Fastpacking from Lewis Pass to St Arnaud

Last year I fastpacked a beautiful route from Lewis Pass through the Nelson Lakes to St Arnaud over the course of an evening and 2 days travel.

The first night was a brisk jog through dark forests of Cannibal Gorge. I arrived late to an empty Ada Pass hut, but the fire brought some warmth.

The next day I crossed Three Tarns pass with magnificent alpine tarns, and descended into the remote feeling Matakitaki valleys. There was a lot of treefall in the upper valley, but after reaching Bob's Hut and turning up the East Matitaki valley things slightly improved.

After what felt like a long hot day slogging through bush and river, I reached the upper valley headwaters of the East Matakitaki, looking up to D'Urville Pass. It was about 5pm.

There I bumped into a woman who was setting up camp for the evening. She had crossed from Blue Lake Hut that day. It turned out to be Tara Mulvany who was near the start of her 4 month Southern Alps Traverse.

I scurried along as I needed to get to Blue Lake hut by that evening. Through the soft snow of D'Urville Pass I could see across to Thompson Pass. These mountains had a wild yet gentle feel to them.

Late afternoon at the Thompson Lakes and more stunning views across to Waiau Pass which was crossed at dusk, while looking over the waters of Lake Constance.

I descended to Blue Lake Hut for a late dinner of Radix cooked over the meth-spirit cooker. It was a great 14 hour day covering 48km from Ada Pass Hut to Blue Lake Hut. 

The 16-bunk hut was completely full so I had to sleep on the wooden floor! Fortunately someone borrowed me a sleeping pad.

Next day after meeting some of the hut occupants I crossed Travers Saddle and ran all the way out the Travers river to St Arnaud. It was much longer than expected, but at least it was flat.

 I arrived in St Arnaud around 4pm, a slightly shorter day of 8 or so hours, covering 45km thanks to the mostly flat runnable trails.

I enjoyed the contrast of days, starting from wild & remote Matakitaki region to the well trafficked and sociable valleys of Nelson Lakes. As the Nelson Lakes area was my first experience of South Island tramping it will always have a special place in my heart.

As I stumbled into St Arnaud, the Loop the Lake race had just finished, and some race marshalls graciously offered me some left over filled rolls.

I booked into the backpackers, enjoyed dinner & an All Blacks rugby match at the pub and hitch-hiked back to Lewis Pass the next day with my dorm room mate John from Christchurch. 

But first John had to tick off a few other Wild Things running club challenges to get extra points for the leaderboard. I was happy enough to sit in the cafe drinking some sweet drinks.

How to Go Fastpacking

What are your goals when you head into the hills? Are they to enjoy freedom of movement through nature? If so, how can you maximise your enjoyment of that movement?

For me, the answer is to search for the lightest way to thread through the mountains. This has led me to explore different gear and strategies than are normally taken, to move as lightly as possible.

Even if the terrain is so rough that you cannot run, the lighter you can go still allows for a faster walking speed on all terrain, less time spent stopped resting during the day, and less muscle impact so a quicker recovery time overnight. That means you can cover more ground in less time.

Fastpacking is the name given to that hybrid activity of trail running and ultra-lightweight tramping. It's very popular in America and Europe owing to well-developed trail infrastructure, and is slowly taking off in NZ, particularly along the Te Araroa trail.

Every piece of gear that you bring needs to be examined and optimized. A ruthless & analytical attitude needs to be taken. That applies to footwear, clothing, sleeping, food, water.

The first question is, do I need this? Nothing weighs nothing. The next question is, is there a lighter option available that still meets my basic requirements? Many savings can be made without spending top dollar. If you’re going to invest in anything, it would be a compact sleeping bag. This in turn enables a smaller pack size.

Now I will describe the gear I used on a 6-day fastpacking trip from Arthur’s Pass to Aoraki/Mt Cook village that worked for me. Adapt these ideas to your own packing style & preferences.

Footwear

La Sportiva Bushido II trail shoes (305g) are robust on rocky terrain, scramble well, and rigid enough to accept crampons for simple snow terrain. Bridgedale waterproof storm socks keep my feet warm on icy river crossings and travelling through wet snow.

Clothing

Pick a good forecast so you can get away with fewer clothes but adapt to the forecast so you can still handle an unexpected storm. I use a Macpac Eyre T-shirt, Macpac hooded Prothermal, Macpac Nitro mid-layer, Macpac Tempo rain jacket. For legs, Macpac Fast Track shorts have handy waistline pockets and stretchy Macpac polypo/elastane long-johns to pull over shorts when it gets cold. Thin Macpac Dash leather gloves for scree & snow. Macpac Visor cap and Julbo Monte Bianco sunglasses.

Pack

A new Macpac 15L vest-style pack designed for fastpacking. Integrates features from trail running vests into a pack large enough for multi-day trips. Large pockets on side and front mean all your food and devices are within hands reach so you never have to stop. This also makes it well balanced for running, with your gear well distributed around you.

