|
|
Perry Saddle HutWe set off again. The slope has begun to ease somewhat, we are better for our rest and we make good time. When we reach Flanagan's Corner, the highest altitude on the track at 910 metres, the girls have enough spare energy for a five minute detour to the lookout. As you can see, things have started to level out a bit. Yeah, sort of. The rain has not only disappeared, there is a blue dome day out there.
From the lookout, Perry Saddle Hut was just visible. From here it is mostly gentle downhill to the hut. We are now on a west-facing slope, and the vegetation changes in response to a harder more exposed environment, and is mostly dracophyllum and manuka. It has taken us 6.5 hours of total walking, 8.5 hours altogether.
We boil up the billy again. By the time we emerge from the hut, the sun has started to set and the first wekas have been sighted.
I swallow a voltaren tablet and begin organising dinner, keeping an eye on the sunset through the hut window. At this stage there seems to be no gas in the hut. The temperature has dropped markedly.
We organise our beds, and gradually more and more people arrive. Trish, Brian and Shona appear and Trish immdiately begins organising gas. A very effective lady, and a number of men discover skills they only guessed they had. But even Trish has her Achilles heel. She is standing in the centre of the room chatting to a group of people when she changes colour, pauses and swallows, possibly even splutters. "Excuse me. I can see a naked man..." Through the window can be seen a gentleman some 15 kg larger than me who has stripped off beside the large hand basin outside and is vigorously washing and towelling his entire body with special attention to his nether regions. Everybody stares. Trish is vocal on the subject for the next several days.
I get some diary written up, and eventually head off to bed. I sleep better than I deserve to, thanks to the voltaren. Miranda snores quietly beside me, and likewise Carol across the room. The large gentleman is in our bunkroom and is easily the loudest of all. I have to admire him for one thing: how the hell he got himself up that hill, and faster than we did, is something I just do not comprehend. He finishes the trip a couple of days ahead of us if the visitors books are to be believed. |
|
