Apple sponge and cups of tea - Mackenzie is all about lifestyle

JOHN BISSET/Timaru Herald

MACKENZIE REFLECTIONS: While on the trail of legendary sheep rustler James McKenzie our two journalists, photographer Natasha Martin left, and reporter Fleur Cogle, stop for lunch at the memorial of his capture in the Mackenzie Pass.

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DAY 3: A stone cairn at the bottom of the Mackenzie Pass records in English, Maori and Gaelic the end of the line for James McKenzie's adventure in the high country.

"In this spot James Mackenzie [sic] freebooter, was captured by John Sidebottom and Maoris Taiko and Seventeen and escaped the same night, 4th March 1855."

For us it marked the halfway point of day three as we ventured into the land that McKenzie might never have reached. It also marked the end of our hardest cycling battle so far – the Mackenzie Pass itself.

After a cosy night at Tim and Nicky Guerin's Mt Dalgety Station, where we made use of their shearers' quarters, we aimed to set out early; in time, we hoped, to see the Mackenzie musterers set off for their trek through the high country.

The musterers were expected to pass by the homestead at Mt Dalgety Station at 7am but bad weather delayed their start by two hours. We stuck around in the drizzle.

It was worth the wait as watching the 30 horses and riders come along the road was impressive – another group of people having their own Mackenzie experience.

We parted ways with the musterers just before we reached the pass – they turned a corner and just seemed to disappear, leaving us to tackle the pass for a lonely couple of hours.

There's evidence it wasn't just McKenzie's luck that came a cropper in the pass. A rusted old vehicle embedded in a tree and creek bank raised some questions as we wondered how it got there. Pockmarks on the door and body of the vehicle suggest it is now a favourite spot for target practice for hunters.

It was a hard push to the top of the pass which was dramatically shrouded in mist, hiding how far we had to go. But Tim Guerin's words – that it would be clearer on the other side of the pass – turned out to be true. The drizzle cleared and a strong tailwind pushed us down the hill toward the memorial. At the Haldon Rd intersection we turned left, giving us a chance to look at the land that McKenzie might have made his escape through – if he had had the chance.

We were fortunate to be invited into a house at Carraghmore, where Noel Tait has a base for his pest control business. The business has a contract with the Animal Health Board to carry out possum and ferret control to prevent the spread of tuberculosis. Mr Tait had a team of six living at the house, which was filled with the smell of baking when we entered.

One of the team, Angus McLeod, had been baking an apple sponge cake for dinner.

Life here was good, the men said. "It's more a lifestyle" were Mr Tait's words.

The team came out for 14- or 15-day stretches, several months a year.

Mr McLeod, who has a long farming background, has a family connection to the land: his father spent a lot of time mustering in the high country.

While he hadn't thought a lot about the McKenzie legend, his father had passed down his own version of what happened to McKenzie's dog.

"The dog died on his grave; there was nothing they could do for it. It just pined away." Mr McLeod said he believed a good dog – as McKenzie's Friday was alleged to be – could control a mob of 1000 sheep.

When not ferreting or setting traps, he has another entertainment in Mackenzie Country – rabbiting at night. "If you're in a good place, you can get up to 60, 70, 80." The carcasses made good dog food, he said.

After a reviving cup of coffee with the pair , and a bumpy trip further down Haldon Rd, two guides – William, 8, and Jock Urquhart, 6, met us on their bikes to show us the way to Greys Hills, our stop last night.

- © Fairfax NZ News