8-12 November 2007

From the Psychotic to the Sublime

The Lake Waikaremoana Track

Day 2, Page 6

Sure enough, just along the way is a large campground shelter, strongly Maori in its visual reference, but equally strongly middle New Zealand in the bunch of Warehouse folding chairs and several chilly bins inside.

andd here's the hut

It's big.

It is a good example of DoC's recent burst of hut building, substantial, plywood and polyurethane lined, with ample decks and covered in more notices than an industrial worksite. I've mentioned the design deficiencies in the Panekiri Hut, and this seems to have avoided all of these, while the large woodstove is ideally suited to the job. For those planning where to stay, this is an obvious choice: the next hut is a good 5-6 hours walk. Later on the track, more choices are available.

Marauiti Hut is an old style hut, as is Whanganui Hut, wonderful expressions of particle board and ex-hospital green paint, but they are wonderfully cosy and dare I say intimate and the gas heaters in these huts are efficient for the volume they are heating. They preserve wonderfully the "bach" aesthetic that some of us oldies have grown up with, unlike Waihuruhuru Hut which is a slap-up two piece barn, all mod cons and so forth, but impersonal and vast.

From the deck, we look out on a green open space, separated from the lake by a belt of scrub. Boats are tied up at the lakeside.

The interior features vast stores of food and alcohol and cast iron camp ovens, one of which is bubbling away gently on a large gas element. There's a party going on and we have been warned in advance by a couple of trampers on the way over.

Miranda sets about making a cup of tea. No sign of Lesleigh and Dakin.

I set up in the small bunkroom, which is light, airy and spacious.

Someone at DoC has got a sense of humour, of sorts, or they wouldn't have installed a smoke detector directly over the candle stick, or a candlestick under a smoke detector. The problem likely is not serious. Smoke detectors require a battery to run and batteries die and need to be replaced periodically.

We do not encounter a DoC ranger all trip, so items such as batteries may well be overlooked.

Miranda has the cup of tea sorted and I take a look at her shoulders. She has been deliberately carrying a heavy pack to get fit for a planned later expedition which will involve some more arduous walking, and sure enough, the upper traps are a bit like the buttresses on the beech boles. I do like the new hairstyle.

We head outside for a look at the lake, and make our way down to the shore.

It's crystal clear, and cold, and someone is looking forward to a cool Scotch and Dry later on by the looks of it.

Lesleigh and Dakin arrive with a decent trout and a casserole for dinner which just requires heating. The hunter groups resume their party. I think there's one deer hanging in the storage shed. It's all good, I haven't heard Slim Dusty or Kenny Rogers songs at a party for years. Miranda instructs the guitarists in the correct chords for Ten Guitars, which somehow has been missing from their repertoires up till now. I retire around 10.30 and sleep through till dawn.