TRIP REPORT: Rees-Dart Track

The Rees Dart Track is a five day walk that takes you up the Rees River, up over the Rees Saddle, then down through the Dart river. I made a side trip up past the Dart Glacier and climbed to the Cascade Saddle.

DAY 1: Rees Valley to Shelter Rock Hut
Anne drove me as far up the 4X4 road as possible, but it had been raining on and off for the last two days in the valley so we stopped at a washout about 6km from the start of the track. I saddled up, waved goodbye and confronted my first challenge - the small wash-out river. After 10 minutes of walking up and down the thing trying to find a way across I decided I was going to get wet anyway, and that I might as well do it on purpose. I sloshed through the stream and filled my boots with water.

It turned out to be the right decision as being wet was what this Treking business is all about. I passed a Kiwi driving a backhoe down the road towards me in the rain, he had been clearing a landside off the road - I waved and smiled, he shook his head and kept driving. The track followed farmers tracks and eventually became more hidden as I walked along the river. I hopped on tufts of soggy grass trying to avoid the shin-deep mud holes that constituted the "path."

A few hours later, the weater had improved with blue skys forming behind me. I had made two more challenging fords across side streams - this time I tried to move quickly and the gailters kept me pretty dry (now understand that "dry" is a loose term here - more like my boots we're squirting out water with each step.) These river crossings had been what I was most afraid of: apparently its river crossings and streams that take the lives here in Mt. Aspiring park - these streams and rivers flood fast. I had lunch on the bank of 25 Mile Creek which I knew was going to be the most challenging ford yet. The creek was fast, cold, deep and as I was chewing on salami I noticed a memorial plaque in the high grasses commemorating the death of two Trekers swept away a few years ago.

I was dreading this crossing, but it had to be done: I walked about 2 minutes up stream and took off my pack. I eased my way in as my boots filled with freezing water. It was thigh deep and fast. Facing the stream I shuffed across until I was directly in the center of the stream. I felt ok, though I was almost up to my waist now; I figured I could do it. I shuffled back and threw the pack on, and slowly pushed my way through. I felt fantastic having make the crossing and attacked the second part of the day with fevor.



After a few hours of forest hiking I spilled out into Clarke Slip, a melting glacial field with many waterfalls, boulders and alpine shrubs. It was raining and ominous but I stopped for half an hour to take photos and breathe. VERY BEAUTIFUL. I met Neal, a Texan who had set up his tent in the field. We were both doing the same route, him by tent, me by hut. I pushed on for about another hour until I reached Shelter Rock Hut. It was raining heavily then and I was glad to have a hut to sleep in.

DAY 2: Shelter Rock Hut to Dart Hut
The rain was attacking the windows of the hut when I awoke, but I was so excited by just being where that I didn't care about the weather. My friend Simon once said, "there's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing," I thought he was right. I got suited up with a hot breakfast and took off. The valley was getting more and more rugged with each minute of my ascent. The peaks surrounding me were covered in snow and there was a serious wind blowing. I pushed on past Falcon dive bombs, slippery grass and rain in my face.

I reached the top of the valley, about 100m below the Rees Saddle when the wind picked up again and I was left with the choice of climbing up the wet snow alongside the rock face, or climbing up the slippery grass beside it. Either choice was difficult and ran the risk of me sliding back down into the rock face. I found myself right on the edge for this climb; I'd kick snow-steps for a few meters, then start breaking through, so I'd maneuver myself to the grass where I'd slip, my pack and the wind conspiring to pull me back. Finally I made it to the top of the Rees Saddle and was greeted with a stiff wind and an amazing view up Snowy Creek.



The rest of the day was a nice descent along snowy creek to Dart Hut. It was a short day, but I was glad to get to Dart Hut early, start a fire in the stove and get myself dry.

DAY 3 - Dart River to Cascade Saddle
The mountain Gods decided to give me the Saddle that day as the clouds had parted just after breakfast and sun came spilling into the valley soon after. I was feeling great because I wasn't wearing my big pack but I had discovered a problem the night before - my right boot had been hitting my heel for the whole descent to Dart Hut and I had badly bruised the bone. Determined to reach the Cascade Saddle, I took out the insole of the boot, cut off a section of my shorts, and put the fabric ball behind my heel. This worked well enough to take the pressure off my heel and get me out of the Hut.



The climb up the valley was amazing, with moss and alpine flowers everywere. The mountains had neon-blue glaciers hanging precariously off them, and the sky was blue. The wind kept me cool. The walking was great and after a few hours even the plant life seemed to dissapear, it was as if I had been transported to the moon. I was attracted to these strange grey caves way up ahead, I assumed they must have been glacial silt that had piled up higher and higher over time. After each hill I'd stare at them trying to figure out what they were. Eventually I decided to break off the path and go examine them first hand. Of couse it was the Dart glacier's snout, huge chunks of ancient ice melting and covered in silt. It was beautiful and I wanted to climb them, but knew better.



I spent about an hour trying to find my way back to the path. I knew I should backtrack to where I had broken trail, but something masculine in me wanted to push onward and find the path myself. I forded the same stream 4 times thinking that I had spotted a cairn, half the time they were stacks of rocks that the glacier must have piled. Eventually I caved in and walked back.


