By Iliya Shulin, 26 January 2025
We were set to begin from Christchurch. Lewis would drive down from Wellington, his car full of stuff he was transporting to his new flat in Dunedin. I would fly down on the early 8:40 arrival into Christchurch and Tommy would somehow end up there by his own crazy Thomper ways. We’d meet up, then drive to Dunedin to drop Lewis’s stuff off, spend the night at his flat and go off to some road end, hoping to get to Volta Glacier.
Lewis and I fulfilled our end — we met up a bit before noon. Tommy on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. Calling him yielded nothing more than a musical note (his voicemail?!). We decided to be productive and did some shopping, but once that was done and long forgotten we were still wandering the area around Christchurch airport, periodically calling the Tommy — to no avail but that single musical note (F#? I don’t know, neither of us had perfect pitch). That note was heard many times.
Our wanderings were not adventureless. We found an abandoned kindergarten — the Rabbit Patch. The symbol of which was some demented rabbit, seen here as painted onto each of its parking spaces:
Definitely worth a visit if you are ever stuck in Christchurch waiting for Tommy the Thomping Thomper.
We also examined a Totem pole, gifted to Christchurch for some reason or other, and played basketball at a court in a business park, it being equipped with a fully functioning basketball. The day being hot, we soon were as thirsty as travellers in the desert, and we returned to the car, deciding to venture to the cool and refreshing shade of the Christchurch Botanical Gardens. There, waiting on bench by a serene pond and shaded by an oak, we finally got news from the man himself — a call from Tommy! Promptly answered by Lewis, we found out he had just been at a wedding in Hanmer Springs. Our plans of getting to Dunedin that day were dashed.
Lewis and Tommy began brainstorming our plan for the next 7 days, listing place name and options, me listening on pretending to understand what they were talking about. Matters were certainly complicated by the fact that Lewis’s car was full of all his worldly possessions. But, the Thomsons soon reached concencus. Lewis knew some people in Christchurch who were willing to look after his stuff for the duration of the trip (many thanks to them) and we set off to Wataroa, us from Christchurch and Tommy from the Ol’ Springs.
We arrived at 22:30, mucking about the 20 or so minutes we waited for Tommy (perhaps with a visit to the deserted women’s bathroom, which was way nicer than the men’s — it even had working lights! I was subjected to pissing in the dark, with a leak in the roof dripping on me).
The Tommy arrived in the kindly Tadgh’s (yes, that spelling is correct) brand new yellow car (I do not remember the make or model) and let us camp on her lawn for the night, for which we were grateful. We all appreciated my Lenin’s sarcophagus of a tent which has thankfully now been sold to some unfortunate soul.
It was there plans were made for Ivory Lake. We knew there would be at least one day of heavy rain, so that limited us as we had to account for a hut day. We set out next morning, past Ross and up the winding Totora Valley Road, disembarking at the road end. After a bit of a faff to repack our gear (not at all to do with me), and the relinquishing of ant infested bacon and crushed eggs to under Lewis’s car (they would come back to haunt us), we began the tramp. Immediately I became aware that I was outmatched—the Thomasons are a tall and long-legged bunch. I have a suspicion they were born like giraffes; dropping 2 metres down and walking from day 1, at the risk of being left behind by their respective parents, because of course they were born on a tramp (they must have been).
We passed a historic homestead and Mikonui Flats Hut before the track steepened as it began to climb Dickie Spur. I tried my hand at navigation, scrutinising the topo. Tommy and Lewis kept quiet when I surmised that we were almost at the hut, when in fact we were less than halfway there. The climb was eased by political discourse, we debated libertarianism, left vs right economic policy, monopolies as well as the role of religion in the modern West. Also Tommy fell and it was funny. I lost the thread of conversation as it got steeper and I had to shut down parts of my brain to keep function of my legs (there would be a lot of that to come).
Looking behind us, we beheld sprawling views of the West Coast valleys and Tasman Sea. Bright red Rata was in bloom, and wildflowers were sprinkled here and there.
I was told that the hillside below was bright red:
It’s barely red. I didn’t notice the Rata until Lewis and Tommy stopped to gape at it. I was labelled as colourblind (I am slightly but that’s beside the point). Although, after gruesomely editing the image to bring out the colour, I do admit that it does look quite red:
But I would say that the first image looked more like it actually was.
Anyway, after about 8.5 hours since leaving the road end we got to Dickie Spur hut and spent the night there. Unlike the Rata this hut was bright red.
Most of the next day we followed a stream/river bed. I was exceeding poor at this. Our plan was to reach Ivory Lake Hut, with lunch at Top Tuke, but my pace was not up to the Thomasons’ standards. Boulder hopping in stiff heavy boots proved to be quite a task (for me at least), and we only managed to as far as Top Tuke that day. We now had no chance to get to Ivory Lake, heavy rain being forecast for the next day.
