Mt. Aspiring National Park: Gillespie Pass Circuit - Conclusion

This way to Gillespie Pass

After an enjoyable but vigorous hike to Crucible Lake the previous day, it was time to move on to the next segment - heading over Gillespie Pass into the next valley.  The hut warden told me I'd have decent weather for the first part of the day, with chances for light rain that afternoon.  Since I'd be climbing a few thousand feet to reach the pass, I was glad to hear that no severe threats loomed in the immediate future.

Taking the same route as the day before through the grassy valley, the initial approach was easy enough.  Once past the junction with Crucible Lake trail, the path immediately made a beeline for tree clad slopes.  I was not surprised at all to encounter the same kind of terrain as what I had seen 24 hours earlier - roots.

Beech roots, again

Thankfully the use of hands was not required as the grade was not as steep, but the intertwined roots definitely necessitated paying attention to foot placement.

The route to Gillespie enters a valley nearly directly opposite that of Crucible Stream.  The profile here is less constricted and more gradual in elevation gain - at least at first.  Gillespie Stream descends through the ravine, with occasional breaks in the tree cover allowing for views of the surrounding landscape.

The trail ducks in and out of the bush, staying just above the streambed as it climbs.  Where things open up the destination ahead comes into focus.  Like Crucible, the valley ends in a semi-circular ring of high mountain peaks and ridges, and some hardy adventurer needing to cross over discovered a slightly less arduous way to get there.

  

The valley extends for several miles before the trail eventually starts transitioning to the flanks of the mountain.  As in similar landscapes, with increases in elevation there is a corresponding change in vegetation - fewer trees, more shrubs, and eventually grasses.

As I turn back to survey my progress, I can see Crucible Valley across the way where I had been the day before.

Crucible Valley on the opposite side

Continuing on I can now make a guess as to where the pass might be.  With the path fully above treeline, the way is marked with orange poles.

 

The trail becomes quite steep in the last couple of miles, winding through large clumps or tussocks of snowgrass.  Erosion has carved deep ruts around the growths, and in many places there are big step-ups to manage.

Snowgrass tussocks

As I approached the pass clouds enveloped me, and near the ridge the wind became a force to reckon with.  I put on an extra layer as the temperature dropped considerably.  Unfortunately at the apex visibility was limited to just a few yards, and I wasn't able to capture any of the panorama I had hoped for.

The saddle of the pass is fairly broad but very exposed, and I wasted no time making my way to the other side.  After an extended scramble I finally reached the lower extent of the cloud bank and was able to see where I was headed.

What goes up, must go down

Just below the clouds

I had been warned by the Siberia Hut warden that descending the pass in the direction I was taking would be more of a challenge than if I had gone the other way, but with patience it was manageable.  The same snowgrass tussocks with deep ruts and big steps were present on this side, and I relied heavily on my trekking pole to prevent slips and slides.

It took the better part of an hour to reach the head of the valley, where Young Stream has it origin.  Once I had gotten to the bottom I could relax, and focus more attention on where I was.  I also had time to admire some of the local attractions.

After a break I continued towards Young Hut, my destination for the night.  Now in the valley proper, the trail followed the same progression as the way up.  Sub-alpine grasses and shrubs lined the area around water, with sheer rocky slopes climbing steeply on both sides.  

I was becoming acquainted with the environment of this unfamiliar land as I traveled slowly through it, acknowledging the differences and the likely reasons for them.  As an island nation, there are much more pronounced maritime influences on the weather, which are in turn accentuated by the extreme southern latitude.

Even though the mountains are not especially high by alpine standards, they are certainly lofty enough to capture and retain significant amounts of snow.  The prevalence of moisture laden fronts that originate in the polar ocean also allows for a temperate rain forest at lower elevations, and the abundance of plant life is testament to that.  All in all a big change for a desert rat like myself.

Making way downstream, the trail crosses over the stream on a sturdy steel bridge.  As elevation continues to drop the inevitable appearance of trees ahead means I'll soon be back in the bush for the foreseeable future.

 

 

Bush ahead

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, with additional trekking in the now dense foliage leading to arrival at Young Hut. The hut was nearly at capacity with hikers heading the other direction, and most were eager to hear about my hike to Crucible and conditions at the pass.  I shared some perspective and photos to an enthusiastic crowd looking forward to their next day.
 

