Greenstone - Caples Circuit 

22-25 May 2025

Led by Raymond, this trip was well-planned. It was not quite a Snow White and the Seven Dwarves trip as there were only six guys. Most of us managed to book our bunks for the 3 huts on the not-so-user-friendly DoC website, but it was worth persevering if it meant getting the bunks for free with our Backcountry Hut Passes. Raymond was concerned about the rain forecast, swellinging the many fords on the drive down Greenstone Station Road to the road-end, but fortunately the outlook improved, showing only 11 - 13 mm of rain over 6-hours on the day we were to be walking out.

Raymond suggested shortening the four days to three and no one dissented.  For me it was a choice of a long first day, versus walking out on the 4th day in the rain, with both options having their pros and cons. Raymond, Keith and Pete each took a meal along but Pete didn't get to prepare his. The standard of their cuisine looked impressive to those of us who were eating Back Country Cuisine. Aarn gets a good discount on Real Meals, so he took some lovely examples of their premium choices such as beetroot and carrot salad!

As we'd booked the huts, we didn't need to take tents, though I carried a 300g DCF tarp and inflatable mattress in case of an injury in the party between huts. Raymond and Frank both had PLBs in case the party needed to split for any reason. We were generously catered for with four stoves and many billies—a bit like a CTC trip.

We drove down on the Thursday for Glenorchy, stopping at Fairlie on the way for pies and coffee. Raymond had booked us into Glenorchy Hotel, where we all opted to dine in—just as well, as we stayed in the very cozy main hotel building at cabin prices, but there were no cooking facilities. I ate my breakfast of baked beans cold but that was OK. The shower was very good and milk was generously supplied.

I could see Raymond's concern about the fords as we drove in, as his car didn't have a high clearance. We would have taken our Isuzu Bighorn but the warrant had expired, so we were lying low. Pete supplied his little Daihatsu, so John could relax and enjoy the ride. As arranged, we met Aarn at the road-end car park, where he'd slept the night in his vehicle.

Raymond was sticking to the 3-day plan, so we bustled off and crossed the Caples River on the first of many swanky 5-person bridges. Pete, Frank and I diverted to visit Slip Flat Hut. Back in the day, the track went directly to this hut, and local hunters there told us there was still a big shelter for private groups, where the direct track had turned off. They also reassured us that the projected rain wouldn't bring the fords up to where it would be a concern for ordinary vehicles.

We left the shaded track and took a side-trip, crossing over an attractive narrow gorge to the Greenstone Hut for lunch and a cuppa. The hut was in a very big, sunny clearing, so most of us sat on the porch for lunch—too hot for me, but then a cloud slid over the sun when it was time to go. The hunters turned up as a previous party had frightened all the deer down-valley. The area has mainly fallow deer, though there are reds and chamois too.

It was nice to turn the corner and get into the wide-open valley flats. We diverted a few metres to check out the private hut at Steele Ck. I noticed it did not have fireproof mattresses. The NZDA Mid Greenstone Hut was also visible. Back in the day the track went directly there too. Pete diverted to check out two huts across the river—one quite modern but the other probably lived up to its name, Rats Nest. The rest of us opted to keep our boots dry.

We carried on to McKellar Hut, knowing we wouldn't get there until dark, and hopefully someone would be ensconced with a fire going on this evening, which was cooling down. The track deteriorated a bit in some places, necessitating either a boulder-hop through shallow muddy patches or a very short section of scrubby travel. Eventually we turned on our headlights and entered the forest, where the party spread out as some were affected by night travel more than others, and it had been a long day. At 6.37pm we arrived to a cold, dark hut with one occupant who'd stoically cooked his tea, and then went to bed on our arrival.

Not for us though! Keith prepared a sumptuous 3-person meal with loads of vegetables in it.  I got the woodstove cranking. Coal is supplied, though Frank made talk of putting it back where it belonged—in the ground. Raymond checked in with us for what time we'd like to get up in the morning and with our late arrival we opted for 7.30am, to leave at 9am. Our silent hut-mate had breakfasted, packed up outside and left earlier.

The highlights of the next day were walking past a misty Lake McKellar, then enjoying a sunny, scenic stop at McKellar Saddle with a view of the snow-clad Darrans. We crossed the saddle and entered the forest until we found a sunny spot for lunch and another cuppa. Aarn tried on Keith's external frame Kelty pack and said it sat quite well, though I don't think he's become a convert. We saw the Upper Caples Hut on a flat by the river and as I'd stayed there, when it was a DoC Hut, in around 1987, after crossing from Steele Ck. It wasn't worth another visit. From there on, it was a red line for me.

From up-valley John could spot the roof of the Mid Caples Hut and then we noticed smoke from a freshly lit fire. A Quebecois couple was there and they were unfamiliar with the woodstove operation, so I took over. Fuelled by coal, the hut eventually was lovely and warm. It was Raymond's turn as chef. His offering was a rehydrated pilaf of fine spinach and mushrooms. A couple of young guys came back from fishing brown trout. During their visit they'd caught four, but must have released them as there was no fishy evidence in the hut. The Quebecois were also keen fishers, so there was plenty for them all to talk about.

The final day was a short one and only took 2½ hours. We were back in cattle country. This land was given to Ngai Tahu as part of their settlement with the Crown, and they have generously gifted back the mountain tops (Ka Whenua Roimata—The Lands of Tears). They leased some to DoC in perpetuity for us to enjoy for tramping, fishing and hunting.

Immediately after leaving the hut, we crossed a similar narrow gorge via a similar bridge to the true left of the Caples River. A very derelict hut was spotted below the Old Birchdale Homestead, marked by poplars. The lofty towering ranges of the area are generally impressive. The trail itself, less so.

We got to the car park just as there was a wispy sun-shower but it soon stopped. Aarn joined us for cuppas at a cafe in Glenorchy in a setting reminiscent of Raffles with the bamboo furniture. As there was no gluten-free option, I ate a homemade sandwich discreetly. Frank's coffee was plonked in front of Aarn who sampled it. Though Frank was still happy to drink it, the management replaced his coffee. Raymond, once again, drove all the way home as I “chewed his ear” to make sure he stayed alert. Keith, the back-up driver, snoozed briefly. We stopped at Cromwell for eats with Frank and I having a nutritious, restorative brownie (not). Luckily, we had our lunch to nibble on, instead of a pie on the way home.

The route to SH1 via Tiplady Road and Orari on good roads is way-shorter than going via Geraldine. Raymond dropped Frank and me at home but Keith's car was still with the mechanic, so Pete had to drop Keith off at Cass Bay. Thanks go to Raymond for this well-organized trip and to the guys for your good company.

We were: Raymond Ford, Peter Umbers, Aarn Tate, John Robinson,
Keith Hoard, Frank King and Honora Renwick.   HR