What Goes Up: Climbing Roy’s Peak (1,578m), Lake Wanaka, NZ (16km)

Whenever we have sat down on the trip to investigate where to head next, the iPad has been plagued with nature-porn shots from the top of Roy’s Peak.

It’s just one of the 750km of hiking tracks found in the surrounding area of Lake Wanaka’s stunning alpine terrain. But we won’t be seeing any of it today.

“It’s been the wettest summer on record,” explains the smiling thirty-something lady at our campiste reception. “Or at least that I can remember!”

We are still wary from our ill-equipped washout in the Kahurangi National Park to try any further hill climbing in the rain for now. Despite making it a priority after that hike, we have also failed to purchase any better waterproofs. So we decide to drive to Queenstown instead, which we suspect has more to offer us by way of rainy day activities. One cosy viewing of Star Wars: Rogue One, two decadent burgers and a smattering of vineyard visits later; we return to our campsite at Lake Wanaka with our suspicions confirmed.

We roll out of our van the next morning to bright sunshine and clear skies. We are relieved, but also a little disappointed not to have an excuse to drive back to see Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. We steady ourselves with some beans on toast, prep some pittas and remind each other that the climb up Roy’s Peak will be worth it.

We drive to the trailhead and begin our ascent. We soon realise however that even with the increasingly epic views of Lake Wanaka, the walk itself is pretty mundane. A steep and switchbacking eight kilometers up, followed by the same knee-jarring eight kilometers back down again. By New Zealand’s standards it’s also a ‘busy’ walk, with a steady stream of folk sweating back and forth along the path.

Linear return walks are some of my least favourite. I feel cheated by the repitition of the same scenery. As fun as it is to get to the top a peak, it is a shame not to be able to return via the other ridges, gaps or saddles nearby. Roy’s Peak is made worse by the complete lack of variety; the up and the down on the stony path.

It is some testament to the view at the top then to say this is still a very worthwhile hike.

Edging out onto the thin trail of the Peak itself is an unforgettable, unnerving experience. We shuffle out, crunching our feet on tiny rocks that crumble and tumble over the edge. Reaching the cliff edge itself creates a floating sensation. I feel like I’m anchored to the rest of the mountain by the narrow strip, like an astronaut roped to a ship but hovering in space.

A momentary glance down tells you all you need to know about the vertical drop off. Looking back up, snow flecked mountain tops dig into the cloudless sky and fall away to green hills lower down. These surround the deep blue of Lake Wanaka that spills out below, as if someone has poured liquid glass into a huge basin.

It is fantastic. Maybe even more so than the beasts found in the Harry Potter film universe.

 

Practicalities

– This is a steep walk without any shade or cover. Take appropriate gear for the weahter i.e. waterproofs, sunscreen and a hat. I would say 6 or 7 out of 10 difficulty due to the incline and total height gain of around 1,300m.

– You’ll need transport to reach the start point which is about 5km west of Wanaka Town. A fair number of people were hitching there and back which is an option.

– If visibility is poor, there is little point in doing this walk.

 

 

 

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There and Back Again: Flora Car Park – Cloustons Mine – Gordon’s Pyramid (1,489m) Circular, Kahurangi National Park, New Zealand (21.1km)

The plump weka bird is in two minds as it scurries around, circling our soaking boots like a cautious, begging dog. It wants to make sure it doesn’t miss any crumbs from my late afternoon pita bread. On the other hand, it doesn’t want to share and so pauses at intervals to charge off any other wekas in an aggressive flurry of chasing, hopping and flapping. Back and forward, round and round it goes. It’s hard to believe it’s this fat with so much activity; perhaps the spot really is worth scrapping for if its’ waistline is anything to go by. Like the penguin, the flightless weka is a natural comedian to observe as it doesn’t quite seem fit for purpose when walking around.

As the weka performs its bumbling ritual, the rain continues to thunder down on the wooden porch of the Arthur hiking hut that we’re sheltering under. Through the doorway of the basic room behind us, three German chaps are trying to light the stove without success. The firewood, like everything and everyone else, is sodden. Although we’re grateful to be out of the rain, our waterlogged boots soon inflict on us a teeth-chattering chill. As amusing as the weka’s antics are, we’re not getting any warmer and so decide to squelch the final hour back down to the Flora Car Park.

Several hours before we leave the very same car park, very much drier, striding out along forest tracks with the goal of reaching Clouston’s Mine for lunch. The route starts flat and the pace is quick; we fly past streams, bounce over fords and munch on salt and vinegar crisps like a couple possessed. About an hour in, this speed almost causes us to miss the steep fork for Clouston’s Mine which narrows and snakes up the valley side. It is less trodden and all the more beautiful for it. We navigate around lichen caked, luminous green landslides, whilst tiny grey warblers and robins peck for insects on the path ahead.

The lunch spot at Clouston’s is perfect after hours of tramping through close forest. The mine entrance opens up to a small patch of grass which overlooks a cascading river that carves a view point down into the valley. The mine itself is unfortunately flooded and unstable. Standing by the entrance, the sound of dripping water in far off caverns echoes back. A cool breeze flows out of the darkness. Little seems to be known about the mine, other than the fact it was a failed gold venture. A good place to gorge on a sandwich regardless.

Buoyed by our success, we then decide to make the final ascent to Gordon’s Pyramid (1,489m) and are rewarded with the most spectacular views we’ve seen in New Zealand to date. The whole park sprawls out around us. Horseshoe Basin sits below, far to the north we can make out the sunlit beaches of Abel Tasman, and Mount Arthur’s craggy and shrouded peak soars up ahead of us. As we walk along the ridge, circling back to our start point, we notice an ominous swirling mass of clouds sailing towards us at an alarming pace.

Even as we are knocked about by wind, rain and cloud, it is impossible to ignore how awesome this place is. It’s like the Lake District on steroids.

We come now to Arthur’s hut with its failing stove lighters and squabbling weka birds. Even with our waterproofs, the sideways rain seems to have permeated everywhere. I suppose ‘On Sale’ Sport’s Direct gear from Peckham High Street is not cut out for New Zealand’s weather warnings.

Time for an upgrade.

Practicalities

– The Kahurangi National Park sits just next to the popular Abel Tasman Park, at the north west tip of New Zealand’s South Island.

– It is also one of New Zealand’s biggest parks so the above walk covers only a tiny fraction of its eastern portion.

– If, like us, you can’t do Abel Tasman when you were expecting to, then Kahurangi provides an excellent alternative. In many ways, I actually preferred it to Tasman. It feels more remote, less busy and just enormous!

– The iSite shop in Motueka has helpful walking guides available for $2.50.

– Flora Car Park is up a steep gravel track. Most cars should be fine, just take care.

– There are many more jumping off points, as well as multi day treks using the DOC huts (like Arthur’s hut mentioned above). Again, the iSite or DOC online are full of info.