I have very much enjoyed these last few days, spent in relative solitude at Fern Burn Hut. Not much changed, since last time I wrote, except perhaps myself. I have grown more comfortable, more content with myself, with my lot in life, with being alone in nature.
I got 'home' rather late on the 12th, having delayed leaving town to try and skype with my parents (unsuccessfully) and waiting for my iPad to recharge. Luckily, the woman who picked me up on the outskirts of town took pity on me and drove me all the way to the trailhead so that I could make it to the hut before nightfall. And a good thing she did, too! I thought, if I didn't make it, I could sling up my hammock and sleep on the trail, but it snowed that night and I was very happy to have made it to a more substantial shelter.
The snow was beautiful, and suited to my quiet mood. One of the things I've loved most about staying in one place is getting to know the moods of my surroundings, the quiet cold, the cotton candy pink clouds of sunrise, dusk settling around me. I do wish there was a woodstove, though, and often spent my entire day bundled in several layers, including hat and gloves.
One day, a family visited the hut on a day hike - Jeff, the dad, and his boys Jay and Drew. Drew was doing a semester abroad in Christchurch and his dad and brother had visited for the Easter Holiday break. It was great spending time with a family, even one not my own, to be part, for a few hours, of the easy teasing and laughter, the obviously familiar jokes, and the sense of comfort and belonging. We shared lunch which, with our combined efforts, included tortillas and hummas, sausage, cheese and apples. Not extravagant, but quite tasty.
Another visitor to my hit was a 30 year old Israeli guy who made us coffee. "In the Middle East, this is how you say 'hello'", he said. And it was the best coffee I'd had in some time, black Turkish gold. Mmmm.
Yesterday, the 16th, I went on a nice hike, aiming to make it to the next hut, Highland Creek. I got waylaid by a tempting mountain, though, and having followed the trail to the saddle decided to go off trail to the mountain peak, where I ate lunch. It was spectacular, views in all directions, snow slowly melting in the early afternoon sun. Deciding it wasn't going to get any better, I returned to my hut and took advantage of the warmth of an unclouded day to take a bath. By 'bath', I mean that I used a bucket of sun-warmed (but still pretty cold) water and a bandana to clean myself, then lay naked in the grass until I dried. It was heavenly; you never feel quite so clean, even if the feeling isn't entirely true, as when you've bathed in cold water and lay in the sun after a day's hike.
Tomorrow, I return to my hut merely to collect the belongings I left there. I expected to spend a few more days relaxing, waiting for Bethany, but apparently she got snowed off the trail and is already waiting for me in Queenstown.
I got 'home' rather late on the 12th, having delayed leaving town to try and skype with my parents (unsuccessfully) and waiting for my iPad to recharge. Luckily, the woman who picked me up on the outskirts of town took pity on me and drove me all the way to the trailhead so that I could make it to the hut before nightfall. And a good thing she did, too! I thought, if I didn't make it, I could sling up my hammock and sleep on the trail, but it snowed that night and I was very happy to have made it to a more substantial shelter.
The snow was beautiful, and suited to my quiet mood. One of the things I've loved most about staying in one place is getting to know the moods of my surroundings, the quiet cold, the cotton candy pink clouds of sunrise, dusk settling around me. I do wish there was a woodstove, though, and often spent my entire day bundled in several layers, including hat and gloves.
One day, a family visited the hut on a day hike - Jeff, the dad, and his boys Jay and Drew. Drew was doing a semester abroad in Christchurch and his dad and brother had visited for the Easter Holiday break. It was great spending time with a family, even one not my own, to be part, for a few hours, of the easy teasing and laughter, the obviously familiar jokes, and the sense of comfort and belonging. We shared lunch which, with our combined efforts, included tortillas and hummas, sausage, cheese and apples. Not extravagant, but quite tasty.
Another visitor to my hit was a 30 year old Israeli guy who made us coffee. "In the Middle East, this is how you say 'hello'", he said. And it was the best coffee I'd had in some time, black Turkish gold. Mmmm.
Yesterday, the 16th, I went on a nice hike, aiming to make it to the next hut, Highland Creek. I got waylaid by a tempting mountain, though, and having followed the trail to the saddle decided to go off trail to the mountain peak, where I ate lunch. It was spectacular, views in all directions, snow slowly melting in the early afternoon sun. Deciding it wasn't going to get any better, I returned to my hut and took advantage of the warmth of an unclouded day to take a bath. By 'bath', I mean that I used a bucket of sun-warmed (but still pretty cold) water and a bandana to clean myself, then lay naked in the grass until I dried. It was heavenly; you never feel quite so clean, even if the feeling isn't entirely true, as when you've bathed in cold water and lay in the sun after a day's hike.
Tomorrow, I return to my hut merely to collect the belongings I left there. I expected to spend a few more days relaxing, waiting for Bethany, but apparently she got snowed off the trail and is already waiting for me in Queenstown.
Ugh. I don't know why half the pictures are upside down, but there does 't seem to be much I can do about it. Maybe toucan stand on your hear to see them...