Alone overnight in a small mountain hut with its earthen floor and rustic charm, I was living like an Alaskan on a reality TV show, I thought. Just me versus nature. Nobody to talk to but myself. Luckily I like who I am and I’m comfortable being by myself.
I followed the easy trail from the hut uphill for several hours over rolling grassy hills to the summit of Brest hill. Gentle rolling hills on one side gave way to steep rugged cliffs and steep drops on the other. Over a vertical kilometer below lay Lake Hawea.
I stood on the summit. My eyes were drawn to the distant mountains. Many years ago I was hiking in those distant mountains on my previous trip to New Zealand. It felt like only yesterday but was in fact 1996. My fondest and clearest memories have been of hiking or traveling trips. I guess the mind remembers the things we are passionate about.
The trail from the summit followed a long spinney ridge before descending a short sharp ridge. It was one of those descents that would take about the same amount of time going up or going down. It was steep in sections.
10am photo below
It was 3pm when I made my way to the village of Lake Hawea. I planned to stay the night to rest, shower and do laundry. After a burger and milkshake I decided to just keep on hiking. Despite being a tough day my energy and endurance had not been tested. I’m turning into something freaky. I dont think I’ve ever had as much energy and endurance as I have right now. I feel like I could compete in an endurance race or similar and I wouldn’t embarrass myself.