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Published: November 9th 2015
Welcome Flat Hut Wardens
October 2015
One of the things that I have come to appreciate most on our travels around New Zealand is finding ourselves doing very unusual things on a Monday morning. No part of the week is more loaded with expectation of responsibility and routine and our journey so far was breaking all boundaries of what you could call a ‘typical’ week. For the first time on our trip, I wondered as we walked the mountain track to the Welcome Flat Hut to become wardens for two weeks, whether this job could possibly let us again fall into a ‘work’ routine. After all, the term warden has such a formality about it.
To explain what exactly we were up to starts with the Department of Conservation (or DOC as it is known in NZ). This is the national government agency that has the wonderful yet daunting task of preserving the natural environment of New Zealand. Despite that fact Kiwis are among some of the most environmentally conscious people I have ever met, DOC’s challenge also lies with managing and caring for natural resources with an ever diminishing portion of
the national budget. Although their primary battle is with bio security, the majesty of the New Zealand wilderness attracts residents and tourists alike to endless back country tramping trails, campsites and huts. All of these DOC must maintain and endeavour to squeeze some income from. Otherwise, their alternative resource lies with volunteers.
This is where we step in. Before leaving England, I had researched Doc’s volunteer opportunities and could see a significant machine at work in recruiting and placing volunteers in some spectacular environments and unusual roles. Having read a particularly appealing offer to become hut wardens on the West Coast, above the enticingly named Fox Glacier, I hastily filled in a form and sent it off. I was initially disappointed to find that the forthcoming season was already fully booked for volunteers, this being such a popular spot. However some weeks later I received an email explaining they had had a cancellation in October. I jumped at the chance!
So why is Welcome Flat so popular? This hut lies on a legendary track, trail blazed in the late 1800s by alpinists looking for a route up and over Mount Cook (12,218ft) and down
to the West Coast. A well-known explorer, Charles Douglas, was one of the first to survey the inhospitable dense bush and high-mountain valley, whilst the avalanche-prone pass to the famous hermitage at the base of Mount Cook was traversed first by Mattias Zubbriggen and Edward Fitzgerald in 1895. However, early 1900 surveys undertaken by the government to ascertain whether a route for tourism was viable was soon declared impossible. Despite a horse track being used up to an impressive 3000ft, the Copland track was declared only the preserve of enthusiastic and fit young climbers!
Apart from the call of the high and strikingly beautiful southern New Zealand Alps, the Copland track harbours another incredible jewel, geothermal hot pools. As weary climbers descended onto the Western slopes following a perilous journey over the freezing ridges, they would encounter thick native bush that was often impenetrable. At 1500ft, finally, they would come upon the flats of the upper reaches of the Copland river.
There a route work party in 1901 discovered billowing steam and the most glorious sited hot pools in an amphitheatre created by the Sierra and Navigator ranges. The story goes that when word
reached the coast of the discovery, a whiskey bottle was sent up to scientifically measure the temperature of all the pools. However, the researchers were thought to have commented that no instructions were offered as to what should be done to deal with the contents of the whiskey bottle! Over time it has transpired that the pools are unusual in New Zealand as they are actually created by tectonic forces causing friction to the rock beneath the surface with such intensity, the water emerging is a toasty 57 degrees!
The caveat here is that despite the luxury of the natural hot pools, in modern times helicopter access is the only way to provision the Welcome Hut every few months. All new wardens must begin and end their posting with a 17.5km tramp.
So it was with great relief and delight that Drew and I arrived after a six hour walk carrying our heavy packs (mostly containing our fresh food supply for 2 weeks, including a gargantuan cabbage that we would later be most grateful for). We knocked on the door of our wooden staff quarters and were greeted by a very hairy
American called Tyler, the outgoing warden who reminded me of John Muir. He didn’t also appear to be expecting us based on the chaos within the hut! Tyler had spent three weeks on his posting and a three day stretch without seeing anyone at all! So we forgave the ramshackle appearance of the warden and hut and bestowed him a fresh apple which he promptly squirreled away for later engorgement!
It transpired that Tyler recently graduated as a biology student from the University of Colorado and was in NZ for some work and life experience. I was particularly delighted to learn he was also fond of moths… Drew, less so (I took to collecting unfortunate dead specimens to display on our dinner table). After a night catching up on Tyler’s highs and lows on the job, fuelled with a few nips of spiced rum (fares much better than wine in a lightweight plastic bottle) we were ready to get started.
On waking our first morning, the appeal of the place was immediately apparent, birds greeted us of all shapes and sizes, squawking and whirring calls and tinkling song, less seen and heard in populated
parts of the country. Birds and trees that have dwindled elsewhere in NZ, live abundantly in the upper reaches of the Copland Valley and this is where we were to make our home for two weeks!
One of my plans for free time up in the valley was to train for a half marathon taking place not long after we would return to civilisation. However our hike up had given me some concern over whether the terrain would be too difficult to establish a viable running route. I need not have worried. As the name suggests, the river flats are a three to four kilometre route beyond the hut which leads thought the most incredible valley. It also offers creeks and tundra as well as bush tracks, a perfect obstacle course! I ran this route most days and got very friendly with a few pairs of Paradise ducks and loved hearing the wild call of the Kea, a mountain dwelling parrot.
