New Zealand Canyoning – 2024-2025

Date: 26 Dec 2024 – 5 Jan 2025

Location: New Zealand

Author: Zen Marcos

Party: Harry, Nat, Sabs, Susan, Toby, and me

I was still buzzing from a recent canyoning trip in Switzerland—fun, aquatic, and stunning. New Zealand had a similar reputation, so when Nat and Susan invited me on a trip they were planning, I was in.

Planning happened over the following weeks and months. I say “happened” because I had very little to do with it. I tried to help, but everyone else clearly knew more about NZ canyoning. Nat, Harry, Toby, and Sabs had canyoned there previously. I, on the other hand, hadn’t been to New Zealand since I was four.

The plan:
26/12 – Fly to Queenstown, pick up the rental car, shop, and drive to Makarora. We had only managed to book accommodation for the first two nights. The rest would be camping.
27–31/12 – Tackle some Haast Pass classics: Wilson Creek, Imp Grotto, Robinson, etc.
1/01 – Drive to Glenorchy, resupply, maybe squeeze in a short canyon.
2–4/01 – Do some Glenorchy canyons: Eagles Nest, Major Mayhem, The General.
5/01 – Return the car and fly home.

Day 1: Flying in and Settling Down – 26/12/2024

After my Mum dropped me at the airport, I found my check-in zone and joined the line. This was only my second time flying without parents, so there was a hint of nerves. Maybe because of this, I was looking down at the ground.

“Zen.”

My neck snapped up. Toby was right in front of me. He had called my name a few times, but I didn’t notice. Now that I looked around, I saw everyone in the queue: Nat, Susan, Sabs, and, of course, Toby. Harry would join us the next day. Seeing everyone together brought my excitement to a crescendo.

At security, my carry-on got flagged. The operator pointed at the screen. “What is this?”

It was clearly a spatula. I told him so.

“Wait here.”

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have packed a big metal spatula in my carry-on. But it was a last-minute addition, and my check-in was already bursting.

After a while, another officer called me over. “I’m going to search your bag. Stand behind the red line, don’t touch the bag.”

I complied, watching her struggle to open the canyoning pack for a full two minutes. She eventually managed and triumphantly pulled out the spatula. “I need to speak to my manager.”

By now, I was struggling to suppress laughter. This felt excessive. Her manager arrived, glanced at it, and shrugged. “That’s fine.”

Still not done, she placed it on a tray and sent it through the machine again. At last, she was satisfied. I reclaimed my thoroughly vetted spatula and moved on.

On the plane, I was straining to see out the window from my aisle seat. New Zealand looked spectacular—such a textured landscape. My sense of awe only increased as we alighted. The airport – the whole city, in fact – was dwarfed by the scale of the mountains surrounding it. It didn’t help that Queenstown is more of a town than a city. It felt as though modern civilisation had only just touched the place.

Eventually, the attendants ended my gawking by ushering me into the airport. We assembled, collected our bags, and caught a shuttle to the car rental place. There was a moment of panic when the worker got in a tiny hatchback, but he was only moving it out of the way for our satisfyingly large seven-seater. Even still, with the five of us and all our luggage, it was tight. We didn’t even have Harry and his luggage yet! Susan and Sabs were placed under Nat’s scrutinous questioning for bringing two checked bags each. Why do you need two wetsuits, Susan?

Us, our luggage, and our shopping crammed into the rental car.

After a stop at the Cardrona Bra Fence and another at Wānaka, we made it to the Wonderland Lodge at Makarora. It was a lovely lodge, and pretty much the only thing in Makarora.

The Cardrona Bra Fence.

Day 2: Wilson Creek (v4a5IV) and Imp Grotto (v4a3II) Canyons – 27/12/2024

The next day, Sabs and Susan were doing a course through Wilson Creek with Alain Rohr (incredible canyoner) to get their white-water skills up. Harry wasn’t arriving until that afternoon, so that left Nat, Toby, and I. We decided to also do Wilson Creek. This canyon was spectacular. The crystal-clear turquoise water, the deep slot formations, and the clear stripes of quartz through the schist combined to give an unmatched sense of awe. The abseils and jumps were also quite fun. Truly an epic canyon. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

Some photos Nat took of Toby and I in Wilson Creek Canyon.

