Tunnel Beach- Dunedin

Real-time

Tunnel Beach is a popular short walk just south of St Clair, a beachside settlement 8kms from Dunedin's city centre.

The first half of the 2km return walk descends 150metres and drops quite dramatically down the side of some pretty magnificent sea cliffs.

The return journey involves an equally dramatic gut-busting climb back out! 

The object of fascination is not as you may expect, this impressive natural limestone sea arch that looks very much like a tunnel...

No, Tunnel Beach's claim to fame lies at the bottom of that extra large rabbit hole...

Through a tunnel and down 72 steps to a secluded beach below. Tunnel Beach.

John Cargill, son of Captain William Cargill (known as the father of Otago), excavated a tunnel to this small cove with its boulder strewn beach in the 1870s...

...so the Cargill families could bathe in privacy away from the prying eyes of St Clair (some canvas screens would have been easier). Sadly the beach has a dangerous rip which drowned Cargill's youngest daughter.

It's also best to visit the beach at low tide, when the sand is exposed and you can explore the nearby fossil-filled cliffs.

The only residents of this rugged coastline were a flock of feral pigeons roosting atop a weather worn sandstone column above the beach.

A few people climbed to the top of the sandstone column that the sea arch is attached to to take selfies.

Others rested on the cliff edge above Tunnel Beach. I wonder how many people actually miss the narrow passage to the beach. There are no signboards pointing the way to the tunnel and if you didn't venture further down than the bench seat overlooking the arch you would fail to see the tunnel. And especially if you thought the arch was the tunnel.

I left David sitting on the seat and carefully made by way over to the archway outcrop. With hardly any soil and a continuous supply of salt laden air, a mat of tiny plants cling precariously to the sandstone. They remind me of the hardy ground cover on the walk to Slope Point in the Catlins, the southernmost point in the South Island. 

There's a large random fairy ring on part of the sandstone, there's no mushrooms here though. perhaps there's another fungus growing beneath sucking out all the nutrients. When you're standing near the ring it's easy to think it might be a weakness in the rock and about to fall out at any moment. Needless to say I didn't stand looking too long.

I climbed to the top of the column but forgot to take the selfie instead taking photos looking south...

...and north.

The resting group of friends had been replaced by a couple who are on their bellies peering over the edge. I guess when the beach, known as Dunedin's most romantic, is not accessible, then this is the next best thing. Thankfully it's not called Lovers Leap....that's further up the coastline.

It was a tough haul back up to the carpark....count 50 steps, stop, lean on the fence, take big breaths, take in the view, gasp a hello to people striding it out downhill, take another 50 steps, stop, lean on the fence, pretend to take a photo.....you get the idea. I did it so you don't have to! 

Some people have no fear- click on the photo to enlarge

Ida Valley & the Cheat’s Rail Trail- Part 1

Another brilliant sunny blue sky day; winter down south isn’t so bad after all…..well at least I think so, David has a slightly differing opinion. Yes, there are heavy frosts, occasional snow and often a bone chilling wind blowing but most days are clear and sunny.  I have worked out what the key is, to surviving the extra cold days, it’s getting up late! By the time we step outside, the frost has mostly gone and there’s a hint of warmth from the sun, if we stick to the valley floors we miss most of the wind, and arrive home before the sun disappears you’d very nearly think it was a summer’s day. Very nearly.

We are always toasty warm in the van and in fact too warm sometimes, it’s very well insulated and the diesel heaters have certainly earnt their keep. We mostly only run one of them at a time as it gets too hot, and very rarely run them overnight unless the prediction is a -11 degree frost as it was the other night in Ranfurly.

We’ve been criss-crossing the Otago Rail Trail often since we arrived in Central Otago and have been visiting many of the points of interest along the trail while exploring. We’re doing the cheat’s rail trail; no aching muscles, no sore butts, no weather worries, no time frame, no crowds, and home-cooked meals and a comfy bed each night. We’re not cycling the150km route but we’ll see many of the stops and attractions along the way, in fact we’ll see a little more than the cyclists as we explore further afield.

