Four days, three nights, two inches of rain and one hellavu time. Rewind a few days back. Before Sydney. Before almost missing our international flight from Christchurch. Before the rain started. We should have listened. It all started when the Kiwi party bus picked us up in Glenrochy. It was Mark and I, four American guys, an English couple, an Aussie and an Israeli girl from royalty (supposedly she was traveling to toughen up her princess ways). So there we were in the bush, on the Routeburn Track, tramping 33 kilometers over three days through middle earth. Through dense Beech forest with glacial waterfalls, high alpine lakes and immense mountain valleys all converging at one point. We spent two nights in luxury bush accomodation, a backcountry hut stocked with flushing toilets, running water, gas cookers and
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