Month: February 2020

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Taihape Gumboot Gallop recce

Race day is getting closer, and I was keen to experience the course myself first hand before the event. Curious to know what the terrain would be like underfoot and how hilly the hills actually are. We were also in need of elevation maps. The plan was to walk the whole course, which I figured should take me around three and a half to four hours. I ended up jogging two to three kilometres.

We left early from Palmy for the hour and a half drive to Taihape. Actually, as opposed to previously when the event was still organised by someone else, the course is now about seven kilometres south of Taihape in the Utiku area. At the Gravity Canyon turnoff to the right, to be precise. Just across the Mangatainoka Gorge the first right takes you to the start of the event about 400-500 metres up the road. There’s two paddocks of which one will be used for parking and the other for the race base, the gumboot gallop dash, et cetera.

Instead of parking in front of the farmers gates where the actual start/finish of the event will be, we decided to drive up the road to park at the bottom of the paper road. This meant that we would have to adapt the resultant elevation map to reflect the true course.

21.1km & 12.8km course maps

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21.1km course profile

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12.8km course profile

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The sun was already high and the mercury was rising. The patchy clouds weren’t enough to protect us from the blazing sun.

We started off on a slight downhill on a gravel road going towards the actual start of the event. I found the gravel to be fairly coarse in places, but in the car tracks it was fine. After a short walk we met the first farmer. We introduced ourselves and after exchanging some pleasantries we were on our way again. Up ahead we could see the downhill gravel road winding through the hills making a little jog seem appealing. Since the middle of October I haven’t gotten back into running again, apart from the odd kilometres here and there during our walking regime since the beginning of the year. As a result of this, jogging suddenly felt a bit strange. I felt out of shape, bouncing all over the road without rhythm or rhyme. If a sack of potatoes could run, that would aptly describe my style.

Let me explain. Our last running event was the Wairarapa Country Half where, apart from a host of other issues, I also developed severe pain on my left hip bone. My immediate thought was that it must be a stress fracture. I never had it checked out and we stopped running altogether. The pain felt similar to the pain I went to see a physio for on the right hip which just opened Pandora’s box resulting in a cascade of issue and to finally be diagnosed with FAI (femoral acetabular impingement). I had an inkling that the outcome might be the same, so opted to not go through the motions.

As the days and weeks went by, I felt fatter, got unfitter, ate too much junk, and was generally just not going in any direction I wanted to see myself going in. Usually when this happens and all else fails I find a backpacking trip into the wilderness very helpful to bring some perspective. So we took the plunge and ventured into the Tararua Ranges over New Year.

Getting back home after the five days on the second of January and realising that we started the year off by walking eight or more kilometres each day, I got the idea that maybe this is something I can try and keep up. Eight kilometres is a bit of a push and being partial to the number seven we rounded it down to seven. For the most part we’ve kept it up so far, but there are some days that it is just impossible to get all the kilometres done. During February we decided to introduce some jogging back into the regime and started running one of the seven kilometres. We only did this a few times before this recce, so running or jogging is not part of my reality at present.

We made arrangements with the farmer who’s property we would be crossing, and after we passed the real start we turned right to follow Gorge Road uphill to the farmer’s property. On the way there he rang Gerry and said he will meet us when we pass his house. A kilometre or so later we passed his gate where he was sipping on some coffee and also offering us a cuppa which we reluctantly and politely declined. We still had a long day ahead and if we started having extended breaks so soon already, we might not get going again. Some quick introductions and a chat before we carried on to turn right onto the gravel road from where we would cross his land. He met us again at the gate on his quad bike as he and his brother (whom we also met later) had to move some stock.

The paddock was hard packed and dry. The drought is claiming its toll and the farmer informed us that his sheep will have to go to the works earlier than normal, as feeding is becoming increasingly challenging. Passing a couple of mostly dried-up puddles, the sheep were standing in the mud to get some relief from the heat. When we were checking out the course towards the end of last year these puddles were still little dams.