Our tasks as wardens were relatively simple. A typical day would begin at 7.30 opening our eyes to look out the window next to our cosy double bunk at the mountain tops to
Welcome Flats
Our home for 2 weeks!see if any snow had fallen on the 10,000ft peaks. One of us then got up to make the coffee whilst the other went to check the rain gauge. At 8.45am we would radio the lovely lady at Haast Base to let her know we were still alive, how many guests had materialised from the valley below etc. Then porridge.
Now a word on porridge. Many people take the mighty oat for granted. They by pass it day in day out for more glamorous fare such as the French Croissant or American pancake. I would just like to make a case for porridge, after eating it for almost fourteen days in a row, I still happily tuck into a bowl even now. Granted a bit of ginger and apple makes a big difference but hey, next time maybe just give the humble oats a go, they fuelled many a run for me.
After breakfast, including a second coffee if rations allowed, we would go over to the main hut for cleaning duties and oust any reluctant trampers to the hot pools or back to the remote car park down below. Toilets and rooms done,
firewood collecting back up on the flood plain was a really satisfying morning task. We would look up at the golden valley with distant white peaks above and pinch ourselves, it was such a peaceful place.
Lunchtime normally involved some tasty but potent spicy cabbage creation that Drew seemed to mystically produce from leftovers and then after some track pruning or reading we would hit the hot pools about 3pm before the rush. The rush often involved only one or two European backpackers about 5pm but we were getting used to solitude!
At 4pm Mrs Haast would radio us the mountain and coast weather as we got a bit of both, then we would receive guests by checking bookings and giving the nightly briefing. Although the subject of the briefing was largely emergency procedures, I liked to spice it up a bit with talk of glow worms (we had discovered a little colony close by). That done, we would retreat to our cosy hut for a tin of Stag chilli or if it was a special occasion, a plate of Drew’s finest lentil curry.
One night we were treated to a
Spring storm. I should note that we were in fact up in the valley during avalanche season. Fortunately DOC had seen fit to move the present hut about 200m west of its original position after it was almost completely destroyed by a landslide. So being at the mercy of natural forces was just part of the deal in such a wild place. However we were in for a treat when a West Coast storm met a heavy south westerly coming from the Mount Cook region.
About 9pm the rain began to pelt our tin hut roof. By 10pm distant rumbles of thunder began to threaten from the North. By 11pm, tucked up in our bunk I started to see the sky flicker with sheet lightening, even the frogs had shut up! However, little did I realise this was just the warm up act. By 1am the storm was upon us, I could hardly hear anything above the rain….apart from Drew’s even more apocalyptic snores! Even as the most terrifying shaking occurred from thunder that seemed to envelope our whole hut and I gripped on to him for fear of the roof disappearing, Drew slept on! After that
I got up to watch the full event from the large windows in our little living room, every few seconds before a crack of lightening, the hut radio would burst into loud static crackling, making me leap out of my skin. This was an epic storm.
The next day we measured 145mm of rain in one night. Talk about a deluge. I had imagined as I lay know the dark that the roar of the river meant it had reached our door. However the next day, although it had clearly risen considerably, the hut was safe from the flooded river. The track on the other hand was not. The morning radio call revealed that the track to us would be shut for the next three days. We were stranded! Fortunately we had been warned of the possibility and we were quite excited about this development. Later that day, after checking that all was secure in the main hut, we settled in for our days of isolation with a few more nips of the rum.
After the stormy night as I headed out on my daily run, I nearly tripped over some discarded hiking boots
that had not been there the day before. Intrigued, I entered the big hut to find two rather jolly Kiwi fellas enjoying their breakfast. They informed me that they had decided to disregard the track closure and headed up with a pair of umbrellas to keep off the worst of the rain as they forged the flooded creeks!! These city boys from Auckland were delighted that they had decided to bring broillies with them. Simon and Ross become good pals of ours and we were thrilled by their intrepid spirit and with their invitation to join them for a wine tour when we returned to the big smoke. Being a warden does have its perks.
All too soon our warden jobs in the mountains were drawing to an end. So what about that Monday feeling? Well let’s just say that when you wake up in a place like the Copland Valley on a still, crisp, sunny morning with no guests in residence, the only natural course of action is to head to the steaming hot pools. A fresh layer of snow had dusted the peaks the previous night and as I took in the scene it struck
me that the obvious thing to do was to fling pyjamas aside and submerge myself in the landscape, ‘au natural’. As I lay watching an early morning avalanche, languishing in the steaming water without a stitch on, it occurred to me I might never have a similar Monday morning quite like it again.
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Mammy Soave
non-member comment
Not so easy Monday morning!!!
Well you two - what an amazing adventure you are having - Sam love reading your blogs - feel as if I am there with you both - the views are absolutely stunning - like you said yesterday it would take alot to be stressed in NZ and can see why!!! Keep on having fun - love you both xxxx