The run of excellent tramping/camping weather continued. Hazy sky, but no rain on the way.
My boots were 80% dried, but not yet to the cardboard state.
With a decent day on offer, a climb seemed the best option. I might achieve some views as elevation gives a much better perspective.
If people can do it as a day trip, ie, both ways, albeit carrying little, I should be able to get through okay. It’s around 7 km A to B to get to Warden Hut, but my route will be more wiggly. Maybe some easier stretches, although I have to get back on that.
The key was getting out of Limestone Stream, and I supposed the part of dropping down into Cold Stream where the wild roses would be at their thickest. Finding old animal tracks would be useful.
I climbed up the old fenceline on the other side of the stream, progressing through the scrub in the parts where the fence had gone the way of the slip on the other side. Flax was useful to drag me up, but the dead leaves were super slippery.
It seemed the most obvious route as I climbed, but it was a full arm wrestle for a while. My arms felt drained by the time I popped out onto the Hieracium for some much easier going.
The peak was 1615 m, although I avoided that, although some downhill was required on the way up, so the climb totalled about 1000 m.
It was certainly an amazing view.
At the top, I encountered 18 goats that sidled off around a little peak. I imagined I could do the same, but eventually found myself in the long gut to avoid bluffs and failed to climb out when the somewhat sketchy opportunity presented itself.
This was a bad move, and instead, I followed the stream.
My route had some good points. I saw two stags, one a spiker that walked past about 20 m away, and another with proper antlers that watched me for a while, then ran straight up the hill.
More goats, but they seem to be eight of the original bunch. Then three of the cutest goat kids perched on a ledge that couldn’t follow their gymnastic mother.
I spent the afternoon with quite a few waterfalls to climb around, interspersed with some easy walking, but I didn’t make it to Warden Hut.
For a while, I thrashed around in some lawyer-strewn shrubbery that slashed my arms up fairly severely and, at that stage, starting to feel the energy expenditure, decided that that little spot between two waterfalls was the best place to park myself for the night.
So I wrapped up in a slightly flat space with no room for my tent. I slept on it, unconcerned due to the warm summer evening.
Quite a day.
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