Motatapu Track - Arrowtown to Wanaka

Grade: Hard. Really hard.
Length: 34km.
Time: 6hrs, 7hrs, 7hrs (Macetown to Wanaka, excludes the Arrowtown to Macetown stretch, which took us 5hrs over the hill).
Getting to the start of the walk: We based ourselves in Wanaka and caught A-Class Shuttles across to Arrowtown ($20/head). They also picked us up from the Fern Burn car park at the trip’s end ($25/head – you need to book).
Transport tips: If you can time the Arrowtown end of your trip to coincide with a weekend, you will increase your chances of hitching a ride in to or out of Macetown.
Would you do it again: Nope. But I would consider walking into Rose's Hut and out, and into Highland Creek Hut and out. The middle day is 95% meritless, with the only positive being the view up the Motatapu Valley.
DOC/other information about walk: DOC track info. We did find it difficult to get much detailed information on the track. I suspect that is improving, as more people walk it. And there is an information board dedicated to the Track at the Wanaka Information Centre, which is worth reading prior to departing.
Map/s: F40 and F41.
Other tips worth sharing:
- Not a tramp to break in new boots. It is incredibly hard on your feet.
- We drunk a lot of water on the middle day in particular, despite the weather being a very kind. There was a stream about midway through the day, when we dipped down a beech forest, and we did re-fill at this without any negative consequences.
- Huts are $5/night.
- We would not recommend attempting in bad weather. The ridge on the south-west side of Jack Hall’s Saddle would be a challenge in a moderate wind, especially if you were approaching from the Fern Burn to Highland Creek Hut direction.
Author: Febbett
Month/year walked: October 2008


Indoor friends often ask me what is the appeal of tramping? My reply is always the same: that is reduces your usual bevy of worries down to the basics. You are hungry, you eat. You are thirsty, you drink. You are tired, you sleep.

After walking the Motatapu Track from Arrowtown to Wanaka, I have added another. When you are exhausted, you cry.

To be fair, we tackled slightly more than the DOC-described “demanding three day track”. Like many regular trampers, partner Warren and I generally come in slightly below the times indicated. So – when there was no obvious transport for the 15km from Arrowtown to Macetown – we thought an extra three hours at the start of the five-to-six hours indicated for the first day (Macetown to Roses Hut) would be do-able. That was our first mistake.

Our second mistake was to approach Macetown via a “short cut” over the aptly named Big Hill, rather than the flat route around the road. Five hours later, we realised that – not only would the road have been quicker and easier – we would have very likely managed to hitch a ride with a four-wheel driver heading to Macetown for a Sunday drive.

Having arrived at the official start of the track, we pressed on, taking the easier option of walking up the Arrow River for the first two hours, rather across the face of the tussocked hillside to our right. It was an enjoyable splash back and forth across the quaint river but time did march on and it was late afternoon when we decided that our tired legs would be struggling to get us over the saddle and down to the hut within the remaining daylight hours. We opted to set up camp by the river and let our weary bodies rest.

Twelve hours later, we awoke to frozen socks and boots.

And so the day began. First up, we tackled the short but near vertical climb out of the Arrow River bed, towards Roses Saddle. It was during the following two hours of solid climbing, from orange pole to orange pole, that we saw the only other walkers over our three days. We explained to the young Czech couple our plans to push on past Roses to Highland Creek Hut that day; we should have taken more notice of the look they gave each other, before they smiled and wished us luck. Possibly mistake number three.

We made the 12-bed Roses Hut by 11am. Beautiful hut. Pretty setting. Great toilet. We rested, ate, filled our water bottles and re-applied our sunblock. There was some debate about where the track would take us after lunch, on the five-to-six-hour stretch scheduled for the middle day of the track proper. I firmly believed it was through the valley. Warren let me live under that illusion for the hour duration of lunch, before softening the blow: “See that long, steep fence line in front of the hut? I’m afraid that’s our track out of here.” I got the feeling he would not have minded being wrong, just this once.

It was on the top of this hill that we enjoyed the tramp’s highlight – the magnificent Motutapu Valley, stretching back towards Arrowtown in one direction, and boldly making for Lake Wanaka in the other.

Four hours after hitting the fence line out of Roses Hut, we had returned to a similar altitude as the Hut and were standing with yet another endless tussock-encrusted hill before of us. It was at this point that I cried. We were officially halfway through the three-day trip. It was 4pm. Every step had been upwards, downwards or across the face of one tussock hill or another, with no “track” underfoot helping us along.

