I lay horizontal as soon as the sun went behind the ridge last night.

It felt like a decent day’s exertion, heading upstream to Fidget Bivvy, 4.5 hours, a lunch stop, and then another 4.5 hours on the way back.

Others may scuttle along faster, but the reality is few bother. The hut book goes back to 2003, and entries are only written on four double pages. 3.5 pages, in fact, and many entries take quite a few lines.

The hut book will not fill for decades. No one turned up, or at least wrote in the book in some years. Being a small bivvy, the accommodation costs are actually quite acceptable: free.

Hunters are often reluctant to acknowledge their stay, but it is clear that Fidget isn’t a popular destination.

Most entries are from contract goat shooters (and their dogs) and mention they get 200 or more goats before leaving.

Only a few familiar entries.

Roger Conroy, who really got around 15 years ago, Dave Pratt and his dog Ellie who likes the cross-country method of tramping, no mucking around, you just go up the tributary of one river and drop over the ridge down to another. And DaveTV, who also enjoys mixing it with matagouri in narrow streams.

I’m happy enough getting my feet wet with numerous crossings of the bigger streams.

As you head north, I noted that the surrounding mountains are considerably higher than those on the way to Palmer Hut that I’d investigated earlier in the year. So, steeper creeks, high mountain cliffs on either side of the stream, big rocks which are double-decker bus-sized in places, and river flats covered in sweet briar, the wild rose and matagouri.

My excursions onto the old cattle tracks in the lower parts of the stream did not result in joy. Instead, my arms are covered in scratches, although my long climbing pants and gaiters protected my legs well enough.

For many, the main issue may be fear of falling rock. A few house-size rock boulders are down in the stream.

Two small lakes shown on the LINZ map have long gone.

Of interest to me were some mature lancewoods rising above the sweet briar.

Overall, too tired to continue writing …

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