As we made the 2.5-hour drive from Dannevirke to Comet Road end in the Ruahine Range, there was a mix of excitement and anticipation. We were about to embark on the biggest adventure we’d been on to date. Months of planning and training were about to be put to the test.

Day 1

We reached the car park about midday to find conditions that couldn’t have been better – a sunny yet cool autumn day, not a breath of wind. Forecasts showed we were in for at least four days of this weather, and we wanted to make the most of it.

Final checks of our packs were made, the rifle was strapped on and the three of us – Dallas, Sim, Baz the dog and I – started our journey. It didn’t take long for the gravy to start dripping; there wasn’t much of a warm-up before a 200m climb up to Komata Point.

Walking through wild pines, chatting loudly, we had our first animal encounter of the trip – a pig, seemingly out of nowhere, leapt out no more than 10m farther up the track. Too quick for us this time. We made the descent to the Taruarau River, which was running high and fast – a great start to the trip.

A strategic hour and a half later, we found ourselves on the other side, soaked but unscathed. After another hour and a slight ascent, we found ourselves at our accommodation for the night: an old stone-walled historic structure by the name of Shutes Hut. After lighting the fire, cooking a feed and cracking open some port (to make sure we weren’t too quick the next day) we jumped into our sleeping bags and faded off to sleep.

Day 2

We woke to light coming through the door, which we’d left open to stop the open-style fireplace engulfing the hut in smoke while we slept. We packed our things, tidied up and tackled our first bigger climb of the trip – a 600m vertical 5.6km walk to Taruarau Biv.

It was a scenic walk up the hill to a perfect sunrise and the sound of heavy breathing. When we spotted a young stag as we reached the summit, we decided to let him live – the packs were heavy enough, and we had plenty of food. We had a nutritional lunch at Taruarau Biv of Mi goreng noodles and carried on our way spotting multiple handy deer who didn’t know how lucky they were.

Reaching No Mans Hut at about 4:30pm, we were greeted with claggy conditions. At this point, I realised my camera had been recording my feet walking for over an hour, losing a lot of memory and crucial battery life. I only had two 10,000mAh power banks, which were needed to charge my phone, other cameras, headlight and drone for the rest of the trip. I decided that’d be tomorrow’s problem; it was time for a feed and to hold down the bunk bed. We were buggered.

Day 3

Deciding we were walking past too many deer, we made the collective decision that one was not going to be as lucky today. After consuming our daily caffeine, we hit the track. There was a slight breeze but nothing to worry about.

We walked the track to Tauwharepokoru trig, where we spotted our protein source for the next few days: a juicy looking stag, freshly fed up after the Roar. A carefully placed shot from Sim from 300yds saw him hit the deck instantly. “Sacked him!”

Back wheels, back steaks and some cuts for Baz were butchered out and loaded into our packs – including Baz’s pack. We made the steady 750m descent over 6km, and after bumping a mob of more than six deer – which, like the pig on Day 1, were too quick for us – we were greeted at the Ikawetea Stream by a pair of blue ducks (whio) whistling their way downstream.

Five minutes later, we were at Ikawetea Forks Hut. It was only about 1pm, but we decided to have an easy day and spent the rest of it recharging the body batteries and lightening the load of our packs by getting through some of our food. Now, with fresh venison, we could ration a bit more freely; the lollies and chocolate were calling my name.

Day 4

Waking up bright, early and recharged, we were practically running out the hut door, headed for Ruahine Corner Hut. There was no official track on the Topo app to get there, but after seeing markers leading up the back of the hut, we decided it must be the right way. Surely, right? We climbed a steep 150m vertical to reach the ridge top.

After walking for almost an hour, we passed a trapline that headed back down to the right towards the river; the ridge veered left. Something didn’t seem right. I checked the map for the first time that day, which confirmed my fear: we were on the wrong ridge. As I was leading the pack that day, I couldn’t pass the blame onto the others (I still tried), and they let me have it.

We descended the trapline back to the river and picked a nice-looking spur to climb, which would get us back on track. I was checking the Topo map regularly from then.

