Like a masterful mystery novel, the beauty and secrets of the trail slowly unfold.
The river. Oh wow, the river!
Firstly, I awoke very unrested. Couldn’t sleep. My body was protesting a little. The long walk, without my usual “walk down”. The legs felt hot and my feet ached.
The good thing was that I slipped into what I call “hiker unconsciousness”. It’s something I have noticed over time. An incredible ability to recall memory. Things that you haven’t thought about in years, the most obscure things, in the greatest of detail. I expect it is possible because the brain is clear of clutter. I haven’t seen anybody for a couple of days (well, apart from the Tinkler). I’ve had no signal, so no real communication with the outside world. It’s just been me, and the hike. And I think that in this space of simplicity, the mind has the capacity to recall in amazing, stunning clarity. It’s very cool. Your own little time machine.
I got up, body mended, and had my first proper look around the campsite. Large, white sandstone cliffs. One directly opposite, and one a little further up the river. The feel of it is incredible. Old as time. Wise, if that’s a feeling a river can give. An entity. What a place!
It’s drizzling, but I pack up and get moving. The walk is incredible, paralleling the clifftop with amazing views of the river. It’s so wild. I see flocks of geese, at home both swimming and flying. Gangs of gang gangs squawking in battalions, tracking from one side of the river to the other. Parrots and wrens and robins, all trackside. It is breathtaking.
I’m really happy that I did the long walk yesterday, so I could enjoy the spoils of the walk today. The river is like a serpentine beast, scaled on either side in thick limestone armour. A colourful and ancient cloak.
The walk weaves its way into Nelson and I let myself into my home for the next couple of nights. So far, it has been challenging, but really good. Spectacular today. It makes me excited for what’s to come. But first. First, a well deserved rest.
Enjoy a hot shower, sleeping in a (hopefully) comfortable bed and a bit of dry space.