QCT Event

Final week of earthquake break came along and I decided that a jaunt on the queen charlotte track would be nice. Or rather I wanted to go to Nelson lakes and do the travers-sabine circuit but the weather forecast was for rain, wind, snow and more snow... not the best conditions for avalanche territory. A german friend in my glacier studies class, Marrie, was coming back from wellington and wanted to do something in the nelson region, and decided on the Queen Charlotte track in marlborough sounds. I told her I would meet her up there thursday when they sarted the track. Wednsday came, after a nice lazy day at Liz's, and I realized I probably should be in Picton (the closest town) that evening so I could actually get on the track thursday morning. I called Marrie and she said she had a friend hitching up from christchurch that day and i should see if i could join her. I tried the number but got no answer, sent off a text and waited for a reply. I flashed home on my bike to pack all my gear so I would be ready if I did get a response. But it was past 2 and it's a good 4 hour drive to Picton, so things weren't looking too good.

Indeed no response came and at 8:30 the next day, Thursday, I was on the road hoping for a ride. 2 hours later I was 30 minutes outside christchurch looking for another ride. Then I got a ride up towards Kaikora and finally felt i had started out, HOW. But I also Learned that the road to Kaikora was closed because of a landslide! what? yep, happened

four days ago and between two bridges so they couldn't get big diggers in there to clean it out. Luckily there was a detour and my ride took me half way through before dropping me off and heading towards his exploration of some neat little beach. From there a dog trainer picked me up and took me through the back roads of the Kaikoras. These mountains are small and rolling but come to large overbearing summits with commanding views of sea and souther alps. I just saw the seaveiw and didn't reach any summits, but look forward to doing a peak in the region at some point.

Coming into Kaikora is amazing: mt Feif rears from farms to bush and into snow to its 1600m summit. the farms extend to small houses a road and a strip of sand before the gaz wanders out to see and its infinite horizon. The sky is slightly overcast, just above the summit of fief. no sun spots make it down to the earth. But somehow all is wonderfully illuminated in a sacred calm. The surf crashes gently in eternity on that sandy shore that is littered with little black outcrops of coarse rock. A chimney is puffing smoke and the small sleepy town feels like a wonderful place of rest. I am tempted to call off my plans and stay there for some time. But a car halts and the driver moves his things to the back.

A california boy has suddenly decided to go renew his drivers license, but needs to go

toblenheim, the nearest semi big town in the northern part of the

island in order to do so. I will remind you that New Zealand has a population of 4 million, with only 1 million on the south island and 400 thousand of those in Christchurch. So we traveled, north, enjoying music, sharing stories, and speculating on the future. He likes to fish and I told him to feel free to give a ring anytime he's down near christchurch needing a place to stay. He dropped me in Blenheim so I made my way across town passing this bridge en route.

Final hitch to Picton was a wonderful older man, who just finished at his first job in a nursing home in Blenheim and now he was heading to Picton for a restaurant job. He owns a small farm and has a home near Picton. I really liked talking to him, though cant remember much of that conversation... unfortunate. Marrie texted to say they had ferried out to the track and planned to stay at bay of many coves campsite. It was almost four and I was sad I probably wouldn't be joining them. But my driver was optimistic that I could catch a ferry in Picton to join them that evening. Alas all the transport companies had returned for the day. I went around the harbor asking the fishermen and any other people near ships if they might be going out into the sounds andcoudl drop me anywhere along the track. The fishermen had all come in and were done for the evening. Though one, nicknamed shorty, said he'd give a call if he was going in the morning and could give me a ride then. I never did get a call from him.

I decided to give up on doing the track with them and decided to hitch from picton to either the start of the Queen Charlotte track or to another track. I was picked up by a wonderful german coming off the ferry from wellington. He had been living in wellington and was now headed to Nelson to join his wife and kids in the new house they had just bought on some land there. Great to practice my german a bit as we talked of weather and kids and jobs. He drove me an extra 7km up the side road to the start of the track, and we had amazing low sunlight penetrating under the clouds to illuminate the green valley that is the head of Queen Charlotte Sound.