Climbing the spur making good progress, Dallas came racing past me. “Where’s this energy come from?” I thought. After he threw a few choice words in my direction, I realised I’d stood on a wasps’ nest, and they’d spotted him first. I chuckled to myself (after I knew he was alright of course). I’d copped a verbal beating for picking the wrong ridge, but the wasps made sure Dallas had taken one too.

Lucky Yearling

We arrived at Ruahine Corner at about lunchtime and were near shivering as the fog and slight drizzle rolled in. Prior to the trip, we’d had food dropped in via plane to this hut and were happy to see no one had touched it. We ate a quick lunch there, put our wet-weather gear on and carried on our way to the next destination, Colenso Hut.

We traversed Potae high point (1312m) and found an unreal rock formation with all sorts of fossilised sea shells set in them, which made for good viewing. We carried on and descended to the Mangatera River and some great grassy flats.

No more than 10 minutes after realising the hunting potential of these flats, a young yearling hind showed itself in front of us. We slowly dropped packs and unstrapped the rifle, digging out the bolt and ammunition. It was Dallas’ turn behind the rifle; fatigued from the walk, he knelt and lined up the shot at the broadside-standing yearling. Bang!

Cameras rolling, I thought I’d captured the perfect shot for the video, but the animal still stood there looking at us. A quick reload and Dallas sent another pill its way. The yearling, seemingly unbothered, giggled and trotted off into the bush. A search over where it was standing confirmed two clean misses. The rifle must’ve taken a knock – or so we claimed anyway. We arrived at Colenso Hut just before dark – an exhausting 22km day.

Day 5

Our fifth day was one of the many highlights of the trip. We left the hut as soon as it became light enough to see without a head torch and started the walk towards the ‘Unknown Campsite’ as the DOC sign read.

Before going too far, we made the much-anticipated visit to Lake Colenso. What a beauty it was – flat like glass, abundant in wildlife; definitely a place to revisit. We all took photos, and I chucked the drone up to grab a few shots before we were back on our way.

It was a cruisy next three hours as we made our way to the Unknown Campsite where we ate some lunch. We made the most of the break, stalling as much as we could before we tackled the 650m ascent to Puketaramea high point. Expecting to see a deer up this ridge, we kept the rifle handy, but they didn’t show – probably due to the lack of stealth in our uphill effort.

After what felt like forever climbing the long-overgrown track, we finally made it to the top where the view made it well worth the grind. We could see clear views right up the guts of the hills towards Te Atuaoparapara high point before Waikamaka Hut, where we planned to be in a couple of days’ time. Eager to get to Maropea Forks Hut, which was now only an hour downhill away, we strapped the rifle back on the pack and started making the descent.

Typically, we then saw two deer on a clearing three quarters of the way down the track, but they were gone quicker than Dallas bolting from the wasps the day before. There seemed to be plenty of sign around this side of the ridge and the river, so we decided that the next day we’d keep the rifle in hand for the whole walk.

We reached the hut, which had been fully rebuilt in 2014 and was a very comfortable stay for the night. A decent wood-burner meant we could give our clothes a wash in the nearby river and get them fully dry by the next day.

Day 6

We woke to breezy conditions; even by the sheltered river, it was blowing a bit, so we knew it was going to be windy up on the Armstrong Saddle later in the day. Boom stick in hand, I led the charge up the river, slowly passing round every corner hoping to bag some fresh venison, but we didn’t see any the whole day.

The higher we climbed up the river, the windier it got, and by the time we reached Top Maropea Hut, we could hear the wind howling over the ridgetop. We stopped for a feed at the hut while we tried to summon some courage to attack the saddle. The rifle was put back on the pack and tramping poles came out; I had the feeling I’d need them to stay upright.

We climbed onto the top of the ridge, and as soon as we came around the corner to the saddle, we were punched in the face by breathtaking winds. The saddle crossing was about 200m, and it was every man (and dog) for themselves. Our packs were acting like wind sails, and every time we turned against the wind, we’d be thrown into the nearby leatherwood. Ten minutes felt like an hour, but we finally made it to the Sunrise Hut, which was more like a five-star backcountry hotel – 20 bunks, stunning views and running water with a sink inside the hut. Seeing this, I was half expecting a flushing toilet as well, but no such luck.

