This was my painting at the beginning of the week. It is a painting of Blue Range Hut in the Tararuas. It's one of my pieces for the Art of a Hut exhibition at the end of this year. All I have to go by is my drawing and a rather bad photo from an entirely different angle which has only been helpful to see how the moss grows on trees so far. It is quite a challenge painting almost entirely from my head. It is still far from finished and this is how it looks today, Friday.
I haven't been working full time on it so there is still a lot more to do on it. I will finish it this week. I have also been doing a lot of drawing. This is the longest drawing from this week, a portrait of Marion on which I spent about six hours.
And while I have not been at the easel or the drawing board I have been shooting arrows from my bow (also losing them!) and working my way through the huge amount of content on the Art Renewal Center website. I'm enjoying learning a lot about Art History and discovering amazing artists I never knew existed before. The site has many high res images of some great paintings so it's a great place to view art if you are like me living in the uncivilized north of New Zealand. I dream of going to see the great master paintings in Europe and America. We do have some pretty good work here too, but I don't often have the opportunity to see it. Besides NZ is still mostly in the Dark Ages of Modern Art!
And to end with here is a drawing which I finished months ago but never photographed until today. I never see it but I think of Thoreau's Walden which I was listening to while I drew this.
Here are a few photos of my life since about a month ago when I last posted. The first half of November I was in Christchurch with Caleb who was on holiday from Uni. We went tramping out in the mountains in the Arthur's Pass area with Thomas and a couple of their friends. We hitched out to Arthur's Pass and spent three nights tramping on the west coast side.
I've never been in mountains as big as this before and it was an amazing experience. The artist side of me worked hard to figure out those mountains. I'd seen a lot of paintings of mountains and they seemed to me to to be not quite right, no artist seemed to be able to capture the huge solidness of them, and then I saw the mountains for myself and I was amazed at how like those paintings they looked! They seem so airy and full of colour, the shadows of clouds constantly moving over them reminded me of water reflections and when the clouds came down low they were lost in a soft fog. I should love to go down there one day and spent a while in the mountains trying to capture in paint that sense of solidness and hugeness as well as that airy elusiveness.
Almost at Carrol Hut, Arthur's Pass behind us.
A waterfall in the stream which flowed past the hut.
Thomas and me. The rivers down there are amazing, big and braided.
Dilon's Hut on the river flats which we enjoyed very much apart from the west coast sand flies. Caleb caught a nice big trout while the rest of us were still sleeping. Went for a walk up the river and had fun on the cable car.
We walked out down the river and hitched back to Christchurch. Caleb and I waited a few hours in the misty rain and sand flies before we were picked up by a kindly Dutch couple touring in a campervan. Finally got back a few hours after the others and after walkinf for an hour from the edge of the city. Hitching remains unreliable...
The next day but one we were off again doing more exhausting stuff, this time mountain bike riding for two days with Caleb and Thomas. We rode from the Uni up and along the port hills and on to Banks Peninsula and Packhorse Hut.
In packhorse hut, a pretty stone hut, where we stayed the night, in the morning a whole lot of day trampers turned up so we cleared up and spent most of the day carrying out bikes up and around something like a mountain before finally being able to bike down the steep farm road and fields on the other side. That was exhilarating and terrifying! Only one accident when Caleb's chain broke and he went flying and landed with his bike on top of him.
Well, I've been home for three weeks now and have been getting ready for another hut drawing trip for The Art of a Hut project, and have been doing a bit of painting and drawing for myself.
I drove out to Tarara one day last week to do some paintings of the huge boulders strewn around the foot of that big rock. But somehow I forgot my paintbrushes! I considered finger painting, but ended up just doing a watercolour sketch and hunting around for interesting compositions to paint another time.
This is what has been going on in my studio this week. The violin is a ticklish thing to draw, get one line or curve wrong and it looks all off.
I ordered a whole lot of new business cards and they arrived in the mail the other day. They are nice and shiny and stiff, sorry about my blurry phone photo.
This weekend I'm leaving on another hut hop. This time in the Tararuas near Wellington. We will be spending two weeks in there, tramping two loops of seven nights each. I'm hoping to get some good drawings done I'm getting excited now and looking forwards to it. !!!!
I am home again from another hut drawing trip in the bush. This was another 'hut hop' and part of my project 'The Art of a Hut' in which I am gathering material for a collection of drawings and paintings illustrating New Zealand's North Island backcountry huts.
The original plan was to be away for two weeks, but as things turned out we came home a little earlier, skipping the last two huts in the Pureora Forest Park. Here is a map of the original route planned which I drew up for my Mum's peace of mind.
