Kepler Track Fiordland National Park |
March 20, 2017 — Day 3
Today's sole mission is to get to the next hut, which involves little more than walking down the valley in a straight line through the dark forest. That's the price we must pay for seeing all that spectacular stuff yesterday. The suggested walking time is six hours.
The two sisters retrieve a frisbee
It looks as if it might rain a bit today, so I affix
the orange $30 rain-proof pack cover that was purchased just
three days ago. Dave already has a similar item.
View toward the falls that we did not visit
Heading east
After an hour or so, after feeling a total of about five raindrops, I remove the pack cover. It simply is not going to rain for real today.
The rocks turn red when wet, just like granite in the Sierra
The Meruliaceae almost look good enough to eat
Cotton candy, anyone?
Meat balls and parmesan cheese. Yum!
Another shelter in name only. Flies begone!
Our first real stream crossing
All the others had bridges. And I was worried about getting my feet wet on this trip.
A work of art, or just clearing the path?
There are those crazy tall plants again. I like them.
Our hut must be around here somewhere on Lake Maturau
I really am yearning for some sort of anti-itch salve.
Sand fly bites just don't up and go away, and being this unprepared
is — that's right — stupid.
Artist's Porebracket
Scarlet Flycap
Swimming, anyone? Not I, not today
When fellow tramper John makes an appearance, Dave hands him a red sack containing all of John's food, which he had inexplicably left behind this morning. Presently another hiker shows up with another sack containing John's cooking equipment, also forgotten. I guess that John will eat for the next two days after all.
Now Dave discovers that our own memories have not served us so well, either; for the new graduated Nalgene bottle is missing. One of us left it on a table at the last hut. Now we're back to guessing on our recipes.
That man has a coke! How does he rate?
Actually, the man is a Coast Guard serviceman recently moved to
Roseville. He walked in from town just today from the other
direction, which explains why he can have a non-mushy
Subway sandwich and a still-fizzing soft drink.
As aforementioned, this day was little more than a long slog
through the rainforest. After Day #2, pretty much all
that is left is to make one's way back to the nearest bus stop.