Red Hills Hut - St Arnaud
Let us briefly forget yesterday’s life philosophy. Because it simply can’t be applied to the last day of a section when town food awaits, and you’ve walked 120 km in the most ridiculous terrain. Bring. Me. That. Town!
The morning was overcast with low-hanging clouds, and we decided to follow the 4WD track down from Red Hills down to the road. All four of us walked together, chatting happily even as rain started to drizzle down. Never mind the weather, we had pack covers and growling stomachs! I have zero memory of anything but the lumpy tracks leading down into the forest. Bye bye, mountains. Bye bye, Richmonds. One-two-three-four, repeat. Gone was the last OSM apricot bar. My pack was officially empty. Onto forest trail under a dark canopy of trees. Forest becomes field. Field becomes end of field. TARMAC underfoot!
There was no way in hell we would walk the narrow road and risk getting hit by cars. None of us had had a shower in 8 days. We looked like tramps, but I’d be damned if we didn’t get a hitch.
We divided up into pairs, Toby and I sneakily walked down the road and stood by a bend, holding out limp thumbs as large trucks sped by. 15 min. 20. 30. Until at last, (heaven), a local man pulled his pickup over and took mercy on us.
The 10 km to St Arnaud flew by as I leaned my head toward the window and let Toby do the talking. The sun broke through and glittered over farmhouses and sheep. Our guy dropped us off at the entrance to Travers Sabine Lodge. Shower later. Food first.
Resupply
That is hands down the best raspberry/pear muffin and beef pie I have ever had. Two iced teas, please. Back to the lodge where we checked in. CLEAN BEDS. I poured half a bottle of shampoo over me in the shower and looked myself in the mirror. All farmer’s tanned muscle. Swollen ankles, but you can’t win them all. I’d take the sun-kissed brow any day. I was determined to do nothing but chill in the sun for the rest of the day. Patrick and Etienne came in about two hours later. They never got a hitch and had to log the gruelling roadwalk, poor fellas! We plundered the alpine store for goodies once again and had fancy pizza (pizzapizzapizza!) for dinner, Etienne singing the merits of plain margarita whilst the rest of us piled on meatballs. Gosh, what does one do when there’s no walking scheduled? Eat. Constantly. We staggered home under the weight of our full stomachs.
Our zero day was spent in Utter Bliss. Minor detail: the postman had lost my resupply box. I spent ages on the phone shouting at various people until I found out it had been sent to Auckland. Right. Because when you see a South Island address on a post box, you ship it off to the northernmost north! Makes all the sense in the world! It caused me major headaches because I now had to get all my resupplies from the tiny and super expensive alpine store. I would have to do without contact lenses, book and various other items. My fellow hikers were incredibly generous and gifted me all the leftover food they had – Toby’s endless supply of instant noodles finally came in handy. We strolled to the nearby Lake Rotoiti and enjoyed our lazy holiday.