I don't know which got the greater workout today, my legs or the camera. Probably my legs - I was pretty exhausted by the time I finished, in a way I haven't been since the 2200m day on the Motutapu. Certainly it was the most technically difficult day on trail, the most tiring mentally, and up there with the Motutapu day physically.
But I get ahead of myself. I had another fairly sleepless night last night, which is confusing - I was tired enough after a biggish day's walking yesterday and a sleepless night the night before. I'm carrying a bit of a cold picked up from home, but I doubt it's that - I just have a runny nose and not much else. Perhaps the prospect of Waiau Pass today was concerning me.
Starting off up valley it didn't feel like I was climbing, but given the river was a raging torrent beside me, I must have been.
After an hour or so the pass was revealed. If looked very bluffy.
Moving up river there was some difficult loose scree to traverse dropping away at 30+ degrees down to the river. As I made my way across numerous stones and boulders would cascade into the Waiau 20 meters below me. It made for nervous, exhausting and dangerous times. It took me 15 minutes to get across 100 metres of it, and this was still on approach to beginning the proper climb!
As the steeper stuff towards the pass began, the Waiau River was now less that than just a series of spectacular cascades. It made quite the place to celebrate crossing the 1000km milestone.
The pass was a formidable sight; an unbroken line of enormous cliffs and bluffs with no immediately discernable easy, or even safe, line of attack.
However the lower 400 meters of climbing turned out to be not so bad. The top 400 meters was much more technical though, at least in a tramping sense. I'd probably characterise it as low grade rock climbing; requiring careful line selection, 3 points of contact, thought given to hand holds, the odd toe jam and even a mini chimney. Difficult stuff with a heavy pack on. Fortunately it was good, stable rock and not slippery. The exposure was also pretty minimal. Nevertheless the concentration required here actually made the effort of climbing easier - the meters to the top melted away through this section.
I reached the top in time for lunch, once again on the main divide and this time also on the dividing line between Canterbury and the Nelson Lakes, and at 1880m the second highest point on trail.
I was able to enjoy views south down the Waiau Valley, where I had come from...
...and north down to Lake Constance which I would shortly be dropping down to.
The descent was largely scree. I expected an easy drop down to the valley floor by skiing it. These plans dissolved when I ended up on my bum 2 or 3 times, then in an uncontrolled slide with a mildly banged up elbow and a massive hole in the bum of my shorts. It was just too steep and reluctantly I went back to knee bashing down the track. I was pleased to reach the valley floor.
After a swim to dust off in Lake Constance I continued on, up onto some bluffs skirting high above the lake. This was difficult travel after the arduous pass, albeit provided some great views down to the lake.
Across the lake there is an enormous scarp where a large part of Mt Franklin has at some point in the past few thousand years fallen to the valley floor, blocking it and forming the lake. The trail goes across the literal mountain of stone that fell, and washed wave like up the other side of the valley. If you ever wanted to know what the inside of a mountain looks like, here you go.
From the edge of the scarp I had a view of the ethereal Blue Lake. Lake Constance, a couple of hundred meters above it, does not have an outflow point. Instead there is a spring in the scree wall that blocks Constance, which then flows into Blue Lake. This scree filtering results in exceptionally clear water. In fact Blue Lake has recently replaced Pupu Springs as having the greatest clarity in the world. It has been measured as having a view distance of 80 meters, theoretically the same as pure distilled water. If you ask me the recently discovered Lake Vostock, or whatever it is called, down in Antarctica, which has been covered in ice for millions of years would have to be clearer, but I guess maybe they haven't measured it yet. Certainly both Lake Constance and the Blue Lake are clear enough to be able to easily pick out individual rocks lying on the lake bed, when perched high above them.
And so to the hut and a much needed rest. I sewed my shorts up. How to describe my sewing skills? Let's just say that if I was a surgeon my patients would be left with horribly disfiguring scars. Needless to say my shorts are now looking decidedly second hand.
After hard yakka over the pass yesterday, I had been planning a zero day today. After a good sleep I woke to rain, but was feeling good. Normally you might see a day of rain as a chance to hunker down in a hut. However I'd been looking forward to enjoying the lake and the upper Sabine River (Blue Lake is the source for the Sabine). With a day of rain that was now off the cards, and with the hut quickly filling up with easter trampers in early afternoon I decided to head down valley a tad to make tomorrow's walk (another climbing day) shorter.
Not more than a minute later there was a peel somewhat like thunder from high on Mt Franklin. I knew immediately what it was - a boulder had dislodged high on the mountain, anything up to a thousand meters above me - and was heading my way. As the noise grew I backed off watchfully in the probably futile hope that I might be able to dodge it if it came close. With an explosion of noise and water it dropped into the river 50 meters in front of me, sending a plume up to 20 meters into the air. With wide eyes I double timed out of there.
Large side streams were careering into the Sabine with little run-out, requiring a lot of care in their crossing - definitely not the place to lose footing!
I was pleased to see the hut!
