Turkeys Nest Bivvy via the Wye Route – Leatham Conservation Area

Topographic map displaying the Wye Route tramping circuit to Hidden Hut and Turkey's Nest Bivvy — Our trip along the Wye Route to Hidden Hut, Turkeys Nest Bivvy & Point 1951 in Leatham Conservation Area

Turkeys Nest Bivvy is a tiny, character-filled backcountry bivvy tucked away in the Leatham Conservation Area in Marlborough. Reaching it via the Wye Route is an adventure in itself involving travel through the ‘Garden of Despair,’ many native birds, beautiful South Island beech forest and spectacular views.

We headed into the Leatham Valley in May 2022, just after a polar blast had coated the landscape in frost and snow. Along the way we encountered toutouwai, korimako and even a couple of unexpected kea, stayed in Hidden Hut, and squeezed ourselves into the wonderfully cosy Turkey’s Nest Bivvy for the night. We also attempted to reach the summit of Bounds but discovered that winter had other ideas and by the end of the trip had become slightly obsessed with the question of whether mushrooms can actually explode to spread their spores.

This is our trip report along the Wye Route to Hidden Hut and the Turkey’s Nest Bivvy, including the route, conditions of the tracks, huts, navigation challenges and some of the more memorable moments that made this such a fun winter tramp in the Leatham Conservation Area two years after our previous adventure around the Leatham-Molesworth Route.

The Leatham Conservation Area is a fantastic place to go tramping. It’s easily accessible, not busy, and has plenty of challenging routes involving on and off-track travel. Not to mention stunning scenery and some cute huts/bivvys. I’ve since returned to the Leatham Conservation Area a number of times to tramp the Lees-Hellfire Circuit and do a traverse from Wash Bridge on SH 63 to the Leatham Road via Silverstream Biv, Bull Paddock, Lost Stream and Siberia Hut.

Fast Facts Planning Information

Location: Leatham Conservation Area
Topo50 Maps: BR 26 Mount Patriarch
Duration: 3 days, 44km, elevation 3,546m
Difficulty: Advanced due to off track navigation required above Turkeys Nest Bivvy & tree fall on the Wye Route to Hidden Hut & to Turkeys Nest Bivvy requiring careful navigation
Start / Finish: Leatham Road (off SH 63)
Huts: Hidden Hut (standard, 4 bunks, water from river), Turkeys Nest Bivvy (basic, 2 bunks, water from stream)
Best Season: November – May.
Dogs: With Permit only
Other Tramps in Leatham Conservation Area: Lees-Hellfire Circuit, Leatham-Molesworth Circuit, Silverstream Biv-Bull Paddock-Lost Stream-Siberia Hut Traverse

Our Route Overview

Section	Time (hours)	Elevation Gained (m)	Distance (km)
Leatham Roadend → Turkeys Nest Bivvy via Wye Route	9 – 10	1,708	20
Turkeys Nest Bivvy → Point 1951 → Hidden Hut	6 – 8	842	9
Hidden Hut → Leatham Roadend via Wye Route	6 – 7	996	15

Day 1: Leatham Road to Turkeys Nest Bivouac

A frosty start in the Leatham Valley

We had camped the night before at Kowhai Point Campsite (now permanently closed) in the Wairau Valley before packing up and driving to the end of Leatham Road.

The weekend’s polar blast had settled over the Leatham Valley, leaving a beautiful frost coating everything. It was a winter wonderland. Puddles were frozen solid and I had great fun jumping into a few and watching the ice splinter. The larger ones required more careful navigation because the ice was incredibly slippery.

Tony may even have attempted to ice-skate across one.

Hiker walking along a heavy frost-covered track in the Leatham Valley during a winter tramp — Frosty morning on the 4WD track up Boulder Stream

The Wye Route

We planned to join the Wye Route from Boulder Stream to make our trip into more of a loop. After crossing the freezing cold Boulder Stream and slithering underneath the barbed-wire fence, we joined the fenceline that climbed steeply up the hill. It’s easy to locate from Boulder Stream and marked on the map

The climb initially felt like one step forward and two steps backwards, with the frost making the grass extremely slippery. I wasn’t complaining, though—I do love a good hill climb—and we quickly warmed up, particularly once the sun came out.

Near the top, we spotted a random orange track marker. We wondered whether someone had put it there as a joke, since we weren’t actually on a marked track or route. Perhaps enough people follow the fenceline that a marker seemed worthwhile after all.

Once we joined the Wye Route, it was simply a matter of following the valley up towards the saddle. There was a good foot trail, and it was easy enough to follow especially given we were following a fence for part of the route.

As we approached the unnamed saddle (we called it Wye Saddle as that seemed the obvious name!), patches of snow became more frequent. I made the obligatory joke that we were now above the snow line and would need ice axes and crampons—a long-running joke from our previous Leatham-Molesworth Circuit trip.