The yellow line is the route we actually walked. So ending up on the wrong side of the national park was part of the reason for not moving on to the last two huts planned.
The most challenging part of this trip was that we hitch hiked all the way down and back out again. It made it all the more interesting and added several more hours of walking. The good thing about hitching was that it cost us nothing in travel except time, which we had. It also meant that we could come out of the bush at a different point and not have to end up back at the same car park.
Hitching on lonely country roads heading away from civilization is not something to be undertaken without being prepared to camp under a tree or two along the way. Estimated times of arrival vary a little... Two days hitching got us (Guillaume, Jerusalem, and I) to our arranged meeting point out the back of Eltham. Our last ride was with Mr and Mrs farmer Brown who were very kind and helpful to us. They didn't know of any DOC walking tracks at the end of the road, but we knew there was. They took us to their house while it was pouring with rain and let us use their computer to look at maps while they rang around the whole countryside to find out if there really was a track out there to Trains Hut. From the information gathered we learnt that there was/had been a track out there but no one had walked it for a long time and it was more than likely overgrown. It would be a challenge and a bit of a bush bash. But there was a track and so we carried on. Mrs Brown gave us a lift a fair way down the road and from there we walked...
Until it got dark and we made camp for the night under a hedge. Earlier, Jerusalem, who likes the idea of having only the very essentials for survival in the bush, had questioned Guillaume bringing a tarpaulin. But he soon was thankful for it! Next morning I woke up from what little sleep I had in a pool of water. That day was our longest day of walking. 13 hours of walking in hill country with a 20kg pack. Fun!...
We started at seven and walked for hours to the end of the road during which not one car passed us. We made good time and got to the end of the road at 11am. There was a house there and walking down the road we met a girl with pearls in her ears going to feed the ducks. We asked her for directions and she directed us up to the house to ask her parents. There we met one legged Billy. He was very friendly and willing to help. 'Hang on, I'll put a boot on and show you the way.'
He directed us to the beginning of the track which we would have struggled otherwise to have found. From there we walked on, found the beginning of the track, entered the bush, lost the track, found it again, and so on and so forth for the rest of the day. It was indeed a track of the lost variety. Most of the markers still remained which is all we had to go by. The rain that had been hanging about all morning began to dissipate and so that was something to be thankful for!
The walk took a lot longer than the 5h stated on the old sign at the beginning of the track. It actually took us 11 hours. Most of the time was lost in navigating through thick undergrowth, over fallen trees, and finding the next marker. We walked until 9pm when I was beginning to think I might accidentally fall asleep on my feet. After two hours of marker hunting by torchlight we decided to sleep and carry on in daylight. We nibbled on brussel sprouts (courtesy of one of the rides we hitched), cheese, and chocolate, pulled ourselves into sleeping bags and tried to sleep.
Next morning we walked down two hours and finally arrived at Trains Hut-- just after passing a sign that said 'this track is no longer maintained'! The joy of arriving! It was expressed very quietly as you can see in the videos I took. There were goats grazing around the hut when we arrived and Jerusalem didn't want us to scare them too far off as he wanted to go shoot one for meat.
It felt like we had arrived home. Water! Clean dry clothes, and food, in that order. Jerusalem being a qualified chef took on most of the cooking, and so we ate well. During the walk on day two he had shot a young goat and he curried it up for lunch.
So, first hut arrived at on day three. From then on it was much more simple. I would draw/paint the hut in the afternoon, in the morning we would walk to the next hut.
Above, inside Train's Hut, my painting in the windowstill. Below, Jerusalem on the roof smoking goat meat in the chimney.
We stayed one night each at Trains, Tahupo, and Puteore huts. The tracks were still not the smoothest but not as bad as coming into Trains. Those huts were very nice, cozy and well looked after. Though the stoves in Tahupo and Puteore were of the kind not helpful for cooking on.
At Tahupo Hut we made the decision to change our route and come out at Omaru Hut. This was mainly a result of our two biggest mistakes of the trip. Very silly ones and the result of some serious mismanagement which I must take responsibility for. First was not organizing soon enough how to cross the Whanganui River and then not being able to contact the Jet boat service once we had their number. That was no problem for the boys, of course we would swim across or make a raft, and we had a long rope... But we also didn't have a map of that area. Very bad idea, I don't know how we missed that one. We were supposed to buy one on the trip down, but with hitch hiking and a Saturday afternoon, we were not able to buy one... So, the track being uncertain, we decided not to add another mistake on top of others and planned to stay at extra huts on this side and come out another way.
Jerusalem napping after arriving at Puteore Hut.
