New Zealand Hut Heroes: Profile of Shaun Barnett
(Note: this is part of the larger work New Zealand Huts: Notes towards a Country Study)
By far my best idea when planning a three month study tour of New Zealand huts was to read Shelter from the Storm and contact the authors. All three members of this Dream Team (Rob Brown, Robbie Burton, Geoff Spearpoint) were helpful, but Shaun’s thoughtful and generous email exchanges were spot on in guiding me on who to talk with and where to go (i.e. what huts to visit!). Finally meeting him in person — over a delightful four-hour lunch at his home in Wellington — was a highlight of our trip. A gracious host and a wellspring of knowledge, there was so much to talk about! Our rambling conversation helped me process lessons learned in my first month of tramping, and sharpened my focus, methods and questions going forward. His advice on part two of our journey targeted my interests, expanded my horizons, and significantly advances my learning curve. Wow! I hit the jackpot by meeting New Zealand’s “go-to guy” for studying huts and tramping!
Shaun Barnett at summit of Mt Pureora, Pureora FP, King Country, 29 Dec 2017, courtesy Shaun Barnett
My experience of learning from Shaun is a small example of the many and various contributions he has made to national and global understanding of tramping and huts in relation to Kiwi history of culture. Through his six books and over 800 articles, he has tirelessly walked the walks, read the history, had long conversations with all the key players, and presented it all with clarity and style. As editor of Wilderness from 1999-2003 (and presently as ‘Roving Editor’), and since 2008 has served as editor of Backcountry, the journal of the Federated Mountain Clubs (FMC), he has helped to inform and shape the way a nation sees its natural and recreational landscape. As a keen reader and prolific book reviewer, he is on a personal crusade to enliven and uplift NZ book culture. As a photographer, he sells his work, does commissions, teaches workshops and organizes the FMC photography contest. As a creative professional he is skilled, hardworking, prolific and generous. As a result he is known as one of the few Kiwis able to actually make a living from his outdoors-related writing and photography.
Shaun is currently completing, with co-author Chris McClean, a book commissioned to celebrate the 2019 centenary of the Taurarua Tramping Club, the oldest in New Zealand. He is also working on a novel for children and of course, a continuous stream of articles and book reviews. Following are three pieces about Shaun:
- an interview, included here with permission, in which Shaun wrote his responses to a series of questions he was posed about his life and work;
- an excerpt from an article from Backpacker magazine which underscores his role as a go-to guy for NZ huts; and finally
- a brief author bio.
Together these pieces give a fuller sense of this remarkable “hut hero” than I could on my own. — Sam, September 2018
Endeavour and Adventure
An interview with Shaun Barnett
For almost 20 years Shaun Barnett has made his living from writing and photographing New Zealand’s wild places, a career built on his own love of the bush and mountains. He has written best-selling tramping guides, an introduction to New Zealand’s natural history and, together with Rob Brown and Geoff Spearpoint, a history of backcountry huts.
We asked him a few questions about a life spent outdoors.
How did you get started in tramping?
I did my first tramp in 1983, into the Ruahine Range, with a high-school friend, Michael Bennett, and his father, Arthur. We only walked 30 minutes or so into Triplex Hut, but I loved being there overnight, and wondered where the tracks beyond the hut led to. The following year another school friend, Daryl Ball, invited me on a youth group tramp to Kaweka Flats. It was a frosty winter night, and I remember sitting around the sparking fire underneath the Milky Way, yakking about life, the universe and everything. We were camped out under a large tent fly, and Daryl couldn’t find his sleeping bag, which meant he had a pretty shivery fitful sleep. In the morning, much to everyone’s hilarity, we found another guy had been accidently using it for his pillow. However, an Outdoor Pursuits Centre course in my sixth form year (1985) was probably the key moment when I decided that I wanted to lead an outdoor life, and began regular tramping with a few like-minded friends.
Being inexperienced, we made lots of mistakes, sometimes really fundamental stuff. Like being over-ambitious on how far we could get in a weekend, going terribly under-equipped, and at times not having much safety margin. But we learnt fast. Getting caught out in winter with no shelter, no sleeping mat, no billy or burner (all Kaweka Huts had billys then, and we always cooked on the wood stove) was one of those learning experiences. On another occasion, we learnt that pumping up your tyre tubes before getting to the river was not a great idea. We’d thought we’d been smart by avoiding the need to carry a pump, but on the tramp in the tyres got caught between the trees, and only half of them stayed inflated. Plans to tube down the river had to be shelved.
