The Awful, Dreadful Hike

18-3-2014

    It started out in the rain. That should have been our first sign, but it was very light rain and it was supposed to clear up for the next few days so we decided to start ASAP. We had to ford a river at the beginning so we wanted to start before it rained harder and the water rose too high to make for an easy crossing. I wore my rain jacket but not my rainpants. I had on my Teva sandals and my new zip-off pants that I'd just bought in Queenstown. I took the bottom parts off so I could cross the river in shorts, then zipped them back on once I reached the other side to protect me from sandflies. Very handy, but the river was deep enough to get my shorts wet so I got wet anyways. I looked silly at first, but soon enough I was soaked anyways because of the rain. I didn't mind. 

     We hiked six hours to the Young Hut and stayed there for the night. When we got there I was feeling smelly, so Luke and I went down to the river and found a good swimming hole to jump into. It was freezing cold. The coldest water I've ever been in. I had intended on getting my hair wet but I got in up to my waist and that was enough for me. Within seconds my feet hurt because the water was that cold. We very quickly washed off, dressed ourselves in the cold rain, then went back to the hut. I put on every warm layer I had and eventually felt better. 

     We hung all our wet stuff outside under the porch roof, hoping it would clear up a bit and dry overnight. Just before we went to bed it was still raining, so I transferred my rain jacket and pants inside. They were sort of dry the next morning. Everything outside was even wetter than when we had hung it up. It had not cleared up overnight. It was still raining. In fact, it was raining harder. I put my damp zip-off pants back on, thinking it would be worse not to and get my only dry clothes all wet. I packed up the wet stuff, put on a new shirt, along with my rain jacket, and we headed out. 

      Luke wore his wet pants, too. It was supposed to get nice out so we figured they'd dry out as we went. It didn't get nice out. In fact, it rained and then rained harder. We hiked up and up towards the saddle we had to cross to get to the next hut, and the closer we got the steeper it got. It got so steep that I frequently looked back the direction we'd come from, not see further down than the immediate twenty feet below us, and wonder how in the heck we'd gotten up there so easily. Although, it really wasn't too easy. Everything was wet, slippery, not to mention steep, and the further up we got the windier it got. Sometimes it gusted so heavily we hunkered down into whatever crevice we could find and held on. The rain felt like sleet against our faces. Maybe it was. 

      Ridiculously, I was having fun. I thought we were half crazy for being out there, crossing over mountains (although a saddle is, by definition, the lowest point between mountains) but it was fun. There were waterfalls everywhere on the surrounding mountainsides, thousands it seemed. The clouds covered up a lot but they also thinned out in spots and we could see the silhouettes of the surrounding peaks, and all the waterfalls. And besides the view, it was nice to have a different experience, even if it meant foul weather. I really, oddly, had fun. Plus, I thought it was hilarious that we passed the army group (who had gotten up at dawn to leave, and we left late in the morning), and I was still wearing my Teva sandals. To be fair, I'm pretty sure they were carrying absurdly heavy packs, with way more than they knew they'd need, because it was a training exercise for the officers. Still, I got a chuckle out of it. 

     By the time we reached the Siberia Hut we were again soaked. Although, honestly, we had been soaked within an hour of leaving the Young Hut. For most of our hike our pants clung to us, and water squished around with every step, and every turn. Unlike the day before, we were soaked through this time. Either from sweat or rain, even my rain jacket was soaked inside and out. So was my pack, in spite of the rain cover on it. The wind had driven the rain in around the sides, and that's not easy to do. It had pooled at the bottom and thoroughly soaked my pack. Good thing I was smart and packed everything in water proof stuff sacks, or zip lock bags. They both worked. Everything inside my pack was still dry, including my change of clothes. I was relieved. 

     Luckily Siberia Hut had a warden, who had started a nice, warm fire in the wood stove, and we were able to hang our clothes on the ceiling rack nearby to dry them out. We changed into our dry clothes and settled in for the night. Mostly we just played chess until we went to bed. 

     The next morning when we woke up it was still grey. It was misty, and gloomy, so I slept in. The plan had been to hike to Lake Crucible, a six hour hike in total, off the main track. It was supposedly the most beautiful part of the whole track to see. But there was no point in hiking back uphill to see something that was covered by clouds so we nixed that plan. Instead, we were slow to get up, slow to make breakfast, and slow to pack up. 

