Perfect reflections in the southern end of tranquil Lake Alabaster
One of the stories the Tararuas told was of the Pyke Loop. The Hollyford is a one-way track, but there is a continuation of the track up the coast and back down the Pyke river, coming out at the Alabaster Hut again; if you imagine the whole loop as a Y-shape, then the Hollyford Track goes from the bottom of the Y to the top of the left fork, and the Pyke Loop crosses the top of the Y and back down to the stem. Although this loop track sounds ideal, making the only repeated section of the walk the last day from Alabaster to the road end, it's not really a sensible option; it's classed as a route rather than a track, which means it's hardly marked, it's not maintained, and if it rains you're in serious trouble, with flooding rivers, big swamps and only two huts on the entire 60km stretch. When I'd first looked at the walk details for the Hollyford I'd briefly entertained the idea of doing the Pyke Loop, only to read that the walk was only suitable for experienced, well-equipped parties, so I'd stuck to the Hollyford. Half of the Tararua group had just returned from the Pyke Loop, and with mud up to your waist, fast-flowing rivers and seriously thick scrub lacerating your legs, it sounded like the Hollyford was the better bet. Still, the Pyke would have been interesting to see if I'd been with a group.
Wild scenery along the Hollyford River, just south of Lake McKerrow
The second day took me through forest bog and along the first section of the cutely named Demon Trail, up the eastern shore of the north-south Lake McKerrow (the left branch of the Y, if you like). The rain had mercifully stopped, producing some interesting views in the morning over Lake Alabaster, with wispy clouds hanging round the tops – 'hogs backs' as Rick said the clouds were called – but the track was pretty nasty, coming complete with big mud puddles to negotiate, and heaps of moss-covered boulders that were even slimier than a Kiwi politician. It didn't take too long, though, and was a pretty little walk, and by lunchtime I'd arrived at the Demon Trail Hut, where I found a beautiful little beach and washed all my clothes. By now the sun had truly come out, and apart from the sandflies, who were epic all the way along the track, it was bliss. I also met more people – Phil, Tash and Steve from Christchurch – and before long we were all yarning the evening away. Too late we all discovered that Phil's snoring was about as loud as a human being's can be, but after a day's tramping it takes considerable noise to keep you awake, and besides, I'd packed my earplugs. There were some tired looking buggers the next morning, though...
