I’d come to Makarora chasing a classic: the Gillespie Pass Circuit, a 55km tramp that threads through some of Mt Aspiring National Park’s most dramatic country. For years I’d heard of its alpine basins, the demanding ascent to the pass and the fabled Siberia Valley waiting on the far side.
After a 10-minute jet boat dash up the Makarora River, along with several other trampers, including an American family of three, two young Auckland doctors and a German couple, I was finally setting foot on the track
The circuit – also known as the Young–Wilkin Circuit – has long been a favourite for trampers exploring Otago’s Southern Alps. Although often approached from the Wilkin Valley, arriving in Siberia over Gillespie Pass is indisputably more outstanding.
I scrambled up the steep bank and followed a smooth path through tawhai forest that increasingly gave way to sunlit grassy flats. Pointed peaks leaned over, waterfalls trickled from every precipice, and the sun shone radiant in a cloudless blue sky. What a contrast to the day before, when I had peeped miserably from my Makarora bolthole as a downpour enveloped the world.
A swingbridge over the Young River North Branch led to Young Forks campsite. It was lunchtime and I was soon joined at a picnic table by the cheery Americans, who’d hoped to do the Routeburn but found it completely booked. They were already thrilled with the scenery this alternative offered. Originally from Colorado, their adventures had taken them all over the world. “You guys really have this hut thing set up!” said one.
Young Forks campsite is in the flood path of a natural dam, 4km upstream, formed in 2007 when a significant slip created a 70m barrier across the valley. Scientists consider the dam unstable and advise people not to camp here after heavy rain.
With lunch done, I climbed above the tumbling Young River South Branch to Stag Creek, gaining about 200m. A quirky narrow bridge and walkway suspended over the creek’s mossy chasm conjured up images of hobbits and trolls. Still ascending, albeit gently, the path to Young Hut was now plain sailing.
Surrounded by ribbonwood and encircled by mountains, the 20-bunker has a small bunkroom and larger dorm adjoining a heated common area. It replaces an earlier hut that was closed in 2006 due to avalanche risk. Camping is not available here.
The day surprised me. I had thought the walk up the Young Valley might be humdrum, an obligatory 18km plod before the climax of Gillespie Pass. Instead, it had been an unexpected highlight of beech forest and sunny, open flats beside a sparkling river.
I woke early the next morning, suspecting I’d find the second day demanding. It is only 12km to Siberia Hut, but that includes an 800m climb over Gillespie Pass.
It was the best of mornings: crisp and fresh, cloudless and still. A fingernail moon hovered on the ridgeline.
The first hour was a good warm-up, edging through the forest to the lip of the Young Basin, a spectacular subalpine cirque some 200m higher than Young Hut with superb camping. Up here the Young River runs clear, like molten glass. This is whio country, although I wasn’t fortunate enough to see or hear any.
The air was unexpectedly bracing in that shadowy mountain theatre and I layered up. Ahead of me the bare, chiselled trapezoid of Mt Awful was kissed by morning light, while the basin’s ramparts appeared cold and dismissive.
The track oscillated between tussock-filled meadows and river boulders, then suddenly veered southwest. A 600m scramble followed up a near-vertical goat path, and I clutched at any vegetation that seemed anchored. Now in the alpine zone, the snowgrass on this part of the route is notoriously treacherous when wet. I was grateful for the dry conditions.
Three hours’ toil from Young Basin saw me on top of Pt1629, the apex of the Gillespie Pass Circuit. Rich golden tussock contrasted with gunmetal grey peaks that stood in sharp relief against a royal blue sky. Mt Awful dominated the view and Young Peak rose starkly to the northeast. To the west stood distinctive Mt Alba with Castor and Pollux peeking from behind. Rob Roy Peak and Avalanche Glacier were many miles to the south. Far below was Gillespie Stream and, beyond that, the fabled Siberia Valley.
Gillespie Pass proper is a precarious notch a few hundred metres to the north. The pass was first crossed in 1949, after which the New Zealand Alpine Club proposed its name to commemorate ‘the fine work carried out in this area over a long period of years by the late J. C. Gillespie, who also inspired the crossing’. It has been a gateway to Siberia ever since.
A steep, crumbly section coming off the summit was short-lived and not as bad as I’d imagined it would be. I had to take more care negotiating the 1.5hr descent to Gillespie Steam, the path obscured by tussock and leatherwood and hard to see in the bright sun. On reaching the cooling waters I knew I’d done the hard yards, and here was a good spot to shake out the knees.
Three inspiring photo stops
Bridge over the river at Young Basin
A bridge at the south end of the Young Basin affords an impressive scene, the foreground campsite dwarfed by Mt Awful. Admire the view back down the glacial valley and check the water for whio.
Descent from Pt1629 to Gillespie Stream
The walk off Pt1629 to the bushline offers grand views of Mt Awful, rising over Gillespie Basin. You can also look up at the true gap of Gillespie Pass, surrounded by sheer bluffs.
Crest of Crucible Lake moraine wall
An arresting viewpoint with Mt Alba soaring overhead and Crucible Lake at your feet. Views back down the deep U-valley are similarly spectacular with the pyramid of Mt Turner rising behind Siberia Valley.
