Thread: On the hoof in the Northern Ruas

I had an “old school” trip planned with a mate through a solid chunk of Northern Ruahine country for a week but when an urgent work matter came up I had no choice but to can a couple of days of the leave. KK was fine with it and it was settled that I’d follow along behind him, take a detour through some other areas I’d not visited and meet him at a hut for the last night and our walk out.

This negated the need for me to carry a .303 and a frame pack, which I was ambivalent about regardless, so I took the trusty 7mm08 popgun and my dog Finn and headed off a couple of days behind him.

The slog up Sentry Box was hot, and I had remembered correctly that it wasn’t a lot of fun, having last been there five years prior. However, when I got to the top I hooked around towards Aranga arriving in a shade under 4.5 hrs with new country in my sights. Aranga itself was in reasonable shape and the weather turned wet and cold for the last hr or so of the day so after a lazy walk hugging the southern bush edge I headed for the sleeping bag.



It rained all night and didn’t stop but I had to get to Kylie Bivvy in the hope of fine weather the following day. I set off early, with minimal visibility in the rain and howling wind. I spied a silly deer cross in front of me at close range about halfway to Piopio peak and while I wasn’t sure why it was there, it was in a real hurry and I couldn’t blame it for the rush to get into shelter.

I was wet through by then and by the time I crested the main range I wasn’t in a good place, stumbling and shivering like mad. The broad flat ridge I was crossing was confusing me and even the compass seemed wrong. I had some idea what was happening to me and I let the dog lead me as far as he dared before finally making it to Kylie Biv.




I could barely get my boots off but shucked off my wet gear and spent the rest of the day in my sleeping bag drinking copious amounts of milo and soup to try shake the cold out of my body. It had been a close call and I thanked the smart people of the past for placing the biv in such a good spot before finally being warm enough to go to sleep.

The sun began to rise and I could see the stars disappearing so I knew a good morning was coming.

I packed myself up and headed south along the range, glassing around as I went. It was a good feeling being up there, with lots of sun and magnificent ridges and slips wherever I looked. I did see four deer but they were all on the lower slopes of Rangiwhakamataku and not very handy for a shot. One of them was a decent stag but at 900 plus yards through leatherwood he was as safe as he would ever be. So I just enjoyed things for what they were. It was beautiful up there.






After nothing else showed itself I decided to head down the main spur for the valley bottom and see what the dogs nose picked up.
I stopped for lunch at 12 on the dot on the main track and the dog kept casting about for scent. He really wanted to take me down off the track and I packed a pikau and obliged, thinking I’d give him the benefit of the doubt and if he didn’t find me a deer close ish that I would carry on.

Finn took me a few minutes down and across a chewed out face. It was looking good as I spied a slip in the direction he so desperately wanted to head in. I was dumbfounded to see two deer on it at lunchtime and after mucking around a bit trying to find a clear vantage I finally got a range on them. 270 yards.

I set myself up and found they were a young stag and a spiker. The spiker kept wanting to move off the slip, looking at the stag for guidance but the stag was in no hurry and presenting a better shot. I held on his shoulder and the pleasing thump of a hit echoed back to us as the stag pitched down the slope.

I let Finn carry on his work and he eventually led me down the face to where the young 4 pointer lay piled up. Awesome!



I took every scrap of meat I could and headed back to the pack and 2 hrs later i was at Upper Makaroro with a deer in the meatsafe and time on my side for an evening walk.

Someone once told me “Don’t stop when you’ve got one” so I headed off upstream hoping for an extension of my luck. The dog was winding in patches and at the only slip worth mentioning I arrived a touch early. As I rounded a corner to see more of the slip, a stag stepped out into the riverbed ten metres away. I was treated to the sight of a good animal vanishing back where he came from followed by his gruff bark from up the ridge. I knew my luck had run out so back to Upper Mak I went, happy with my day.

KK was due to meet me in the afternoon so I spent the morning relaxing before he popped in the door just after lunch. He’d shot two down in the Ikawetea and had covered most of the parks interior on his wander so there was no pressure now to try for a fourth deer between us so instead we smashed a backsteak with shaved parmesan on top before a lazy walk in the river.





A couple of trampers turned up at the hut who I’d done some whio trapping with in the past. It was good to see them so all had gone well and a pleasant evening was spent in good company before the last grind back to Sentry Box with heavy packs. Their parting comment to us was about how good it was to spend time with us and how good it is to see people getting out on foot and enjoying the Ruahines.
Get in there, and hot barrels.