Immeasurable…The Old Ghost Road ~ Day 4, Jan 26
Day Four: To Specimen Hut
Stern Creek ~ Home to the native Whio, Blue Duck
Over night the rain set in as expected and drizzled on through the morning. Even though we rose early, we were still the last to leave, lingering along the creek, walking through the meadow, still trying to capture the essence of this place that felt so immense, so immeasurable. Astride our bikes with 25 kilometers ahead of us, we hoped these were the last few drops of rain, at least til we arrived at Specimen Hut for our final night on the trail.
As we wove our way through mounds of thigh high grasses and marsh ponds, the sun burst its way through the clouds prompting us to strip off our rain gear and pant legs. Our last major climb was on the other side of Earnest Valley, ominously named - the Boneyard. We kept scanning the granite slopes, searching for any indication of the trail ahead, but the mountain refused to give us any hints until we were at its base.
Stern Creek Catchment ~ Earnest Valley, home to Lakes Cheerful and Grim
Once again our anticipation and angst, was met with awe and admiration. Instead of a punishing climb through granite scree, “The Boneyard” was a scenic tour, showcasing the immense power of nature to rip asunder a mountainside turning massive rocks into thundering projectiles hurled into the valley, forever altering the landscape. Weaving our way through the house-sized boulders, we said goodbye to the valley below, excited to reach Solemn Saddle, marking the start of our descent into the infamous South Branch of the Mohikinui River.
As we passed through yet another portal returning us to the deep bush, I wondered whether we would come across the point where the trail crews working from the Mohikinui side met the crew from Stern Creek, marking the end of the trail construction, and the birth of The Old Ghost Road. And indeed, at a most unassuming point on the trail, as we turned the corner - there it was - the monument that marked eight years of immeasurable dedication, grit and perseverance.
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Even the completion of the trail through this last section was not a given. The trail building was so tough between Solemn Saddle and Stern Ridge (think corduroy and granite) that funds were dwindling by the day, threatening to shut down the project just a few kilometers away from success. In the final months, a decision to launch a crowd-funding campaign brought supporters together, to forever be part of saving the dream and launching it into reality. Reading Marion’s account of the wild, mix of emotions as he and the band that stood by him to the end, witnessed the 1.7 tonne excavators meet, “Two diggers kiss! The union is complete” Tears, cheers and a champagne-ending to a fairytale story, well-suited to the most fairy-like landscape in all the world.
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A robin joined us for our celebratory photos at the monument, just as Im sure they joined the crew on that very momentous day. Ahead of us lay sections of the tedious corduroy track, leading us through a maze of moss-covered trees that strangely felt like home in the Olympic rain forest.
In a few more meters, we arrived at Solemn Saddle. If not for the sign and the curious placement of a cassette and rear derailleur amongst the tangled vines, we could have easily missed it. Around another corner, we met up with what may well have been one of the two infamous “diggers” - patiently awaiting its next mission to keep the track as pristine as always over the last ten years.
As we reached the other side of the saddle, free of the bush, the track wound down the hillside giving us sweeping views of the valley ahead and an early indication that our rain-free morning was about to come to an abrupt end. Just as we finished our trail-side lunch with a view to celebrate 50km on trail, the first warning shots of rain fell to the ground. We picked up our pace, enjoying the last bit of flowy track, hoping to reach the cover of the bush further down the valley before the clouds picked up steam and threatened to soak us to the bone.
Since reading the “Spirit to the Stone” the night before, the story seemed to pulsate from the trail and I couldn’t imagine why reading the book wasn’t a prerequisite. As soon as we came upon the turn off to Goat Creek Hut, I couldn’t resist taking the side-trip, now that I knew it was part of the reconnaissance mission to first assess whether the old mining roads still existed and if a connection was ever made between them as shown in the 1886 survey.
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In 2007, when Marion and his friend, the bushman, reached the end of the dray road at Lyell Saddle, they literally bushwhacked their way down into this valley following the many tributaries of the Mohikinui South Branch. After three days, they reached the Goat Lake Hut, built in 1957, where the bushman showed Marion his name on the wall dating back to 1978. By the time they arrived back at the Rough and Tumble Lodge, “they knew half the road had never been built”as was shown on the survey, and more importantly “they knew they were on to something very big indeed”.
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By the time we reached the Mohikinui Forks, where the North and the South branches meet to flow on to the Tasman Sea, we were as wet, as if we had floated down river ourselves. We stopped only briefly at the Mohikinui Forks hut, the last stop over on the first reconnaissance mission, feeling increasingly ready to reach the end of our 25km day and attempt to dry ourselves out at the last hut, Specimen Point. Even the young Weka families we met along the last bit of water-soaked trail looked like they would enjoy a good rub off with a towel and a dry place out of the rain.
When we arrived the main hut was already buzzing with rain-soaked trampers and cyclists alike. The drying rack over the kitchen area and the vestibule were strewn with an array of soggy kit. After gaping at yet another the incredible view out the picture windows of the main hut, we brewed up some tea and visited with the others until we were certain one of the Sleep-outs was vacant to spend another night out of the wet. Even without any advance planning, our time on The Old Ghost Road was turning out to be so much more than we ever expected.