Writing can be a difficult way of paying the bills in New Zealand, yet I understand you’ve been doing it fulltime for over a decade now. Can you tell us about the decision to quit the day job to work fulltime as an outdoors writer and photographer?
For several years in the early to mid-1990s, I worked for the Department of Conservation, firstly doing fur seal and kiwi surveys on the West Coast, then doing possum control in the Waikato. At the same time, I’d begun selling a few photographs to Craig Potton Publishing calendars, Macpac catalogues and also had a few pictures accepted into Colin Monteath’s Hedgehog House photo library. By 1996, this has turned into a small but regular extra income to supplement my modest DOC salary. I had plans to travel with my partner (now wife) Tania, but when she got her first full-time job, we decided to delay the trip for a year. I’d had enough of killing possums, and was finding it too hard to manage full-time work as well as my other interests, so decided to use some of my savings to take a year off to develop my photography and writing.
It was a naïve and possibly foolhardy decision; I had no idea how hard it would be, but really at the time I had nothing to lose. We lived very inexpensively, flatting with others in Hamilton; I had some savings, and on the strength of having two articles accepted for publication, decided I’d become a full-time writer/photographer. One of these was a tramping article for Wilderness, and the other one I co-wrote with a DOC colleague on kaka for New Zealand Geographic.
After spending eight months travelling in Alaska, Canada and South America in 1997/98, we returned to New Zealand, where Tania got a job in Wellington. We’ve lived here ever since, sharing roles working and, since 2001, parenting. Being self-employed, and working from home means good flexibility (with the exception of deadlines) so I’ve been able to adjust my work from part-time to full-time as need arises to fit in with Tania’s work and the arrival of our three children (Tom, Lee and Lexi).
Altogether, I’ve been lucky enough to scrape together an OK living out of it, helped by a few lucky breaks such as getting offered the job to edit Wilderness in late 1999 (which I did for 42 issues) and writing my first book, with Rob Brown, that same year. Classic Tramping was Rob’s inspired idea, following on from Craig Potton’s successful Classic Walks. After a stint working at Macpac, Rob was by then a sales rep for Craig Potton Publishing, and it was also him who also came up with the idea for North Island Weekend Tramps. Rob and I have shared many projects and it’s been a highly rewarding and creative friendship. We did a lot of tramping together in the mid-1990s, including to some wild, little-known places like Ivory Lake, Ice Lake and the Dragon’s Teeth. Despite doing similar work, we’ve always tended towards a co-operative model rather than a competitive one.
Financially, it’s been a struggle at times, but I’ve only thought about quitting once in 18 years, when New Zealand Geographic went bust (temporarily as it turned out), owing me $5000 for a story I’d spent weeks on. The liquidators took 99% of the money they could squeeze out, leaving nothing for the printer and contributors like me. This came on top of a repeat situation with Geo Australasia for about $1500. As this money was a significant part of my income that year, it was the low-point in my career. But Rob Brown and Colin Monteath sent me a package stuffed full of film with a card telling me keep at it. It was one of kindest and most encouraging things they could have done.
I get paid to edit the Federated Mountain Club’s quarterly Bulletin, which is a regular source of income, then there are articles for newspapers and magazine, plus book royalties and photo library sales. You have to be diverse.
You’ve been involved in some books about New Zealand’s tramping and outdoor heritage such as Shelter from the Storm about backcountry huts. Can you tell us why you think it’s important to document this side of the outdoors?
I think the most important thing about Shelter from the Storm was that it placed our huts in a national context. You can’t fully understand what is important, from a historical point of view, without a national overview. Lots of people within DOC have great regional knowledge, leading to some fantastic restoration work, but it’s not often someone has taken a bigger perspective. For example, we identified that the tent camp in the Cobb Valley was one of the very few remaining in the country, with the somewhat provocative caption that it badly needed restoration. Since then, a great DOC ranger from Golden Bay, John Taylor, has been planning full restoration of the tent camp. The thing about huts is that are living, working examples of our backcountry heritage, they harbour so many of the great stories of past endeavour and adventure – as well as providing ongoing shelter to current generations of trampers, mountaineers, hunters and fishers.
