stewart island

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day 2: port william to christmas village hut 18km
i had a nearly sleepless night last night....anticipation and mischievous visitors. a silly possum woke the entire bunk last night. it somehow made it inside the hut and was scurrying around. i was delerious with sleep, but still managed to find my walking pole as defense. heh. i can see now how ridiculous i must have looked crouched on my bunk pointing a walking pole at a clearly confuse possum. a woman more brave than me cornered and chased it out with her headlamp.

this morning i woke before the sunrise to prepare for my longest day. my eyes were droopy, but the air wasn't cold so no shock climbing out of my bag. the air wasn't cold i discovered because of the thick cloud cover and lack of wind. as my water for coffee was boiling the rain started to fall....not hard but a steady pitter patter on the roof. i packed my bag attempting to keep the heavy stuff near the middle/bottom: it all feels heavy. my pack covered and my gators on i was ready for raid and mud. rain and mud i got. with the exception of two beautiful beaches for 18km i occasionally had a choice between slippery roots knarled in the trail or knee deep mud. i often chose mud, but for the most part there was no avoiding either one. this island may not be terribly high in altitude at any place, but it is formed such that its tallest peaks are in the middle and extent ridges as arms cut with rivers to its outskirts. i will climb a single mountain and cross a single ridge the entire 10 days and the rest will be steady up big hills and down to creek crossings. today was my first taste of the hills....they seemed to get steeper and more trecherous as the day wore on. i confronted lots of places on the trail where the first step up i had to make was well beyond half my height and all unstable mud. my first attempt was a miserable failure. i was covered in mud....my legs, my arms, hand....and as i wiped my face with my sleeve that became covered too. a true mud warrior!! i could only think of my mom, being short too, doing the exact same thing. all out....it's just the way we do things.

i didn't even see the bush i was tramping through. i was forced to concentrate so hard on how deep the mud was or how slippery the tangled black roots were. i did stop to marvel at the long uninterrupted horizon when i came to the beaches. murray beach i followed for a kilometer or so from beginning to end. it was golden sand in a sheltered C-shaped bay clad on both sides with thick stands of coniferous trees. the grey sky and my footsteps being the only disturbance in the sand gave the beach an eerie but peaceful feel. after that the trail seemed to go on forever, my knees and my arms were weak, but i was thankful for my walking poles.

i arrived at the hut after 8 hours of walking. it sits on a smooth rocky beach with views of the water and smaller islands off the coast. though the waves that land here are gently the noise they make could fool. i can hear them roll onto the shore, crashshshshsh' down the coast and the rumbling of rocks as they roll over each other pulled back out to sea. i am here with a fire built and dry clothes on. the sun has come out and wind picked up. big puffy clouds are floating across the sky. it's time for my dinner.

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