This section is mostly flat. Mt Ruapehu is visible on these higher parts of the course and in all directions the hilly farmlands frame a pretty picture.

When we reached the top of the paper road it looked far down to get to the bottom where the road switches back. Turns out it is not as steep as I thought it would be and was quite runnable. Gerry charged down and I trotted along on the couple hundred metres downhill. Once you get to the switch back at the bottom the downhill gets more gradual.

Back at the bottom of the paper road we passed the car and stocked up on some provisions for our second lap. At the fork at the bottom of the gradual, fast downhill on gravel road we turned left to take on the gradual uphill back to the top at the farmers gate. By then we were approaching the warmest time of the day. A farmer came driving past while we were checking out the views. Suddenly I caught something in the corner of my eye. It was none other than a couple of bulls on a little ridge next to the road. They were on the wrong side of the fence, and while I was frantically scouting for a fence to jump should they start charging, Gerry called one of the farmers on the road. Turns out the cattle were grazing the “long acre” and was meant to be there. When we drove by afterwards we noticed three bulls still calmly standing in the shade and swatting at flies with their tails.

Our second time through the farmers property and down the paper road went smoothly and I tried to jog little bits of the downhill where possible. Back at the car Gerry dropped his pack to run to the actual finish, while I drove the car back to pick him up.

The final section back on the road has a nice little climb, but also good shade among the tall trees. Sheep were huddled up under a tree to find some cool relief from the sun.

Although varied terrain might not be to everyone’s taste it is an event that I won’t mind doing. It is social, has varied terrain, great views, and should be a fun day out. Fingers crossed for good weather – not too hot, not too cold, and just the right amount of wind to cool down the runners and walkers.

 

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Powell hut and back

5-6 February 2020
Distance: Approximately 18km out-and-back

Vege curry for tea.
Emergency soup, lunch, dessert and snacks.
Whiskey – a great tipple on a tramp.
Paraphernalia, and white gold.
Oops. My 24 litre pack is not up to the task.
Coffee and a last pack-check before heading off.
Mountain House shelter.
Lending a helping hand.
Powell in the mist.
Shenanigans in the wind.
Photo by Deon.

At short notice we, together with friends, decided to make the trip up to Powell hut, spending the night and walking back down the next day. Since Waitangi Day was on the Thursday, we decided to make a midweek outing of it, hoping to have the hut to ourselves. This turned out to not quite be the case.

Our friends arrived from New Plymouth on the Tuesday night. By then I had started sorting out our food and making piles of things to take along. Luckily the hut has gas cookers, so we need not carry our little stove and fuel. It is also a new hut (6 months old) which is well insulated and has a fire place so we went for our thin little sleeping bags. I call them sleeping bags, but they might actually rather be a thin down inner of sorts?

The forecast looked okay-ish. A light drizzle in the morning was predicted, to make way for clear conditions the next day.

We left from Palmy a bit after 8am to arrive around 9:30 at the Holdsworth campgrounds. A last cup of coffee (this seems to have become habit) and a trip to the toilet where we also filled up water bottles. It was on the cool side and we all donned rain jackets. Luckily this could be packed away soon after we started, but the cold breeze stayed with us all the way up the mountain.

We were all carrying smaller packs (around the 32 to 40 litre size; mine was actually a 24 litre and way too small) and wearing trail shoes, which makes the going far easier than having to do it with a heavy pack and boots. There’s obviously a place for these, especially if you go into more rugged terrain, mud, ice, wet and cold conditions. I cannot imagine how cold a pair of trail shoes will be in snowy conditions, or after a stream crossing and an ice cold wind. Trail and running shoes are often purposefully made to be more aerated to allow air to cool down your feet, and water to disperse through the fabric. Exactly what you don’t want on top of a mountain in adverse conditions.

Following the gradual incline over the Gentle Annie Track we passed the Rocky Lookout. It was still cloudy so we couldn’t see the hut high up above.

