tramping new zealand

Some rain before daylight, but it came and went.

I was intent on getting up to Slaughterburn Hut, which, having been built in 2009, had insulation and double-glazed windows, so if I lit a fire, it would be easier to heat. It would be good to dry out my clothes, which were wet after the day before‘s occasional drizzle. It would be great to spend a few days in a quiet, non-damp hut.

Despite being further and taking longer, I decided on the true left side track as it has better track markings and is more obvious, plus it went through some excellent forest, according to my now four-year-old recollection from my previous time up at the hut. True right on return.

To get there, I backtracked over the swingbridge, this time in daylight hours, and climbed up onto the river terrace that had seemed an obstacle the previous night.

Much easier travelling in the light, I found.

It took a while to connect with the track, but then I made progress as it’s slightly undulating once you get up there.

The rain held off, and it was good walking on a decent track through the crown fern and mixed forest.

I’d mucked around for a while at the hut, so it was around 2 pm by the time I made it to the descent to the river.

My plan: half an hour to negotiate the almost 100 m steep drop, then an hour and a half on the flat to the swingbridge. Then, half an hour on a good track up to the hut. So, I’d be there before dark.

Except, the track suddenly deteriorated.

It was very steep and I had to take my time. Then, at the bottom, lots of windfall meant following the track wasn’t so easy. The crown fern became shoulder high, and I seldom saw my feet. And the markers were less obvious in all the vegetation.

Slow going.

After a while, I had a short climb in open forest once again and could lengthen my stride. Unfortunately, this easiest walking of the day was too short.

Another short drop, this time greasy, with some round glacier pebbles to negotiate.

My right foot slid abruptly, I heard a crunch, and felt pain.

Oh, this was serious.

I hobbled on with shooting pain from my right knee with each footstep. I was still 2 km from the hut, with the swingbridge at the halfway mark.

But, quickly, I worked out how to swing my leg to avoid any intense sensation and shuffle along.

It was getting dark by the time I reached the swingbridge, and that proved not so easy to cross. With netting on the three-wire bridge to snag my boots, and the sagging wires giving plenty of motion.

Normally, that would be fun, but this time it was just painful.

On the other side, I was out with my head torch and changing the batteries. It was now pitch dark, but with numerous sandflies attacking for some reason.

What I remembered as a great track from my previous trip was partly that, partly overgrown. Near the Slaughter Burn, the river bank had collapsed, requiring some bush bashing through high crown fern with a touch of lawyer.

I refrained from looking at my GPS, but after an hour along the “twenty-minute one-kilometre” track to the hut, I finally relented.

I was still in the forest, but the GPS on my phone app put me directly in the middle of the hut. That wasn’t right.

However, three steps more and I could see the hut wall 10 m away.

Hooray!

No one had been in the hut for six weeks, and as anticipated, I was once again having a night on my lonesome.

It turned out the time was almost 7 pm, with those last 2 km taking three hours.

No surprise, it was time to prepare dinner and get straight to bed.

A guide to the night’s accommodation: Slaughterburn Hut