I really started off! HOW! 5 pm and I was on the trail after hitching 530 odd km. I was goign the wrong direction... but I would cross paths with Marrie and might even spend a night in the same spot if things worked out. I had an hour of daylight and fully intended to make the most of it. Indeed those first few kms were some of the best. The sound has some interesting undulations at it's head, and the dipping sun nicely illuminated them.

I ran into some folks shortly after, first two girls who walked by with scarcly a nod. Then a boy who stopped and I radiantly greeted. One word out of Olly's mouth and my next question was: "wo?" My german mode was on and the next few minutes passed in german to his immense astonishment. Another boy caught up to him and I realized they were from Canterbury Uni as I had met his companion Daniel once. I told them they weren't from from the davis bay campsite which I had passed (wonderfull little beach, has some sand, but I briskly walked over it as i wanted to put some distance between myself in the start that evening). Then two more girls appeared, one of which I recognized, the four of them seemed a bti drained and I asked where they had started. From black rock shelter they said (some 20 odd km) and it had been a hard long day for them after the past two days of similarly lengthy days. I was eager to be off and get some more kms behind so I waved a

cheery *tschuss* and marched off. I ran into some goats on the trail, but they evaded the camera by dashing off into the spiky Goss. I knocked out some more kms but the sun was fading, setting the clouds ablaze to my delight. I said - next bend.. no the next bend - several times. Until at last the light no longer resided in the real of blaue stunde and I forced myself up into the bush. The Goss got thick quick and I had to set up camp slightly before I would have liked, and got Goss needles all over me. But the Hammock went up relatively smoothly, tarp and all. The dry Goss actually left a nice opening in the bush through which moonlight occasionally streamed. I cleared the floor a bit and set down to make and chow on some salami sandwiches. looking up through the needles (which occasionally wiggled their way into my behind or prickled down my back) The stars seemed to race past. Really the clouds were whipping by changing and flowing into eachother, dispersing to let the moon down. Constellations would be briefly framed before once again the clouds, like a mist, closed on them. I wriggled into my bed, my warm cozy sleeping bag made me sweat uncomfortably in the night but I slept well.

I woke early and completed the first 10 of the track to arrive in Mistletoe Bay there I first read the signs about needing a Queen Charlotte Track Land Cooperative (QCTLC) pass to walk the track. The lodge at Mistletoe Bay wasn't open yet so I couldn't get one there. I continued on to a summit from which to view the sounds and enjoy some musli and a pear for breki. I ditched my gear on the side of the track as I went up the side track to the lookout. Nice to drop the burden for a bit. The view was sweet as, looking along the ridgeline and seeing Queen Charlott sound and the more impressive and to me beautiful fingers of Pelorus and Kenepuru sounds. The clouds were thick above but let in shafts of early sun to cut into the restless waters of the sounds. All the constituents gave angry motions but together created a mural of a fast calm. Rooted were the surroundings, even the shifting sunbeams lent permanence to the scene.

Down from the views, into the bush, onwards. The track stayed for a time in a subalpine environment with lots of Goss on either side. The track is graded and two meters wide, easy. It stayed close to the ridgeline and would sometimes cross

over and a view of the sounds would be afforded, the light changed to sun now and again. I passed another sign telling me to get a QCTLC pass. I didn't want to detour to Portage lodge or whatever they call it so I sighed and commited to buy one when I returned to Picton. I passed off DOC lands and onto an odd section of grass, a bridal path for herding sheep that followed the ridgeline, and climbed steeply for a bit. Shortly after I

passed some other walkers. They too had

rain gear on against the odd showers that whipped up from time to time with light sprays. I passed down again from the Goss and into native bush. Lots of bush... some mud, some slightly steeped bits, but always graded. Then up again and into more Goss. The winds were picking up and with them gathering greys.

The gusts pushed up over the ridge from the west to then dive down into the bays of Queen Charlotte. The intense pressure left flat depressions on the water which boiled outwards, sometimes kicked up into a fury of white spray that danced and swirled into the air. Turning over a ridgeline I watched it all in amzement. Descending agin somewhat into the bush I passed a sign indicating access to a privatle lodge along the track and warning: Not maintained by DOC: for experienced trampers only! I laughed and sidled on along

the smooth and graded DOC track. A gap in the bush where a tree had fallen allowed for another look into the sound and the paintings of the wind.