     Halfway through breakfast the fog started to burn off. Within an hour it was a beautiful, sunny day. The grass still had dew on it, so it was still a bit wet outside, but it was drying quickly. Finally, a nice day. We thought about changing our minds again and going to Lake Crucible after all, but we ended up not doing it. Luke looked at the weather and the next day was supposed to be worse than anything we'd seen so far. Gale force winds were expected. We didn't want to spend another two nights at the hut, so we decided to hike all the way out that day. We had to cross the same big river to get out that we had to cross to get in, only 6 kilometers downstream of where we'd crossed to go in. In those 6 kilometers, more rivers had run down from the mountains and valleys in between and converged with the main one, making it even deeper and swifter than before. Not to mention all the rain we got, but that shouldn't make much of a difference by the time we got to it. It was estimated to be a 7-9 hour hike. And thanks to the weather forecast, it was a last minute plan, so we didn't start until noon. I made it my goal to get there and get across the river before dark. 

      Turned out the hike out wasn't so bad. The parts of the trail that we followed were a huge pain in the butt, but we quickly solved that problem by just walking on the gravelbar of the river instead. The trail followed it closely, and the only times we had to use it were when the river butted right up against the woods. We made it out in about 5 hours, I think. But by "made it out" I mean "made it to the big, main river". The one we had to cross. We looked at the river where it was marked to cross, and the fields beyond. We were so unmotivated to cross yet. I just didn't want to. We thought maybe we could find a better place. Besides, we still had to walk back to our car, so we figured we might as well walk up the river towards it and cross in the best spot we could find.

      We walked forever. Or at least it felt like that. I had chosen to again wear my Tevas, but because they were still soaked and my feet had been dry, I had rubbed my skin raw in a few places and it hurt to walk. We were both tired, and very sore. Each step got harder. The river only seemed to get worse, so we kept walking. We figured we'd eventually get to the spot where we had crossed before and have to back-track only a little. That didn't happen. We walked as far as we could before the river butted up to woods again, and we were left with two choices: either we scramble up, around, and through the woods, or we just cross there. The spot actually looked like a really good spot to cross. As good as it was going to get. So, we decided to just cross there. We found big sticks to help us, and in we went.

      The water was cold, and swift. It started off easy but then it got deeper. The water crept up past my waist, soaking the waist-straps on my pack, and my shirt way up past my belly button. I leaned forward on the stick for support and found that all that did was help the river sweep my feet out from underneath me. I started to slide, and wobble. The current kept pushing me sideways but somehow I managed to righten myself out again. I tried not to think about how much I didn't want to fall and have to swim in such cold water, with a pack on my back (because it wasn't so bad that I felt I had to unbuckle it). I concentrated on moving my feet and staying balanced, so much that I hardly even noticed the cold. Right in the middle of the river I got stuck for a few seconds. It seemed no matter how hard I tried to move, as soon as I started to shift in the slightest, I felt I was going to be swept away. I told Luke I was stuck, and he stopped. I think he talked me through it but I don't really remember. I was concentrating on not swimming. I got through it, but from then on I followed behind Luke. He broke the current for me. I don't know if it was that, or the fact that it was getting shallower, that made it easier. Probably both. Either way, we both made it across just fine. That was the deepest river crossing I'd ever done. Until then, I'd always been able to find some other means of crossing. Like a boat, or a fallen tree. 

      We still had a few kilometers to walk before we were back to our van. We walked through another field, and some thorny bushes, trying not to scare the cows. Finally we got to the road. From there we walked another two kilometers, I'd say. Hitch hiking was not even possible because the road had closed at 6:00 for construction on a slide area on Haast Pass. But once we were to the road it got easier.

      When we finally reached our van we were done for the night. It was almost dark, time to find a camp spot anyway, the road was closed...might as well just stay there. Plus, we saw at least 4 fire trucks, 2 police cars, 2 ambulances, a news car, and 2 helicopters whizz by, heading toward the pass. I don't know where the accident was but I know there was one. Probably a bad one. We decided it was best to stay off the closed road and out of their way. We didn't even drive the 2 kilometers back into town that night, we just crashed there at the trailhead (if you could call it that). It was a widened shoulder area big enough for about 4 cars, and surrounded by sheep, but we weren't picky. We were just tired.

     Supposedly, we hiked over the saddle on a ridge-line of Mount Awful, and also hiked past Mount Dreadful, but I couldn't say. It was too rainy and cloudy to see for sure, so I'll just have to trust the map. We joked about how appropriately the mountains were named, since they were prone to constant foul weather like we'd experienced, and we decided to name this blog post after them. The hike wasn't that awful, certainly not dreadful, but man was it trying.