It was a warm afternoon and the canopy provided welcome relief as I followed the stream for another hour before finally popping out of the bush onto the flats of Siberia Valley, golden grass underfoot and giddying bluffs above. The signposted junction for Crucible Track was five minutes on. Fit, ambitious trampers may be able to squeeze in the side trip to the lake on pass day. Not me, though: that would be tomorrow’s mission.
More than eight hours after leaving Young Hut, I at last reached Siberia Hut.
“It’s a big day,” agreed the ranger, knowingly. She pointed me towards an emerald pool at the base of a waterfall, two minutes from the hut. I put my toes in tentatively. It was shockingly fresh but made me feel alive.
The sun fell below the crags soon after and kea called on the other side of the valley. And then … black. I’d just walked among mountains and valleys millions of years old, but here was a dark skyscape, billions of years older. Thousands of stars arced overhead like a ribbon of pointillist dots. It was humbling.
Morning broke crisp and still for the third day in a row. I made Siberia Hut my base for a 15km day trip to Crucible Lake, well known for the icebergs that decorate its waters in early summer.
The dwindling snows of Mt Dreadful lay directly ahead as I walked 3km to the track junction, and warm rays began to spill into Siberia Valley from the high ridgeline of Gillespie Pass.
I crossed Gillespie and Siberia streams, both lapping lightly at my calves, and found the German couple camped at the base of the cascade leading to Crucible Lake, some two to three hours’ walk away.
The 250m ascent through tawhai forest alongside the cascade is steep and technical at times. At the top the track sidles briefly then crosses the stream to its true right bank. I found myself in a hanging valley, the slate-grey parapets of Mt Alba looming in front. Another hour through scrubby meadow, dotted with glacial boulders, saw me at the base of the steep moraine wall that guards Crucible Lake.
A tale of two valleys
The Young River and Siberia Stream have quite different cultural histories.
Young Valley
Te Awamakarara Young River was an important resource to Māori before European settlement. Kā Huru Manui, a Ngāi Tahu cultural mapping project, reports that Te Awamakarara was a known kāinga mahinga kai where weka, kākāpō and tuna were among the foods gathered.
Siberia Valley
Siberia Valley has long been popular with trampers and alpinists. According to New Zealand Geographic, ‘Local legend has it that valley and mountains were named by an early explorer who had difficulty getting out of the area and was in no mood to appreciate the stunning scenery.’ The name ‘Siberia’ stuck, and was gazetted in 1950 after being submitted by the New Zealand Alpine Club. These days, access to the valley along the Siberia Track is much easier. There’s also an airstrip opposite Siberia Hut on the far side of Siberia Stream.
The final slog up the 120m wall was a total energy-sapper but then – there it was. Tiffany blue, gentle ripples glinting in the sun. It was exquisite and, for the moment, I had it to myself.
The Germans arrived soon after and we made for the water’s edge. A collective spriteliness took hold and, seizing the day, we took the plunge. Swift laps out and back to the shore saw us revitalised, ready to tackle the return hike with newfound energy.
Crucible Lake is a stronghold for pīwauwau rock wren, and those luckier than I may well hear their ‘peep, pip-pip’ or see them bobbing among the boulders.
On the walk back to Siberia Hut I contemplated Mt Doris, a shapely peak at the head of Siberia Valley. Curiously, some weeks after my trip, I was at home and sifting through my grandmother’s photos from the 1940s, a time when Siberia was gaining standing among tramping and alpine communities. I stumbled across one of Mt Doris – a mountain with which she shared her name. Back then there was much more ice draping the peaks, ice that is now dripping on borrowed time.
Daybreak on the last morning ushered in a smudgy sky. Rain was on the way.
The 8km track to the jet boat pick-up at Kerin Forks was of Great Walk standard, crossing open flats alongside Siberia Stream before disappearing into bush to sidle along a deep gorge. There was one last view of the lower Siberia Valley and then it was down to the rush of Wilkin River.
Two and a half hours from Siberia Hut I arrived at the jet boat pick-up on the Wilkin’s true left bank. The Aucklanders and the Germans soon appeared, providing an appropriate excuse to break open the camembert and crackers I was still carrying.
In my grandmother’s day, horses transported people and their gear up rivers like the Wilkin. Now, horses have been replaced by horsepower: jet boats are the name of the game.
I had initially fancied the idea of walking the full circuit, but the 15km track down the Wilkin is not as well maintained as the other sections and serves up a tricky crossing of Makarora River at the end of the day when you are most weary. Peace of mind has its place, especially when walking alone, as I was.
Truth be told, whirling down the Wilkin was a blast. Our skipper was as enthusiastic about local history and ecology as he was about chasing ankle-deep channels and spinning 360s.
As we sped downstream I looked back up the Wilkin towards Siberia. Days earlier I’d arrived in Makarora with an appetite for challenge, adventure and stunning landscapes. The Gillespie Pass Circuit had these in spades.
Safety first
Crossing the Makarora River requires appropriate skills and should not be attempted after heavy rain. Siberia and Gillespie streams, as well as the stream immediately before Siberia Hut, may be impassable after heavy rain. The route over Gillespie Pass crosses avalanche terrain and should be avoided in winter or spring.
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