It was 6pm when we dragged our weary bodies to the top of a promising, shallow saddle and saw Highland Creek Hut ahead. On fresh legs and with no pack, we could have scampered across in 20 minutes. It was 50 minutes and two cruel ascents and descents later that we dragged ourselves through the door into the empty hut, spent but grateful.

Identical in layout to Roses Hut, Highland Creek Hut is in a breathtaking setting. Tucked alongside Highland Creek, the hut looks out towards a multitude of ridges and hillsides – various shades of brown and grey, all converging towards the hut. We could have been the only people left on the planet, as we sat on the verandah and enjoying our smoky cups of Lapsang Souchong.

The hut book, while only up to the fourth page of entries, made for interesting reading. There was much debate about the difficulty of the middle day’s terrain and under-estimation of the timeframe; there was also passionate commentary around the old “to bench or not to bench” chestnut.

Given that we had gone an hour over the DOC-predicted time for the Roses to Highland Creek Hut leg, we set off at 7am on the last day – desperate not to miss the 4.15pm shuttle from Fern Burn car park. The DOC timeframe is seven-to-nine hours and, as it transpired, we made the mainly downward day in seven hours.

It was an hour or so of sidling, before a steep climb up a razorback ridge to Jack Hall’s Saddle. To be honest, after the previous day, the ridge did not faze us. It was a cold, snowing day and resting more than a minute at a time was not a viable option. However, snow was preferable to wind, as parts of the razorback were narrow, with a steep tussock face on the left and an even steeper scree face on the right.

After the obligatory photo at the top, we made our way down the Fern Burn. This two-hour stretch of the trip – all of it along the side of the hill and on top of the previous day’s hill hugging – was surprisingly hard, especially on our feet.

Halfway back, we came across the partially-constructed Fern Burn Hut and three friendly builders. The hut will be a welcome addition to the track and I predict many people will enjoy walking up from the car park for a return overnight trip. The builders were clearly pleased to see some company that was not each other. They were helicoptered in for several days at a time and had not seen a soul in the first week. Clearly our night alone in the hut was not such a red herring.

From there, it was three hours back to the car park. We enjoyed a small stretch of benched track before entering the Stack Conservation Area. The beech forest is beautiful and, while there is a clear track, it is hairy, over tree roots and along soft banks.

The final half hour through the Stacks was a pleasure and the 40 minutes onflat grazing land alongside the Fern Burn provided a much-needed opportunity to free up the contracted muscles in our legs.

It was a good feeling to see the car park materialise around a corner. We happily kicked off our boots and rested under a watery sun for two uncommitted hours.

Any challenging tramp takes a few days to digest mentally, before rose-tinted glasses bring into focus the beautiful views and moments of awe, blurring the ugly climbs and snoring hut companions. However, my memories of the Motatapu are dominated by watching my footing across steep tussock faces in the pursuit of a mocking trail of orange poles. I suspect this is one tramp that, for me, may never enjoy the rose tint of time.

Timaru - a circumnavigation

Grade: Easy peasy
Length: Approx 20km
Time: 7 hrs
Getting to the start of the walk: Just get yourself to the edge of Timaru! Seriously though, I would recommend: SH1 at Saltwater Creek and head in either direction; the bottom of Coonoor Road and head in either direction; or the BMX park in Centennial Park (driving in the stone arch gateway on Otipua Road and down to the bottom of the hill).
Transport tips: We did it over two days - 5 hrs one day and 2 hrs the next - but you could easily do in one day.
Would you do it again: Yes.
DOC/other information about walk: The staff in the Timaru Information Centre were great and sent us off with all the relevant brochures. Highly recommend that you have these various maps, as there's the odd section where you do wonder where you should head next - particularly around the wharf area.
Author: Febbett
Month/year walked: January 2009


South Canterbury's infamous Billy the Hunted One, indirectly, inspired our walk around Timaru. But not in the way you might think.

Favourite Nephew and I where days away from an attempted ascent of Little Mount Peel, including a night at the Peel Forest camping ground (see previous blog). However, two days out from the tramp, news reports were full of an escaped prisoner hiding out in the Peel Forest area.

I suggested to Mother that it may be irresponsible for me to take an 11 year old into a potentially dangerous situation. She replied "nonsense". So that was that. The original trip proceeded, without any incidence. (Actually, it gave us a great topic of conversation for the day and added some intrigue to our dashes to the toilet block and kitchen in the evening!)

