Cedar Flats trip with the Trampingclub
Once upon a time, let's say at 10th July 2002, 7am six terrestrials met at the UCSA carpark to cross the southern Alps with the intention to find hot pools 20km easterly of the west coast. A stop on the arthurs pass was enriched by a kea, hopping around the toilet there. Once over the pass, the sudden change of the vegetation hit us. The grassy slopes besides the street were replaced by heavy forest. Just the foggy clouds we drove through restricted a little bit the view to the right and the left, imagination did the rest. After some steep sharp bends and some flat kilometers the waves of the sea came in sight, reason enough to do another short stop.
Two curiosities are on the way there:
A bakery in Hokitika provided us with food for lunch.
The last few 100 Meters scraped a little bit at the bottom of the cars.
After hours of sitting in the cars it was time to move. Moving through bush and mud till a decision had to be done: A sign told us that the track along the river was washed out and you should use the flood route. The flood route was heading up and it didn't look exactly like a shortcut. We decided we felt like an adventure.
"Washed out" was the right expression. Suddenly the track stopped dead at a 20 Meter high cliff. The wall was a mixture out of grvel, soil and stones, but eventually we found a way down. There was a little bit of climbing on moving stones, but not too spectacular.
Than another desicion: wet boots or spending the time to get rid of them and tie them again? I decided for dry boots, Cris Forne showed us the third possibility: Beeing carried
The river bed exited our geologist, I although found a cool stone.
Eventually, the hut came in sight. It looked like you can just follow the river to get there. But not without wet boots. So I turned around to follow the sign which Natascha discovered and leaded to the very dynamically bridge over the river.
And it felt so good to be at the hut and getting rid of the heavy backpack.
Hotpools: The magic word for a tramper. A sign on the other side of the bridge showed the way. But hot? No, not really. Warmpools is the better expression. Just some spots were hot, not enough to keep one person comfortable. And we all did one mistake: We forgot to take a torch with us (but we all survived).
At night we had a vist from a possum. It found a spot with some rice - leftovers besides the outside watertank where we did our dishes. I was able to take some photos with my SLR. Just when I wanted to use my digital camera it felt to disturbed by the traffic of the toilet-goers and tooth-brushers. So here a photo I took at Lake Daniells:
© Rafael Bräg