View looking down Station Creek valley toward mountain ranges along the Wye Route — Station Creek on the way to the unnamed saddle to Wye River

The ‘Garden of Despair’ after Wye Saddle

A large orange triangle marked the saddle, and we were rewarded with spectacular views towards the Richmond Range that I have traversed.

Then we dropped into what I named the “Garden of Despair.”

It was full of spaniards, matagouri and other prickly horrors. The ground trail wasn’t particularly well established and the track markers were spaced quite far apart, so I lost the route a few times.

I suspect Tony sent me ahead as a sacrifice.

He certainly seemed entertained by the shrieks and cursing coming from up ahead as my legs were ripped to shreds by spaniards poking at me from every direction.

After many tramping trips with Tony—and many occasions where my legs had been shredded—I had finally bought some gaiters. This was their first outing, and they definitely prevented my lower legs from being completely shredded.

Unfortunately, these spaniards had timed their growth perfectly to target the exact gap between my shorts and the top of my gaiters!

Scrub and native tussock, matagouri and spaniards along the steep climb leading up to the Wye Route Saddle — ‘The Garden of Despair’

Hidden Hut

It was a huge relief to escape the Garden of Despair and enter beautiful beech forest.

There is something special about walking through a typical South Island beech forest. Honeydew coats the beech trees, fallen beech leaves cover the track and moss creates layer upon layer of different shades of green.

Best of all, the forest was filled with birdsong.

We had the constant chatter of toutouwai/South Island robins and korimako /bellbirds, with birds frequently fluttering down right in front of us. It was absolutely wonderful and one of the highlights of the trip for me.

Native South Island robin (toutouwai) perched on a mossy log in beech forest along Wye Route — Friendly robin, a great relief after the not so friendly ‘Garden of Despair’

Eventually, we reached Hidden Hut. Maybe it wasn’t quite as hidden as the name suggests, given that we had managed to find it!

I went to sign the intentions book to write that we were continuing on to Turkeys Nest Bivvy, only to discover that the hut book was actually an old New Zealand Forestry Service book.

That immediately made me realise it must be pretty old. I flipped to the front and discovered that it dated back to 1986—older than me!

Historic hut book from Hidden Hut showing handwritten entries from trampers staying at a remote New Zealand backcountry hut from 1986 — Hidden Hut logbook. Thirty six years of trips in a single book and not filled yet.

Legless Lizards

Beyond Hidden Hut, the route became more challenging in places, with clambering over treefall and sections where the track wasn’t immediately obvious. We were very glad to be doing this part in daylight and luckily the route here simply followed the Wye River.

⚠️ Route warning: A gps device would be useful for this section as the track markers weren’t always obvious and although the route follows the Wye River, the route eventually leaves the Wye River to start the climb towards Turkeys Nest.

At one point I found a stick coated in frost, with fungi frozen onto it. My over-active imagination immediately decided it was a “legless lizard.”

This required some explanation.

My boss had recently walked the Abel Tasman Track during the April school holidays and told us how a weka had snuck into her son’s bag and stolen one of his snake lollies. They had turned around just in time to see the weka running away with the “snake” clamped firmly in its beak

⚠️ Do NOT feed wildlife and try to prevent any unintentional feeding like this as native birds like weka and kea can get very sick from human food and it ruins their natural hunting skills leading to scavenging with increased risk of accidents from human interaction ⚠️

Unfortunately, when my boss told us this story, my colleague had just finished a night shift with me and got slightly confused. She thought my boss meant an actual snake—or a legless lizard as she called it.

Orange fungus growing on a fallen branch above a rocky forest stream on the Turkeys Nest Bivvy route, Leatham Conservation Area — A new species of legless lizard

The Climb to Turkeys Nest Bivvy

Our final challenge of the day was the 500-metre climb to Turkeys Nest Bivvy which again had some tree fall that we had to navigate around in the dark.

Fortunately, the sunset provided a spectacular distraction. As we climbed, the sky and Richmond Ranges began glowing red.

Then we got another surprise.

We heard the unmistakable calls of a couple of kea.

Kea aren’t particularly common this far north in the South Island, so hearing them was a wonderful surprise.

Pink and orange sunset over mountain ridges during the climb to Turkeys Nest Bivvy — Sunset on the way to Turkeys Nest Bivvy

A cosy night in Turkeys Nest Bivvy

Turkeys Nest Bivvy is like a cute little doll’s house. With two people and full packs, getting through the door and moving around inside required a fair amount of gymnastics and careful manoeuvring.

But it was all part of the fun.

Tony had one particular goal for the evening: getting a fire going. He had never had a fire in such a tiny hut before, as most bivvies don’t have fireplaces.

Initially, we managed to smoke ourselves out and had to leave the door open for ventilation. Once the fire was properly established, though, we had a wonderfully cosy little hut for the night.

In fact, it became so warm that we eventually had to open the window.

Day 2: A Snowy Climb Towards Bounds

The next morning was another bluebird day.