When I first starting tramping I was largely ignorant of the history of the places I went to; like many young men I yearned simply for physical challenges, adventure and the comradeship of being in the hills with like-minded people. Now, I find my experiences deeply enriched by knowing some of the history. That’s a big motivation for recording stories in books like Shelter.
The tramping history I’m currently working on with Chris Maclean has given us opportunity to celebrate the pioneering efforts of people like Arthur Harper, Norman Elder, Mavis Davidson, Willie Field, Fred Vosseler and Les Molloy, all of whom shaped tramping’s development in the 20th century.
You’ve also been doing research for the TV show, First Crossings. How did you go about researching that? Do you have any interesting anecdotes or stories to share from this?
Again, this is another thing that Rob Brown got me involved in. Rob was approached by Eyeworks director Greg Bramwell, who wanted to do a ‘Reality’ TV show on New Zealand adventures, but one with a bit more depth than usual: one that told of historic adventures and showed off the country’s wilder places. Jamie Fitzgerald and Kevin Biggar got the role of presenters with their background as adventurers. Rob called in a great group of people including Geoff Spearpoint, Phil Penney, Olly Clifton and Mark Watson to work as guides, and used Geoff and I as a sounding board for story ideas. My direct involvement has been with four of the more than 20 episodes; on the 1919 Motu River descent, as fixer for an episode about the 1933 Sutch Search in the Tararuas, and recently on two nineteenth century shipwrecks in the subantarctic Auckland Islands.
We’ve been incredibly lucky with weather and conditions for most of the episodes, and at times it even felt like Huey was playing the game so we could tell these stories. For example, when filming in the Tararuas last November, we had brilliantly fine weather for filming the part about the Sutch party’s tramp over the tops, but when we were later that afternoon filming a scene about traversing the Broken Axe Pinnacles, the weather turned suddenly, with hail, heavy rain and dropping temperatures – which was an almost perfect parallel to that experienced by the original Sutch party. By tracing their route, and examining their decisions, we were able to refute many of those who made unjustified criticisms against them in the 1930s. They did incredibly well to survive their two-week ordeal in the Waiohine River gorges, but the fact they made the first traverse down the river got lost in the controversy over the search. Never have I learned more forcefully that you have to understand the landscape to understand what a tramping or climbing party went through.
You’ve also written a number of tramping guides. What’s your favourite track or part of the country?
If I had to name my tramping turangawaewae, there would be three: the Kaweka and Ruahine Ranges, where I first fell in love with the bush and mountains, and the backcountry of Nelson, where I lived for several summers, and have spent countless other holidays. But then again, I love Tongariro, Rakiura, the West Coast, the Aspiring country and Whirinaki/Te Urewera. Almost impossible to name a favourite trail, but perhaps the good old Orongorongo Track, for its wonderfully diverse bush, and the fact it’s been a place I’ve done so much tramping with Tania and the kids.
I understand you’re now working on a history of tramping in New Zealand. Can you tell us a bit about that?
Chris Maclean and I have finished the text, which has been edited and are now at the exciting phase of design and photograph selection. It’s due out late this year. Both of us were surprised at what a huge topic it was, partly as we’ve taken a very broad view, delving back into the nineteenth century to see how Maori, surveyors, explorers and prospectors laid the groundwork for what would become twentieth century tramping practices and tracks. Historian friends Graham Langton and Jock Phillips have been hugely helpful.
Researching it has been fascinating, but it was a real challenge to weave a strong narrative through such a great span of decades and topics. We were overwhelmed at times by the depth of material, and had to leave lots of things out, but we’re confident we’ve produced a very readable history that should have wide appeal. Trampers have contributed a great deal to New Zealand culture, ranging from mapping to exploring, hut-building and track-cutting, fighting for the establishment of national parks and also acting as watchdogs against exploiting our wild places. We trampers should be proud of this heritage, and celebrate the way it has evolved into a distinctive sub-culture of New Zealand.
