Day 69 – Roebuck Hut to Pelorus River

I woke naturally well before dawn, and was plenty alert, but my body just did not want to get out of bed.  I think I pushed it harder than I realized yesterday.  I got up slowly and savored my last hut morning, being especially careful about tidying and sweeping before I left, feeling this would help to put a proper finish on everything.

I expected to get out to Pelorus Bridge today, but the first seven kilometers were much slower than I expected – steep sidling on slippery terrain often forced me to go slowly.  I passed Middy Hut and Captain’s Creek Hut, pausing only briefly to skim their hut books, OCD style.

Past Captain’s Creek it was easy cruising, though I caught my boot on a stick and where there were three holes previously, there are now two again.  No, this was not a magical stick of +1 boot repair.  It just pulled the topological trick of ripping a path from one hole to the other, along the way taking out an important structural piece of leather, and undoing half the stitches I had had professionally replaced in Wellington.  Now my sock can easily be  seen through a three-inch gash in the boot.  At least there is still a sole under my foot.

I reached the metalled part of Maungatapu Rd. and was able to really start trucking.  Sunset was soon, but I figured I could follow the road in the dark with no problem.  I was determined to make it to civilization and have a proper meal at the Pelorus Bridge Cafe, about which all I knew was that someone had mentioned it in a hut book.

Then I saw a nice patch of pine trees, my favorite type of campsite.  They were well-spaced and looked like they’d have a nice bed of pine needles to lie down on.  So I reconsidered.  The cafe would probably be closed by the time I reached it, if I know small-town New Zealand at all.

So my legs thanked me deeply as I sat down to make dinner in my little stealth campsite.  The pines belonged to a timber company, but I figured nobody would mind as long as I didn’t try to take any of them home with me.  Besides, tucked away off a quiet country road no one would ever know I was here.

While there was still light, I noticed some ominous clouds in the sky, but I was so exhausted I didn’t want to hang my hammock, so I figured I’d just lie on the ground and if I felt rain I’d pull my rain fly over me and go back to sleep.

Just as I was nodding off, I thought I saw the flash of lightning.  Opening my eyes a little I saw it was only a truck’s headlights flashing between the trees.  Just a farmer driving home late at night, I figured.  Until the light slowed and then stopped, pointing directly at me.  Caught in the headlights, I played possum, figuring maybe whoever it was just wouldn’t bother me.  Sure enough, after a minute the truck pulled away.  As it drove off I saw a beam of light roving up and down the hillsides.  Of course!  These were hunters spotlighting deer, they must have seen me and been curious.

I relaxed and tried to calm my heart rate.  The timber police wouldn’t be carting me off tonight.  My sleeping bag was suddenly too hot and I had to remove layers of clothing to get comfortable.  Lately it’s gotten cold enough most nights that I wear clothes inside my bag for extra warmth.

Right when I was starting to doze again, the truck returned.  “Shine the light over there,” a voice commands, and I hear a door slam.  I hear footsteps heading towards me and resign myself to the fact that I will have to talk to someone, so I sit up and say hello.

“Oh, hi!” says a surprised Kiwi voice.  “You okay?”  I explain that I’m fine, just camping the night and gone in the morning.  Turns out he saw my pile of gear and didn’t realize there was a person here!  He assumed it was accidentally left out by his mate, who owns the land, and figured he’d do a good deed and get it out of the impending rain.  He apologized for waking me and drove off.