By Kathleen Griffin, 18 June 2023
“I think I forgot my tramping boots”
Silence...
“I could do the Kepler in Vans, right?”
Now everyone has something to say
I’m going to roll both my ankles
& fall off the mountain
& nobody will carry me out.
Peer-pressured into consumerist safety.
But, shout outs to “Outside Sports Te Anau”
for the kid’s trail runners
on clearance.
Sorry Jackson,
I bought the last baguette from Pak ‘n Save
& ate it on the beach.
We leave our initials in the sand
& head up
& up.
Luxmore was lovely,
I wouldn’t say the same about the hut warden.
Let’s leave it at that.
During a beautiful sunrise
Chris eats a whole can of cold corned beef
then tells us he “knows a shortcut”
It’s so hot above the clouds
& we’re making our own track.
Who’s that at the summit?
The hut warden.
Along the tops
Our walking time calculations were accurate,
but the frozen tarn penguin-sliding time
was grossly underestimated.
I also forgot my headtorch.
Kanoa & I race the sun,
running & sliding all the way to Iris Burn.
First to the hut in time for a chilly swim.
Probably best to follow the track there though,
instead of tussock bashing
in the dark.
Hot raro
huddled round the fire.
Mafia gets personal.
Now it’s my turn to sway Chris.
If we walk all the way out tomorrow
We have an extra day to snowboard.
The walk to Moturau
was easy.
Continuing our journey after lunch at the hut
was hard.
Side quest to hut-bag.
A romantic walk on the beach,
where strangers witnessed us
holding Kevin like a baby for a self-timer photo
Then hitched a ride to Te Anau
for a massive feed at the pub.