Before we left to explore the Ida Valley one morning, I walked across to the Omakau Rail Goods Shed to take a photo and as luck would have it two cyclists appeared. They were from Wellington and were doing the trail in the off season to miss the crowds (and it was the only time they had off work). They had stayed the night at Blacks Hotel in Ophir and were about to head off on the next leg.

But first they had to stop and stamp their Rail Trail ‘passports’ and they were keen for me to take their photos stamping their books. I wished them well and they cycled off up the trail, disappearing into the bright sun which sits low on the horizon at this time of the year.

We headed off, back over the Raggedy Range and into the vast & isolated Ida Valley. Instead of turning south at the old Poolburn hotel we turned left and headed north up the edge of the valley on another very long, straight and narrow gravel road, passing a number of large farms with old homesteads, stone cottages and farm buildings along the way. We were headed for the Poolburn Viaduct, part of the Rail Trail and close to the road for those that are cheating.

I caught a glimpse of the viaduct through a rocky gorge as we approached and we parked beside a cattle stop close by. I thought we’d be able to walk up to the top of the ridge and along the trail to the viaduct. As I got out of the ute, I heard a whole lot of baa-ing coming from across the stillness of the valley and when I turned around I could see dozens of sheep running across the paddock towards us.

And they kept on coming, running and baa-ing from over the rises and from all corners of the paddock. More sheep that think we have food for them, the poor things. The initial ones had set off a chain reaction and now they were coming through the gate from the paddock next door, I kept telling David to ‘hurry up’ so we could get going before it turned into a riot.

We quickly headed off up the hill and the sheep headed off along the fence line towards the other paddock, perhaps there was food on offer in there, now that they had expended all that energy in racing over to this side of the paddock.

We climbed to the top of the hill and then found our way barred by a deep creek and rocky bluffs so we returned to the ute (quietly, so as not to alert the remaining sheep) and drove up the road another kilometre or so until we were on the right side of the creek.

We then climbed up to the trail and headed towards the viaduct passing the old Ida Valley Gangers’ Shed along the way, with it’s tin chimney at the back, this is where railway repair workers would have boiled the billy for their lunch or afternoon tea. Many of the old gangers sheds along the trail have been restored and can be used by cyclists for shelter on rainy days.

The view out over the Ida Valley is magnificent, this is just a small section of what is a vast open plain with endless blue skies and a huge expanse of grazing land with a hint of green, promising that the grass will soon grow even if only slightly, before it’s burnt to a tinder again in the relentless summer heat.

That’s the ‘road’ we’ve travelled up cutting across the centre, the valley continues on over the rise to Rough Ridge behind.

After a kilometre or so we round a corner and there is the Poolburn Viaduct ahead of us.

At 37 metres high it’s quite an impressive bridge for the tiny river below.

We cross over and continue on to the first of the two Poolburn tunnels, this one is 201 metres and it’s recommended you take a torch. It doesn’t appear to be too dark and you can see for most of the way through although I can see why cyclists and horse riders need to dismount, there could be quite a dust-up meeting someone else speeding through from the other direction (speaking of horse riders- now that is the way I’d love to do the Rail Trail).

As we headed back towards the viaduct I heard some chatter coming from the tunnel which surprised me as other than farmers going about their business, we haven’t seen a single person while exploring the back roads. Then out of the dark, who should appear? The two guys from Omakau this morning! The look of surprise on their faces was priceless, as I called out to them “What took you so long!”  It’s 18kms from Omakau to the viaduct via a route that follows the range along on the otherside before cutting through the Poolburn Gorge to the Ida valley here.

We made our way back to the middle of the valley and a tarseal road for a change. Ahead of us the Hawkdun Range (made famous by artist Graham Sydney), forms a lovely backdrop to the valley.

Suddenly a body of water appears to our right when we least expect it, it has a road side high fence & a couple of old buildings on the edge. We’re past before I realise that this is the famed Idaburn Dam. The dam that appears in a number of TV ads and is often shown when there’s a hoar frost. It’s also the home of the Roaring Game, that ancient Scottish sport of curling and is famous for the Bonspiel, the grand tournament which occurs when (and only when) the ice reaches 14cm thickness. That’s when the Ice Masters put out the call to curlers nationwide to come and play within 48hrs.

