This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
After struggling with the pace, lack of fitness, and too many goodies in my pack, I decided not to travel with the fitter, longer legged, stronger blokes in my group for the walk out.
left the hut an hour ahead of the others and set off on a sparkling Tararua moming to tramp from Totara Flats to the Holdsworth roadend. Ten minutes down the =.drack I passed two trampers camped by the river. They were engrossed in their breakfast and each other. That was to be my last sighting of a human for three hours.
The first stretch was taken very quietly as muscles which had worked for too long anaerobically the previous day were gently warmed and stretched. By the swing bridge at Old Totara Flats Hut those muscles were well limbered up, the sun was high enough to warm the track in places, and the trees were alive with birds. The bush was clean and fresh after the light rain the previous day, and very pleasant.
Being alone meant no-one was waiting to cross at either end of the swing bridge, so I was able to stop on the bridge and admire the stunning views in each direction without holding anyone up.
Shortly after the bridge I startled a young deer on the track. I’m not sure which of us was more surprised. We looked straight at each other from 10 metres apart for a magical minute, before it bounded off up a ridge and out of sight. I was delighted. I had seen lots of sign in the Tararuas, but never the real thing. Had I been in my group,! would not have seenit at all. We would probably have been making so much noise it would have taken fright long before we arrived on the scene.
{ began to really enjoy the solitude. Knowing the rest of CLAG, ENLIGHTENMENT,____ my party would be along later was a comfort but I was mindful of the dangers. I took more than usual care with my footing, was careful to stay on the track, even though the riverbed looked to offer easier travel in places. No sense in drowning myself at that stage. It was a luxury to choose my own stopping places, to eat and drink when I chose to, and to look at things that interested me,
A huge, and unusually light-coloured weta jumped onto my foot as I was dangling off some tree roots whilst climbing up a bank. A giant, native earthworm, as thick as my finger poked 10 of its 30 or more centimetres out from under some leaf litter. This was my first encounter with one of these creatures in its own natural habitat.
The grind from the river up to the Gentle Annie track proved easy at my pace, and I reached the top still feeling fresh and pleased with myself for not flagging part way.
I stopped at the signpost at the top for a drink, and within minutes saw the first humans in nearly 3 hours. Two men striding up to Powell for a Sunday walk, and talking LOUDLY, or so it seemed after hearing only birdsong and my own footsteps for so long.
To regular “full on” trampers it may seeminsignificant, but for a born again tramper like me, who is usually surrounded by noisy family members and friends, my morning alone proved blissfully good for the soul, and worth repeating.
There is so much to see and enjoy in our bush. Ask yourself truthfully, when was the last time you really looked closely at the rocky bottom of a pool, or under a fern, or inside a hollow tree. Take time to enjoy the bush, learn about a new tree or fem, or just poke in the leaf litter and see what moves!
& JUST ANOTHER WEEKEND TRAMP By Chris Collyns