Young Hut 

Rain began to fall not long after my arrival, and once again I gave thanks for a warm, dry place to take refuge.  Huts are definitely an upgrade to my usual backcountry experience, and while it's a great idea I'm not sure I would want it to become an expectation.  As far as I'm concerned self-sufficiency is part of the adventure, and for me it enhances the satisfaction I get for doing it.

The Final Day

I slept as well as you might expect given that the hut environment is a shared dormitory - earplugs are a big plus.  After coffee and usual minimalist breakfast, I shouldered my pack and headed down valley to meet the 2:00 p.m. jet boat appointment at Wilkins River.

The remainder of the trip continues through bush.  I mentioned in the earlier Crucible post how dense and tangled the roots of the beech trees are, and the terrain here was no exception.  The trail attempts to stay just above the river but the topography is complex, meaning lots of ups and downs.

Pictures are not adequate to show the complicated nature of the trail.  There were a few sections that qualified as unremarkable, but following the stream closely made others exceptionally convoluted.  Progress was slow and at times frustrating, as near constant scrambling over and through big root clusters created a literal puzzle at every turn.

The tricky deviations of the path were one thing, however there are different hazards lurking in wild places, with events sometimes leading to unforeseen consequences.  In a somewhat ironic turn of affairs, I was walking a section that was for the most part level and unobstructed, bordered on either side by dense vegetation.  That led to my downfall, literally.

The width of the path was consistent, and I made the most of easier progress with confident steps.  Unfortunately the outside edge of the trail had a sudden drop of at least 8 inches, obscured by the unbroken line of plants.  Where I expected firm ground, there was nothing but empty space under my right foot.

My forward momentum and weight of my pack meant the crash was swift and unpreventable.  I did not have time to extend my arms to break the fall and I hit the ground hard, face first.

After the bleeding stopped

The force of the impact left me stunned, and the pain rendered me nearly breathless.  It took more than a few minutes to recover my senses, and as the initial shock faded I noticed there was plenty of blood, especially from the cut across my nose.

I applied direct pressure with a bandanna, and it took 20 minutes to staunch the flow.  When that was accomplished I examined my glasses, which had understandably sustained damage.  Fortunately I had the good sense to bring an extra pair - having a backup was essential to me continuing.  

As the most significant hurt faded, I was left feeling embarrassed and angry, but most perversely of all thankful no one had witnessed the incident.  

Once I gathered myself enough to continue, I began to dread the inevitable encounter with other people and the requisite explanation of the gore.  The next few days were going to be interesting.  And although the wounds were mostly superficial they hurt, and served as a constant reminder of my lack of attention.

There are many times in life when you have to recognize that you are not in control of a situation, and this was one of those instances.  The fall had happened, the damage was done, and all I could do was be grateful it wasn't more serious.

A less difficult section

The meadow ahead suggests the end (of the trail) is near

One last look back

A couple of hours later I emerged from the bush, battered and bruised but still capable of moving.  Even then I started to realize this misadventure on the last leg of the Gillespie Pass Circuit would become be a story to share with others once the passage of time had provided the necessary perspective. 

After all, without a tale to tell it's just another day in the woods.  And on a positive note, I still have a jetboat ride back to Makarora.

 
 

Mt. Aspiring National Park: Gillespie Pass Circuit - Part Two

This way to Lake Crucible

My first night at Siberia Hut was enjoyable as I met other travelers who were working their way around the Gillespie Pass Circuit.  I mentioned in the first post that the majority of people do this hike in a counter clockwise fashion, mostly due to personal preferences and travel logistics.

It seems many people choose to approach the pass from Young Hut as it allows the steepest section of the hike to be completed in an uphill direction.  And to some degree the logistics of the jetboat company plays a part with more departure options available from that side.

Whichever direction is chosen many people include extra time in Siberia Valley for the attempt at day hiking to Crucible Lake, booking 2 nights at Siberia Hut for that purpose.

On the Way 

On my arrival the day before the hut warden had warned of a chance of rain, possibly making the trip dangerous if not impossible due to flash flooding on the unbridged river crossings.  Fortunately the early morning weather update forecasted only slight chances of rain, mainly later in the day.

Siberia Valley is a sea of grass, with the trail running roughly parallel to the river.  The prominence of relatively young mountains on either side is impressive, as time and erosion have yet to significantly soften the jagged peaks and ridges.