Water

2x 500ml soft flasks in front pockets – I add GU electrolyte tablets to one and keep fresh water in the other. Easy to fill up in streams and never carry excess water like you do with a large reservoir.

Sleeping

Macpac Firefly 200 ultra-light sleeping bag (370g) with compression stuff sack (46g). The lightest setup I have found, as there are no zips and contains high quality down, yet still plenty warm enough for sleeping in huts in summer, especially with a fireplace.

Poles

Black Diamond carbon distance Z poles (284g) – these fold into thirds, attach to the front of the pack when not needed for scrambling, but I use them for the vast majority and find them extremely helpful.

Alpine

if venturing above the snowline, I bring a Camp Corsa aluminium ice axe (205g), Petzl Leopard FL aluminium crampons with dyneema cord linking system (384g) or Kahtoola Microspikes (372g), Petzl Sirocco helmet (170g). If simple glacier travel is involved, 10 metres of 6mm dyneema cord, harness (120cm dyneema sling + 1x locking carabiner). Ensure you have adequate experience for alpine terrain if taking minimal gear.

Food

Radix dehydrated meals –  high fat content from coconut oil means lots of calories for less weight. Bring 2 of the foil packets (breakfast + dinner) and re-package all others in compostable bags to reduce trash on the trip. Other food items include fruit leather, salted nuts, jerky, crackers, dehydrated hummus, home-made energy bars, GU Roctane powdered fuel mix, chocolate milkshake powder (premix milk powder, cacao powder, sugar in a compostable bag). As the intensity on a fast-packing trip is in the ultra-endurance category, fats and protein are as important as carbohydrates to provide the amount of calories necessary for long days and for overnight recovery.

Cooking

Aluminium 450ml pot (50g), Home-made Methylated spirits coke can cooker (10g), plastic bottle of methylated spirits (30ml per person per day). 1 tablespoon of methylated spirits heats up 2x 450ml pots of water for a dehydrated meal & hot drink. However, most huts have a fireplace and a billy or pots which you can use to heat water, so it may well be possible to leave all cooking gear behind and still enjoy a hot meal – just do some research!

Eating

Instead of a bowl or cup, I eat all my meals from 2 Radix pouches. I assign one pouch for salty (soups, dinners) and the other for sweet (tea, coffee, chocolate milk, protein shakes, breakfasts). These are easy to clean by adding some water and shaking them around. Seal and fold the top and it makes a great shaker for powdered drinks!

Electronics

Phone, doubles as topo map (NZTopo app) and camera. Petzl Actik Core headlamp (6-450 lumens), USB-rechargeable. To charge these, a compact Cygnett 5000mAh battery bank (110g). Coros Vertix GPS watch helps with navigation and has incredible battery life - I GPS tracked the entire route on UltraMax longevity function and the battery lasted the entire trip with 60 hours of GPS tracking.

Emergency & Miscellaneous

PLB, first aid kit, SOL bivvy bag (130g). Always need backup and shelter even on lightweight missions. Half bamboo toothbrush. Skinnies concentrated sunscreen. Gurney Goo anti-chafe gel. 3m strapping tape. Lip balm.

Final Words

Minimalism is knowing how much is just enough. Be smart and don't cut the safety margins too fine, safety is first, but with all outdoor activities there is a level of risk accepted. The lighter you go, the more risk you are taking, so be sure to acknowledge the limitations of your gear and operate within those boundaries.

There is something beautiful about choosing your own path, like an artist painting a deft red line through a topographic canvas. The variety of different routes between Arthur’s Pass and Aoraki painted over the years by adventurers now lie testament to this. Those early expeditions were explorations of the land, today they become explorations of the mind. What else is possible? 

Joy Amidst Suffering

Asked after a six-day non-stop adventure race through the mountains around Mt Aspiring, “Was it fun?” can only be answered with a certain amount of internal amusement. Such intense experiences in the mountains cannot be summed up into small packages that the uninitiated can easily understand. “Was it fun?” is a difficult question to even ask yourself, let alone explain to another.

The constant battle against the wet and the cold, sleep deprivation, injuries and full-body soreness that comes from pushing yourself to extremes through night and day does not reckon well against the contemporary definition of fun. It’s fun with a time-delay. Days, weeks, or even months later once the memory of suffering has faded, all that remains is something deeply profound.

Joy in the Mountains

But pure fun can be found despite the slog and the suffering.

The bliss of skiing un-tracked powder from Temple Col in Arthurs Pass.

The thrill of swinging an axe into alpine ice with a resounding thunk.

Emerging from a frosty snow cave in the Seaward Kaikouras to witness the sun breaking over the Pacific Ocean.

Topping out on an un-climbed granite wall in the Paparoa Ranges.

