Seven of us in Sabine Hut. I was up first, having no idea of the time, but it was light enough.
The lake was a mirror, and while low mist wrapped the tops of the surrounding hills, the fully blue sky above was only partially hidden.
My weather forecast from my little radio is good for today, although the others stated one more similar to yesterday’s gloom.
I sat talking to a couple of other slow trampers. They were on Day 8 of their Travers/Sabine spin, having stayed at each hut.
We all spoke of the opportunities lost in travelling too speedily, like the guy they met at Blue Lake Hut who I had met the same day at Speargrass. They were spending three days on the same path. Andy had a couple of swims in the lake, until I showed him the monster eels.
But people have different objectives in life.
These guys were clearly enjoying their moments together, and not preferring to be somewhere else in a hurry.
Well, I was in no hurry. That pack was sure weighing me down.
Five people arrived by water taxi just on my exit. All of a sudden there were eight of us, then everyone dissipated. I was heading around the top of the lake, the new arrivals off to Blue Lake.
My afternoon was plotted out. Plodding up Mt Misery.
The first third met that description, ie, misery. The black amoeba from the beech trees was ridiculously slippery, and I experienced some moments. After that it was no less steep, but had better grip for my feet.
I had a few minutes view once above the bushline, until I hit the 1500 m ridge, but then the cloud closed in, and it wasn’t possible to see from one marker pole to the next.
I was wondering where the hut was and looked at my GPS: 69 m away!!
A few more paces, the gloom lifted momentarily, and I’d almost walked into the hut wall.
Yeah, not sure misery was the appropriate description for my almost 1100 m climb, but I sure felt exhausted.
A four bunk hut to myself. No water tank.
Where was the water? Oh, a tarn about 30 m away was deep, and frogs were doing their thing, albeit with an Australian accent. All frogs around are originally recent imports.
If you had four in that hut it would best to be close friends. Three would be bearable, I guess.
But I’m on my lonesome after two social nights. Might stay that way for a while.