And then I was at the black rock shelter; just in time, for 5 minutes post arrival the winds reached a gale and brought rain beating down against the back of the shelter. A perfect time for some banana peanut butter sandwiches for lunch ay? I enjoyed my yummy, listened to the gale and tried to record some of it as well. The hexagonal shelter kept me nice and dry and out of the wind. I figured I'd fill in the DOC book since they tel you to always fill em out when you pass. But I was naughty and picked a bunch of sweet smelling yellow Goss flowers, stuck em in the book and wrote "flowers!" as my intended purpose of the journey. Bundling up against another possible shower I was back on the trail.

I passed a walker engrossed in his headphones and was sad. Then on through more bush. The clouds lifted for a bit and I had some nice views of the bush, and then some openings allowed views of the sound and bush covered hills. Rain came in spurts, and now and again I even got some hail. I was approaching the Bay of Many Coves shelter, but had not passed Marrie. I got out my phone and sent a text to see where they might be. The weather began clearing again and when I reached the shelter I had sunshine and a nice clear view over the sound. I sat on the stoop and ate some scroggin, ei gorp. The girls it turned out had spent the night at the shelter, but the storm had hit them and soaked their gear. So they had to turn back and take the ferry back into Picton. I was sorry to hear that but excited at the prospect of getting the whole track done and had enjoyed the views, if few and far between, thus far. Back onto the track I determined to

get passed a longish section on the western aspect and onto the more sheltered eastern side of the ridge before nightfall. The path moved onto the west side of the ridgeline and the wind was intense. Howling up and through the trees trying to pass over the obstruction that separated the sounds. It's fury almost caught me as I walked into an opening beneath some powerlines. The full force of wind, unfiltered by trees, came and nearly blew me over. I staggered, but smiled and continued on, chuckling. In and out of the bush, as I passed over small ridgelines, wearing my rain jacket more for the wind than anything, but the rain was coming again as well. And with the wind the rain was horizontal and very strong. On one bend a tree had lost its footing and was bending into the path. A tangle of roots unable to hold dirt spread over the path. The edge was rather steep and so I had to clamber over awkwardly.

The wind really was howling and I was getting a bit nervous about how the night might turn out. I knew I needed to get on the eastern aspect to avoid the full brunt of the wind. This notion was reenforced when I took another little side trail to a lookout. Howling winds tore at the nonnative pine trees around the track and small branches had been blown down. At the lookout the wind was strong and rain blew into me, making it difficult to see any sights and also rather unpleasant. There was a picnic bench and a sign pointing the direction and distance to many famous places around the globe... But I felt cold and so preoccupied so wandered back down from that windy place. I stopped in another saddle where the wind was blowing, this time with less rain, and the clouds were higher. I was behind a thin line of trees and looking down into Queen Charlotte sound I watched the play of wind on water making wave and spray. Captivating are the horseshoes that grow out of flat waters in the bays. Dark greens, deep deep blues, and then white caps and spray all under grey dormant clouds. in that vantage the rain started, and so I marched on into the shelter of the bush.

I began to descend, and finally crossed over the ridge and onto the eastern face. I continued on to reach lower elevations free of Goss, and kept my eyes open for a thin section of bush in which to set up my hammock. Today's wildlife appeared as a couple of wecca ambled across the tack. They were a bit cautious, but not frightened of me at all. Odd flightless New Zealand birds. nice brown

color and large yellow beaks. I was psyched to see them! Soon after I found my spot in the bush. I moved out away from the track and found some sturdy trees. Took a bit longer to set up camp as I was a bit drained by the last few hours rain. Though at the moment it was clear (you could tell by the light since you couldn't really see out of the bush). I still had a few hours tell dark so took it easy. By the time the tarp was all stretched out it started to drizzle, so I crawled into the hammock and had dinner in there. No moon tonight, but I pulled out my Sheepskin, which kept the back nice and toasty, and left my sleeping bag open. I stayed a much better temperature and had some pleasant dreams though I cant recall them now.

I woke in the morning just after dawn, having slept soundly through the night, I chose a nicely sheltered spot and had had very little wind, though the rain had come down hard at times. Packing up some more Wecca appeared. which was nice, at first. But then they started moving towards my bag, and their sharp beaks took some strong jabs at my pack and food bag. I had to shoo them off a bit then, though they persistently snuck back. It was a bit later, this morning, maybe an hour after dawn? So I was eager to be off, and the urgings of the wecca expedited the tear down of camp.

