Archive for month: August, 2026

It might seem odd. If you’re not going on a climbing, mountaineering, canyoning, or caving trip, then why would you take a helmet?

by Rob Frost

I know people who’ve been airlifted out of the hills on a tramping trip because they’ve been following a river for hours and hours on slippery boulders. They’ve fallen over and hit their head against a rock and unfortunately sustained a head injury. It happens easily.

Many adventurous tramping trips involve other types of sustained rocky terrain, or confined scree gullies with rockfall. Just because you’re “only tramping”, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t consider a helmet.

So, I highly encourage you to take one of these if you’re considering such a trip. Many helmets out there weigh so little that you practically forget that you’re wearing one. I particularly like the Petzl Sirocco but there are similar helmets by other brands, too. Try different brands to see which one suits the shape of your head best.

Please don’t misconstrue this advice as though I’m advocating wearing helmets all the time. Chucking them on everywhere just to be “safe” leads you into the trap of not properly considering where areas of heightened risk really are.

Make sure that you carry your helmet inside your pack if you’re not wearing it. Attaching it to the outside is just asking for it to be damaged.

Practically every tramping or hiking gear list mentions “gaiters” but there are so many different types out there – how do you choose the right ones? And do you really need them at all?

by Rob Frost

WHY USE GAITERS?

Primarily, gaiters keep stuff out of your boot. In most cases we’re talking about scree/loose rocks and snow. If your gaiter has a really snug fit on your boot and you’re quick, they’ll often keep most of the water out for a shallow stream crossing, too.

Gaiters have a few useful secondary functions: they can stop both mud and clingy vegetation like hook grass and biddy bids from sticking to your socks, laces, and boot uppers; they can constrain baggy trousers when it’s a safety issue (if you’re wearing crampons and you don’t want them to snag); and they can protect your lower legs from scratchy vegetation and from wind in poor weather.

If none of the above are an issue on your trip, or you only have very brief sections of loose rock or snow, you don’t need gaiters. I’d argue that you can get away just fine without gaiters on New Zealand’s popular tracks. For more rugged trails, and certainly for off-track tramping or mountaineering, gaiters will be a friend. A good friend if you follow this advice…

SIZE

Traditional advice tells you to fit the gaiter to your boot size. While this seems logical, you could end up with a gaiter that’s too floppy or too tight on your calves. Tight gaiters are uncomfortable; floppy gaiters snag and/or fall down.

So, fit the gaiter according to the size of your calf. Even a small gaiter (for skinny legs) can still fit over the top of a big boot. Just make sure the strap underneath is long enough, since the gaiter may sit higher than intended.

SNOW

If you’re intending to use your gaiters to help you deal with snow, there are a few important requirements to look for. Snow is really good at forcing its way inside your gaiter if you don’t have a very firm fit. Make sure the gaiter sits smoothly and cleanly against your boot; it should be difficult to get more than a couple of fingertips under the lower edge of the gaiter.

You must use the underfoot strap to stop the gaiter being forced up by the snow.

Crampons should have minimal things they can catch on mid-stride, so your gaiters should have no bunched fabric (no elastic halfway up) and no long cord dangling from the top.

Velcro closures at the front of your gaiters are a handy place to stow away excessively long crampon straps, too.

STRAPS

See this video on our Instagram page for more info on gaiter straps.

Make sure the strap is replaceable – I’ve been forced to stop using otherwise excellent gaiters simply because of poor strap design with no option for replacement.

I tend to avoid the third party steel cable straps because they fray as they wear out, resulting in lots of sharp loose cable ends. If you do go for those, avoid the key-ring style attachments, they’re a joke. By the end of their first trip they will have snagged and become stretched and misshapen.

If you’re using your own cord, go for 3mm or 4mm spectra/dyneema cord, available from boating shops.

NO SNOW

If you’re not travelling in snow, an underfoot strap is nice to help hold the gaiter’s shape, but it isn’t essential. You can get away without a strap if (a) you’ve got high ankle boots; and (b) a low-fitting gaiter; and (c) you’re not travelling in snow. In that case, the lace hook should be all you need to keep the gaiter in position.

TROUSERS IN OR OUT?

If your priority is to keep water out of your boots during rain, then keep your waterproof trousers on the outside. If your priority is to protect the bottom of your trousers from scuffs, or to keep any trousers constrained so that your crampons don’t snag, then tuck them inside your gaiters.

HIGH vs LOW

If you don’t need to keep baggy trousers contained when using crampons, and you don’t need protection from scratchy vegetation, then short gaiters (aka puttees) can be excellent. The trick is to also have a really good seal at the top, because it’s more likely that stones or snow could overtop a short gaiter. Such a fit is hard to achieve without stretchy fabric, and stretchy fabric usually isn’t as durable.