We were back at the car in under 4 hours, so after a lunch break, we decided to do Imp Grotto. It’s a short canyon, but spectacular and fun nonetheless. Combine that with the lack of a walk-out, and I wanted to do laps. It starts with a 12-metre jump (that we all abseiled), and ends in an epic jumpslide (you have to jump out to get to the start of the slide).

Some more of Nat’s photos from Imp Grotto Canyon.

Finally, we wrapped up the day with a short walk to the Haast River. The water was so turquoise! New Zealand never ceases to amaze.

The Haast River

Day 3: Robinson (v4a3II) and Cross Creek (v3a2II) Canyons – 28/12/2024

On the morning of the third day, Nat, Toby, Harry, and I began the walk into Ore Stream. Sabs had fallen ill, and Susan was thrown off by Nat’s warnings of difficulty.

If you read the heading, you already know that we didn’t do Ore Stream. The water levels were significantly higher than when Nat had previously done it, so she made the call. Instead, we picked Susan up and headed to the easier Robinson Creek. The water levels here, on the other hand, weren’t particularly high. Its infamous ‘roundy-roundy pool’ (a recirculation feature) provided more of a suggestion to go in circles than a command. Good practice, though. The theory is to stop abseiling a metre or two above the water and jump out from the wall to clear as much of the recirculation as possible. Susan didn’t quite get the memo.

Susan calmly getting off rope at the far end of the roundy-roundy pool.

The canyon was magnificent as always. Towards the end, there’s a 25m drop into a big, dark chamber.

Me demonstrating how to properly enter the roundy-roundy pool (left), and Susan dropping into the big, dark chamber (right).

A particularly appealing aspect of this canyon was that it ended roughly 20m from our car.

Our car, photographed from the end of the canyon.

Some more photos from Robinson Creek.

Next up, Cross Creek. This canyon is like a water park: slide after jump after slide after jump.

Some photos of Cross Creek.

That night, the rain came. We happened to bump into Daniel Clearwater (I was totally fanboying), who advised against doing Mather Creek the next day, as we had planned.

Day 4: Robinson Creek Canyon (v4a3II***) – 29/12/2024

The rain continued all night, nonstop. Not particularly lightly either. We woke up in the morning to a message in the group chat from Toby:

“I’m going to bail. Too wet for me. Rain’s supposed to persist all day.”

Susan had developed a sore throat, and Sabs was still out. That left Nat, Harry and I. Not wanting to leave our tents just yet, we agreed to do a short canyon later in the day if the weather let up.

It did eventually, so we emerged from our cocoons. I found that my tent was sitting in the middle of a giant puddle. Somehow, it hadn’t seeped inside. “At least you know you picked the flattest spot to pitch your tent,” said Nat. Thanks Nat.

So, early afternoon saw the three of us heading to Robinson Creek. We chose this canyon because we thought it would be manageable in high flow, all the features were fresh in our minds, and there was an easy escape after the second drop.

Upon seeing the flow, Harry decided to bail. Nat and I tried the first two drops. It was certainly higher than the day before: my first encounter with a waterfall left my nose bleeding. The roundyroundy pool was within these first two drops – who would have thought that our practice the day before would come in handy so soon?

Side-by-side comparison of the same spot in Robinson Creek on the 28th (left) and 29th (right) of December.

After the first two drops, I was buzzing with adrenaline. I convinced Nat to finish the canyon, against Harry’s advice. We got to use some fancy rope techniques in anger, such as a guided rappel and a top-belay to avoid being swept over a spill-over.

The spill-over I very much did not want to get sucked into.

We were borrowing Susan’s rope, and at one point, it got stuck on a pull-down. My first thought was, “Oh no, Susan’s fancy new rope!” My second thought was, “Oh no, we need that rope to get through the canyon.” Nat and I were already brainstorming how we might get out without it. Luckily, I managed to scramble to higher ground and pull it down with the better angle.

Another side-by-side comparison.

We got back to the car alive. The problem-solving was great fun and left me wanting to do Ore Stream more than ever. Maybe Nat had gained some confidence in my white-water skills? So that night, from my tent, I pitched my case to her over text.

“Yeah I’m keen.”

Music to my ears. Or eyes, I guess. To fit it in, we decided to extend our stay at Makarora by a day.