However, before we got the "nonsense" call, I had already hatched a back-up tramp - a circumnavigation around Timaru. So, it became the next tramp on the list.

Dad dropped us at Saltwater Creek before work on the first day, took our photo and waved us farewell down the little path towards the sea - dump on the left, creek on the right. Fantastic. Spotting the dead sparrows caught in the high wire fence around the dump made for a variation on "I spy".

Some patient surfers caught our eye for a while when we hit the coast. From our vantage point near the Caledonian Grounds, we did marvel that they were happy to be cold so long, to catch so few waves. Surfing really is a form of religion though.

Finding our way from the end of South Beach through to the Bay area was a little hairy, but fun. I grew up in Timaru but saw roads and interesting industrial yards for the first time. You did need to watch out for hazards - like big trucks and, potentially, trains - but otherwise it was great nosing around a corner of the town which was both old and new at the same time.

How often can you stop for a nice coffee or milkshake partway around your tramp? We ducked up the old steps at the bottom of the Port Loop road, arriving up on The Terrace, and around the corner to the cafe.

From there, it was down the Piazza and onto the Bay. Yes, we did take the Piazza lift, but it was the school holidays and someone had recently let off a fart bomb - or at least that's the story Fav Nef was telling...

Along the Benvenue Cliffs, we took in the sea air - before heading past the freezing works, where we tried not to take in the air. Fav Nef was yabbering away about how you could hear the pigs at the works and I was in the throes of telling him that I was 100% sure the works were only for sheep and beef, when we rounded a corner and a separate little works appeared on our left - a pork works. And, yes, you could hear the pigs. While tramping is traditionally about engaging the senses, that particular stretch of tramp was about protecting the senses.

But soon enough we were out on the main road again and weaving our way across the streets to Pages Road. Then down Mountainview Road to the St Thomas's church corner, where our taxi driver (Dad...) collected us from our the grassy verge.

Day two started from the precise same stretch of grassy verge and we were soon down Gleniti Road and into the Scenic Reserve. I was disproportionately curious about this leg of the trip. As children, we'd never been allowed to spend time down in the reserve. To be fair, when I was 13 or so, a chap had been murdered down there - something to do with a pig - so, in retrospect, I can see where the Olds were coming from. Nevertheless, I was keen to check it out.

What a hidden gem. Possibly the highlight of the trip was the discovery of the frozen duck pond. We could have spent hours throwing ice out onto the pond's solid surface and listening to it splintering off in all directions.

We wound around the reserve, past the BMX track, along the back of the Riding for the Disabled. And there, on our right, was Saltwater Creek, growing ever wider as we headed back towards the coast.

The Timaru City Council has done a great job of developing the walks around Timaru. They are well built, well planted and just make you want to keep on walking.

If you live in Timaru and haven't been out for a play on these walkways yet, then pull on a pair of walking shoes and go and have a nose. You'll see a side of Timaru you never knew existed.

Little Mount Peel, South Canterbury

Grade: Easy-Moderate (I walked it with 11-year-old nephew)
Time: 2 hrs, 45 mins up and 1 hr, 15 mins down!
Getting to the start of the walk: We cheated ever so slightly and drove up to a little carpark at the top of Blandswood. It probably saved 30 mins of climbing. Or you can park at the main carpark, on the road to the camping ground.
Transport tips: Nice straightforward tramp, in that you do return to your car at the end of the day.
Would you do it again: Yes.
DOC/other information about walk: There is a very good DOC brochure available at Geraldine and elsewhere, which outlines this walk and the other Peel Forest Walks.
Author: Febbett
Month/year walked: April 2009


A little tramping mantra that I have come to rely upon - sometimes through gritted teeth - is "one mouthful at a time". It stems from the age-old question: How does a mouse eat an elephant? Answer: One mouthful at a time.

Let's face it. That's exactly how some tramps feel.

Little Mount Peel is not one of those tramps. However, 11-year-old Favourite Nephew was a tad anxious. His school class had recently attempted an ascent of the mighty mount - as I recall my own class doing 25 years earlier - and only "the really fit and hyper kids" had made it to the top. So Fav Nef and I made a pact - that we'd walk for two hours and assess how we were going. Deal.

It might be a relatively short walk, but there are some steep sections and that's when I shared my mouse mantra with the next generation. He appreciated exactly what it was about and just plugged along, one mouthful at a time. In his case, this is also a literal tramping term, as he does eat an enormous amount of scroggin...

