I’m lying at the bottom of a bank somewhere not on a track. I have just slipped a distance down the side of the hill that would be difficult to claim as controlled. It’s some time after 1am. I quickly check in with my body and it seems like everything is still working fine. The main change is that the slide has released a surge of adrenaline that has replaced the weariness I had a minute ago. I should probably do this. I spring to my flat and charge in the direction that I think Cone Saddle is in…

The S-K is a challenge to get from the northern end of the Tararuas to the southern end, often targeted in 24 hours or a single push. It starts from Putara (formerly known as Schormann’s Track) to Kaitoke, hence S-K. Going from south to north is a K-S.

Last summer I completed the Valleys route (the “easiest” of the three main routes) in 23:20. After this, I had set my sights on the Tarn Ridge route for this summer - looking to complete it in one push, and ideally within 24 hours. I knew that this would be a very challenging goal for me, but I have also been increasingly drawn to these challenges that are a relatively simple concept - from one end of the mountains to the other under your own steam in 24 hours.

I had down a few trips out to familiarise myself with the route and to toughen my legs to the specific demands of the Tararuas. This left me having covered about 80% of the whole route before, and most of it fairly recently. The main lesson from my Valleys last summer had been that it was important to know the night section really well, when fatigue is at its highest and route-finding is at its hardest. I had done an extra recce run from Waiohine to Kaitoke and felt that I knew that section like the back of my hand.

Any endeavour of this nature is reliant on having generous and amenable people in your life that don’t think too hard when you ask them for favours. When I saw on a Tuesday in December that we had a perfect weather window brewing for the weekend, I realised I would need to start building my logistical support. I didn’t get very far down my list of generous and amenable people before I had an immediate reply from Levin saying that of course he would drive me in our campervan to Putara. After a surprisingly sound five hours of sleep in the van together - soothed by Levin’s bearish snoring - my 3.30am alarm fired off and we both sprung to it.

*Ready to go at 4am after a surprisingly good sleep*

Levin had said that he would run a few kilometres in with me, before turning round and driving back to Wellington. After the eighth “I’ll just come a little further”, I did seriously wonder if he might come all the way to Kaitoke. At West Peak, he finally admitted it would be foolish to continue any further and handed me the extra water he had muled up from Herepai Hut for me. We had been treated to a stunning sunrise as we had reached the bushline, with clear skies across the ranges and views all the way up to Taranaki - the conditions were not going to be an excuse today.

*Everyone would benefit from a Levin at sunrise in their life*

Around Pukemoremore, I had an hour or so in the clag when I did put on my buff, but it was a welcome relief, given I was mostly concerned about overheating. Past the Dundas Hut turn-off, I was now on the only section of the day I hadn’t covered before. I had recced most of the route, but there was about 15km from here to the Baldy turn-off that would be new to me. This felt like the right balance between being well-prepared for the challenge, and keeping a sense of adventure about the day. I reached Arete Hut with limited issues, moving well and keeping up with all of my fuelling goals.

I met a solo tramper on Waiohine Pinnacles coming the other way and we were equally surprised to see each other. He seemed like he was on an awesome adventure around the Tarn Ridge area, and was familiar with S-Ks - word is spreading.

I was slightly alarmed to arrive at Tarn Ridge Hut and see the lid off the water tank, and started worrying about what critters might have found their way in there. My hydration plan for the day had me collecting 2.5 litres from here, and I had foolishly not brought any water-purifying tablets for this eventuality. I consoled myself that any issues from this would likely be a problem for after I was out of the mountains and filled up my flasks.

The climb up to Girdlestone seemed to go on forever and the descent towards Adkin was pretty sketchy with the wind picking up slightly, so I took my time here. Around North King, my energy was dropping a little and I was starting to make a few errors with my footing, including one slip that led to me grazing my shin and needing to apply some first aid. At Baldy turn-off, I felt like the lofty 24-hour goal might already be slipping away, but decided this was a moment to delve into the belief bag. I sat for a couple of minutes, busted into a caffeine gel and gave myself a little pep talk. From here, I started to hit a nice rhythm past McGregor and had a very amusing moment when I managed to take a tumble in almost exactly the same spot I had injured my knee on a recce earlier in the spring. Fortunately, I was unhurt and able to see the funny side.

As I reached Jumbo, I started to see day and weekend trampers taking on the classic Tararua loop. The first couple I came across were perhaps less familiar with the concept of an S-K when I stopped for a brief chat (“Putara? Today? But that’s at the other end of the District?!). As I cantered along the ridge and the 7pm golden hour started to hit the ridge, I had a minute of intense gratitude, thinking about how powerful it was to believe in myself so strongly and to give myself the chance of achieving such a lofty goal. My eyes began to well up at the enormity of this reflection, and as they did so, I tripped over a rock and landed flat on my face in a bout of hysterical laughter - talk about coming back to earth with a bump.

