Herepai
hut
Tuesday 16 May, 2000
You hear the wind first, roaring down from the ridges with a sound like a freight train. Then it hits the hut; buffeting and shrieking around the walls and rattling the panels on the roof. It's a Northerly wind, gusty and inconsistent. Sometimes it's almost calm, and you wonder why you're lying in the hut instead of tramping, but then you hear it again, and you snuggle back into the warmth of your sleeping bag, curling up around yourself as the hut begins to shake.
We came up yesterday, Bill and I. Dad had driven us up from Wellington. I'd sat in the back with Matthew. It was an adventure he'd been waiting for all day. "Grandad's car, Grandad's car" he'd walked around saying excitedly. He'd placed his car seat beside the front door, just so we wouldn't miss it. Going over the Rimutaka hill, I fed him snacks of biscuits, raisins and mandarin, and Bill and Dad and I talked of work and basketball and tramping.
There's always some small anxiety when you start a tramp, and it peaks when when the car that's dropped you off at the roadend disappears around the corner. It was a little worse as I kissed Matty goodbye, but it was too cold and windy to linger over the goodbyes.
We made good time up to Herepai hut yesterday, which bodes well for our fitness. Dinner last night was wonderful — a fresh meat stew and bread, with chocolate pudding and washed down with a cup of tea.
I slept fitfully last night. As well as the wind, it rained, water slapping on the tin roof and walls so loud it woke me with each shower. And I kept having to get up, and pad outside to pee.
This morning I think we both knew in out hearts that we wouldn't be able to go where we wanted. The hut is right on the bushline (around 3000ft) and the whole day would have been spent on the exposed tops. With the wind and rain it would have been miserable at best, dangerous at worst. We actually gave it a go, but turned back after 20 minutes.
So we've spent the day in the hut. Lying in our sleeping bags, eating, reading, writing.
Someone came up on a day trip to the hut from the roadend. He was in his early 50's. As I said to Bill, he's one of a dying breed of trampers. He'd tramped over most of New Zealand, knew the Tararuas like the back of his hand. He talked in a tramping jargon and a NZ way of speech I hadn't really heard in over 15 years. It brought back memories of when I started tramping, and I joined in the conversation easily. He finished his lunch, zipped up his raincoat, and with a "see youse guys later", went back out into wet bush.
He told us the forecast is for a Southerly change and snow. The Southerly is here now, although it's yet to build up. It's starting to get colder though.
We've got a couple of options tomorrow, but, as always, it depends on the weather.
I'm counting down the minutes until we can cook dinner …