Better described as exhausted as I failed to eat a cooked meal last night, instead just snacked in my sleeping bag, and crashed out early.
My intention was to head down the Baton River to the road end, but after listening to the 6 am news and continuing fine weather report, decided on doing nothing much for the day and went back to sleep.
Yeah, exhausted covers it.
My eighth night on my lonesome in a hut. Yes, that’s all of them.
I had plenty of time to think of my options.
The obvious Option A was to continue down the Baton River track, crossing a few times, getting to the road end and smashing out the 25 km down to the Graham River Road, and the long climb up to the Flora Saddle car park. That would need a ride at least part of the way to be done in a day, as many hut entries are negative about the overgrown/windfall nature of their experience on the track. Six hours, eight hours, five hours, etc.
Option B was to return to the Leslie River, and spend the night camping at the swingbridge, a lovely spot, or struggling up to Splugeons Rock Shelter, then walking out the next day. But it seems somewhat insane to desire to go through yesterday again, although this time it would be in the downward direction.
My mind wants Option B, but my body wants neither. It wants to be home already, eating some fresh food, and pottering in the garden.
Whatever I think now, it will be at 6 am tomorrow morning when decision time is actually required. In the meantime, it was a super leisurely day. A book to read, and a body to recharge.
Eating dinner in the light of my head torch after a day of reading a novel, it appeared my body had already made the decision. Leave early, point myself downwards, and hope for some friendly traffic on a Friday on a dead-end road. Then for someone to be wanting to go up to the Flora Saddle car park late on Friday.
You never know, but if I am required to walk all the way, it would be the longest day tramping in my recorded history, ie, the last four years.