Day 5: Cross Creek (v3a2II*) and Imp Grotto (v4a3II) Canyons – 30/12/2024

Water levels were still a bit high for anything new or challenging the next day, so we started with Cross Creek – the waterpark canyon. Shiva, a friend of Nat’s, happened to be in the area, so she joined us (and unfortunately lost her phone). Sabs was still out, poor dude. He was entertaining himself with a puzzle back at camp.

A couple of photos from Cross Creek. Unfortunately, Nat’s phone died in Robinson the day before, so she borrowed mine to take photos.

Next up was Imp, with just Susan, Nat, Toby, and me. This time, we all resolved to do the 12m jump. Nat and Toby suited up first and wandered off to check it out. Moments later, two big splashes. Guess they weren’t waiting. Fair enough. They’d left both ropes up top in case Susan or I chickened out.

“Can you go first?” Susan asked.

“Sure,” I said gratefully. Less time to psych myself out. I tossed one of the ropes down and jumped. When I resurfaced, I was surprised to see Susan already in the water behind me. Turns out, after saying “Can you go first?” she’d changed her mind to “Actually, I want to go first,” but I hadn’t heard her. So we jumped at almost the same time. In her rush, she didn’t see a submerged log and narrowly avoided both it and me. That could’ve ended worse.

Unfortunately, that left one rope still at the top. According to the topo, there was an escape after the next abseil. Lucky I didn’t leave both ropes for Susan. I zipped down, took the escape, and looped back up while Susan practised rigging a traverse. This time, I abseiled the 12m drop. I re-joined the group just as Susan finished rigging her traverse. That, too, could’ve ended worse. The rest of the canyon went smoothly.

A couple of new Imp Grotto photos.

OK, time to introduce the first of two plights to New Zealand canyoning: didymo (aka rock snot). Didymo is an invasive freshwater alga that has taken over in New Zealand. It can spread from a single cell, and eradicating didymo from a waterway is essentially impossible. Tourists are required to help prevent the spread. KiwiCanyons has a good page on this. For us, this meant soaking our gear in detergent-filled water after every canyon. Given the amount of gear we had, this was quite an effort. It also meant that we’d often be putting on soapy shoes and wetsuits.

A bucket of gear-water-detergent soup (left) and Nat’s soapy shoes (right).

Day 6: Mather Creek Canyon (v4a4III***) – 31/12/2024

On day 6, we finally got to do Mather Creek – and Sabs was joining us! This canyon had the longest walk-in to date, with only a faint track. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, though. The moss ground cover felt like walking on clouds, and all the plants were soft and friendly. Sabs and Susan showed us a plant that Alain had taught them about, which had pepper-tasting leaves! I spent a good hour getting through one leaf – spicy!

Near the beginning of the canyon, there was one drop that the topo labelled as a 6m jump or slide. The slide looked a little bumpy, so I jumped it, being careful with the slippery edge. At the bottom, I turned around just in time to watch Sabs slip and fall sideways down the slide. He was a little battered but mostly OK. Poor dude, this trip wasn’t going very well for him. At least we know the slide goes!

An archway at the end of the canyon that we passed on the walk in (left) and Sabs’ involuntary slide (right).

At one point, Susan got stuck in a recirculation. Nat was the only other person at the bottom of the pitch. Apparently, Susan went around a couple of times, desperately thrashing for air, before Nat managed to throw her a line. That was a bit scary. Not for Susan, though – she’s not fazed by anything.

A collection of photos from Mather Creek Canyon.

OK, you’re probably wondering what the second plight of canyoning in NZ is. The answer is sandflies. And on this day, the bloodthirsty fuckers were out in numbers. Upon arriving at the car, we quickly packed our gear, hopped in, and shut all the doors and windows. There are always a few that get in, though.

That night was New Year’s Eve. We decided to splurge by having dinner at the lodge’s fancy restaurant. We were all in bed well before midnight.

Day 7: Ore Stream Canyon (v4a5IV***) – 1/01/2025

Finally, it was time for Ore Stream. It was just Toby, Nat and I. Harry and Sabs went off to do Robinson, while Susan took a rest day. We checked the water level again on the way in. Despite the recent rain, it was lower than last time. So we went for it.

One of the first obstacles is a downclimb in the flow. This is the spot where three UNSWOC members injured their ankles on three consecutive days, two of them needing an airlift. If you don’t know this story, find someone who can tell it to you.

