“On a Mish” #281 Back in the Cameron (Part One). Cameron Valley. Hakatere Conservation Area. 13.9.2015. The good parts of Aotearoa get multiple visits, and there are quite a few good parts! It is funny to think that a place that taught me a lesson about the risks of tackling a winter storm head on has brought me back over and over again for more. Since my wild wander back in 2013 I have averaged nearly a trip per winter into the Cameron Valley. When my wheels pull up to the very unassuming gate at the entrance of the magnificent valley I always have one thought, it’s good to be back in the Cameron!
I am very cautious of the weather now after I have had more than enough battles with the elements. The odd ‘interesting situation’ has set me up to be a better and much more careful explorer. If the weather looks rough I might have second thoughts about heading out. For some reason the Cameron Valley has put my winter survival skills to the test on more than one occasion.
Having only a small weather window meant I only had one night and maybe half a day to package together an epic mish minus the wild weather part of the tale. I was looking for peace and quiet, not terror and turmoil. It was time to go back and the plan was to climb an unnamed peak with what I hoped would be a good view as reward. My excitement grew as I drove across the Canterbury Plains inbound for the small car park at the entrance to Cameron Valley. Here I did my final checks of the camp / climb kit, then it’s all thrown onto my back and like a mini mobile home I’m off.
The first section is over the flats of the rarely used flood braids of the Cameron River. The amount of debris in these braids is enough to show you that the Cameron River can grow in size considerably sometimes. The flats are also a good length to warm the legs up before the real hiking begins.
From here it’s time to dive head first into one of New Zealand’s most brutal bushes. No matter how often it is cut back the matagouri always seems to hang down over the track in one particular place. I can only push so much of the prickly bastard plant out of the way with my hiking poles, so it is inevitable that I will be walking out of the Cameron Valley sporting a few good scraps and scratches.
The day had started out sunny, then high cloud cooled the September air. Although I missed the sun’s warm touch, the cloud cover was high enough that the mountains were on display. As if a carrot on a stick, the snow-covered giants of the Arrowsmith Range act like a beacon, bringing you closer to their snow and ice with their charming beauty.
The valley is a series of plateaus or steps, each step having a short climb onto the next. It is almost like you are playing a game and each plateau acts as a new level to play. The views increase in awesomeness as the mountains get bigger the further you travel up the valley. This is what I call a perfect display of mountain motivation!
I made my way up to a point I had camped the year before. Like on that mish I faced the same watery foe before the perfect spot could be reached. I took the plunge into water so cold you wonder why it doesn’t freeze in place. I wasn’t exactly excited about this part of the adventure so to get it over with quickly I splashed my way through the frigid water.
No need to set the spot up for my tent or gather rocks for a campfire as I was now back in familiar territory and it was like I knew I was going to return to the location the year before.
I got my camp set up in a flash, and as I didn’t want the same frozen problem again, I got the fire going immediately and began to dry my soaking boots. I had arrived and it was bloody good to be back in the Cameron…
As if a carrot on a stick, the snow covered giants of the Arrowsmith Range act like a beacon drawing you closer to their snow and ice covered beauty. The valley is a series of plateaus, each having a short climb onto the next. The views increase, and the mountains get bigger the further you travel up the valley, and this is what I call a perfect display of mountain motivation. I made my way up the valley to a point I had camped the year before, only issue was the campsite was on the other side of the glacial feed Cameron River. I took the plunge into the water so cold you wonder why it doesn’t freeze, and very quickly crossed over to the campsite. No need to find a spot for my tent or rocks for a campfire as I was in familiar territory. I got camp set up in a flash. And as I didn’t want the same problem from the year before, having frozen boots the next morning, so I got the fire going immediately to dry them out. I spent the rest of the time hanging out looking at the Arrowsmith Range, and dreaming of clambering up each ridge visible from my camp…