We left our heavy packs at the bivvy, took only day gear and followed the creek towards Turkey’s Nest and the ridgeline. The ground was frozen solid in places beneath the scoria, making for some careful footwork.

Once we reached the ridgeline, it immediately became obvious that the route Tony had originally had in mind for reaching Bounds was no longer an option. The easiest route involved dropping into a basin east of the summit, but there was simply too much snow and ice.

Instead, we decided to follow the ridgeline for as long as we could.

We followed an old farming fence, which felt slightly spooky. It was hard to imagine sheep surviving at that altitude when there appeared to be nothing but rock.

It reminded me of our recent tramp in the Kaweka Range, where sheep had also been unsuccessfully grazed high in the range.

The spooky fence did have its uses, though.

In places, we had to use it to haul ourselves up and over steep sections of rock.

Small mountain bivvy, Turkeys Nest Bivvy, on a steep forested slope above Turkeys Nest with distant Richmond Range in background — Above Turkeys Nest Bivvy with the Richmond Range in the background

The Mountain We Did Not Climb

Eventually, we reached spot height 1951 metres, and Tony started celebrating.

He thought he had finally reached the summit of Bounds.

Meanwhile, I had my doubts.

I knew the summit was marked on the map with a trig, and it didn’t seem like we had climbed far enough. I pulled out my GPS and confirmed what I suspected: we were standing on the spot height, not the summit.

Now what was I supposed to tell Tony?

Luckily, he had already come to the same conclusion that we hadn’t actually reached the summit of Bounds. Funnily enough, he’s now has had over 8 attempts to climb Bounds with 20 different people and still has yet to make it.

We decided to turn around here as the steep ridgeline in front of us had too much snow and ice to continue along without the appropriate alpine gear. We told ourselves that the mountain will be there another time. The ultimate goal of every trip is never about the summit or the distance but rather coming home safe. I added Bounds to the peaks on my list that I call “The Mountains I have not climbed.” This is a list of mountains like Mt Potts where I have had to turn back before reaching the summit for various reasons relating to safety. To me this list of mountains is a good reminder how safety is of the utmost importance.

We sat there for a while enjoying the views before the cold wind eventually convinced us to head back down to Turkeys Nest Bivvy for lunch.

Tramper standing on snow-dusted rocky peak at Spot Height 1951m near Mt Bounds in Leatham Conservation Area — Sarah on our ‘summit of Bounds.’ High point 1,951 m

Snow-dusted rocky alpine ridgeline and mountain peaks along Bounds Ridge, Leatham Conservation Area — On the ridge to Bounds 2,044 m (left skyline)

Back to Hidden Hut

From the bivvy, it was a relaxed walk back down the hill to Hidden Hut for the night.

While I was cooking dinner, a wasp started buzzing around me. They are an annoying invasive pest that cause significant damage to beech forests.

I grabbed the nearest thing I could find to swat it.

Unfortunately, that happened to be the hut book.

Luckily, Tony walked in at that exact moment and rescued the hut book before I could do any damage to it. He then went after the wasp with a New Zealand Hunter magazine, which seemed like a much more appropriate weapon.

Hiker wearing a yellow coat, standing outside a white hut, pointing at the name Hidden Hut with his walking pole — Tony at Hidden Hut

Day 3: Hidden Hut to Leatham via Wye Route

The walk out from Hidden Hut along the Wye Route felt completely different from our journey in.

This time, we had clag and light rain, which seemed to make the green of the beech forest even more intense. When we popped out onto the saddle, the mist gave the landscape a wonderfully mystical atmosphere.

On the other side of the saddle, Tony and I entertained ourselves by trying to play baseball with snowballs and our walking poles.

I hit one out of the ballpark.

Clear tributary flowing through a moss-covered forest gorge on the Wye River route — Tributary of the Wye River

Hiker standing beside an orange route marker at Wye Saddle in misty alpine terrain, Leatham Conservation Area — Sarah on the unnamed saddle aka ‘Wye Saddle’ above Wye River before the mist cleared

Exploding Mushrooms

Once we reached the section of the Wye Route that we hadn’t walked on day one, we started noticing mushrooms everywhere.

I named the Common Earthball (Scleroderma citrinum) “potato mushrooms” because they genuinely looked like potatoes.

Close-up of a large potato-like brown wild mushroom growing in moss along the Wye Route tramping track — Common Earthball (*Scleroderma citrinum*) or ‘Potato’ mushroom to Sarah

We also found lots of mushrooms that appeared to have broken apart.

“Do some mushrooms explode to spread their spores?”

Tony and I wondered aloud as we wandered along the Wye Route, completely unaware that this question would occupy us for the rest of the weekend.

Tony thought he had read something about exploding mushrooms before (like Puffball fungi), and the subject kept us entertained for much of the walk out.

So much so that we nearly missed our ferry in Picton because we were frantically Googling exploding mushrooms.

Large orange-brown mushroom growing beside the Wye route through alpine forest — Exploding mushrooms?

Trip completed May 2022