Two of the abseils had anchors on an out-facing wall that were tricky to get to. In both cases, Toby found a solid spot to sit, and meat-anchor belayed me while I climbed to the bolts. There were also two abseils where the line wanted to pull us into the flow, but the flow was strong enough that that wouldn’t have ended well. I put a lot of faith in my shoes’ grip that day. Overall, the canyon went very smoothly, and it was truly magnificent. The water seemed even clearer and bluer than most Haast canyons. We got back to the road just as Harry and Sabs were driving past on their way back from Robinson.

Some photos from Ore Stream.

That evening, we all took the tourist walk to Fantail Falls. There were an inordinate number of rock piles on the riverbank opposite the falls. We’d also heard about another ‘secret’ waterfall just around the corner. This waterfall was more impressive than Fantail Falls, but also more involved to get to, and I wasn’t quite prepared (I only brought thongs). Of course, we found ourselves discussing whether it was the end of a canyon, and whether it had been descended. A bit of research found that Alain Rohr had done the first descent some years ago. Of course he had.

The stacked rocks (top), the secret falls (bottom left), and me struggling along in my thongs (bottom right).

Day 8: Driving to Glenorchy and Routeburn Canyon (v3a3II)– 2/01/2025

The morning of day eight brought our greatest challenge yet: packing the car. It had been overflowing on the way to Makarora, and that was without Harry or any wet gear. It was time to play Tetris. We packed our bags tightly, laid them out, and began slotting them into every available crevice. When the boot was full, I climbed into the back seat to hold a couple of bags in place while someone else slammed it shut. We’d just have to remember not to stand behind it when we opened it again. Gear got crammed under seats, between legs, anywhere it fit. Somehow, the car ended up feeling more spacious than before. Mission success.

Our campsite near Glenorchy was actually a caravan park with a little patch of grass where we pitched our tents. The scenery was lovely.

The view from our campsite.

While the others cozied up at camp, Nat, Sabs, and I headed out to tackle a short canyon – Routeburn. The sun set at 9:30 pm after all. This canyon was pretty but short, and it paled in comparison to the canyons we had been doing. It was a popular guided trip, apparently. To quote RopeWiki, “There is more metal in this section than a smelter! Bolts everywhere.” The canyon had a fixed guided rappel line and unnecessary handlines lining the walls for a large portion of its length.

A couple of photos from Routeburn. Peak the guided rappel line and fixed handlines (right).

Day 9: Major Mayhem Canyon (v5a3IV***) – 3/01/2025

When we woke up the next morning, it was cold. For summer at least. It had sprinkled the night before, and pushing through wet scrub on the walk into Major Mayhem certainly didn’t help warm us up. I was not keen to don my wet wetsuit, and even less keen to get in the freezing water. I had developed a throbbing headache on the walk in, too.

Aside from being colder, Major Mayhem felt immediately different to the Haast canyons. The water was now murky grey instead of crystal clear. You couldn’t see 20cm through it, which made creekwalking annoying. There were no deep pools either, so the jumps and slides we’d gotten used to were gone. And while Haast had the occasional wide slot, Glenorchy’s canyons were consistently narrow. Spectacular in a totally different way. Shame my headache dulled the experience.

Lots of lovely photos from Major Mayhem.

We then trashed the car on some ford crossings, enjoyed epic panoramas, and decorated our campsite with wet, soapy canyoning gear.

Friday afternoon shenanigans.

“Maybe we shouldn’t hang our gear everywhere,” said I. “What if people want to take photos?” Tourists were frequently coming and going from the campsite.

“I think tourists want our gear in their photos,” said Toby. I expressed my dissent, only to be immediately proven wrong when a passing tourist ignored the stunning views, explicitly to take a photo of our decorative efforts.

With the sun not setting until 9:30, we still had some hours to kill. Unfortunately, a chill wind had picked up, and the sandflies relentless. Nat, Toby, Harry, and I cowered in the car. I taught them a word game called Superghost, and proceeded to lose almost every round. We moved on to Connections, got bored, then watched Toby squash infiltrating sandflies with his feet. Zero survival instincts, those things. Eventually, we braved the swarm for dinner and went to bed before sunset.

