10th April 2023 – By Candis Hawkins
If you read Euan’s post first you’ll get a better understanding of the part of this trip that explains how to get to the start and the conditions up to Mid Robinson Hut.
So, I haven’t done any walking since my summer trip to Nelson Lakes to do Travers-Sabine, I’m looking at the club trips and think ‘yeah OK’ Easter, Lake Christabel – Sounds good. Listen to the name of this lake ‘Christabel’ I am conjuring up images that are soft, and spring like and easy ambling round a lake talking sh#t with likeminded people, laughing, and having a good time all jolly and convivial. Little did I know…
Day 1 Leaving Home to Mid Robinson
7am, I walk from my house to meet the guys at the BP car park in Hokitika, I haven’t walked with any club members before, I’m looking forward to this trip, but also nervous that I will be to unfit, not able to keep the pace and etc etc as I’m used to solitary bush missions or with friends who already know each other’s rhythms. Trip Leader Brent talks through the map and we all talk some chit-chat and we’re off. 2.5 odd hours later we’re at the track start – Brent, Candis, Euan, Graeme, and Henry the dog begin the trek from Palmers road end to Mid Robinson hut.
It’s farmland then to riverbed to out of riverbed, to into riverbed to out of riverbed to into riverbed, got it? Oh and some wash outs and track loss and no markers and river bed and out of riverbed. On some flats we pass a hunter with a deer head on his back, it’s that time of year. The Roar. He takes his trophy off to talk to us and Henry decides he wants the head for himself, the hunters dog guards the trophy and Euan, Graeme and the hunter guide their dogs to relax. Henry needs go on the lead for a bit, incase he decides that the trophy really will be his….
We arrive at the hut around 6hours after we started. Lighting the fire, eating Back Country, and settling in for the night. It’s just at this time when the hut has become quiet and peaceful, some late cold tramper rolls in the door! And we have a guest, a guest with an indefinable accent who has come in from Top Robinson, at 9pm it’s good night nurse.
Day 2 Mid Robinson to Top Robinson
Euan, Graeme, and Henry have decided to can it and cruise back out today, in discussion the night before I am conflicted – To cruise out or to carry on? When faced with these options my first inclination is normally YES! I’m out! Swimming pools and hotels on! But not this time, I choose to carry on with Brent. Today is an up and over the saddle, climb from 600m to 1400m, I reflect to Travers saddle, which is 670m to 1787m, thinking ‘Yeah that’s doable’ I can do that.
At 8am we’re off, and we’re up, straight up, it’s a bush bash but no harder than Mt. Tahua or Mt. Brown, (so it’s a hard and it’s a bush bash mish) but the difference is I AM F.N un-fit ! I am puff puff puff in stuff and wish I’d have gotten motivated when my brother kept sending me snaps of training for hunting season. ‘Yeah, tomorrow I’ll start’ but I didn’t, and tomorrow came and tomorrow was this day, and I was huffing and puffing like things that huff and puff…
Brent is a good trip leader though and patiently waits for me to catch-up. To get to the top it’s bush bash, bush bash, bush bash some more, which is good for the bird life that we have come to disturb the ground to give them some easy lunch, Robins galore. Then we’re out, it’s the nice open tops, a few hunters around, hear a couple of roars, it’s cold, windy and have run out of water, eye a couple of tarns although upon closer inspection they are bit to grubby. I’ll wait for the fresh stream thanks.
Bush bash bush bash bush bash through the overgrown lower scrubland to get back into the beach forest to arrive at the Top Robinson Hut 6hours later (Brent is a much faster walker than me and could have smashed these arrival times by hours, so don’t take my clock to mean anything other than the time it took in this instance).
The hut is an icebox, Brent gets the fire going and its hut time relax mode… Then 2 cold trampers burst in on dusk! And 2 more! And then 6 more cold trampers a bit after sundown. A family of Mum, Dad, Grandparents & young children. Dad is annoyed at the hut being a ‘Sauna’ and proceeds to open all the windows. I am annoyed at all the heat being lost, and I close them. Halfway. In compromise, but I am thinking HOW RUDE! HUH! OFFENDED. Good times in the Back Country. Grandma is fascinating and I am always amazed at kids in the outdoors.
Day 3 Top Robinson to Lake Christabel
Sweep the hut, clean the fire, leave hut 8:15am.
F! SLAP! WHAT THE F!? F! RUN!!!!!
This isn’t how the day started; however, it is near how it ended.
There is a 3-wire swing bridge with house type ladders attached at either end, it’s near on dusk, Brent crosses over first & waits for me at the other side. I won’t be able to climb the ladder carrying poles, so I faf around putting them in my pack before climbing the ladder, just as I get to the other end and haven’t yet descended the ladder; yelling – F! WHAT THE F!? RUNNNNN!!!! I’m like what!? What!? What!? WASPs F.N GO!! I am still on the ladder and step down into a violent swarming wasp attack, I am being stung royally and screaming my head off, like full on screaming like the shower scene in Psycho, the pain is intensive and I don’t know what to do, I am running and falling and screaming and Brent is pushing me, I am being stung on my legs, my arms, my hands, my chest, my butt, my ankles – they are stinging through my clothes, on my bare skin. I am freakin’ out and don’t know what to do, when we are far enough away, I rip my pack off, my gaiters, my top, I feel like they have covered every inch of my body. I am adrenalised and in pain.
It starts to rain, it’s dusk, we’re still 3km to the hut. We’re going to have to take a walk in the dark. Head torches out, we rest on the riverbank before pushing through. At 7:30pm we burst into the hut and disrupt the peace and quiet of the already wound down resting trampers. Brent shares beer and Easter eggs with me, Leisl is supposed to be meeting Brent here, she’s not here yet and doesn’t arrive through the night. The Starlink OneNZ deal will be a good thing in situations like this. It definitely won’t be a good thing for anything else IMO. The perils of tramping.
Day 4 Lake Christabel to Palmers Road Out
The morning starts late, my dickie knee has been giving me grief, it’s stiff and painful in the night, I shuffle around the hut hoping like hell that’s going to warm up enough to be able to bend. We leave the hut at 8:45am. The mist clears. The Lake is in view. It’s beautiful, taken in with quiet contemplation and appreciation. No power boats, no kayakers, nothing. Isolated. Quiet. But it doesn’t last, we part from the lake are ready tackle the final day. What to say? What to say? Well, now in short, this day is F.D! Or in another frame we could use the words ‘character building’
– Major track wash outs
– Major lack of markers
– Major bush bashing
– Major knee pain
– More wasps nests
– Real West Coast Rain
– Thunderclap rainstorms
– Cold wet damp EVERYTHING
– More walking in the dark
– Snaping my walking pole clean in half
– Tripping stumbling, falling, scraping, cutting
– Losing the track, finding the track, loosing the track finding the track
I am not even nearly able to articulate what the F! happened on this day. It’s just one of those days in the outdoors, that if you’ve been there you know, and if you haven’t stick it out long enough, take risks, stretch your comfort zone and you’re bound to find out.
End: 8:30pm Palmers Road
Trampers – Candis Hawkins & Brent Robinson
