finally taken control. The two-metre high memorial cross was larger than I'd imagined - the plaque at its base commerates mountain-men who had died in the Great War. We breathed our last breath of summit, and set off the way we'd came, hoping to not suffer the same fate of those men. Hypothermia on this mountain was a real threat.

Hurrying back to the refuge of the bush

On the descent we passed a large group of school kids, Toby and Matt sprinted past giving them a shock but I stopped to find out they were from nearby Horowhenua College - I warned them to watch their step on this gnarly mountain, but I guess kids around here are bred tougher than in the north.

Opening up the hinds

From there the job was all but done. Once back inside the sanctuary of the bushline we could relax and take shelter within the plush forest again. We sped through the long downhill, enjoying the openness of the bush, and though muddy it was very runnable - a refreshing change from dirty Ol' Waitakeres. Every stride dowhill was a stride towards the warmer valley so we finally dried off and recovered after the pounding at Hector. At last at Otaki Forks we took a more adventurous route to the campsite along the Waiotauru River - with the rain it pushed a strong current that could be lethal with bad footing and a fall. Luckily we survived.

Dry underwear? Not anymore.

Exhausted,  we reflected back at camp on the incredible adventure. Gazing back towards the hills still hidden inn cloud, it was hard to imagine how rough it had been only an hour ago, over a thousand metres above. The Tararuas had proven themselves a foe worthy, and to be taken seriously. In hindsight we were lucky to have claimed the summit and escape unscathed.

Our next mission will be to repeat Graeme Dingle's impressive traverse of the Tararua Range from North to South in twenty-four hours. Scanning along the topo map... for quite some time... we have our work cut out!

With the contagious Summit Fever finally wearing off, we continued our journey south...

Definition: Sum~mit Fe~ver [suhm-it fee-ver] noun

Dillusional mental state experienced at high altitudes, usually experienced while climbing to a geographic high-point.

Symptoms may include:

-Compulsive desire to run or climb up steep hills

-Heightened sweating rate and deep breathing

-Loss of judgement, inability to turn back to base of mountain despite external warning signs

-Rise in frequency of cold head rushes, excitement, elevated heart-rate, extreme alertness

-Increased awareness of how awesome the universe is.

Now you've read the story, watch the short film: Mt Hector - The Movie.

Music: Requiem for a Dream - Clint Mansell

Mt Ruapehu Summit Run

Exams done and dusted, I farewelled my friends in Auckland and began my southward journey: The Big Move - to Nelson. I gathered some mates to join me on my traverse of the North Island, Matt Ogden and Toby Scott. Both excellent orienteers, we were sure not to get lost on the way, and also sure to capture the optimal route to Wellington. I lured them along to the road trip with promise of grand mountains; they weren't disappointed. We were out of Auckland late so we literally didn't stop until we hit the central plateau, where we tasted the sweet volcanic waters of Taupo Nui a Tia.

Arriving late afternoon we were only planning a short jaunt into the Kaimanawa Ranges to the east of the Desert Road... but seeing the snow flaked peaks of Ruapehu from Lake Taupo... oh so tempting... We spontaneously swung a right, and despite the warnings of DOC Turangi, slipped on running shoes at the Top-O-the-Bruce and began the climb up Mount Ruapehu. Inspired by the Swiss machine, Euli Steck, and his mesmorizing speed climb of the North Face of the Eiger, we were spurred on towards the summit.

We were surprised by the volume of snow still lying in the valleys of the northern side of the mountain, but from Iwikau Village we followed the rocky ridges and mostly stayed out of the snow for the first half. Matt separated himself at one point from us trying to take a quicker snowy route up one valley, but found himself faced with some serious rock climbing. Having watched Dean Potter free-basing the north face of the Eiger he decided he wasn't quite up for it yet. 

It was gnarly running up the jagged spurs to the NZAC Alpine hut, but we pushed a solid pace, the fear of impending twilight hurrying us upwards. We gained the hut in a fifth of the time it took me to walk with pack and crampons in winter - such an awesome feeling - running light with minimal gear made the mountain seem so accessible, and with daylight-saving hours our chances of making the summit were looking great. Though lacking an ice-axe, we shot down the self-arresting practice slope with confidence knowing there was sufficient friction between the icy snow and our bare thighs... Phwoarrr.

