A rest day. We've done 110ks in five days so reckoned we deserved it.
It was a chance for a sleep in and some time to get to know the historic Martin's hut. We didn't know much about it except that it was built in 1905..
It has a recently added water tank and four nice new DoC mattresses. It's full of holes so would be pretty uncomfortable in winter, but we couldn't see our breath so were happy. The weather had turned to rain so the day off turned out to be a good decision.
The hut is very photogenic, but unfortunately has an thoughtlessly obtrusive DOC sign right at the front door. Fail.
Which brings me to cabin porn. One of our favourite websites is an American photo blog about wilderness huts - or cabins. If you're stuck behind a desk every day it's a great way to get some freedom. Be careful googling it at work - but it's worth the risk.
I think the address is www.cabinporn.com but don't blame me if you you get it wrong and need to call in the union.
Martin's Hut gets its kit off for you below.
After spending time in the rain photographing the hut, tidying, eating and sleeping, Graeme arrived. He was the first TeA hiker we'd met and had been following us since he saw our foot prints on Oreti Beach.
It was good to do some trail yakking. He had just come off 15 days on Stewart Island and only had a couple of months to walk the trail and was seeing how far he could get. I guess that makes him an extreme Section Walker.
Graeme's philosophy was to "mooch along". He takes his trail as it comes.
We chopped some wood, lit a fire and talked till near dark. I think we'll see more of each other on the trail after we all leave tomorrow.
Whiona's notes:
Hut day.
In the night I heard Ruru, possums and woke to flies buzzing around the dirty dishes from last night.
It's so dark we could sleep for days.
Cleaned an old hut pot and heated some water for a wash outside. Feeling human. Then I removed the last four days of tape from my feet. They look OK, hardly limping.
Am starting to believe in the magnesium pills.
After breakfast sat for the morning doing notes while wearing Isobel's (the weaver from Colac Bay) fingerless mitts. I organised my pack while Whin photo'd this very old, quaint and decrepit hut.
It drizzled all morning.
It was a chance for a sleep in and some time to get to know the historic Martin's hut. We didn't know much about it except that it was built in 1905..
It has a recently added water tank and four nice new DoC mattresses. It's full of holes so would be pretty uncomfortable in winter, but we couldn't see our breath so were happy. The weather had turned to rain so the day off turned out to be a good decision.
The hut is very photogenic, but unfortunately has an thoughtlessly obtrusive DOC sign right at the front door. Fail.
Which brings me to cabin porn. One of our favourite websites is an American photo blog about wilderness huts - or cabins. If you're stuck behind a desk every day it's a great way to get some freedom. Be careful googling it at work - but it's worth the risk.
I think the address is www.cabinporn.com but don't blame me if you you get it wrong and need to call in the union.
Martin's Hut gets its kit off for you below.
After spending time in the rain photographing the hut, tidying, eating and sleeping, Graeme arrived. He was the first TeA hiker we'd met and had been following us since he saw our foot prints on Oreti Beach.
It was good to do some trail yakking. He had just come off 15 days on Stewart Island and only had a couple of months to walk the trail and was seeing how far he could get. I guess that makes him an extreme Section Walker.
Graeme's philosophy was to "mooch along". He takes his trail as it comes.
We chopped some wood, lit a fire and talked till near dark. I think we'll see more of each other on the trail after we all leave tomorrow.
Whiona's notes:
Hut day.
In the night I heard Ruru, possums and woke to flies buzzing around the dirty dishes from last night.
It's so dark we could sleep for days.
Cleaned an old hut pot and heated some water for a wash outside. Feeling human. Then I removed the last four days of tape from my feet. They look OK, hardly limping.
Am starting to believe in the magnesium pills.
After breakfast sat for the morning doing notes while wearing Isobel's (the weaver from Colac Bay) fingerless mitts. I organised my pack while Whin photo'd this very old, quaint and decrepit hut.
It drizzled all morning.
Graeme.
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