Routeburn Track Day 2: Mist the Views
I rise late in the Flats hut and break my fast on rye bread, whilst poring over a map of the area.
Today, I shall cross over the mountain pass at a leisurely pace, to take in the spectacular views and scenery. If there is a better way to spend a day, I haven’t found one…but it probably involves feast and fighting…in a mountain pass.
I set off at 10:00, intending to be at the next hut within the hour and my final destination by 15:00. Having slept in my thermal base layers, I decide to keep the leggings on beneath my Craghoppers for what I have been assured will be a chilly accent.
Twenty minutes later, I stop. What madness was this, wearing thermal leggings to climb a mountain? They are stuck to my legs with sweat and impeding every step. In rage, I remove my trousers and peel the leggings from my aching limbs.
Idicoy.
Sans-thermals, I set a far better pace up the mountain. Fifteen minutes later, however, the rain starts…and it does not end. For two days.
What is probably one of the most scenic and beautiful walks in the entire country (and, therefore, the entire world) quickly becomes a hazy blur – a mass of mist. The views, such as they are…are not.
On the plus side, I have come to understand the fuss about the ‘breathability’ of fabrics. When wearing my Shield jacket, I can run up a mountain and not necessarily overheat or get drenched in sweat. Slap on a cheap waterproof over the top, however, and it takes less than 5 minutes before I am living in an oven.
Breathable fabrics are covered in tiny holes; too small for a water droplet to get through, but plenty big enough to allow sweat droplets to escape (because they are much smaller than water droplets). Whn performing high-energy activities in the rain, these fabrics are invaluable.
I seek out some shelter for lunch. Just to clarify, I do not eat the shelter. I eat my lunch in the shelter. It consists of more rye bread and a Mars Bar.
An hour or so later, I come across two wizards fighting on the plain. They claim to be Gandalf and Saorman, but I know better. I assume I am hallucinating from the over-consumption of ham.
In the day huts, I discover a family who are celebrating the birthday of one of their young daughters. Delving into my bag, I offer her the slice of cake I have been carrying upon my person – intended for Guild photograph and a delicious Cake Break.
She politely declines. They already have a entire cake, which they will decorate at the next hut. Secretly, I am pleased.
THE CAKE IS MINE!
The next sign estimates 4 – 5 hours to the Mackenzie huts. The wizards inform me it is more like three. Two hours, then, as the Guildsman flies*.
Along the way, I try handstands balanced between two rocks. It is hard.
I set out at 13:00. At 15:00 exactly, I arrive at the hut. I am sodden, but punctual.
*Normally, a Guildsman’s Pace is exactly twice as fast as the average pace. In fact, a Guildsman’s anything is exactly twice the average. Rule 8: Everything Twice as Much.