Still climbing higher into the mountain, the rocks thinned out and we found ourselves trying to perfect our snow-running technique, something you get little practice with in Auckland. The drop into the popular Whakapapa Glacier was too steep to risk without ice axes, so we ascended Glacier Knob - a great route choice, a final surge through the saddle and we burst out onto the spectacular Summit Plateau. 2620m above sea level, we were the highest men on the North Island... Achieving our goal in just over eighty minutes, our minds were blown - on top of the world! Believe it or not, this was Matt's first mountain experience. He'd been reluctant to try his hand at trail running, he felt naked without a map in hand. But now, he was convinced. A mountain running convert, to the rush of running high above the clouds...

The late evening mountain breeze was picking up so we didn't hang around - a quick reccie up Cathedral Rocks peak and over to breathe in the tangy aroma of Crater Lake, before striding down the hospitable Whakapapa Glacier. Landing into soft snow on the way down made it feel inviting to heel-strike; Matt Ogden fell into this trap and felt the burn on his shins later. Toby meanwhile mastered the forefoot glide across the snow. We lost our height half the speed that we gained it, and soon we felt the pounding transition onto the jagged rocks again. Mist rolled up the valley, and stripped away our visibility - this made it difficult to pick the best route down; too lazy to get out compass or map I just winged it - and paid the price. I ended up approaching the ski-field village from the west, and so gifted myself a few extra valleys to climb up and over before joining the others at the car.

 The terrain here is remarkably rugged and its no wonder some of NZ's top mountain runners gather in December to run the GOAT, a 21km race around Ruapehu's crustiest flanks from Whakapapa to Turoa. Unfortunately I'll miss the race this year, locked away in the mountainous surrounds of Nelson. 

Route to the Summit
Green - Fast, Red - Slow

Running to the Summit Plateau of Ruapehu was an incredible experience. For an area renowned mainly for the Tongariro Crossing, a trip that is only really worth doing in the snow, I'd recommend more people to have a crack at climbing Ruapehu. Given some basic mountain experience and skills, the summit is easily attainable and makes for an awesome day out. Enjoy the film below to the sound of Radical Face - 'Welcome Home'.

Ruapehu - the Movie

Mokoroa Falls & Goldies Bush

After a hard day's work studying Thermo-Fluids, Gene Beveridge, Tom Reynolds and I decided to take on some fluids of our own: the Mokoroa stream bash.

Tom approaches Mokoroa Falls

Nestled in the outskirts of Muriwai, the Mokoroa - Goldies Bush route is a solid circuit for an afternoon's bash in the bush.

The descent from Constable Road to the stream has been upgraded so it is no longer as gnarly as it once was, and is now a sedate gravel bash unfortunately. Confusingly, to head up the Mokoroa stream from the junction, you turn right. The track loops underneath the bridge heading along the Goldie Bush Walkway.

Now the fun begins.

Gene and Tom were both repping the Inov-8 X-talon 212, a sensible choice as the track was greasy from the rain. Meanwhile I was left slipping through their hoofprints in my sleek pair of New Balance Minimus. I really like the Minimus trails, and even in the slippery conditions they forced me to keep my balance by other means; increasing my cadence and using the trail to my advantage. Basically grabbing onto trees and plants to avoid shooting off on a tangent into the stream!

 Along the upstream journey there were about ten crossings of the Mokoroa, some at rocky sections like the one above. The rock was covered in a devious layer of stream-grime. The crossings were OK today but after heavier rain they can quickly become raging torrents and can make the route pretty treacherous. I reminisced about travelling up this stream in the summer of 2010 during a midnight rogaine event; navigating was definitely easier in the day time!

Start and finish at Constable Rd (far left)

Left: Mokoroa Falls from the viewing platform.   Right: Tom charges down the muddy Goldie Bush track

The Goldies Bush Walkway was a mud-fest, luckily it was a downhill so we let gravity take care of business down to the bridge. All that was left to finish is the uphill grind to the car, a humbling experience, I let the stairs finish me off, and felt smashed at the top. A very decent track, and a quality low-key adventure. I especially loved the Mokoroa stream route - high adrenaline stuff when done at race pace, and a lot of tricky terrain to negotiate. Get out there and give it a go! This run would be paradise on a hot summer's day.

The entire run took us about 70 minutes. The upcoming Speight's West Coaster adventure run takes in this section as part of the Marathon event, starting at Bethells Beach on 26th November. Including the Te Henga trail and a lap of Lake Wainamu, this race is a real challenge - good luck to the brave!