It was strange walking up the mount for the first time since I'd been 12. I could distinctly remember a section of boardwalk and it was very satisfying, about half way up, to come across it - exactly as I remembered it. Unbelievably, I can't recall if I made it to the top when I was Fav Nef's age but - given I was neither "really fit nor hyper", and that I don't have a top-of-the-mountain recollection - I suspect not.

In no time at all of steadily putting one foot after the other, we found ourselves looking down upon the carpark, the Peel Forest village and the braided Rangitata River.

By the time we hit our two-hour mark, we were so close to the top, we could almost throw a stone at the hut. Of course, it wasn't quite as close as it looked, but we both agreed it was close enough. So we had a good scroggin recharge, assessed the best approach (there is only one) and set off on the final burst to the summit.

And before we knew it, there we were: just like the wizard in Lord of the Rings, looking down upon our South Canterbury subjects.

There is nothing quite as satisfying as standing on the top of a hill - one that you weren't sure you would be standing on top of when you set off that morning.

The trip down the hill was considerably faster - partly driven Fav Nef deciding at the top that he needed a toilet stop... For the record, there is a toilet at the top, but no toilet paper. Of course.

Anyway, we successfully (see previous paragraph) made it down to the car and our cabin at the campground, with plenty of the day to spare.

We must have looked like a couple of old fisherman, parked up on the small deck of our cabin, munching on chippies and drinking fizzy drink from our tin mugs. Well, when you're neither fit nor hyper, you have to fuel these adventures some how...

Richmond Trail, Lake Tekapo

Grade: Easy (I walked it with 11-year-old nephew)
Length: 13km
Time: 4 hrs, 15 mins, which included lots of photo and scoggin stops, and a leisurely lunch
Getting to the start of the walk: You can walk in either direction. If you're cunning, drive to the Round Hill end of the trail and then you walk across and down - rather than up and across. Drive up the right-hand side of Lake Tekapo. After about 15km, you drive over a bridge, then immediately over a cattle stop. On the right is a DOC sign indicating one end of the trial. You can either start there, or keep driving. If you keep driving, turn right into the Round Hill Skifield Road. Drive until you are 2km short of the skifield, then you will see another DOC sign on your right. Be aware it is a shingle road.
Transport tips: You could walk to one end and back in one day, but it would be a pretty long day. Ideally, get someone to drop you and pick you up. Or - if it's the ski season and the field is open - you could realistically catch a ride up the road and back, if you timed it to catch the skifield traffic.
Would you do it again: Absolutely.
DOC/other information about walk: It was a struggle to find out much about the walk beforehand - even from the Information Centre in Tekapo.
Author: Febbett
Month/year walked: September 2009


Favourite Nephew and I have been doing quite a bit of tramping of late. He's 11 and my philosophy is that it needs to be 90% fun and 10% challenge. That means plenty of gum snakes and chocolate in the scroggin, not tackling walks that are too hard or hilly, lots of photos, and a billy boil up at lunchtime.

Mother had heard of a "day walk" near Round Hill, so we decided it would be our next adventure. Despite considerable effort, trying to find out about the trail before we set off, we found nothing. Even the Tekapo Information Centre was light on facts. So we just got on with it.

I have to admit that, as we passed the first DOC sign indicating the start/end of the trail, it seemed an awful long drive until we reached the second sign, which was basically right at the skifield. I did wonder if we might have bitten off more than we could chew. But it was a sunny day, we had loads of water and food, and turning around only to drive back to Tekapo seemed a complete cop out.

We needn't have worried. It was a magic day. We blitzed the 13 km in just over four hours and saw countryside like we'd never seen before. Tarns, glimpses of the glorious blue lake over snowy crests, views over our shoulder of the skifield lifts making their calm journey up the hill.

Essentially, the trail hugged the base of the mountains for most of the day, then - with about a third of the walk to go - it swung right and headed down towards the road and lake. You could envisage bullock wagons using the trail a century ago - and the four-wheel drive tracks indicated that it still saw tyre action these days.

Lunch was an event in itself. Fav Nef had spotted an inviting big rock at the top of a hill and it was decided - that was the perfect spot for lunch. And it was. Noodles out of a pot, sitting on top of a massive rock - does life get any better if you're 11?

We surprised ourselves and the obliging grandparents/taxi service by making such a good time. We even had to throw rocks in the river for half an hour until pick-up time rolled around, waving to the skiers as they made their weary drive home. They might have felt pretty pleased with themselves, but not as pleased as us.