This article was published in Tararua Tramper in November 2025
Not a drop to drink. A thirsty assault on the Kahurangi tops
15-18 February 2025
‘This is the old I hut site’, I gasped and then collapsed on my pack. My three tramping companions looked at me in disbelief. I knew what they were thinking. This small square of flat terrain could not possibly have supported a hut, yet it was the only flat piece of terrain we had seen since leaving the valley floor.
We had just completed 900 metres of relentless climbing from the Baton Valley and were close to expiring on this hot February day. We needed water and knew there was only one place on the Loveridge spur to source water: a small brook some twenty metres off track from the old hut site and sited down a steep bank. Without water there would be no traverse of the Kahurangi tops. More likely we would be descending with our tails between our legs. Whilst I supposedly had the best intel, having slept in the hut some twenty years earlier, I doubted myself. Even then the instructions on the old hut wall were cryptic: traverse twenty 20 perches off track and head downhill. I remember precariously descending into the gully whilst my husband Peter passed down the billies.
These days we have internet cover. So, to settle the dispute we checked the height of the old Loveridge hut on the Hut Baggers’ site. One entry reported 1,300 metres, some 150m above our current position. I looked up at the steep rock face ahead and felt that Mr. Hut Bagger was wrong but, being in the minority and now doubting my memory, I reluctantly continued onwards with the others. Well, we never found another flat spot. Now at 1,300 metres, and well above the rock face we looked upwards to ever-steepening tussock. We had no need to announce our collective mistake. It was 7.00 p.m. We were tired and thirsty and had to find a solution.
Helen was still recovering from an ankle sprain and did not feel it wise to descend steep terrain at the end of day. Unbeknown to me I was developing a stress fracture of my femur, and I was not keen to push on or go back. I spotted a large rock where I thought we could construct a bivvy for the night. We had about 750 ml of water between us - not enough for us all. Jan and Mary offered to carry on without packs to go hunting for a tarn. Helen and I began to build a shelter with our fly. The tarn hunters returned two hours later without success.
It was now dark, and so we reluctantly perched ourselves under our make-shift fly on a series of sloping tussock ledges interspersed with rocks and prickly alpine plants. Someone’s foot cradled another’s ear. I had the benefit of a slightly flatter site, but it came with a rocky platform and steep drops on either side. No tossing and turning for me that night, and the next morning I emerged from my cocoon somewhat mummified.
Dehydrated food saves weight but is useless without water! Fortunately, we had made our three lunches: fresh buns with cheese, cucumber, pickle and lettuce. So, tomorrow's lunch became tonight's dinner, providing us with some fluids. In the morning Jan woke with a migraine, and we knew from the previous night's mission that there was no water for at least an hour of climbing. Mary bravely descended to the hut site with her water bladder and found the water source.
What a hero! I met her part way, and we returned to our bivvy site with several litres of water. Jan recovered quickly with fluids. Hydrated, we now had the confidence to continue our planned traverse onto Loveridge Peak and then onwards to follow the natural ridge line eastwards to the base of the South Twin. We knew from an earlier trip that there was a large tarn where we planned to camp for the night on Paddys Ridge. We could then join the new route down Paddys Ridge that had recently been cut, to complete a circuit back to the Baton Valley.
The route did not disappoint and in the three days we saw no-one. Gentle tussock slopes morphed into steep scrambling around gendarmes, but after a scout or two we always found a way through. Finding water continued to be a challenge, requiring a descent into one of the headwaters of the many creeks draining the west face of the South Twin. Looking north we could see the expanse of the Arthur Tablelands and as we headed east the impressive peak of the South Twin loomed.
Two years earlier we four had all stood together on the summit of South Twin. What a delight to see the peak from another perspective. A final steep tussock slope led to the to the saddle between the east face of the South Twin and our tarn. Our camp that night had none of the horrors of restricting cups of tea. We descended Paddys Ridge on an obvious route. My knee protested and I limped behind the others. Some months later I went to see an orthopedic surgeon and had the stress fracture diagnosed. Doctor heal thyself.
Trip members Nina Sawicki, Jan Arnold, Mary Lancaster, Helen Wood