By Markus Milne
Party Members: Markus Milne, Barry Wybrow, Arthur Blondell, Andrew Powell
Please note: Original photos are unavailable, as trips were completed prior to digital cameras.
Ivory Lake Hut remains this elusive gem in the heart of the Southern Alps. Now an Instagram must do for many, back in the late 1990s, it was a place that got passed down through tramping folklore as a challenge only a relative few achieved. And so it proved for us. In the absence of digital cameras, there are no pictures, just distant memories of sweat, tears, hard yards, places, events and friends.
Trip #1: Up the Waitaha?
Ugh . . . no. Memories of this first trip remain a distant blur, and after memory racking for weeks, little has emerged except there was lots of rain. Back then, we entered via the west bank road end (true left) of the Waitaha, made our way to Kiwi Hut and onto Moonbeam Hut.
From there the weather blew out and we were trapped in Moonbeam for two more nights, shortly after which we exited the same way extremely soggy with our tails between our legs. Somewhere between Moonbeam and Kiwi Huts, we met the legendary king and queen of New Zealand tramping – they were up the Waitaha track trimming, each wearing a pair of tevas!
Trip #2: An Add-On?
A big trip with grand plans. With Chris Cowan from Coastwide, we flew into the Evans Glacier below the Bracken Snowfield in the head of the Wanganui from the Totara Valley road end. The ideal plan was to access the Bracken Snowfield, get to Erewhon Col, and maybe climb Mt. Whitcombe. We’d missed out on the Bracken Snowfield on a previous trip up the Whitcombe due to poor weather. This time proved equally doubtful, but we cached unnecessary food, and made our way up the glacier to spend a night in Full Moon Saddle. The weather failed to clear so back down we came, repacked our food supplies, and boulder-hopped and pack-hauled down the Evans River to Vane Stream, onto Smyth Hut, and a mandatory soak in the hot pools.
From here, and the next day, we could cross to the County Hut via the Smyth River and Bradshaw Creek. The Smyth proved hard going with plenty more boulder-hopping, pack-hauling, and scrub bashing. Twelve hours had elapsed, and we were still short of Bloomfield Creek and the hut. Worse, having reached the creek we couldn’t find the short track to the hut from the County Stream onto the terrace. It didn’t exist! Well, it was truly hidden.
In the dim evening light, already well-knackered from the day, we were reduced to seeking out old permolat markers in the mossy overgrowth. With only six to eight parties a year visiting the hut, and mostly flying in, no one was using it. It took us another two hours to get to the hut! After a late dinner of cold food and tomorrow’s lunch, we collapsed into bed around 10pm. The next day was deemed a rest day. But after a late sleep in and a mosey about, we got bored and decided to use whatever hut tools we could find – bowsaw, axe, grubber, spade, etc. – to open up the track back to the stream and to build a monumental and unmissable cairn on the riverbank. Some rest day.
Day Five we headed for Top Waitaha Hut via the Bloomfield Range. Another long day that was mostly uneventful, apart from a tricky down climb on the descent from the main ridge. We decided to use the rope to lower packs. While doing so, a spooked and rather able chamois skittered out of its bed and bounded over us and away down the steep stones. If only mountain travel were so simple.
New Year’s Eve and we were nicely ensconced in Top Waitaha Hut. So far, we hadn’t seen a soul and the weather was holding nicely. The next day we’d be at Ivory Lake. Such thinking was quickly scuppered with that evening’s mountain radio schedule – Ivory Lake Hut was full and overflowing with people camping outside. Some trampers had even flown in for New Years! No! It was Y2K, the new year 2000, and the world was going to explode. Did we really want to spend our day up there with the madding crowds? We headed down the Waitaha.
Trip #3: Try Again
This time we decided to go later in the summer. February would be more settled weather, we’d have a better chance of making it, and hopefully fewer folk would be there. We’d try another route too, via Prices Basin above the Whitcombe. This time we’d have a familiar track to follow. We’d previously been through the Whitcombe to the pass, veering north through the head of Cattle Stream and the South Mathias, Canyon Creek, circling back through Mathias Pass and the head of the Hokitika and Frew Biv.
Day One saw three of us arrive at Frew Hut from the road end. A lonely fisherman was in residence, who claimed some luck and buried his fish in the river gravels to keep it fresh before he planned to walk out the next day. We had good weather that second day and made our way to Prices Flat with its two huts, the old historic one largely unused and the newer one, and onto the bridge over the Whitcombe and to Wilkinson Hut. On this occasion, Wilkinson Hut was a pleasant event. We once had a cold, very wet, and soggy lunch stopover before going to Neave Hut to spend a couple of nights sheltering from the rain.