Staring out to the Milford Sounds from the summit of Sabre Peak in the heart of Fiordland.

Bum sliding frozen avalanche chutes down the Otira Slide of Mt Rolleston.

The joy of the perfect view from a hard-earned summit.

These moments are great, but it’s the moments that push us out of comfort zones and force us to search a little deeper that make a story worth telling.

Brushes with fatality

Climbing the sheer granite walls of Fiordland, the consequences of an error is no more real. Shaking on a smeary left foot and gripping the shallow flake, my partner carefully selected the smallest cam hanging from his harness and inserted the lobes into the damp, flaring crack. He clipped the rope through the slung carabiner. In the grips of the rock, he was now committed to the move. But one subtle adjustment of body weight was enough to upset the tender balance of climbing rubber traction and gravity. Feet cut, he plummeted.

I locked the rope tight, watching in horror as the cam ripped, and he continued falling out of view until the rope jolted taut. Then silence. Long mumbled groans broke the cold air of the Darran Mountains. He hobbled into view and beckoned me to bring him down, desperate to be lowered to safety. Rolling up his pants, I winced as yellow skin was now stained scarlet. More leg revealed more gore - a perfect V-gash two inches wide, skin stretched open to expose bloody tissue and bone.

Cuts and bruises heal in a matter of weeks or months, but how long does it take to rebuild the damaged mental tissue that comes by the experience of a damaging fall in the mountains?

Death is a reality of life. But does a personal brush against the fatality of the mountains persuade one to give it all up for the safety of something more secure? How close are we willing to step towards the edge before giving it all up? 

I asked a dark figure crunching across the frozen glacier of the Grand Plateau if he had a spare set of batteries; my headlamp had run out. “Sorry mate, only double A’s… the moon’s about to come up, you’ll be right…” I could see the glint of the half moon rising above the Tasman glacier, and thanked them as the pair continued towards the East Ridge of Aoraki/Mt Cook.

As fate would prevail that day, it would turn out to be his last climb. He was an experienced mountaineer, but the mountains had rolled their dice that day. We had planned to ascend our country’s highest peak the following day, but after hearing the harrowing news of this man’s fall, our party of three was now split. Conditions were the best they had been all season. Continue to the summit, or pay heed to the signs?

A decision to be made now or never, mountains will always claim lives and logic says the risk tomorrow is no different from the risk today. The next day, we enjoyed the taste of our country’s highest summit. But it was not without much introspection.

Experience the real New Zealand

We’d spent a perfect winter’s day in Arthurs Pass climbing the steep and icy Crow face of Mt Rolleston. Later, I shared a photo of first rays piercing the jagged horizon as my friends traversed a narrow ice ridge above a sea of clouds; an inspiring scene. Somehow the photo made its way onto Reddit with the title: “Tired of politics? I present the real New Zealand.” Comments flooded.

“Why isn't the rest of New Zealand real? Some place only a tiny fraction of the populace has been is more real than the rest?”

Answers to this valid question were abstract at best.

“Because you're deluding yourself into thinking we're not a tiny population of mountaineers desperately clinging to existence on rugged peaks with very little in the way of proper shelter and sustenance. It's a common problem when people go mountain crazy. They start imagining things like grass, sheep, bucket fountains, political corruption, elections, cities, cars, posts on websites, and houses. You just have to accept that this is all a fantasy you're living out to escape from the harsh reality you exist in. You have to let go of the dreams of an idyllic existence and accept you live on a mountain, and there is only the mountain. You're not reading this, and I never typed it. The reality is, you're on a mountain. Accept reality. Accept the mountain.”

New Zealand is a relatively small country, amassed with a relatively large number of mountain and wilderness areas, yet only a statistical few manage to experience the raw beauty of the hills, let alone understand why others put themselves through such hardship. According to a recent Active New Zealand Survey, the participation rate of tramping is 9.7%, yet for climbing and mountaineering is almost unsurprisingly less than 1%. The pursuit of New Zealand’s high peaks will most likely continue to be a niche sport here – the gear and instruction can be expensive, the dangers are well publicised in the media, and the fun to suffering ratio can be hard to cope with at first.

Navigating the moraine and white ice of the Tasman Glacier in white-out, followed by climbing thousands of metres up loose rock and wet snow certainly drained us and forced us to ask questions, like “Why do we do this to ourselves?” We try to return ourselves an answer, but the reply is drowned out by the roar of another rock avalanche and serac-collapse in the chaotic Hochstetter ice-fall far below.

The summit: a paradigm shift

On the summit, there was a feeling of incredible remoteness and of being at complete mercy to the mountains as the sun glared, rich and golden in the western horizon, glowing through the dense clouds of an approaching storm…

The city that we’d left that morning could not have felt further away. Without exchanging any words, we knew we were experiencing a classical mountaineering moment.