FAVOURITES

My favourite gaiters I’ve ever owned were a pair made by OR which I bought in 2010. They were a low height, and a slightly stretchy, fairly tough fabric. When I was in Nepal I found a local tailor to take them in at the top so that they fit snugly around my skinny legs. After that they kept out everything, including leeches! A year later, one of the straps finally detached at one end, and that was that. I’ve been seeking something similar ever since, but to no avail. Hopefully I’ll find the perfect gaiter before I retire!

This article is written to help you decide when might be the best time for a trip in New Zealand’s mountains. (Spoiler – There is no ‘best time’ – it depends on your specific trip objectives.)

Daylight hours

For a roughly two month period around the winter solstice (21 June), you’ve only got about nine hours of usable daylight, or about eight hours in the deep south like Fiordland. This is great if you’re here for astro-photography (the best region of the Milky Way is visible during the southern winter) but a little challenging otherwise.

For December and most of January, it’s light from about 5:30 in the morning until about 9:30 in the evening, so there’s more than enough time for relaxing at camp after an active day. March (autumn) and September (spring) provide 12-13 hours of daylight, much like the rest of the world.

Precipitation

There is no such thing as a rainy season or dry season in Aotearoa. Everyone has their own generalisations, like “La Niña brings fine weather in November”; “It’s usually dry on the west coast during midwinter”; “There’s less precipitation in autumn”; “There’s more rain in spring”; “Always wait until mid-Spring for the biggest dump of snow”… Unfortunately there are notable exceptions to all of these, and none of them can be relied on. Rain can sometimes last more than five days in a row, then after you’ve had one clear day it rains again for another five days; conversely you could have three weeks of almost perfect weather. Plan for everything.

It’s unusual for all of the Southern Alps / Ka Tiritiri o te Moana to receive bad weather simultaneously for more than a day or two. This means that if you’re willing to do some driving, you can usually find a trip location with some good weather no matter what the weather is doing.

Temperatures

The main rule is that in any given week, at any time of year, temperatures can fluctuate wildly and you need to be prepared for a huge range of conditions.

January and February are typically the warmest months, when it can be over 25 degrees C on a fine day even above the bushline. However, rain and wind combined with single digit temperatures can still occur. Evenings and nights are usually cool, and if a southerly is blowing a warm sleeping bag is welcome for high campsites. Down below the bushline a lightweight sleeping bag is adequate, especially if you’re staying in huts. For a month or so either side of those months (i.e. December and March) things aren’t too much cooler.

Mid-April is usually when you notice things starting to really cool down. May is distinctly colder again but fine days can still be comfortable wearing one layer in the afternoon. Winter (June to August) is simply cold: it’s possible to have days that never get above freezing. Temperatures slowly but steadily increase from September to December with no major thresholds.

Snowfall and Snow Cover

You may be tired of hearing “it’s variable” but nowhere is that more relevant than when discussing snow. Above the bushline, summer snowfalls are not common but do rarely occur. In general if you’re below 2000m, it’s unusual to have any significant snowfall before mid April. Thick dustings of snow do occur during late April and May, often down to the bushline and creating a lovely visual texture on the mountains, but these usually melt away within a week or so. June is known as a cursed month in the snowsports world – monster snowfalls raise optimism about the ski season ahead, but this is often followed by weeks of warm or dry conditions. By the time more snow arrives, practically nothing is left and we’re starting from scratch again.

Continual snow cover above mid altitudes (around 1500m) is usually pretty reliable from mid-July through until late September – that date range is the most reliable for skiing and snowboarding. Large areas of snow – enough for adventurous ski touring – can stick around longer, sometimes until early December, especially in gullies and on south-facing slopes. Higher areas (above 1800m) can even hold significant snow through January. February, March, and early April have the least amount of snow in the hills. On glaciers, crevasses become more and more exposed as summer progresses. Things are usually pretty “filled” in December and very broken by late March. In summary: if you’d like a warm trip but also some fun in the snow, December and early January are the best.

A snowline camp near Arthurs Pass in late October.

River Levels

If your trip involves crossing rivers, you’re probably already aware that rainfall will have a significant impact on them. Most rivers will need a day or two to return to “normal” flows after a storm has passed. Those “normal” flows fluctuate significantly from season to season. Snow on the ground plus warm temperatures equals lots of melting, therefore rivers are generally at their highest during spring. Crossings can be difficult or impossible even if it hasn’t rained in days, and spring storms can result in monster river flows due to both heavy rain and rapid snow melting. Conversely, most rivers experience their lowest flows from late autumn to mid-winter, as much of the precipitation is falling as snow which isn’t melting quickly.

In summary there will generally be the biggest range of trip options available during late summer and autumn since the rivers are less of an obstacle then.

Lambing

If you need access through private farmland, be aware that a lot of animals are being born from mid/late winter to late spring/early summer. Many tracks are closed during this time – find out in advance so you don’t get an unpleasant surprise at the start of your trip.