Day 9 – Winton to Aparima River Hut

I got out on the road early, hoping to catch some commuter traffic. I had shaved the night before, on the hypothesis that my facial hair might have been the reason I was having so much trouble hitching. I wound up waiting about an hour, and the guy who picked me up said “I picked you up because I saw you on the way into town, and that was a while ago, so I know you’ve been out here a while.” He was an old navy man who had tried retirement, found it didn’t agree with him, and was now a cook at a pub. He gave me an absolutely fantastic ride, all the way to the base of Dunrobin Road, which was the one I needed to hike up to get access to the Aparima River.

It was warm, overcast, and most of all dry, so I had a pretty good time walking up this gravel farm road. There was a ferocious and continual crosswind that made me quite glad my hat has a strap underneath it. I got to the Aparima River and, misreading the map, thought I had to cross the river. I carefully took off my boots and rolled up my pants before wading across. After walking on the other side for a bit, I realized I had to cross back, and did my meticulous unshoeing act again. This carefulness about wet feet would not last long.

As I walked up the river valley, the sky cleared up even more, and the wind eased up a bit. It’s beautiful terrain in here, a big flat plain with great mountains on either side. I was thrilled to have such great tramping and weather finally. I thought “This is it – this is what I’ve come out here for.”

Towards the end of the day I crossed my first swingbridge to the Aparima Huts. There are actually two huts here - an older one and a newer one. After cooking my dinner and reading the logbook in the newer one, I went to take a look at the old one. I found I liked it much better! The insides of the new hut, like many DoC huts evidently, is coated in particleboard and painted white. The older hut is plain wood, with fabric in places to provide additional insulation, and a tin roof. It feels much more rustic and has a lot more character. I found I liked the older one much better and wound up moving in there for the night. The larger stock of books in this one may have had something to do with the decision – I found half of a book of Arthur C. Clarke short stories.

I remained inside the hut for a while, and went outside to brush my teeth as the light started to fade, and was treated to an amazing golden-coloured countryside. The setting sun was reflecting off the bottoms of the high clouds and giving the landscape a shadowless glow not normally associated with sunset. It was a great end to a great day.