Day 21: West Sabine Hut to Blue Lake Hut
Trip notes from my journey across the South Island with my little blue boat. Which is actually a packraft. With lots and lots of (too much) hiking between the water. Here we are, in Nelson Lakes.
My breakfast cereal with water on it had a funny taste that I didn't twig until the final few mouthfuls: chilli. That was definitely chilli coming through, spicing up my Great Start. It must've infiltrated my fold-flat cup-bowl during last night's dinner.
I stepped outside to gather some wood to leave in the shed and immediately noticed a black bird with a green colourful tinge, high up in a tree. I took one step too close and it and its partner - who had been in another nearby tree - took flight away from me. They began singing from their new location and I realised they were tūī. I don't think I've seen them in this kind of high terrain before.
The sun was creeping up above the mountains, its rays finally colliding with the soaked grass and shrubs left after the night’s downpour. I left the hut, began the hiking and immediately had to cross back over the same swing bridge, repeating my awkward shuffle off it in reverse at the other end.
I joined the track to Blue Lake, which takes walkers through a mossy forest, with tree roots to negotiate and lots of boulders to hop over on the floor. After just a few minutes, I reached the first of many avalanche paths, marked by a red sign. It's recommended you move swiftly through these zones, so I stopped for a snack and a taste of the clear-running river water, before going on.
This one was only 375 metres long, so I exited it swiftly. However further up the track was a double zone of 700 metre, which actually had the remnants of two avalanches across it. One lay over the track, forcing me to clamber up the slope to cross above it and then come back down the other side. I'd never seen an avalanche up close before. Rather than white, like snow, its contents was more a grey colour, with lots of mud and dried tussock blades strewn all over the top of it. The parts of it nearest the river sat dripping, hollowed out underneath, so you definitely didn't want to walk on it.
Aside from the multiple red-sign danger zones, the track basically meanders beside the clear and loudly flowing river. After hurriedly leaving the final avalanche site, I climbed briefly to a flat area with a neat boardwalk which crosses a very still pond. Its base was pure mud, while a layer of crystal clear water sits on top of it - presumably brought up by spring. The tranquility against the constantly crashing river was welcome and I took a moment to enjoy this peace offering, set in front of the snowy mountains, the source of the avalanche I had just crossed.
One short but steep climb later and I was at Blue Lake Hut. Without thinking, I kept my pack on and continued down the path to witness Rotomairewhenua - the lake itself - believed to contain the clearest water in the world (no, I wasn't going to paddle on it!).
I bounded down the track, full of anticipation for this natural wonder. After a right turn, to follow a slender track among some tussock, this championed water mass began to shuffle into view. The sun was beating down, maximising its supreme clarity. Depending where I fixed my gaze, I saw a mix of blue, submerged greens and near-transparency. Here I was, looking at the clearest water in the world.
Back at the hut, it was apparent that Blue Lake and its surroundings are located inside a very efficient sun trap. I removed my sweaty t-shirt, used the outdoor sink to handwash my clothes, then sat at the outdoor pub table, in the baking sun, writing this.
Happy to be where I am, out in this incredible location, but I’m still desperately unhappy while moving. And moving takes up most of every single day. Carrying a boat that never gets used, across a route that's essentially Te Araroa, with limited other pathway options south, is getting tedious. Why do something if you don't enjoy it? Can I modify things to make it more appealing?
I had the hut entirely to myself, the world’s clearest water just yonder in a lake, yet I needed to find more clarity.
