Tramping in the Toaroha, Mungo & Kokatahi Catchments, West Coast

| Ticking off Remote Huts |

During the last 15 years or so, Easter is traditionally a time when we try to plan a West Coast tramping trip, when we’re in New Zealand at least. These have generally been based around the river catchments between Hokitika and Hari Hari, but sometimes further afield, as we try to explore and slowly tick off the rugged valleys and remote huts of this region.

From Pt 1251 travel was much easier along a sometimes narrow ridge and broader tussocky slopes. But it soon began to drizzle and we disappeared into the cloud.

This is the view towards the upper Toaroha Valley and Toaroha Saddle, before the cloud dropped.

Some careful navigation and reading of the ground was required to pick the best way beneath the summit of Mt Ross and Pt 1524 without getting bluffed in the mist, but soon we were making our way along the sometimes sheer ridge towards Toaroha Saddle. This is a really stunning section of tramping, and while we did get a few peeks down into the Mungo River and towards the Main Divide, on a clear day it would be stunning.

Lonely on the saddle, but beneath the cloud base, Toaroha Saddle Biv provided a sheltered spot for a late lunch. This two person stand-up biv is another NZFS classic. It was a late lunch though, as we’d all agreed we’d have gotten really cold stopping in the wind and drizzle on the exposed ridge, so we’d pushed on.

As the crow flies, it’s not far from Toaroha Saddle to Mungo Hut; only two and three quarter ‘squares’ on the map, but whichever way you go it’s a much longer and more involved effort than 2.75 straight line KMs might suggest. My understanding is that descending to the Mungo directly from the saddle (on a reasonable track) and then heading up valley used to be the best way. But landslides and severe floods have washed out the river margin enough that this is now quite a messy way to go. We chose to take the mostly untracked tops route via Topo Creek.

At first this route is really pleasant, as it wanders up and along easy tops, with some waterfalls, nice lumps of rock, and the range dropping away sheerly around you.

The route to descend the ridge parallel to Topo Creek is well described in the Mungo Hut notes on remotehuts.org

We descended the crown of the ridge at first, remarking at how impressively steeply it dropped it away on both sides. We could already see Mungo Hut, made a little more obvious by the burnt bush surrounding the hut from a recent accidental (and nearly disastrous) fire, but it was a long way down still.

A small but very exposed rock step then forced us on to those same steep slopes to bypass it and we dropped down a gully, before sidling round to rejoin the ridge. It was one of those sections where you have to fully commit to the vegetation and climb across it, clutching handfuls of snow grass and the odd reassuring leatherwood branch. This detour is described on Remote Huts and was sparsely cruise taped.

Further down, three warratahs marked the beginning of an old cullers route that drops down through very steep scrub and bush until it emerges at the confluence of Topo Creek and Park Stream. I suspect that until this was recut recently by West Coast tramping veteran Andrew Buglass, it would have been a seriously grovelly undertaking. As it was, we still spent a fair bit of time clinging to trees as we worked our way down slowly in the fading light.

It was pitch dark by the time we reached the confluence. We turned downstream and followed the riverbed until we found the track up to Mungo that initiates at the Park/Mungo confluence. It had been a long day and we were happy to reach this cosy hut, which maintains its reputation of requiring a bit of effort to reach.

It’s a shame we didn’t have a bit more time to absorb this remote spot in daylight, but we had a long day lined up to reach Top Kokatahi Hut the next day, and were committed to continuing, with the threat of heavy rain the following day. And so we left soon after day break, following another fairly recently recut track to join Park Stream just upstream of the Topo/Park confluence.

The Park has been scoured out by floods and the riverbed is a mess of boulders and gravel right across the bottom of the valley, but the travel is still quite quick. There’s lots of nice streaky schist boulders to marvel at too.

We left the Park via a steep creek and series of gullies that climb to a col just south of the summit of Mt Chamberlain. Which sounds straightforward, as does the description on Remote Huts, but it was quite a bit more involved than that.