We screech to a halt (the story of David’s life- ‘Stop! Church!’ or ‘Stop! Old Woolshed…bridge…cottage…beautiful scenery…etc, etc’ He is a very patient man) and we return to the entrance. The Rail Trail also crosses the road at this point and I’m half expecting to see my guys again although they had a good 8kms to cycle before reaching here. This’ll be a good spot to have our lunch we decide, the gate isn’t locked but does have a warning.

The dam is mostly frozen, and somebody has been skating on it recently going by all the marks down in front of us but the edges are liquid, they’ll be no curling happening here for awhile. We walk around the edge heading for a larger building we can see around the corner. We pass an old hut and David has a look through the dusty window (no, he’s not going shopping- the bag he’s carrying has our lunch in it). Inside, hanging from every available vantage point, are dozens of old ice skates; I'm not sure, but some look like they’ve been in recent use.

The next weather beaten building looks to be the Clubhouse come Timer/Announcer/Music headquarters- it looks very much like the building that was at the head of the Marine Parade roller skating rink in Napier where I used to skate, albeit alot more rough around the edges. David sets up lunch on a wobbly bench and the hot soup is a welcome sight as that cool wind is blowing once again. You can see the edge of the ice below David, the stairway ends in water so there’s no stepping off onto the ice today. Just past the building the dam is back to water and apparently that end rarely freezes.

To be continued....Part 2 here

Arthurs Pass- Heart of the Southern Alps

We had a fabulous time at Lake Brunner and were lucky to have a couple of fine days before the rain set in once again. We left Lake Brunner during a break in the rain, heading for Jacksons where we were going to wait until the weather cleared before crossing Arthurs Pass. You'll remember this post from earlier, well now I can tell you more about our drive over the Pass.

Arthurs Pass is one of three passes that link the east and west coasts of the South Island. The Pass climbs to more than 900 metres through Arthurs Pass National Park and is the highest and most spectacular pass across the Southern Alps.

It took three days before we awoke to blue sky and a view out over the Taramakau River valley.

Perhaps we should have stayed another day, the Jacksons Retreat Holiday Park had a number of walks, a waterfall, two lovely tumbling streams (which were gushing torrents by the time we left), lots of birds and glow-worms. But we were keen to cross the Pass while it was such a lovely day. On our way out we stopped at probably the prettiest dump station we’ve visited on our travels. The only problem being that the van was facing downhill and the tanks didn’t empty fully. But then that happens at other sites too, you’d be surprised how many aren’t level.

Just up the road is the historic Jacksons Hotel. The first Jacksons Hotel was built in 1868 and served as a stage coach post. It was rebuilt in 1872 on a higher site after it was washed away by the Taramakau River. The second building went up in smoke & was replaced by this one in 1910.

Our next stop is at the settlement of Otira which was once a bustling village of 600 people but now has a population of just ten or so people. The Otira Hotel was built in the 1860s and was also a stage coach post. After the Otira tunnel opened in 1923 the village became a busy railway settlement.

In 1998 Otira became famous in NZ when the whole township was sold for $73,000. The sale included the hotel, hall, fire station and 14 rentable houses on 20 hectares of leasehold land. Last year, after 4 years on the market, the pub was sold to a Motueka man.who plans to buy the rest of the settlement in a few years.

Although we didn’t meet the latest owner (he was away on a break) I get the distinct impression that he is slightly eccentric. As you can see, both inside and outside the pub, there is an eclectic collection of hundreds of items from a by-gone era. There doesn’t seem to be rhyme nor reason for some of the items, perhaps generous people have passed on their collections. I know I wouldn’t like to be the one dusting in there.

I got a bit of a fright when I opened one of the lounge room doors to see an old lady sitting across the room (left middle photo above). She didn’t have me fooled for too long though, I’ve seen the likes of her before. Paper mache ‘old people’ were regular visitors to Mum’s craft shop in Hawkes Bay. A lovely lady in Matata in the Bay of Plenty used to make them to sell and they’d sit in deck chairs outside the shop welcoming shoppers in- oh look, I just happened to have a couple of 'old people' photos! That's Mum in the centre on the right, in case you are thinking 'that one looks very realistic'- the photo appeared in the local paper.