Guillaume not liking the camera. We washed socks at most huts and there is always socks hanging around the chimney. Though on the first two hard days of walking Guillaume and I acquired some nasty blisters which caused us some grief. In this hut we had a feast. A recent DOC working team had just been in and left a whole lot of food with a note to help ourselves! Eggs, bread, butter, fizzy, and chutney, was very welcome.
I managed to make the weather look amazing in all my photos. But even drawing this hut I had to dash inside with my drawing and wait for a shower to pass. It rained every day that we were out there.
The view from Puteore Hut and the hut.
The walk from Puteore Hut to Pouri Hut hut was again on a 'no longer maintained track'. But we did not see that sign until the end of the walk! It wasn't a track, just a series of markers nailed to random trees though the bush. We had to cross a river on this walk, which meant going down, down down, to the river and then straight up again. After seven hours walking in the steadily worsening rain we suddenly came out onto the Matemateaonga Route, a great highway bulldozed through the jungle which we had just felt as if we were getting lost in. It was like stepping into civilization, and looking back one could hardly tell that there was a track at all where we had just come out of. We laughed with relief, to us it was the most amazing, wonderful, ridiculous thing we'd come across in a long time. Half an hour later, and after walking the same distance we had covered that morning in two hours we arrived at Pouri hut wet to the skin and freezing cold but happy.
We stayed a whole day and two nights at Pouri hut. Being a much more popular hut on a well frequented track, it was a much bigger hut, but not as nice as the smaller cozy basic huts. It rained-- it poured here, which my photos don't show! There were a couple of spells of sunshine during which I managed to do a few sketches of the hut, but most of the day was wet. There was an amazing view over the ranges which was hidden by a wall of white cloud most of the time. I managed to get a photo while the sun was shining.
On the 8th day of the trip we walked to the last hut, Omaru Hut. The last huts on a trip always seem to be the worst for drawing. I'm always exhausted, it's always raining and my drawing often doesn't turn out well. I tried painting between showers and hail. Didn't turn out great, then I sat on the floor of the hut and did an angry drawing of the stove. And that turned out alright. The strong hard lines seemed to compliment the subject. So something good did happen and my mood improved!
Guillaume and I decided we would press on and continue to Pureora Forest Park after getting out the next day. It would mean a long day hitching and possibly involve camping on the road somewhere. But the next day it became more and more obvious that we weren't up to that. We were hobbling along behind Jerusalem with sore feet and legs. It was only an hours walk out to the road, but after a few more hours walking down the very quiet road we decided that we'd head home. Our first ride was on the back of a farm ute which took us as far as 'the road' which was the Forgotten World Highway. There we split up with Jerusalem and after walking a fair way on the road towards Stratford we managed to get five rides to Hamilton where we stayed with Guillaume's sister and enjoyed hot showers and civilization again.
We didn't see anyone else while in the bush, I think most people are sensible and let the weather dictate when they will go tramping! Overall it was a good trip, and I got several good drawings and lots to continue working on at home. In another post soon I wrote about our hunting adventures which were very minimal thanks to 1080. Horrible stuff. But it is effective judging from the numbers of dead possums and rats we found on the tracks.
I'm glad to be home, but as soon as I'm rested I begin to think of more hut drawing trips. Still got the famous Tararuas to look forwards to. Also, this summer I hope to do a sailing trip and draw the few huts on the Northland coastline.
Walking into Te Totara hut: 6 December, 2013.
We started walking at about 5:00 pm. It was late to begin what turned out to be a 6 hour walk, but when home is the next hut, it's either that or sleep in the car park. We walked out from Roger's Hut that morning and I stopped to finish my sketch of Skips hut on the way.
We had a good walk out to the car down the track like a highway, the track there is also a bike trail and so the going is pretty even. We got to the car and had then to find the beginning of the next hut track. There was no reception in the area and Mum was expecting to hear from us that day, so we stopped off at a house beside the road and were kindly allowed to borrow their phone. I called Mum to let her know not to worry about us if she didn't hear from us in the next two weeks as it was not likely we would be back into civilization before then. As it turned out we did because of my knee.
Half of the way to Te Totara hut was by a dirt road through private land. From the map we had hoped we could dive up it but when we got there it was obvious the Starlit would not make it up. Through numerous fords and deep ruts. So we walked the extra 2.5 hours to White's Clearing at the top. On the way I saw wild deer for the first time. I'd been looking out for deer during the whole trip. We don't have them wild up here in Northland so it was quite a novelty. We saw so many on the way up through the private land. There was a herd of hinds grazing on the slope opposite us, we counted about 30 of them and crept up close to watch them. We observed them for a long time with Caleb itching to get his gun out, but we were still on private land so he couldn't do that. Then the wind changed and they smelt us, saw us and then disappeared in a trice.