Nonetheless the day was beautiful as well as the landscape. Pristine water and rock formations abounded.
Tommy had a laydown on a slab of rock.
He also took a skinny dip but I didn’t take pictures of that.
9 hours after leaving Dickie Spur we reached Top Tuke (in record time). The hut featured some (what we assumed were) meteorological instruments, which we may or may not have messed with. The hut was cozy, on a plain of moss which was very pleasant to walk on barefoot. It had plenty of firewood, but no fireplace. It also had no long drop or water tank, making it the best hut for a hut day. It also had a full 6-pack of 2 minute noodles, which was no longer there when we left.
My munching on the noodles attracted a visitor:
Turns out Wekas like two minute noodle crumbs (yes I was eating them dry).
The following day it was pouring rain (as we expected). The hut day was quite enjoyable, we spent it reading, comparing our calisthenics skills and debating various things, such as whether mountain climbing is climbing. Wandering around the hut revealed beautiful flowers and moss, and a peculiar deciduous native tree, which looked much like generic fruit tree. Also Tommy drank some green water to prove to me that you can’t get sick from drinking water in the bush, when I protested about drinking said water (spoiler alert; Tommy did not get sick). We made plans to bivy somewhere up on Galena Ridge, officially forgoing making it to Ivory Lake.
The start of the next day yielded perhaps the toughest terrain I have yet traversed, which I covered at a record-breakingly slow pace; waist to chest high tussock interspersed with spear grass, on steeply undulating topography (no track of course for the most part). Needless to say the Thompson’s were soon far ahead with their long gaits and high steps. I felt utterly hopeless, my going being so slow. What kept me going was first, the lack of any other option, and second that once the ordeal was over I knew I would not care how difficult it was, only how I responded to it and whether I overcame it. Somehow, I made it out to where the tussock got shorter and going easier. Soon we were climbing up out the valley, it getting progressively more rocky and there being less and less vegetation. Tommy went for a frantic search for his phone, which, if lost in the tussock, would be impossible to find, yet nonetheless he searched for it, to avail. This was because it was in his pack – which I discovered later that day (or maybe the next day) when he asked me to retrieve something from it.
Below is a view back at Top Tuke Hut, just visible in the distance. The terrain I mentioned is visible in the valley.
We made it to the scree (which was technically not scree, according to the Thompsons), exceedingly steep and slippery. Eventually we got to the permanent snow and continued to climb the slopes equipped with crampons. As Tommy and Lewis set off, I got this great photo:
We went up the snow slope visible just above Lewis and Tommy to reach the top of the ridge. For some reason I kept on sliding down, my crampons refusing to take proper hold, but eventually we reached the top of the ridge, where we had lunch. Lewis and I waited while Tommy left to catch a peek of Ivory Lake on the other side of the ridge. We amused ourselves trying to slide big rocks down the snow slopes, and Lewis sang “Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold”, it was a very apt place for the song indeed.
For some reason or other, perhaps the effect of the fresh mountain air, the sight of the snow, the song or the mineral salts from the two minute noodles, my pace quickened for the remainder of the tramp, despite the going being not that much easier. We made solid progress up to summit of Mount Beaumont upon Tommy’s return.
Passing potential bivy spot after bivy spot in favour of further progress, we eventually decided that it was time to make camp. Tommy whipped up a shelter from a tarp, rope and 2 ice axes (right on top of a large rock, but with our combined 3 man-power we were able to dig it out and move it). It was a fantastic spot:
After spending the evening admiring the view and the sunset, and a cozy night, we set off yet again. Deciding to go all the way to Mikonui Flats hut.
It was a long day, filled with beautiful views as we slowly descended. The flowers were particularly wonderful:
Of course we continued our political discourse, this time discussing political pundits (Ben Shapiro was mentioned) and climate change. We also bartered food. My pork fat (salo, for those who know) for Tommy's chocolate and Lewis's crackers.
We eventually got to Healey Creek Hut and had lunch there. This is what the approach looked like:
After that there is no much to say about our trip. We pushed on that day and decided to stay at Mikonui Flats Hut again instead of finding a hostel somewhere. The following day we drove back to Christchurch with a quick adventure through Cave Stream. In Christchurch, we stayed with Ivan and Sophie for the night, Tommy and Lewis’s friends (many thanks to them for letting us stay with them). We played Codenames and drank spirits. The next day we said our farewells. Lewis headed off to Dunedin to begin Uni, me to a the airport to get back to Wellington, and Tommy decided to go hitchhiking to somewhere or other.
This was a very enjoyable tramp although the hardest I have done to date. I learned a lot from Lewis and Tommy and am glad they let a relatively inexperienced tramper come along. These sorts of “off the beaten track” sort of tramps are definitely the most fun.