Any ideas what the next project down the track might be?Medium-term: I’m halfway through a history of forest parks, which has been on the back-burner while working on Shelter and the tramping history. Long-term: I have a few other books planned, including one about traversing the Southern Alps. I’ve also been working on a children’s novel, set in a futuristic Wellington. Writing fiction has been wonderfully liberating; it’s just me and the keyboard, not boxes of research notes and piles of books and pernickety pedants teetering over my subconscious.
Excerpt from December 2014 Backpacker article ‘Hike to the Best Backcountry Hut in the World” by Rachel Zurer, a former editor of Backpacker Magazine.
[This excerpt from an article about Zurer’s tramp to Ivory Lake Hut is included because it provides a nice glimpse into Shaun’s role as an expert on NT tramping and huts, and his style in representing huts and tramping to those who are interested. He is unfailingly open and helpful, objective in his views, broadly knowledgeable, and generous with his time. In essence, he is the “go-to guy” to learn about huts in NZ. ]
But I didn’t just want to visit a good hut: I wanted the best. That meant a postcard-worthy, breathtaking setting; a cozy, intimate shelter with a rich history (nothing decrepit, sterile, or brand-new); and a realistic chance at solitude. Oh, and the hike in had to be worth doing on its own.
I read tramping forums, talked to the editor of New Zealand’s Wilderness magazine, and contacted Shaun Barnett, the author of several tramping guides and a book about the history of the huts. I heard about Syme Hut, in Egmont National Park on the North Island, perched on the flanks of a dormant volcano with views of the sea. And I had a fleeting interest in the Barker Hut, in Arthur’s Pass National Park on the South Island, when I saw a photo of it looking like a little red schoolhouse just below a towering peak. But only one kept recurring everywhere I looked: Ivory Lake Hut.
“One of the coolest hut locations,” Barnett said. “It’s perched on the shore of a small lake beneath a remnant glacier in the heart of the remote and rugged West Coast mountains on the South Island.” Others called it a “holy grail.” I learned it was built in the 1970s to help scientists study the small glacier nearby, and a decade’s worth of researchers had added countless personal touches during their summers there. But as soon as I set my sights on getting there, everyone else set theirs on talking me out of it. “I don’t think that Ivory Lake Hut is a good idea—it is too difficult an objective,” said a different guidebook author I contacted. The tourism bureau thought it “not advisable.”
Even Barnett backpedaled in an email: “I can’t emphasize enough how tough the terrain is, and how much travel in the area is weather-dependent. Even for experienced trekkers, it can be as slow as 1 kilometer per hour and side creeks can easily become impossible to cross during rain. In a few places, you might have to crawl.”
“Consider me warned,” I wrote back. Sure, the trek sounded like a potential slugfest, but not scary or obviously dangerous. I did have one question, though: “Is it really worth the torture?” Barnett’s reply sealed my resolve: “Yep … it’s one way cool place. If I haven’t put you off … go for it!”
Shaun Barnett: an author blurb about Shaun, providing basic bio information:
Shaun Barnett developed a passion for mountains and tramping as a teenager living in Hawke’s Bay. Since then he’s tramped throughout New Zealand and also in Australia, South America, Canada, Nepal, the UK, Ireland, Italy, Iceland and Alaska. As full-time writer and photographer since 1996, he has written over 1000 articles for newspapers and magazines both in New Zealand and overseas. Between December 1999 and May 2003, he was the editor of Wilderness magazine, and is the current editor of the Federated Mountain Club’s Bulletin.
He’s written several tramping guidebooks including Classic Tramping in New Zealand (co-authored with Rob Brown), which won a Montana Book Award for the Environment category. More recently, he’s co-authored Shelter from the Storm, The Story of New Zealand’s Backcountry Huts, which won the New Zealand Post Booksellers Award in 2013. Tramping, A New Zealand History, co-authored with Chris Maclean, was long-listed for the New Zealand book awards. His most recent book is A Bunk for the Night, A Guide to New Zealand’s Best Backcountry Huts (2016) with Rob Brown and Geoff Spearpoint.
Shaun lives in Wellington with his wife Tania, and children Tom, Lee and Alexi.