As soon as we got onto DOC land and on the river path downstream to the hut Caleb got his gun out of his pack and walked ahead with all eyes and ears open. Here was the best chance he had to shoot a deer. The sun had gone down and the light was slowly fading. We walked on down the river crossing and recrossing it numerous times. My knee was beginning to trouble me, especially on the rough terrain of boulders and loose rocks, so I concentrated hard on the ground ahead. I remember thinking that if Caleb did shoot a deer I might be able to persuade the boys that we should stay an extra day at the hut. We would have enough food and my knee really didn't want to do any more walking-- my thoughts were blasted out of my mind and I looked up startled at the sudden explosion. I saw Caleb dart away from the track down to the river. 'I got im!' he was saying excitedly as we followed him to the river edge. He let off two more shots in the excitement somewhere over the river. Then he dumped his pack and waded across with his axe. I never saw the deer until he pulled it out from behind a bank where it had fallen.
It was just a young thing, and I felt sad to see it lying there dead when it had been so alive moments before. It was still warm when I stroked it's face and allowed myself a quiet moments grief. But Caleb was jubilant. Nothing could have pleased him more; his first deer! And I was happy for him too, and for the fresh meat that it meant.
We were still a couple hours walk from the hut and was getting dark very fast. We set off in high spirits, which sank steadily during the next several hours. Caleb carried the deer on top of his already heavy pack until the path began to go up, and he could barely move from the weight of it. Then Thomas helped and carried half of it and from then on it was an awful struggle through the dark trying to keep to the track by spotting the orange triangles with the torches. I don't think we could have kept to the track if it wasn't for the markers. And even with them we almost lost the track a few times and had to turn around and re-find it. But at last, at long last we came to the hut and crossed the river up to our waists and collapsed at the hut. It was 11:30. We didn't even have venison that night, but ate a quickly cooked up meal rice and tuna and fell asleep as we hit the bunks.
The next day looked like this: Legs of meat hanging either side of the fire getting smoked to keep the flies off. Strips of meat hanging over sticks to dry it out and keep. And meat in the frying pan to eat. We did stay an extra day at the hut and we ate a lot of venison, especially the boys, I was amazed at the quantities they were able to consume!
All the venison lasted us for the rest of the trip and we had dried meat left over. It saved a lot on the grocery bill! Hopefully we will have the same luck in our next hut hopping trip. This was one of the highlights of the trip which was well and truly earned!
While I was out tramping and drawing huts I managed to strain my knee and doing lots of walking on it made it no better. So we came home early as it was getting too sore to walk on anymore. I've been hoping that it will get better soon so that we can start 'hut hopping' again this month, but it is not going away in a hurry. It dose not hurt if I am not working it and just doing every day walking but once I'm walking for an hour or so up and down hills that's when it begins to agonize me. But I'm hoping for the best and planning to hitch down with Thomas around the 12th to join Caleb in Hawkes Bay and start drawing huts in the Kawekas. I rode an hour on the bike today to go and feed my horse Lady, (she is doing well and the stitches should come out in a few days), and it didn't hurt then which is a good sign
But if my knee is still too sore by then to walk on, well, I just wont be able to do it... Sad thought indeed. I'm missing hut life. I'd like to live like that some more. I didn't have to think about anything but doing what I love doing most, drawing. It was nice to be away from the busy world and too be doing what I'd thought about and planned for so long. There is something addictive about long tramps in the bush and getting to huts and staying there a day before having another adventure getting to the next hut. I always thought that people who always go on long bush walks were crazy to keep wanting to go back for more punishment. I couldn't understand why people seem to love it so much, especially as I was walking up and down some pretty steep walks drop dead tired. But now I can't wait to get back out there. I never thought that the actual walking could be so enjoyable. But it is; through beautiful places, one foot after the other, lots of time to think about lots of things or nothing at all. Enjoying good company and having interesting conversations on the way, or concentrating hard on the footwork when the path got steep and tricky.
I've just had a taste of it, but I've got myself hooked! I like tramping. I've become a hut bagger now, you can see all the huts I've been to here. Not many yet, but the list will grow considerably in the next few years.
This was one of the hardest walks we did; to Motutapere Hut. Mostly because we were tired and it was a sweltering day. From where the photo is taken from we walked all the way in and up to the bush through the forestry which was incredibly warm! The bush was a cool relief and we walked along a nice path until we got to the top of the ridge and then to our dismay the path went steeply up and steeply down over and over again in quick succession. The path went over all those little peaks at the right of the photo. There were ten in all until we got to the hut. I never felt more glad to see a hut!
Motutapere Hut, 25 November, 2013. Charcoal on Strathmore toned paper.