Our next stop was at the Death’s Corner Lookout which overlooks the engineering masterpiece that is the Otira Viaduct. Opened in 1999, the 440 metre four span viaduct carries the road over a stretch of unstable land and replaced a narrow winding, dangerous section of the road that was prone to avalanches, slips and closures. As magnificent as the viaduct is I was more impressed with the artificial waterfall that was created to divert water over the two lane highway, to plummet hundreds of metres into the Otira River below.

One final stop at the summit of the Pass to check out the memorial to Arthur Dudley Dobson, pioneer, explorer, surveyor and civil engineer who discovered the pass in 1864 (although Maori did use it earlier). Arthur Dobson was born in London in 1841 and died in Christchuch in 1934 at the ripe old age of 93 - the fresh air obviously agreed with him.

We stopped in Arthurs Pass Village for a late lunch and then decided we’d stay in the village for a couple of days instead of heading further east to one of the numerous DOC camps along the way.

This DOC campground was a little different than most, it was just across the road from the DOC headquarters for Arthurs Pass National Park, just along the way from the railway station and backing onto the railway line and sidings including a historic turntable. The bank I’m standing on taking the photo is a flood bank for Avalanche Creek which runs through the centre of the village.

Avalanche Creek arrives in the village via three vertical waterfalls that cascade down the mountainside across the road from the camp. This small section is the waterfall at the bottom of the falls, the middle section can be viewed from a platform just above these and there’s a very steep track up to the top section. The water, as you can see is crystal clear, it pools just over the bank from our camp and disappears into the gravel underneath the rail bridge before emerging into the Bealey River on the other side. The gravel must be very porous because it’s hard to imagine that amount of water not forcing the flow all the way to the river.

The middle waterfall forms a beautiful backdrop to Arthurs Pass Chapel’s main window. Like a number of churches around the country nature does a great job at providing a moving living stained glass window.

Arthurs Pass Village began its life as a road construction camp and then grew to provide services for travellers on the road providing, amongst other things, fresh horses for the weary travellers on the 2-3 day journey. Between 1907 and 1923 the village became a worker’s camp during the construction of the Otira railway tunnel. Many of the holiday cottages tucked into the bush around the village are former worker’s huts. The post office was one of the more unusual post offices we’ve seen on our travels. It looked more like a bus shelter and I bet it would be very cold collecting your mail in the middle of winter!

There are numerous walks around the village and along the Pass but other than a short walk to Bealey Chasm we didn’t do any of the popular walks.  We did spend an afternoon hiking up the Otira Valley in search of the elusive Rock Wren- I’ll do a separate post on that- but with the sun not reaching into the valley until late morning and it being bitterly cold outside until then, we stayed in the van tucked up in the warmth.

Historic Jacks Hut, a restored roadman’s cottage, sits across the road from the Chasm carpark.

Some of the most prominent features of the village are the railway yards, buildings and railway stations (old & new). Not so visible is the entry to the 8.5km long Otira tunnel, in part because it’s hidden in the shade all day long. The entrance is the dark hole at the end of the bridge in the top left photo.

And while the Arthurs Pass is mostly a peaceful alpine environment, there is the frequent rumble of passing trains, day and night.

Most of the trains were hauling coal wagons back and forth from the West Coast coal mines, it was interesting to note that 5 engines were needed to pull the wagons up to Arthurs Pass from Greymouth. And only two were required to take the empty wagons back to the Coast; on occasion the 3 spare engines were hooked onto the back of the passenger train.

Twice a day the Trans Alpine Passenger Train pulled into the station, the train transports visitors on, what some say, is one of the worlds great train rides through some stunning scenery. Personally I think the road journey is more spectacular- we have done the train, 17 years ago, but I have little recall of it other than the tunnel which went on and on. Odd when it’s the scenery that I should have remembered. Although I do remember stopping at the old A frame railway station and hoping for a kea to make an appearance (they didn’t). The old station has now been replaced with a long low profile concrete and stone building- you can see it in the background of the photo of our van back near the top of the post.

Near the underpass to the station is this information board with the rock and the carved logo beside it. It’s a pity that lichen is overtaking the emblem.

Still to come from Arthurs Pass-

Cheeky, Curious & Charismatic Kea
Stunning Otira Valley