Listening to the calls of two kea at 5:30 am isn’t your average wake-up call, but on the rugged slopes of the Seaward Kaikōura Range, nothing is quite “average.” From our infamous “Rubbish Bag” campsite to the 2,590m summit of Te Ao Whekere, our journey was an energetic yet magical traverse of unstable scree and pristine snow. Whether we were navigating “moveable” rock sections or ascending like “happy dinosaurs” in crampons, the contrast of alpine peaks against the Pacific Ocean reminded us that the best views come after the hardest climbs.
Important Planning Information
- Location: Ka Whata Tu o Rakihouia Conservation Park, Seaward Kaikōura Range, Kaikōura
- Topo50 Map: BT27 Kaikōura & BT28 Mangamanu
- Distance/times:
Walk into Jordan Stream campsite: 2hr | 328m elevation | 3.4km
Te Ao Whekere Summit: 13-15hr | 2,675m elevation | 16km - Duration: 3 days / 2 nights
- Difficulty: Hard / Expert due to extensive off-track navigation, steep scree, moveable boulders and exposed ridgelines. In winter/spring, alpine and avalanche knowledge and gear is required
- Gear: Alpine Gear in winter/spring/early summer
- Start / Finish: Puhi Puhi Road, (40 mins north of Kaikōura )
- Camping: Camping spots in Jordan Stream. The camping spot we found was on the true right at the 600m contour mark in the tributary of Jordan Stream we climbed up
- Dogs: Yes, with DoC permits only
- Camping: DoC Puhi Puhi Campsite just down the road from Jordan Stream
Other Trips in the Kaikōura Range
An Unexpected Greeting at Jordan Stream
“Kea. Kea.”
Much to my surprise, I found myself staring up at two noisy kea calling out from the trees above the scree slide. I had initially assumed the noise was just Tony finding an alternative route—seeing kea in the Seaward Kaikōura Range while climbing Te Ao Whekere had never even crossed my mind!
I was on a week-long trip with a group of friends from our local tramping club—Matt, Tony, Megan, and Emily. We were attempting to get up Te Ao Whekere (the second highest peak in the range) as our opening climb for the week.
The day prior, we had walked up Jordan Stream to our base, dubbed the “Rubbish Bag Campsite” on a previous trip by our friend Aimee (who was sadly stuck recovering back home in Wellington).
Our alarms went off at 4:00 AM, and by 5:30 AM we were making steady progress up Jordan Stream towards the main scree slide. To avoid grinding up sliding scree the entire way, we pushed through a stretch of bush before jumping onto the open scree slope. Climbing was tough work—every two steps up, we would slide back one—but we were kept distracted by a magical sunrise over Kaikōura.
Just as we pulled over to the edge of the scree slide for a breather, we heard those iconic calls. A pair of kea perched in the branches above us, seemingly enjoying the spectacle of our ascent. They stayed for nearly 30 minutes, keeping watch over their captive audience.
The Long Grind
With the kea’s cheeky calls echoing behind us, we pushed up the scree slope and reached the main ridge. We carefully built a cairn at the top of the slide to ensure we wouldn’t miss our turn-off on the return journey and accidentally end up descending toward the farm at Totaranui.
We began traversing along the ridgeline. The walking was straightforward at first, but as we gained elevation, the terrain shifted into fields of large, moveable boulders.
At this point, our group stopped to assess our timing and energy. Three of our group made the sensible decision to turn back, recognizing they wouldn’t hit the required turnaround time for the summit (a case of mountain lassitude!). Emily and I decided to press on, fully aware we still had a massive climb ahead of us.
Fortunately, the loose rock section gave way to a flatter, more stable section of the ridge.
Happy Dinosaurs in the Snow
After yet more climbing, we finally hit the snow line at roughly 2,000 meters. We strapped on our crampons and instantly felt like “happy dinosaurs” crunching into the firm snow. What a relief to trade the unstable scree for solid alpine snowpack!
The terrain became noticeably more technical beyond the basin. Exposed rock required careful sidling and climbing where the snowpack was thin, and the wind began picking up. We had to pause frequently to route-find around tricky sections on the ridge where there wasn’t quite enough snow cover to crampon across.
Summit Views: Where the Mountains Meet the Sea
The temperature plummeted as cold air blasted us on the final ridge push, with winds gusting between 40–50 km/h.
At 3:00 PM on the dot—our agreed turnaround cut-off—we stepped onto the 2,590 m summit of Te Ao Whekere.
Standing on top surrounded by ocean-backed snow peaks was breathtaking. We could see Mount Alarm and Tapuae-o-Uenuku (“Tappy”) in the distance. The stark contrast of alpine snow meeting the blue line of the Pacific Ocean was unforgettable.
At 2,590 meters, this marked the highest peak I had successfully climbed since completing my alpine snowcraft course.
The Descent: Blood, Gravity, and a Welcoming Beacon
Before heading down, Emily asked me for the single most important rule for our descent. My answer was immediate: “Concentrate.” Reaching the summit is only the halfway mark, and we still had complex terrain to navigate back down safely.
During the initial descent over mixed rock and snow, I managed to skin my knees on a rock ledge without noticing—leaving a dramatic trail of blood in the snow for Emily to follow down!
It was a massive relief to clear the loose rock section and reach the main scree slide. What took hours of painstaking effort to climb that morning took a mere 15 minutes of sliding to descend!
Darkness set in just as we reached the bottom of the scree slide. From there, it was a short headlamp walk back toward camp. Turning the final corner along the stream, we were greeted by a roaring campfire lit by Tony, Megan, and Matt to guide us home.
Falling with Style: The Journey Home
The following day was a relaxed two-hour walk out along the river. True to form, I still managed to slip on a wet boulder and fall flat into the stream. I collapsed into a fit of giggles that I couldn’t pull myself up out of the water for several minutes. Matt had to haul me up while Tony lamented missing the perfect photo opportunity!
On the drive out, we spotted the dinosaur resembling a “Sarahsaurus” sunning itself high up on a cliff face near the Puhi Puhi Doc Campsite—proof that you can find dinosaurs even in the Kaikōura Range!