Change of Plans

Unfortunately, while crossing the saddle, Sim had fallen, badly twisting his knee, and had to make the tough decision to make this his last night of the journey. Luckily, the walk out from here was a well-pathed, two- to three-hour slow descent to the car park.

Dallas and I were also forced to make a change of plans. The forecast showed winds like this for the next four days, and there was no way we were going to be able to continue the traverse along the tussock tops. We hatched a new plan, which would see us descend the track and take the low route for the rest of the trip. We were a bit gutted about this as it’d mean we wouldn’t get to cross the infamous Sawtooth Ridge, but at least we could still get the trip finished; we decided to re-evaluate after a few days in low country whether we could return to the tops.

Day 7

Awaking to a foggy yet impressive sunrise, we packed up and started the walk down the track with Sim; we turned off about halfway down, while he continued on to the car park with Baz. Sim had offered to take a few unnecessary bits of kit out with him whilst giving us his share of food for the rest of our trip. We decided to give him the rifle to take out as well since the weather wasn’t going to be optimal for hunting anyway. At the junction, we said our farewells as we went our separate ways. I was quite envious of him, as the thought of a hot shower and a feed of fast food – or anything but stew – was very tempting, but we still had work to do.

Now with super-light packs, we felt like we were flying down the track, and morale started to lift again. We made Smith Stream Hut in what felt like record time, stopped for a quick feed, then made the signposted 2.5-hour walk to Hinerua Hut in just 47 minutes. It was 3pm by then and we were tempted to keep going but decided 17.5km was enough for the day (little did we know how far we’d walk the next day!)

With faint cell phone service at the hut, we gave Sim a call to make sure he’d made it out alright, which he had. Still dreaming of the thought of a feed of greasy takeaway food, we made a call to another mate, Luke, and he agreed to meet us at either Awatere or Longview Hut the next night. He then gave us what was one of the toughest decisions of the whole trip … what food did we want him to bring? After an important debate, we came to the decision of fish and chips. I was dreaming of them that night as we went to sleep.

Day 8

We left the hut as soon as it was light enough; the thought of dinner that night almost had us running. We descended to the Tukituki River where we stopped for breakfast and a drink and then carried on upriver, spotting numerous trout along the way. We then made a 500m climb up the Daphne Hut track towards Longview Hut; however, winds again increased the higher we climbed – Longview Hut was out of the equation.

Making good time so far, we confidently rang Luke whilst in service and told him we’d walk past Awatere Hut and meet him at Happy Daze instead, as we were motoring through the day. Since we couldn’t climb onto the main range because of wind, we’d end up walking a river route out to end our trip the next day.

Two-and-a-half hours later, we found ourselves at Awatere Hut and were regretting our decision to tell Luke we’d carry on. With 21km already under the belt that day, we were absolutely buggered; I could tell I was going to have nightmares about this walk for days to come. We decided to take a quick break at the unoccupied hut, and upon walking in, discovered a bag of Bluebird salt and vinegar chips left by the previous party. I couldn’t believe our luck. We chowed them down as though we hadn’t eaten before and gained enough energy to push on 6km downriver to Happy Daze Hut. I have vivid memories of this last push – looking at the ground thinking, “Just one foot in front of the other.”

We made it to Happy Daze Hut an hour and 15 mins later, and no more than five minutes after that, Luke turned up, shaking our hands and saying, “You boys hungry?” The feast was laid upon the table with a few Double Browns to wash it down. It felt like the best meal I’d ever had and an appropriate way to spend the last night of our adventure.

Day 9

With rain on the horizon, we made the last 5km push out to the car park to wrap the trip up. As the wheels turned and the hill disappeared behind us, a sense of pride and relief hit. We’d travelled 128km with packs on back and climbed 7781m. It’d been a hell of a trip, which will be remembered for years to come, and one we might just be mad enough to do again.

To find more hunting and outdoor adventures, check out my YouTube channel: Kritta Stuart Outdoors.