Back up the slope, through the fragile trees that were still standing in spite of rot, wind, and rain. Under some pines with towering branches thick with needles. The track was moist, and as I came around and down into Endeavor Inlet the air thickened and rain began to come. this rain was different, the wind was softer. A more misty rain, but unsteady and the clouds were high and a lot of light filtered through. Really just the occasional sprinkle, though up above I watched the tormented clouds and knew there was wind.

Down along the shore of the bay now I kept a weary eye for an a place to eat a full breakfast. I had a banana at camp but I hadn't wanted a full meal just yet. An overlook wasn't likely to occur, But I noticed a nice little beach across the undulation in the inlet I was following that shouldn't be too far away and made that my goal. I was bundled up with hat and wet gloves and rain-jacket against the spitting of the sky. The morning was chilly without a sun and my hands were very chilled. At the head of the bay the stream which formed that undulation appeared. A good sized river, the biggest I had seen yet on the track. I noticed a side path and took it, I knew it would go towards the beach where the stream joined the sea (I'm on an ocean incase you forgot!) But another branch veered off back to the path, as I had hoped, and led me into the stream. Felt good to get my feet wet in wading after having crossed so many bridges.

The track started to climb and I worried I would miss my beach. I stopped at an interesting Tree next to the Path that served as an umbrella for a view out of Endeavor Inlet. And just down from the tree was my beach! I scrambled down a steep bit and onto the rocky beach. What strange rocks! They looked as if corroded and etched by acid. They had cool pock mark holes in them and were a stunning warm reddish hue. A small space, maybe 15m wide, backed by a 2-3m high wall of crumbling earth, tree branches strewn and neglected as they stretched down towards the beach. Fully hungry now I extracted my musli and a pear from my pack and sat on a rock to enjoy. A stiff breez was still nipping and I discovered my fingers flacid and noncooperative. I struggled to close them around the spoon, and couldn't hold the fingers together to scoop out the musli. The result was I spilled a lot of musli, and the paradise ducks I watched playing on the water probly got a nice meal from it too. Satisfied I scanned the stones and selected a few holy ones. Rubbing my hands I reorganized, storing my treasures, and scrambled back up the slope. I was eager to try and get to Ships cove that afternoon, early enough to catch a ferry back to Picton and with luck hitch back to christchurch.

The trail then was more of the same. up down, up down, the views restricted to the waters of the inlet and less of the sounds proper. I then came down into the head of the Inlet itself an miners camp. Miners settled there at one point mining adamantine ore. The ore was of low grade unfortunately and now it is a quirky place of a few farm animals and curious shacks. Farther on the fancy vacation homes and resorts popped up. I stopped at one to retie my shoes and say hi to an older gentleman living there. After the homes I passed a cool turn off to a waterfall, but I wanted to make ships cove and so pressed on. Just after was another sweet

little rock beach. And then began the climb up out of Endeavor Inlet over to resolution bay. I ran into some cyclists, and just after thier passing heard a tire blow, and someone shouted, "thats the third one today!" The forrest here was sweet and there were some cool half lookouts that just had very nice light, though no real views of the sounds. Up farther and I caught glimpses of the saddle that was the top. The trees felt very healthy hear, and the hillside murmered with trickling-seeping water. The sky had cleared and I now watched soft cumulous racing overhead. At the saddle was first a toilet. I used it. Then, a steep descent on switchbacks to a sweet little farm. I thought sustainable, but what do I know. At any rate they had some cool shelters set up and running free across the path were chickens! I really liked that place. felt like a good home, I wish i remembered the name cause I think you can stay there and I would recommend it over the other places I passed.

It was 2 and I knew I wouldnt make it to ships cove that day. I saw a turn for another campground at a beach and went there. School house bay, not that nice, but I had a good time. Another landslide had covered that path so I got to scramble over that. Then I Sat on the beach and set out some things to airout/dry. I stripped down and prepared for a bath. The wind was chilly, but the sun warm so I had my eye on the clouds and waited tell none were coming. Then I dashed into the water and freaked out! oiy! chilly cold salty water, refreshing as a mountain stream. I dipped, dove, and sprang out gasping a few

times. Then found a semi sheltered spot from the wind and commanded the sun to dry me. That worked a bit, and then I ventured out into the wind and that dried off the rest. Waiting I ate and watched the waves crashing on a protrusion in the beach. Lunch was yummy, and when I felt I was all dry I set off at a leisurely pace for ships cove.

