Leader: Mike Glover
Every three years or so, our club tackle the Arthur Range, walking from Mt Campbell to the Lodestone in a single day. This 17-km pilgrimage traverses five peaks over 1300m and requires a high level of fitness and aptitude in negotiating a route along beech-clad ridges and up steep rock faces – all off-track. After all the scratches, bumps and bruises, the trade-off, on a good day, is unsurpassed views in all directions, and the pure joy of spending time in the mountains.
It’s 6am when six of us cram into a Hilux ute and drive into the pre-dawn murk towards
Motueka. A steep 4WD road meanders up Rocky River Road onto the forested flanks of Mount Campbell, with its trademark television tower guiding us to the summit. By 8am we have our boots on and our polarfleece jackets off. The low-angled sun is illuminating the landscape from the nor-east, heating up the rocks beneath our feet. It promises to be a perfect day.
We splash sunblock over our skin before heading south toward a subsidiary peak. At this altitude any vegetation is scarce so we make excellent progress down the hill. With clear visibility, our compass work is really a redundant exercise as we crash through open beech forest onto some sunny saddles. The entire route is along a series of disjointed ridgetops – there is no water supply.
After several hours we top out onto the exposed expanse of Hoary Head, a monolithic table-top of shattered marble, 1473m above the Riwaka River. From this high vantage, we gaze across the vast wilderness of Kahurangi.
To our north is Hailes Knob, the tower on Takaka Hill; beyond that is Golden Bay, glistening under the punishing summer glare; then, squinting into the midday sun, I gasp – is that really Mount Egmont? My companion confirms this sighting, and we rave on how blessed we are.
A pair of keas arrive to inspect us, and we see a chamois wandering the lonely tops of Hoary Head.
From the summit cairn we spot our support crew on our next objective: the serrated top of Crusader. Two tiny dots are moving as one, along the razorback summit ridge – Brian and Kurt had volunteered to park their van at Flora carpark, and do our journey in reverse.
Dropping off a broad ridge we pass a cosy campsite, large enough for a couple of tents. Pressing on, the scrubby ridgeline narrows into a torturous knife-edge, forcing us to sidle beneath rock outcrops and make tricky balancing moves. Under a canopy of dracophyllum we rendezvous with Brian and his mate.
Here I am, staring up the north face of Crusader; 60-degrees of sheer terror. Back in 2009 the club had climbed this truncated pyramid in a directissimo from the Graham Valley – nine hours of wild scrub-bashing and mild rock climbing. From the top, I had peered over the edge in disbelief as to why any human would willingly choose to climb the north face.
Now, here I was, standing at the base, pondering the exact same question. Make no mistake, it wasn’t the angle of the climb which had my nerves on edge, no, it was more sinister than that. As Brian had warned us, the entire face was guarded with an army of wild Spaniards, ready to draw blood from even the most cunning and careful bushman. It wasn’t long before our limbs had blood mixed into the sweat and suncream.
It’s 2pm. I have hauled myself up Crusader, the crux of the route at 1428m, and lunch is long overdue. I sit down with the others and lick my wounds.
Someone spots stick figures moving along Hoary Head; it’s our support party. We photograph the panorama from Tappy to Taranaki, naming the peaks we know.
I lead off down through some beaut stands of dracophyllum onto a saddle with our next waypoint, the gentle slopes of McMahon. The cabbage trees here provide much-needed shade as we push on along open clay pans.
The afternoon sun is low when we make for our final objective, the lofty subalpine heights of Lodestone, still five km distant. Thankfully, the open silver beech forest provides easy travel, and some kind soul has marked a rough route with pink tape.
The final summit push has us clambering up tussock to a radio mast at 1462m. I am ecstatic to be here. It was my ancestors who first climbed Lodestone in 1863 before exploring the Tablelands, starting the gold rush, and later grazing sheep there.
John Salisbury and his brothers had cut a track over this mountain, down into Flora Stream. According to the surveyors who followed years later, it was ‘fit for neither man nor beast.’
Half an hour brings us down to Flora carpark, our journey’s end. It’s taken us over ten hours.
Intrepid explorers were: Mike, Diedre & Wade Glover, Dion Pont, Andy Clark & Ray Salisbury (scribe). Support crew were: Brian Renwick & visitor Kurt Mullis