tramping new zealand

Big day. Following the day before’s big day.

It was a change of plan. I originally thought, maybe, I would return the way I came, speedily, but then I had another thought.

Camp at, or before, the car and take a more circuitous route to take in the full sights of the region.

Turn it into a loop.

Great.

It didn’t matter how far I’d get, I could just pop up the tent, which on this trip had just been used as a pillow.

The morning started with a 300 m climb back up to the ridge on a fairly cloudy day, and then undulated along the top.

Eventually, it started to descend, but was quite gradual to help out with ageing knees. It all went as predicted until I made it down and crossed the upper Cluden Stream.

I could see cattle from up on high, and they noted me. As I strolled along, I gathered quite a herd, eventually including a couple of bulls. It got to a point where one bunch peeled off down the hill to join friends. But a small group instead followed an energetic heifer leader who started up the road with a calf in tow. This continued for almost two hours, where every time they had a chance to peel off, well, they didn’t.

Eventually, I got to the start of a gorge which required me to climb about 100 m up the steep farm track I was on. At last, the cows declined additional exercise and took a low road as I plodded up the incline.

Then I made it to a fence with a gate across the track, and with the water as reinvigorated as it could be after 2 km of rapids, I set up my tent.

Still a couple of hours away from my car, but I could cope with that in the morning.

My steps counter claimed 26 km for the day, which may be about right. I’d walked for most of the 10 hours since I left the hut.

It felt like a good effort.