The path took a steep ascent over scree and south of the Dart Glacier. I heard what I thought was thunder and then I looked behind me down the valley I realized that it was a small avalanche. One of the glaciers up on the mountain peak had given birth to a chunk of ice and it spilled down. It was awesome. I made the fastest lens-change in my photography career. I had a bit of lunch there. It was about another hour up loose scree and snow patches to the Cascade saddle which was probably the most amazing mountain climax I've had. I was looking almost straight down into valleys, there were views of Mt. Aspiring, and I could make out farms which must have been near Wanaka. Outrageous wind - the sort that makes your eyes water. I met Neal at the top and we had another lunch.





The trip back was equally satisfying, but after the goal of summiting my foot decided it no longer needed to be stoic and started producing increadible pain. I made good time back, but was limping most of the way.

DAY 4: Dart Hut to Daley Flat
I suppose I was so stoked about the Cascade Saddle that I decided to head up the Whitborne Valley the next day and tack another 5 or 6 km on an already tough 16 km walk. By morning all signs of the previous day's great weather had dissapeared and there was fresh snow about 100m up the mountains from the hut. I had oatmeal and coffee and departed into the thick wet forest burdened again with my pack. About 2km up the track I ditched my pack, and climbed down the waterfall to a swingbridge. I crossed the Dart River and made the wet ascent of the Whitborne. An hour or so up the valley, I was soaked from rubbing against trees and the temperature started to drop. I wasn't sure what I was doing either because I knew I didn't have time to make it to the glacier itself. I decided I'd get up there, take a good picture and leave.

By the time I reached the valley the rain had turned to snow, but I could see no opportunity for a photo. I told myself, just abit further, just a bit further...I was gettting cold so I decided to jog. By the time I reached a descent spot the snow was coming in sideways and my foot was making a big deal about the running. I took a crappy photo and made the call to leave. I jogged back to the forest and tried to make my way back quickly, but found the rocks had become slippery with the drop in temperature. I decided to keep it cool, and walked out. By the time I reached the swing bridge, the clouds had parted and it was hot and sunny again.

I picked up my pack and started walking again but I knew I was in shit. My foot throbbed at me with every step. It was worse than it had been all day yesterday and I had just started my day. I stopped an hour later, took out the insole, cut off more pants and tried that again. It worked for a few minutes, but eventually the pain came back and I was dealing with my toes hitting the front of the boot and pain on the bottom of my foot from the impact of having no insole. My pace had been reduced to an old-man's limp for a few hours and I was getting frustrated. I wasn't sure I'd make it to the next hut at that pace, plus I was so absorbed in the pain I couldn't really enjoy the walk. I had come out of the forest and was walking across Cattle Flat, a beautiful valley of grasses full of birds and animals under the clear blue sky. I tried to enjoy it, but the pain was too much.

I stopped for a while to take off my boot, and accidentally tore my gaiter snaps off. I walked for 1/2 an hour in my sock and found it much better. My pace increased but soon I came upon deep mud and rocks and had to put it back on. I discovered that the ties on my gaiter had also been lost. I was frustrated, it was getting dark and I was angry. I sat down on a rock and decided to take care of business. I pulled out my knife and cut the heel out of my boot. They were 15 year old Scarpas that I bought used for $40 almost 10 years ago. It had to be done. I stuck the knife through the leather and hacked out a whole the size of my heel. I then cut off some of my shoe laces and made new gaiter straps. I tied up the boot in a way that would keep my heel pressed against the sole of the boot, did up the gaiters and moved on.

It wasn't perfect, but my pace must have doubled. I was Rocky Balboa for a few minutes there, running up those grey concrete steps with my hands above my head. I was so far behind schedule by this point that I resigned myself to counting breaths. It was 254 until I I had to stop. Then it was 165. Then in was 78. But soon enough I made it to the hut exhausted. Neal was there and we made a fire. I tought him how to play crib, I patched up my boot with duct tape and crashed having the best sleep in days.

DAY 5 : Daley Flat Hut to the French Girls

I felt good.

I know I didn't look it and my feet would have told you otherwise but I felt good. I took my time in the morning, taking pictures and having a slow breakfast. When I walked, I walked quickly that morning. I had to stop a few hours later to cut off more of my boot, but I knew I was going to make it. The track was nice, full of steep climbs and descents but I was happy just be be able to move and feel the burn in my legs.

I caught up to Neal just before we reached Chinaman's Bluff and told him about the beer I had waiting for me. I'd met this other Canadian named Guy who didn't have enough food with him. I gave him some of mine and he'd given me the key to his car and the location of his beer. Neal and I walked quickly to the car where we downed victory carbs!

With a good buzz on, a good hole in my boot and a sunny day ahead of my I kept walking through Dan's Cow Padock with my thumb out. I was picked up by a car full of French girls who were doing Lord of the Rings sight-seeing (I had just spent the day walking through Isengard apparently). They were headed to Arrowtown (were I'm staying with Anne) but they had some places to go first. I piled in the back of the small car, with my stinky armpits and massive bag and spent the next 4 hours sightseeing until I was dropped off at the house. I slept so hard it actually hurt and ate for 2 hours straight the next morning.



It was an amazing expereince. I learned a lot about the mountains.

Now I just have to get a new pair of boots.