At the Mountain House shelter we stopped for lunch. While sitting there and reading some of the comments written on the walls, another group of three sauntered in, also to have lunch. They planned to go up and back down on the same day.

We passed the turn off to Totara Flat hut, across Pig’s Flat where we eventually reached the point where the final and steepest couple of kilometres of the day began. Some really big steps are a test of one’s quad strength and capabilities, and I’m disheartened to say that I’ve lost quite a bit of strength in that department. It is a good reminder that I need to do something about my muscle strength before I lose it all.

Arriving at the hut around mid-afternoon we made some coffee and soup. It was a few degrees centigrade colder than at the carpark. A couple that was there already, but who was out on a walk when we arrived, had returned and not long after another pair arrived. We were playing rummy and later still poker while sipping on bourbon, waiting for the clouds to subside so that we could see a bit further than the porch. It was also getting colder. Shortly after 5pm I lit the fire. In stark contrast to our previous Powell hut experience (which included a bunch of kids) everybody was quiet and mostly kept to themselves.

It was still light outside when every now and again the clouds would tease us with a slither of blue sky, just to close up again. All along the valleys below were covered in clag (I thought clag was mud and the right word is murk, but it turns out everybody in NZ talks about clag when they talk about mist or low cloud). We cooked dinner (vegetable curry and sipping on bourbon for us, and pasta with a glass of pinot noir for our friends) and ate far too much! I over-catered by about three people and the two of us ate it all. Another tipple to wash it down followed by salty caramel chocolate. When I went to the room to fetch the chocolate, I discovered with horror that the big window in our room had blown wide open and an ice cold wind was undoing all the warmth produced by the fire.

At about 11pm we were ready for bed. Lying in our sleeping bags (with polyprop top and bottom, socks, beanie and a thin down jacket in my case) contemplating life and listening to the wind tucking on every nook and granny of the hut we were hoping for clear skies and less wind come morning for a trip to the trig.

As was the case the previous time in this hut, by about midnight a couple of people entered the hut and started looking for a place to sleep. In the 32 bunk hut, we were only eight, but we occupied all four the rooms in pairs of two. One of the late comers decided to sleep in the six bunk room with our friends, while the other spent the night with our neighbours in the other ten bunk room.

In the morning we were treated to a clear day. Unfortunately, the wind was still blowing a gale. We made coffee to have with our breakfast, and started adding pieces to a puzzle that someone left there for everyone’s enjoyment.

After breakfast we went for a walk uphill, but only made it to the first signpost, a short walk above the hut. Some slips and narrow ridges to negotiate in a gale proved too much for my frail nerves so we opted to turn around. I’m not good with wind or heights at the best of times. Combine the two, and you have me whimpering back to shelter faster than Joshua Cheptegei can run a 5k.

Back at the hut we made another cup of coffee while day walkers were starting to reach the hut. Two of them were none other than the pair of marshals (from Search and Rescue) who were also at the hut for the Jumbo-Holdsworth race two weeks before.

We packed the last of out stuff to start the trip back down. Since it was Waitangi Day the track was very busy with lots of people on day outings to the hut or trig, or across to Jumbo hut. A huge group with a lot of kids was on their way to spend the night at the hut and I thanked my lucky stars that we didn’t have to endure a million noisy kids cooped up in a hut with nowhere to go.

At the Rocky Point lookout we stopped for lunch. The platform and rocks were all packed with walkers and we even met a lady who, upon seeing Gerry’s Tarawera shirt, struck up a conversation. Turns out it was Kerry (SQUADRUN head honcho)’s mom.

By then the sun had come out, and nearing the lower parts of the mountain it was very hot. The last few kilometres back to the car were luckily mainly in the shade. Lots of picnic-goers were making use of the lovely day, swimming in the stream, taking dogs for a walk, or spending the day at the camp ground.

Back in Masterton we bought some water and cold drinks for the road before heading back to Palmy. A quick in and out and lovely to be able to share it with friends. Here’s hoping we can do many more such trips in the months and years to come.