The Finale Road Trip – Part two: PASSing through the South Island

We celebrated Wanaka Wednesday with a muffin. We were meant to skydive, but it was cancelled because of high winds. Instead, we slogged up Isthmus Peak, inspired by Lucy and Rich's winter run and sustained by stunning scenery and interesting camera modes (which was lucky, since I forgot the food). 

At the top there were great views of both Lake Wanaka and Lake Hawea (the isthmus being between the two). We jogged back to the car to reach an excellent spacious breakfast-providing Airbnb in the sleepy village of Luggate, visiting its only restaurant/pub/place-with-lights-on for some warm grub. 

As the week neared its end we had one more challenge to complete – the Gillespie Pass (a big one on Dora's tramping bucket list). The start of this is reached by jet boat, but unfortunately the driver was hunting so we had to wait until early afternoon before hitting the track. Luckily the jet boat ride was entertaining enough to dispel our frustration with the delay, as we shot up-river with only six inches or so of water beneath us. On the way we dropped off some fencing wire and nails to a local farmer.

Approaching Siberia Flats

We ascended to Siberia flats, emerging from thick bush into yellow grassland, clear skies and butterflies flitting out of the grass around us as we walked (Dora: “It’s like Disney!”). After a quick turnaround at Siberia Hut we forged on to Crucible Lake, a 6-8 hour round trip that we compressed into 5 sweaty hours. A root staircase led us into a hanging valley, where we ascended a moraine dam to enjoy sights of the frozen lake. 

On the lip of Crucible Lake

Our dash back to the hut took us back across several knee deep streams. Luckily Dora had read how to cross such things in Wilderness and we executed perfect best practice backcountry river crossings. Unluckily we had the slowest drying boots ever, making the next day extra uncomfortable (more on that later).

Even more luckily, our English/Australian hut co-inhabitants were very nice, and very good at making fires, which meant we arrived back to a warm room and pre-heated water for some healthy sustenance (inc. marshmallows). They had been playing hut parents for a couple of days, looking after a French girl who'd arrived having crossed the Pass on her own in pouring rain (not backcountry best practice). 

Friday was Gillespie Pass Day! After again profusely thanking our fellow hut-sleepers, we ascended beech and steep tussock, which gave way to rock and (expected) snow. It was a hard climb to the summit of the pass (1629m), where we briefly admired the forebodingly named Mt. Awful and Mt Dreadful, with an eye on the weather, before descending an even steeper track through tussock into the Young Valley.  

Made it to the top! Mt Awful (left) and Dreadful (right)

The descent into Young Valley

Once we’d re-entered the bush and found Young Hut for lunch, we decided to append another 20km to our 12km mountain pass and get to Makarora the same evening. The hut was cold, the weather was forecast to worsen, and we liked the idea of proper sheets. A rooty route march ensued as we loafed down the Young River valley. We crossed creeks, sped over swing bridges, and completed the day with a fording of the Makarora River that re-soaked our feet (and our thighs). Once we’d rejoined the main road some students from Wellington picked us up, as they neared the end of their own adventurous day trip from Picton to Queenstown (872km!). 

Back at our car, we were relieved to discover a vacancy in tiny Makarora's three A-frame 'chalets' ("I really would like an en suite tonight" - Dora) which meant we didn't have to drive back to Wanaka. The evening closed with us eating warm food, having warm showers, and warmly drying our wet clothing in front of two heaters. The subsequent steam set off the fire alarm. 

‘Ouch’ characterised the next morning, especially in the feet - Dora's doing a particularly good shiny hams impression. We crawled into our car, and crawled over Mackenzie Country to the Banks Peninsula . Our Wanaka Skydive had been cancelled again – I’m increasingly convinced they never happen. However, we’d hatched a plan to see some penguins, so after a hefty hearty brunch in Tarras we made for Akaroa, where a nice pizza, an odd hostel (room like a shed, only accepted cash) and a penguin tour awaited!

Very briefly disturbing the nesting penguin

Spot the penguin

A 4x4 bus took us to Flea Bay, where over a thousand making penguin pairs reside. At dusk the male and female swap babysitting duties, providing a great opportunity for humans to excitedly gawp at them, which we did. We were even lucky enough to see the rare Yellow Eyed penguin, as it trudged up the hill to its nest wish a resignation we recognised from our time on the Gillespie Pass. Our return to Akaroa was notable for the repeated intrusion of cows on the road, much to the consternation of our guide and laughter of the two children on the tour.

On Sunday morning we enjoyed a lovely breakfast and catch up with Jack, Charlotte and Miranda at their place near Akaroa. We then lunched with Phoebe, whose Harbour Tour was torpedoed by the shocking weather. It was the annual French weekend, so a glass of Pinot with food seemed appropriate. Driving back into Christchurch, we had the pleasure of visiting an exhibition at Christchurch Art Gallery by Dora’s cousin Julia, before joining her, Andy, their son Felix and Diana and David. 

I unfortunately had to leave to catch my flight back to Wellington, but Dora stayed in Christchurch an additional day for work, staying the night with her cousin Henry and his family Tomomi, Bianca and Manon. So started the month of fond and sad goodbyes to family and friends!