The hike to Crucible from the hut is about 9 miles round-trip, with the first couple of miles through expansive meadows.  Although little elevation is gained, walking requires attention as the ground is uneven, with sudden depressions often obscured by vegetation.

Shortly before crossing the river for the first time the trail splits, with one branch headed for the lake and the other continuing on to Gillespie Pass.  The lake trail then approaches Gillespie Stream, flowing down from the heights I will scale the following day.  After rock hopping across the water, the trail continues northwesterly to the next crossing, this time of Siberia Stream.  The channel here is wider, and there's no way to get over without either changing into water shoes or having wet feet.

I use my camp sandals to negotiate the frigid water, and continue on once I change back to my hiking shoes.  Now the trail follows Crucible Stream as it approaches the steep beech covered slope immediately to the west.

Crucible Stream

This is my second outdoor adventure in New Zealand, with the first being my attempt at Round The Mountain track on North Island. What I learned after that first hike is there is a difference between hiking I have done in other places and hiking here: Switchbacks are optional.

In thinking about it I can see why past trips have elevated my expectations.  In most previous instances creating a less severe grade via switchbacks was the sensible approach.  But in New Zealand there is definitely a "no nonsense" attitude about trails: you want to go uphill, then go uphill.  End of story.

The way to Crucible is a great example.  The stream descending from the alpine lake above tumbles down the slope through a narrow, heavily wooded gorge.  The energy and effort required to build the kind of trail I am looking for is simply not feasible.  Instead the route basically attacks the hill in a full frontal assault, no excuses.

The bush here is dense, and rather than clearing trees and shrubs for a path the trail makes use of what there is: roots.  Before the Gillespie Pass Circuit is over I will become intimate with roots, more so than I would desire.  More on that later.  For now it's using tangled anchors of beech to haul myself upwards.

I literally scramble using hands and feet through this natural jungle gym, thinking of how much fun it will be to come back this way.  The one real positive is that I'm so focused on what to grab next and which foot to wedge in what crevice that time goes by quickly, and eventually I reach an area where the terrain becomes slightly less challenging.

I should mention that the hike to Crucible gains around 3200 feet in elevation, with no small part of that coming from the all fours root route.  Once past that section there is still some climbing to do, but at least now there is something that looks like a trail.

An actual trail

This section is somewhat less arduous, but the bush is still thick with lots of smaller ups and downs as well as clambering over and through extensive root growth.  It makes for slower progress but every now and again you get a glimpse of where the trail is taking you.

Making progress

There's one final water crossing on the way up before the trail leaves the bush, and it's a little tricky because of large and slippery moss covered boulders.   I change my shoes again and slip into cold, knee deep glacial meltwater.

Once past the icy torrent of Crucible Stream, the path continues through the bush a bit longer before emerging into the basin beneath open but partly cloudy skies.

Crucible Lake is at the head of the valley

Feeling slightly less claustrophobic, I take time to observe some of the flora in the alpine meadow.  I don't recognize any of the species, but I'm not from these parts so I simply take pleasure in their beauty.

I can see the terminal moraine ahead of me at the head of the basin, and realize I'm getting close to the lake.

Almost there

The last bit is a few hundred yards of picking through a large jumble of rocks to reach the rim of the lake basin.  Once at the top you are greeted with a unique and worthwhile sight - small glacial icebergs floating in placid blue waters.

This was a first for me.  I've seen plenty of alpine lakes, and visited a few summer icefields in the lower 48.  But icebergs are certainly new to my experience.  I was inspired to fill my water bottle from the lake, and I'm pretty sure it was the cleanest water I drank on this trip.

After taking a break while admiring the vista, I decided it was time to head out as clouds were gathering on the peaks above.  As I began the trek back I couldn't help but admire the view down towards the valley I had just traveled.

The way back

The return journey was uneventful.  Having been through it I knew what to expect, and even the long traverse through the beech roots went much easier than anticipated.  Soon I was back to the floor of Siberia Valley and on my way to the cozy comforts of Siberia Hut.

I consider this hike to be fairly strenuous even as a day outing, but I can honestly say that if you pass this way you'll be sorry if you don't take advantage of the opportunity to see this unique gem.  I'm very glad I did.

Next:  Gillespie Pass and Young Hut (and more roots!)