We climbed straight up 600 vertical metres, following our noses. It was the sort of travel that requires maintaining a bigger picture view, while you micro navigate up steep and sometimes loose ground. Picking your way carefully to unlock the line of least resistance and greatest security. It’s the sort of mountain travel I really enjoy, because it calls on a bigger range of skills than just walking and requires you to decipher the land to find the best way forward. Poor visibility made it harder, so in the end reaching the col via a good line was a combination of careful route finding and good guesswork.

Sometimes the steepest lines are the ones that are the most secure.

After we reached the col we sidled around the southern side of Mt Chamberlain and Pt 1809. Visibility was bad and it was raining again and quite windy at times (hence the lack of photos).  From the col just north of Pt 1809 we dropped into the headwaters of the Kokatahi River. This was a bit like the reverse of the morning’s climb at first, but slightly less steep. Once we got into the creek it was by no means over and in light rain the complicated riverbed travel down to Top Kokatahi Hut took us longer than expected. We crossed the river frequently and were constantly seeking the best travel as the river has quite a few small waterfalls and difficult travel over and around boulders, gravelly guts and scrub. We were all in full waterproofs and pretty soggy by the time we reached the hut.

The view above is looking up the Kokatahi from Top Kokatahi Hut.

This was our second visit to Kokatahi Hut and it was nice to be back at this special location. The hut’s really well insulated and has a pot belly, so it didn’t take long to get it to t-shirt temps inside. We hung a lot of clothing up to dry and settled in for the night as the rain increased.

By morning, water was pouring down every available channel in the valley and the Kokatahi in full flood. Waterfalls poured off cliffs and down steep gullies that had been dry before and gushed in rivulets through the tussock and scrub surrounding the hut. We’d woken to thunder and lightning. It was clear we were going nowhere, so we settled into a well-earned pit morning and extra cups of tea.

We’d anticipated this downtime, and thought perhaps we might be able to move off over Zit Saddle to Adventure Biv for the night that afternoon. 11.00 rolled around; still raining, then 12, 1, & 2. Although the heavy rain eased, the route up to Zit Saddle follows a steep creek which would have been tricky at best and impassable at worst. The rain didn’t cease until quite late in the afternoon, so by that time we’d settled into reading every word of the hut literature, including the FMC Bulletins which I’d already read cover to cover at least twice before.

At about 5pm the rain finally stopped, and we got out and wandered around, collecting firewood and breathing fresh air after a day in the now fetid hut. The rain had renewed the vegetation and everything seemed to glow with extra luxuriance.

The full day at Top Kokatahi meant we were obligated to a long walk out the following day, because work called. A heavy inversion had set in overnight, so it was a gloomy first hour or so as we left the hut in the dark. Even as daylight came it remained dank until we neared the top of the steep climb to Zit Saddle. The route climbs up the creek at first and then breaks away up a gully and tussock slopes, easing off in angle as it nears the saddle.

After four days without seeing the sun we were happy to see the inversion burn off quickly as we reached the saddle. It’s a pretty stunning spot, with great views down the Toaroha and out to the coast when it’s clear.

Even though it’s marked, and relatively frequently travelled, the route down to Adventure Biv always feels adventurous. It could do with a recut really, as the fast growing West Coast scrub has choked up the track in places. Steep tussock slopes ease off eventually into a vague ground trail through the scrub, that sometimes swallows you up to your neck. It’s fun tramping though.

Adventure Biv is nicely sited on a small terrace on the lee of the ridge, and from there we could make out Yeates Ridge Hut a couple of kilometres away to the SW on the neighbouring ridge. From Adventure Biv the track enters the bush and drops steeply nearly 600m to the Toaroha. The bush was welcome again after three days of tops travel and we made good time.

The colour had already returned to the green pools of the gorge and from there it was just a stones throw to Cedar Flat Hut, where the sandflies joined us for lunch. It’s great to see how lovingly looked after the historic Cedar Flat Hut is. Thanks to the parties involved with that.

Four hour’s walking remained between us and the road. But what had flown by with the fresh footedness and trip anticipation of day one seemed to take twice as long on the way out.  I didn’t wish it over though, despite the aches of a few days tramping, because I didn’t really want to leave so soon. As the car came into sight I’d already racked up the next trip’s itinerary for when the next window of opportunity rolls around.