One final Saddle to reach. the path curved up towards it and I caught many glimpses of it through the tree tops. At that top was the view of all views. A notch in the trees allowed unhindered observation of the outermost sounds. The fingers of Queen Charlotte Sound fully spread, grasping brothers island and the eyes of the octopus. On the horizon could be seen a mass of cloud, hovering above the north island. I knew wellington was getting hammered in the storm even if the clouds had passed me for now. I loved it. and drank it in.

I was also ready to make camp and wanted to do so early, plus there was a waterfall at ship cove to explore. I got to the cove, noted the toilets, pier, grass, monument, and beach. Then moved on towards the waterfall keeping an eye out for likely hammock areas. I spotted one and ditched my pack. I visited the waterfall and recalled conversations from the Routburn track when we wanted to bath under one. There were multiple falls. The main ones in front of me were two, one large and boisterous to the left, another thinner and concentrated into a nice shower head falling just out from the rock into a pool. The trees were very thick, and some clouds I think added to the gloom, I was surprisingly tired. There were other falls behind and a second stream with smaller cascades to the right. I went up above, stepping gingerly through tangled vines and slippery stones. I found where the lower falls diverted into two streams and blocked off some of the bigger flow. When I got back down the smaller fall was falling well into the pool and I made a note of the spot incase I wanted a shower in the morning.

I went back to my pack, wandered up into the woods and found some nice trees next to a tree fern. This was the first camp on nearly flat ground. I again wanted another length of rope and used my kite lines instead. I was set well before dark, but the clouds dulled any sunset and I felt wind and rain coming on. I ate and dusk under the clouds fell. I bundled into my hammock and sleeping bag as it was dark and the wind picked up. But I couldn't sleep for some reason. I listened to the wind and the fern tree rubbing on the tarp. Then the rain came and cackled along the tarp, running off the side: in rivulets, and gathering to a stream near one of the lines. At last I slept. Slept tell morning and tinges of orange on the sky.

I quickly took things down as the new day was bright and sunny. I moved down to the beach at ships cove then. I dismissed the shady, cold, waterfall shower option, and contemplated another swim in the ocean. I ate some musli. drew some postcards. I slowly stripped down, letting the sun get stronger, as the wind had never left. I did then venture in. A long beach it was and hard to swim. I waded out some 20 meters and still only thigh deep. I suddenly felt a little pain in my back. then my arm. Sandflies? dammit there's sandflies! I then dove into the water and enjoyed some flundering, today with fewer gasps. before wading back to shore. I then was constantly moving to avoid the sand flies. I collected rounded stones from the stream there. Then sat on a log and did some more sketching and postcard writing. Then back to the stones and I discovered that the large stones were mud stone and easily broken. I broke some and then arranged my collections in an interesting fashion. I put on some clothes to keep off the sand flies but kept roaming, sketching, sculpting. Moving between yoga poses and feeling the sand (yep this beach was sanding rather than stoney) in toes and on legs and arms.

I saw a boat arrive and went out to the pier. Then I saw the blue waters there and really wanted to dive in. But I had dried and didn't want to again, plus I knew the boat ride would be windy and a windy wet boat ride would be COLD! the boat though was just dropping off and wasn't going to Picton. but shortly a Picton boat arrived. The sounds by boat arnt too flash either, your too low to the water. But some of the shore line is cool and you see more of it. You also see that alot more of the sounds are covered in nonnative, ugly, pine. I helped the boat driver land at docks and laod and unload some goods for people. But I still had to pay when We got backinto Picton.

A quick stop at the isght to buy my Queen Charlott Track Land Cooperative pass. Then to hitch! To blenheim in a wicked van with kids slowly going to christchurch to see metalica. Then from belnheim with a very cool indain dude from kashimier who had some things to say.

Epic. 2 days driving for 1060 km. 2 days walking 75km

HOW