tramping new zealand

At 7 am it was raining, but I popped out of my sleeping posture and made breakfast. Pitch dark, so candles came in handy.

I’d woken during the night to heavy rain, but still had some optimism about Slaughterburn Hut.

At 8 am it was sufficiently light to inspect the river that had gone from a swiftly flowing black tea colour, to a furious tea with milk raging on its way to the sea. At least 300 mm higher, and my measuring stick in the water was not to be sighted.

Miniature ponds had developed over the trimmed lawn. As the day progressed these became one major lake. Mostly drizzle, but it was constant. The cloud density made it remarkably dark.

One of my concerns was that halfway to the hut an un-bridged creek had a reasonable catchment. With the continual rain, and the evidence of the raging river, it seemed likely that this would prove an issue to cross.

A revision of plans. 10 am was my cut-off time, just in case I had to turn back, and needed to give myself enough light to return.

Still raining at 1 pm. The steady drip of the tap inside.

No fire as I wanted to leave a reasonable supply of dry wood for future occupants, and in the conditions preferred not to venture towards the beach for more firewood.

Instead, I returned to my warm sleeping bag and with little else to do read a book on my phone.

Man, if I can’t make progress to Slaughterburn tomorrow, will have to abandon that idea, and should start my three-day return journey.