Starting km: 2170
Finishing km: 2208
km covered today: 38
All 11 people in the six bunk hut woke up, tidied the hut and got moving surprisingly quickly and efficiently. No doubt at least in part due to the fact that they had a combined 14 days delayed behind flooded rivers and were keen to knock off the final crossing.
The whole way down to the final braid of the Otehake we were comparing river levels and speeds to what they'd been the previous day, making hopeful comments about how much better things looked.
When we finally arrived it was a great relief. The last braid that had stymied us the previous day was down by a lot. At least 60cm, maybe even a metre.
It still wouldn't be a piece of cake, but looked quite manageable. We split the group up into a five and a six and Sage and I gave everyone a lesson on river crossing technique and safety (I'm still a bit astounded/distressed that I was the one most qualified to do this.)
My group of five set out first. The river was fast, but only hip deep and we made it across with no trouble. As did the others. From here on in it was smooth sailing all the way to SH73.
The group spread out with the crossing behind us, Sage and Dutch Ruel joining me in the first pack.
When we got to the footbridge (back [we'd crossed it instead of taking the up and down flood track] across the Otira River they stopped for lunch and to think about plans while I charged straight up the valley of the Deception River.
This was a tough walk. Within the first half hour were two crossings of the Deception that took serious attention to do solo. And the trail beyond was similarly focussing, with lots of slippery and tricky bits.
Twenty minutes later it started to rain. At about the same I reached a point where a rope was attached to help walkers down a short steep wall. While negotiating this I dropped one of my trekking poles. It splashed into the deep, slow moving pool below. Apparently trekking poles have roughly neutral buoyancy. So while I tried to clamber down and rescue it I got to watch it slowly drift out of the pool and disappear into the raging white water below.
And about twenty minutes after that the rain started to fall harder and harder.
This was the point when I started thinking "this is a bad idea." Or more precisely "everything about this is bad idea." I hadn't seen a weather forecast in days and conditions appeared to be worsening. I was walking up a valley with multiple difficult river crossings ahead and behind that would only grow more difficult with the rain. I had at least four hours of walking to the first hut. And even if I got there, there were more rain susceptible rivers on the far side of the pass. And I only had one extra day's supply of food.
I decided to turn around.
About 20 minutes after that I ran into Sage and Ruel. Who also turned back. As Sage explained, they'd thought it felt a but dodgy, but hey, Llew was up ahead and he was doing it alone.
We all walked back to the trail junction. Half an hour down the rain stopped. And as if to rub salt in the wound, right near the end the sun came out and I saw four runners training for the Coast to Coast race running up the track I'd just abandoned wearing singlets and tiny packs.
It's easy to feel content, maybe even slightly smug about making cautious decisions when their wisdom is later borne out. But less easy when you're later proven wrong. Still, with the information I had at the time I guess I made the right choice.
Even though the weather had improved I felt kind of committed to my alternate plan of walking to Arthur's Pass on SH73. True it probably wasn't as pretty as Goat Pass, and I'd driven it many times before, but by walking it I got to savour it in a way not possible by driving. And to take photos from spots where it's illegal to stop your car.
It was about 4 hours to Arthur's Pass Village, where I ran into most of our morning crew of 11.
I planned to carry on past the village to one of the campsites beyond.
On the way there I was waved down by a young French tourist. He and his mate had got their car stuck on a gravel access road to the river. They'd emptied it of cargo and had acquired (somehow, I don't really want to know how) two wire gates that they were using to give the tires more traction. I spent almost an hour helping push the car up the hill one gate width at a time. When the wire mesh from one of them came loose and wrapped itself around the tire and wheel well I gave up and suggested one of them walk back to Arthur's Pass village. Bonne Chance.
All this meant I arrived at the first of two campsites at around 20:30. Past my usual bedtime, much less dinnertime. Even so I made a nice quick lentil curry and finished off the cucumber I'd been carrying since Hanmer.
The DOC campsite had about 20 campervans already parked, but no other tenters, so I got my choice of nice grassy bits. And despite my worries even the rowdiest neighbours quietened down by 22:40 giving me time for a well earned rest.
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