I have walked out in rain...

I wake in the night to the sound of rain, or is it just the Brown River which flows past close beside the hut. I drift off again, and in the morning it is obvious it was indeed rain.

This our first look at a mountain river in (minor) flood. It has no mud in it. Just more water.

We pack up, sign the Intentions Book and ready ourselves for The Trip. Mike is walking in with us for a couple of hours, and then heading back to Christchurch.

It's just after 8 am. We line up for a picture. Miranda is on the left, Carol on the right and me in the middle. We head up river a hundred metres or so, across the first bridge — a solid one — and briefly into the forest. On our right, we pass a huge patch of kidney fern. We do have it up our way but it's not at all common.

We emerge briefly from the bush, and across a meadow that would not be out of place in parts of Africa. A faint rainbow signals the last of the drizzle. We have put Miranda in charge of the weather, and she opts for a light covering of high cloud, at least during the middle of the day.

Back into the bush.

The ferns are something special.

I have a fair knowledge of our local bush, but I am soon into overwhelm.

The grade, however, seems quite easy. If it doesn't get any worse than this I should be all right. I've tackled far harder stuff than this in training.

Just to the side a small creeper makes its way up a tree trunk. For me, it will be small cameos like this as much as the wide open vistas that capture my attention.

Mike has kindly offered to carry my pack for a bit — I have obviously been cast as the slightly fragile one among us. I accept his offer gratefully and at the end of the day I am even more appreciative.

We carry on upwards, gently but inexorably, and the light in the bush starts to change as the vegetation changes.

In the Intentions Book at Browns, there had been a note from a DoC ranger on his way out to the effect there was a tree across the track "about 40 minutes in from Browns." When we eventually get there, we have been travelling a little more than 80 minutes. It is our first encounter with DoC estimates of tramping time.

This is not just any sapling. You can get an idea of the size compared to Carol and Mike.

Fortunately, Mike in the course of his work routinely leaps tall buildings with a single bound, and it is simple matter for him to organise us past it.

All along the track the remains of branches and fallen trees with chainsaw marks slicing them off at the track boundary gives us an idea of just how much energy DoC puts into making life simple for us.