Day Three brought us to new ground, where we battled the riverbank and an overgrown track for a couple of kilometres to find the odd marker to Pahlow Creek. We then trudged up the creek bed and up to a precipitously steep wall under Mt. Van Redan with no likelihood of escape. As the guide suggested, there was no turning right under the wall that led us up a scrubby ramp and onto the ridge. We couldn’t see into Prices Basin yet, but made our way up the ridge.
At this point the weather was looking ominous. The sky began to darken to ever increasing shades of grey and black, until it started to rain, then hail and then sleet. The hut remained undisclosed until we dropped sufficient height, after which it proved a beacon to straight-line in the deteriorating weather. Three days down and we were within a day of Ivory Lake. All we needed to do was get on the Wylde Brown ridge, access Pt 2056 and drop down to the lake.
It wasn’t meant to be. We awoke to snow on the ground, snow flurries in the air and then a white-out. As a result, we spent the day confined to the hut in sleeping bags reading the hut book (an A4 notepad which went back to 1969), which included pages and pages of some French guy’s meditations from spending weeks in the place.
The next day was looking a little better and now being day five, we started to ration food. Walking back out was a three-day event. Carrying on over the tops to Ivory Lake and out down the Waitaha was equally a solid three-day event, which seemed a bit reckless. We caught the mountain radio schedule that night and posted a request to get flown out. Next morning we heard the chopper and Bruce Dando landed right next to the hut, stepping out in gumboots and a Swani.
What did we want to do? The sky was bright blue and the storm had cleared. We were torn, but knew we had to play it safe. Bruce could ferry us down to Prices Flat, and then get us out to the road end after a couple of other jobs. He could take one person and three full packs, and then the other two to even up the loads. The three packs and Arthur went first. In the silence after the chopper headed down into Whitcombe, we stood in the snow dressed in our gear with only parkas. Barry looked at me, “What if he doesn’t come back?” We’d dropped an absolute clanger. Bruce thankfully showed up ten minutes later.
Trip #4: Never Give Up
Another year, another go, another route. This time we’d try the Tuke. From the road end at Totara Valley, we’d head up past Mikonui Flats Hut and on up to Dickie Spur Hut where we had spent the first night.
Day One was uneventful, and so proved Day Two, dropping down into the Tuke and heading up to Top Tuke Hut. No one was to be seen. On Day Three, we needed to access the tops via Mt. Beaumont and follow ridges to Ivory Lake. The tops were clagged in and we were whited out, but it wasn’t windy. After Beaumont we followed the compass along the ridge leapfrogging each other to maintain the bearing.
In the gloom, Barry came to an abrupt halt. What’s the problem? He was staring into an abyss. A step further and he’d have had an accelerated ride into Ivory Lake. We were at Pt 2084 – the ridge had ended, this bearing had ended, and it was time to take a right-hand turn. By Pt 1870, we could make out the lake and the ridgelines dropping down to it. We met a party heading out and no one prior had been in the hut for days. What a dream location. We had finally made it. We relaxed and enjoyed the late afternoon sun. The weather was holding.
The next day brought absolute bluebird skies and despite it being a dedicated rest day, we decided to tackle Park Dome – a straightforward and popular day trip for those who have time. It provides stupendous views overlooking Mt. Evans, The Red Lion, etc.
Day Five saw us heading back out, backtracking our route via Pts 1870, 2084, and Mt. Beaumont. Instead of heading into the Tuke, however, we dropped into the head of the Cropp via the tussock basins northeast and made our way down river to camp the night at the site of the old Cropp Hut (destroyed by flash floods in 1995). The next day we searched out the overgrown track that used to lead down to the old hut from the tussock benches around from Noisy Creek. It was a familiar fight looking for old permolat track markers and trying to bash uphill through overgrown scrub.
We eventually emerged into the tussocks and headed round past the rusting tin of the old Noisy Biv. Whilst camping in the head of Noisy Creek under Mt. Bowen, we spotted a pair of blue ducks and chicks. Yet again, the weather held. Tomorrow we’d have been in the hills a full week, and apart from the group we met while going into Ivory Lake, we hadn’t seen anyone. We climbed Mt. Bowen and headed out past Mikonui Spur Biv and down the overgrown track to the Mikonui, then out to the Totara Valley road end and the car.
Over the space of about five years, we’d come to Ivory Lake from pretty much all four main points of the compass, finally relenting and allowing us in from the North. What fantastic country to explore, what fantastic huts and bivs to visit, what fantastic adventures we had, and what fantastic memories we made. Failure has its own rewards, never give up trying.
Waitaha River; Photo credit: davequested, https://www.flickr.com/photos/davequested/6974575016
We’d love you to be part of our Love Our Public Huts and Tracks campaign. If you have a special hut in mind you would like to visit this November, you can now register your trip on our web page.
We’ve also set up a Love Our Huts Facebook page for everyone involved to connect and share the love for our huts.