Day 10: The General (v5a3VI****) – 4/01/2024

And just like that, our final day of canyoning had arrived. We’d saved a spectacular one for last. Alex Motyka joined us, equipped with bolts in case anything needed replacing. At the trailhead, Toby realised he’d forgotten his shoes. He’s a fast walker, so we set off while he raced back to camp (a 25-minute drive). He had time to catch us, though; the approach involved 650m of elevation gain over 3.5km, all off-track. At the drop-in point, we paused to take a photo that’s since become semi-iconic (I swear it’s not photoshopped! Just don’t zoom in…).

An unobstructed view into the canyon (left), and the photo that has become semi-iconic (right). Goddammit, Toby, why didn’t you wear your UTSOAC Trip Leader shirt?!

Canyon commitment ratings range from I to VI. So yes, The General tops the scale. Once we abseiled in, basically the only way out was through. The canyon’s also very vertical; 36 abseils from where we entered, and technical ones besides. It felt like every single drop had a multi-bolt traverse, redirect, or hanging belay.

But the real challenge was the cold. The water was a frigid 5°C, and we spent 9.5 hours trapped in the deep, dark slot. Spray from the waterfalls, long pauses for the complicated rigging, and the lack of sun made it a strong contender for the coldest I’ve ever been. And I was layered up: 5mm wetsuit, thermal top, beanie, neoprene gloves and socks, rain jacket – the works. Everyone was shivering, and we’d all flock to the occasional stray sunbeam like lizards.

At one point, I waited for ages at an anchor in the deepest, darkest part of the canyon (aptly named “slot of doom”). A particularly large waterfall was blasting me with spray from behind, and there was no dry ground to stand on. I stood on one leg, alternating feet so neither had to be submerged for long. I entertained myself by singing lunatically and thinking warm thoughts.

Nat and I cuddling for warmth like penguins (it worked!).

It was the drop before my waiting place in the slot of doom where the first rope got stuck. Nat had come down last, so it was just her and I. We tried flicking and tugging, but nothing worked. Someone had to ascend.

“Well up you go,” said Nat.

“Me? Why me?!”

“Because you’re cold, and this’ll warm you up.”

Grumble grumble. I couldn’t argue with that logic. So I ascended the 30m pitch, removed the stuck figure-8, and abseiled back down double-strand. I was slightly warmer.

When the next stuck rope happened, I wasn’t particularly partial to ascending again. I eventually convinced Alex to go up. He didn’t want to ascend it straight, though, for fear of swinging into the flow. So I tensioned the rope against the next set of bolts (lucky the drops were so close together!), allowing him to ascend diagonally. This whole ordeal set us back a good chunk of time.

The last stuck rope happened immediately after but was luckily resolved with five minutes of flicking and tugging.

By the time we got to the first reasonable escape (after pitch 27), the group was feeling pretty worn down. We climbed out the side. “The rest of the canyon isn’t particularly worthwhile anyway,” said Alex.

Still, bailing left me feeling a bit off. I turned to Toby. “This doesn’t feel right.” Toby shared my sentiment. So we informed the rest of the group that we were heading back in. Nat joined us. The rest of the canyon went smoothly, and upon reaching the end, I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. What an adventure. I sure was tired, though. We’d been going for 13 hours by this point, and we still had an hour’s walk to the car. RopeWiki sums the situation up nicely:

“Once you reach the end of the Canyon at 620m, you are probably feeling a bit shit… Bashing through the bush back to the entry trail is a bit shit. Boulder bashing down the creek is a bit more shit. The choice is yours.”

Queue the photo montage…

Assorted photos from The General.

And like that, the canyoning was done! We drove back to Queenstown that night, where Alex had generously offered for us to stay in his newly constructed house (the warm shower was very welcome indeed). We grabbed burgers on the way, but there was quite a queue and no space to wait indoors. I was woefully unprepared in shorts, t-shirt and thongs, so Queenstown’s evening chill saw Nat and I penguining once again.

Day 11: Flying Home – 5/01/2025

The next day, we headed to the airport for the flight home. First, though, we needed to return the car. Let’s hope they don’t notice the crack in the bumper…

Overall, it was a fantastic trip with fantastic people. I was sad to be leaving, but I’m not sure my body could have endured many more days of consecutive canyoning anyway.

Us stopping for a mandatory ice-cream at the airport. Toby couldn’t join us as he left to continue his New Zealand adventures…

…but he assured us that he was enjoying a similar icy treat elsewhere.