With Mount Holdsworth summited, I knew I had 10km of pure downhill to Totara Flats ahead of me. As I was processing the magnitude of having most of the climbing in the bag, I heard a sound from somewhere down the minute. Is that someone blowing their emergency whistle and requiring assistance? It doesn’t quite sound like a whistle. A trumpet? Surely not! And there, sat contendly on the ridgeline by their tent is a very happy camper practicing their trumpeting with one of the finest views in the world. Very much an unexpected moment.

Down to Powell Hut and there’s heaps of people enjoying their evening and not believing their luck at the weather they have for a Saturday night in the mountains. I’m offered a gin and tonic, which is tempting, but I still have business to attend to.

At Totara Flats Hut, I was feeling fantastic in the cooler evening temperatures. I had executed my fuelling and hydration plan diligently and it seemed to be working very effectively, with my energy levels the best they had ever been 18 hours into a challenge. I pulled out my flash new headtorch that I was wearing for the first time (Ed: what an idiot) and pressed on down the Waiohine Gorge.

I know that the turn up to Cone Saddle is just after this swingbridge. Wait, where is the sign? Spin round, spin round again. Don’t mess this up before the tough bit has even started. Phew, there it is, but 5 minutes lost trying to locate the sign when I know I am right on the edge of a 24-hour schedule. Should I take a moment to calm down from these elevated stress levels and reset like I did at Baldy turn? Nah, let’s charge up as fast as we can.

I know that halfway up, there’s the false flat and descent before the last push to the Saddle. Why isn’t it coming? I’m losing time and I was feeling so good less than an hour ago. Push harder, push harder. This headtorch seems to be getting dimmer, maybe I should get those spare batteries out and take a moment to change them? No. Push harder, push harder.

So much treefall that wasn’t here the last time I came through and each time a battle to refind the trail. Losing time that I can’t afford to drop if I want to make 24 hours. Push harder, push harder.

Why can’t I see an orange triangle? Just keep going up and I’ll hit the Saddle. This gully looks good, up we go. Check Topo - damn, I’m off the trail, but I’m at the same elevation as the Saddle. Let’s not give up that climbing, head south-west and I can B-line to the Saddle. Push harder, push harder. A slip, a crash, a slide. I’m at the bottom of the bank, but I’m fine. Let’s use that adrenaline and push on. A few minutes later, I go to check the time and my watch isn’t there any more. I guess it came off in the slide. I could turn back and look for it. Even if I found the spot I slid to, I don’t particularly want to go there.

I pull out my phone and have a bar of signal for the first time since Pig Flat. I fire off a message to Lucy to let her know that I am fine and moving, but now well behind 24-hour pace. Eventually, I get to Cone Saddle and a wave of relief comes over me. In hindsight, I could have phoned Lucy for a lift and headed out to Waiohine Campsite, but the thought didn’t seriously cross my mind in the moment.

*At least DoC have replaced that “20 mins” sign…*

More fear and loathing on the descent down to Cone Hut. I’ve stopped fuelling during my period of madness trying to find the Saddle, and I still haven’t changed the batteries in my headtorch. I’m repeating so many of the errors from my Valleys. That day I was far enough ahead of 24-hour pace for some rookie mistakes, but not today.

At Cone Hut, I’m pretty spent emotionally and physically. I realise that there is going to be little or no running from here, and it is tempting to go into the hut for a few hours’ sleep before pushing on at first light. I know that Lucy is already at the car park waiting for me though - and could I ever wear that “No Sleep Til Kaitoke” fashion cap with a straight face ever again?

Once the sun comes up, I allow myself a little lie down for five minutes, but otherwise, I press on, hiking steadily. Eventually I come to the Swingbridge across the Tauherenikau and know that the track quality is better from here. At the roped creek, I get an even bigger boost to my mood as I hear my name being screeched from the other bank and see Lucy waiting for me.

After a big hug and a can of Coke, it feels like I am carried all the way out over Puffer Saddle and back to the van. A photo by the sign, some cold pizza and a sense of relief, gratitude and achievement. For supportive friends, for fantastic conditions, and for this amazing playground we have an our doorstep in Wellington.

There is so much of this adventure I am extremely proud of and there is very little I would change about the first 18 hours. My extra recces from Cone turn-off to Kaitoke were clearly insufficient for dark and fatigued conditions. I’m delighted to have done the route in one push, but I’m sure I’ll be scheming up another attempt at 24 hours next summer. The main change I would make would be to either attempt the whole thing with a friend, or to get one to meet me at Cone turn-off for that section in the dark to help with navigation and pacing. I would also never underestimate the power of pausing to reflect and reset for a couple of minutes, rather than always feeling that rushing on is the best option.

A huge thank you to everyone who offered advice and support for this adventure, particularly Martini’s website, which is an excellent resource, plus friends who had patience for my incessant questioning. Of course, I also couldn’t have done it without the generosity of Levin dropping me at the start, and Lucy’s endless support, even when I end up finishing these thing six hours later than advertised.

S-K Tarn Ridge Attempt

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S-K Tarn Ridge Attempt

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