Christchurch’s Cashmere 4WD Club is anything but formal, nevertheless they gathered together for an official winter drive through some of Canterbury’s stunning back country.
Recently our very unofficial 4WD club organised a little overnight trip that was classic Canterbury; i.e. braided rivers, snowy peaks, panoramic views, a million gates to open, and a bit of matagouri to top it off. Actually, a ton of matagouri. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
We convoyed out of Christchurch after work on Friday and spend the night at the old Avoca Homestead (in the North Canterbury/Arthur’s Pass area. For more info check out https://www.doc.govt.nz/parks-and-recreation/places-to-go/canterbury/places/korowai-torlesse-tussocklands-park/things-to-do/huts/avoca-homestead/ Ed)
The homestead is a restored 110-year old heritage building with three bedrooms, six bunks, a lounge, and a kitchen. The site is managed by DOC and open to the public, and the 25km gravel access road would take under an hour to drive if it weren’t for the many gates to open and shut along the way!
While this is a very neat place to stay, do not leave your co-driver/gate-opener at home! The road is scenic and generally unchallenging until the last 500 metres, where it comes to its finish with some boggy ruts and the reasonably formidable Broken River crossing.
We arrived at the Broken River crossing well after dark, which made for a fun game of: who is crossing the river in their underpants to see how deep it is? Before we could narrow down who might want to play, our over-excited buddy lead-footed his lifted Suzuki Vitara straight across the river. And with no problems at all, the rest of the convoy bumped across with only a splash here and there on the bonnet.
The night started off quietly with sausages and star gazing before escalating to some adult beverages, and some totally safe axe-related antics... luckily for us we had the homestead to ourselves.
A morning dip
The bright light of morning revealed to us an absolutely beautiful view, with the Avoca Homestead nestled within a bowl of towering peaks. This is a fantastic place to get away from it all, just over 120 kilometres from Christchurch. The light of day also revealed a relatively tame finger of the Broken River had been crossed the night before. We had a little play in the
river, preparing ourselves for the many more crossings to come.
After opening and closing roughly 617 gates, we were back on SH73 headed west towards the Poulter River, the unofficial Cashmere 4WD Club consisting (for this trip at least) of three Mitsi Pajeros, two Toyota Prados, and one adorable little light blue Suzuki Vitara.
The next stage of our trip saw us turn off the highway north of the Waimakariri River onto an incredibly scenic farm road which lead us to all of the matagouri, and the Poulter River. Our trip leader had done excellent reconnaissance on how to get us this far, but no truck paint was left unscathed from our attempts to get down to the riverbed.
Oh dear x 1!
Our buddy Fabs had joined in on the excursion for his first ever Cashmere 4WD adventure, driving his show-worthy 1996 Land Cruiser Prado complete with powder-coated snorkel. We all said a prayer for him and watched cringingly in the rear view mirror as his shiny steed barreled into the gnarled matagouri. Even in our seasoned Pajero, which was already bordering on having matte paint, we had to drown out the screeching and turn the music up to enjoy the descent to the river.
Once there the crew enjoyed a few passes across the first thin braids of the Poulter River, and some of our newbies got to test out their snorkels for the first time. Along the bank, some proper bog holes provided some entertainment as well, with the low and wide 2004 Pajero “Fat Amy” getting stuck in a particularly stinky rut. A quick snatch and some laughs later, we found ourselves idling up-hill again, looking down on the beautiful turquoise ribbons of the Poulter.
With elevation came matagouri again, squealing against both sides of the trucks in places. Windows up, music up. We winced again, wondering if Fabio might want to hop in with someone else before any more damage was done to his beautiful rig. But when we came to a stopping place big enough for six trucks – a landing overlooking the expansive terrain – not only did Fabs roll up with a smile and ready for more, but proceeded to unpack various cheeses, prosciutto and breads in a spread that only an Italian would consider proper food for a 4WD trip.
Oh dear x 2
It was during this lunch stop that our buddy in the feisty little Vitara realised that, despite packing and already using his jerry can, he would need to stop here to avoid running out of petrol on this trip. Perhaps too much fun gassing it in the bog holes... but also perhaps just too small a gas tank for the mission. He hopped in Big D’s Prado, and full of lunch and fancy cheese, we carried on.
During the trip planning (a very important part of four-wheel-driving) we had come across some internet chat about an alluvial fan that was tricky to go down and downright difficult to get back up. After lunch we came upon this feature, which began with a committing right hand turn down to the scree. Driving in groups and with co-drivers is imperative when exploring new places, and manoeuvres like this turn onto the fan are exactly when drivers need guidance with tyre placement.
The descent down the fan continued to prove the worth of co-drivers and spotters, as the drivers navigated jagged rocks, soft spots in the scree, and potentially steep drop-offs. Half way down, we came to an option: continue straight down, or turn across the fan and traverse to a slightly less committing exit. With our remote location in mind, we chose to traverse the second half of the fan, off onto dirt again, and down to the river bed.
Bow wave bonanza
And this, my friends, is where the real fun began. Splashing across the beautiful wide river is what four-wheeling in Canterbury is all about. With the alluvial fan being the furthest point of the drive, we began working our way back via the river, criss-crossing back and forth like six boats on wheels. Most crossings were smooth enough but many were deep, with the bow wave splashing over our bonnets, onto windshields, and into windows. Smiles got wider and cameras snapped as trucks turned to watercraft.
While there are many rules with safe water crossings, knowing the depth of the water and what may be lurking beneath are two of the most important factors to consider. At one point our convoy reached a potential crossing that appeared both deep and tumultuous. Large areas of unrest within a river often indicate rock or some other obstacle beneath the surface, and in this particular case it was flowing fast enough that no one felt comfortable getting in. The old saying 'if you cant walk the river, you cant drive the river' was on our minds as we parked up to consider our options.
This problem was unforeseen. Even if the most experienced of us did cross successfully, could we risk the less experienced? Definitely not. At least our buddy in the Vitara could hike back to his truck and get help... Or at least beer? We threw rocks, dipped toes, and brain-stormed... but no one found a suitable place to ford this crossing.
Drone to the rescue
Thankfully Fat Amy’s driver came up with an ingenious solution. When at first we had grumbled that he brought his drone again (not really... but maybe a little), we now were delighted as he sent it aloft in a reconnaissance mission up and down river. If we did find a spot to cross nearby, could we even make the next one down river? If we didn’t, would we have to attempt to climb the rowdy scree of the alluvial fan?
Our newly brilliant mate buzzed the drone back and forth, eventually discovering a narrow, steep exit from the river that we had missed about 500 metres before the uncrossable section. Relieved and rejuvenated, we turned the convoy back and ascended the road to exit. The wide, dry track out climbed again, affording a few final views of the beautiful Poulter River, before landing us right back where we began thus completing the planned loop successfully.
We aired up tyres and traded high-fives before returning the way we came, out the impressively scenic farm track off SH73 then back to Christchurch tired but triumphant, with a little more experience and a bit less paint.
