Balmacaan Saddle

Time: 4 hours and 20 minutes. (Car park to saddle, 2 hours)
Distance: 13.1 km
Start: Lake Camp, eastern end car park
Finish: Same place, it's there and back
Date: Friday 3rd October 2025

For today's walk we had plans A, B, C and D, with plan A being to climb Mount Harper/Mahaanui in the Hakatere Conservation Park, and plan D to turn the car around and drive home. B and C were something in between. But, a decision would have to made on the spot at the base of the mountain - such were the vagaries of the inclement weather systems swirling around Te Wai Pounamu this week.

It was drizzling in Ōtautahi at 7:45am. I packed the PLB in my bag and, with music blaring, drove across town in record time (school holidays) to pick up Nicole. From there, it was pedal to the metal and the Canterbury Plains/Kā-Pākihi-Whakatekateka-a-Waitaha, whizzed by in a flash. At 10:20am on the dot we were standing at the eastern end of Lake Camp/Ōtuatari with a fine mist hanging about. There were signs of thinning though - if you stood still and looked upwards you could see blue skies. 

We went through the gate and set off at a jaunty pace along the farm track which runs all the way to Lake Emma/Kirihonuhonu (Plan C). With the snow-melt in recent days, there was a section of track underwater and flowing like a river. We took an unnecessarily long detour without getting boots too wet.

About 20 minutes from the car park, we came to the unsigned turn-off to the Balmacaan Valley.  This was where, last year, me and my hoa rangatira went off-piste, crossed the fan and headed up the steep ridge to the Mount Harper/Makaanui summit. Our Plan A. However, today the low cloud obscured the entire Harper Range - including most of the fan. Plan B - Balmacaan Saddle - was a go. 

An old farm track follows the Balmacaan Stream all the way up the valley to the point where you have to climb steeply up to the saddle. It was easy going except for a fair few river crossings where we slowed and pfaffed around, trying to maintain dry feet. This could be achieved by teetering on wobbly riverstones and leaping across large gaps. Miraculously, dry feet mostly prevailed. At these river crossings, the farm track disappears altogether and cairns show the way across the shingle. 

As we worked our way up the valley, blue skies began to shine through. Lovely! The farm track stopped abruptly at the last stream, just before the climb through scrub up to the saddle. The temptation here might be to follow the fenceline, but I can vouch that this route is a very uncomfortable scrub bash through prickly matagouri and spikey Spaniard grass/Taramea. From a distance we could see that the small ridge to the left looked markedly less scrubby, so we headed in that direction, following a barely discernable path that took us - 25 minutes of huffing and puffing - to the top.

At Balmacaan Saddle (1150 m), we took copious photos and ooo'ed and aah'ed at the majestic views down to the Rangitata valley, partially shrouded in cloud. This landscape, stippled with tussock, reminds me so much of my mother's paintings. It was lunchtime and we settled down for paramanawa. Nicole had made coffee, bless her. We noticed a carcass nearby and eventually investigated further. A decomposing wild pig's head with a dislocated jaw. A suitable subject for arty photography.

It was time to get unterwegs again. First though, some intense bag repacking to contain a sandfly repellent leakage. We descended to the stream where I replenished my water bottle. The walk down to the track junction felt super quick.  A Kārearea/New Zealand falcon - recently named Bird of the Year 2025 - flew overhead. As we exited the valley we got those spectacular views of Kā Tiritiri o Te Moana to the northwest.  This time, we did a better job of negotiating the underwater stretch of the track. And, miraculously dry feet mostly prevailed.

The drive home whizzed by in a flash. There was a quick stop at the Mount Somers General Store to buy pressies. Ōtautahi had been drizzly all day. I dropped Nicole off at her kainga and, with music blaring, I headed for mine.