Addicted: Solo into Siberia: Disaster on Day 1

After getting back to Wanaka, Aliyah decided to stay while I went off on a more difficult circuit within Aspiring National Park to explore some more back country fishing. I set off the next morning for the Young Valley via Makarora. The rivers which had been unfordable two days prior had now settled to more normal levels and the track had been cleared by DOC crews the night before so the going was easier than expected.

I quickly encountered trout at the first flat and set up my rod over lunch. I stalked up to the first pool, spotted a fair sized brown darting in and out of the current after drifting nymphs, and tentatively made my first cast. On the second false cast as I fed out line I heard a slight crack and witnessed the most revolting sight... my flyrod snapped in two. I couldn't believe my eyes but there it was, two splintered pieces of what used to be a whole rod. I did what I could to maintain composure, think creatively and salvage what I had left and with a little duct tape, some whittled sticks, and a ball point pen I was back in business. Well, sort of. The rod still hindged a bit when casted but I managed to hook the first fish I saw and fight it to shore without the whole rig crumbling again so I kept at it catching fish throughout the day. The largest fish was a 5 pound brown, but even the 10" rainbows felt huge with my wet noodle-rod.The day ended half way up the valley with a beautiful sunset and enough sandflies to make a grown man cry. I crawled inside the tent and dined on a well earned meal.

The next day I had a short day to Young hut and made afternoon tea and contemplated heading up to the next valley below Gillespie pass. As I downed my first cup of tea soft rain began to beat the tin roof. The friendly Isreali couple I'd been chatting with kept urging me to stick around and as the rain began to fall harder I tended to agree, so I made another cup of tea and settle into finishing a half done puzzle.

The next morning started early to clearing skies and sunshine. I walked up to the valley below the pass with the Israelis then charged the climb. The clouds were burning off the higher I got and then new ones were being born. I met two other North Americans at the saddle, one Canadian and one Washintonian. We snacked and eagerly waited for Mount Awful to come out of the clouds.

As we decended, Awful popped out in glorious fasion for all to behold. The steep hike down was filled with vistas of the Siberian valley below and Mount Dreadful. Siberia stream had the most amazing clear blue water I've yet seen which made for impossible fishing and amazing swimming. I made my way to Siberia hut and bathed in the waterfall behind the hut. What a paradise.

The next day I day hiked down to the Wilken valley to explore the fishing, but silted waters made things difficult. The old streamer brought one medium rainbow to shore which was promtly killed for dinner. I shared fish with everyone in the hut and got a glass of wine in return!

The next morning I was lucky enough to catch a return flight out of the valley! A truely unique tourist opporation flies hikers into the valley where the hike to the Wilken River and jet boat out. Lucky trampers like me can catch a flight out for a fraction of the price ($50!). The little bush plane was my first and what a blast. Aliyah happened to have just arrived in Makarora and watched my flight come in. A perfect end to a great trip.

Looking up the North Branch of the Young at camp.

Out the Young valley.

Morning views from the Young Hut veranda.

Looking up to the headwaters of the Young, Gillespie pass is up the left. I'd soon be climbing the nearest ridge.

Those thin vertical streaks are wispy waterfalls that nearly hit the valley floor without striking the mountains.

A fair sized slip. The track continues on the opposite side where an orange snow pole marks the way. A recent slip on the Rees-Dart track created and kilometer long track obstruction looking like this.

The Israelis I shared the valley with.

Heading up the climb to Gillespie

Leaving the valley below

Mount Awful hiding in the clouds.

That valley is getting farther away...

Clouds come and go. As long as you can see the trail markers your good as gold (typical kiwi phrase).

Finally at the pass and getting the first glimpses of the Siberian Valley on the other side.

North Americans waiting hopefully for Mount Awful to appear.

One last glance at the headwaters of the Young.

A staged shot; the Canadian pulled out her map and compass as if route finding, I just need to crop out the track pole behind her. Mount Alba stand proudly in the middle.