Wednesday, February 20: A bit of cloud around during the day but nothing really much, not quite as hot as previously, lovely sunset
Swimming: 1200 m
Arawa
Slept in until all was silent, then had the usual breakfast here of cornflakes, toast, added in two fried eggs, orange juice, coffee. Funny how a three-day walk requires next to no preparation, in any case my shopping list was not very long (about the only difference to the kayak tour was surprise peas instead of fresh vege, and sultanas instead of fresh fruit). Ambled into town to fulfill it.
Money was collected @ Westpac whose machine appeared to have been genuinely designed with customers in mind, including a choice of denominations to be dispensed. Went from there to the i-site where I bought a six-month hut pass, then to the supermarket where I collected all I needed. Time for lunch: A barbecue pork pie @ Sweet Pea Café for $4.6, then back here to deal with washing and drying all of the camping gear, which was then strung out on the washing line. Sleeping bag only needed to be aired, otherwise everything else got the water treatment.
I had been arranging with Chris to get him to provisionally repair the leaking s-bend at home (very much a night owl), then with Dempsey’s for tomorrow’s transport. Weather is not looking good for Saturday, so a provisional plan had to be put in place. The sections planned for Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning involve a couple of unbridged river crossings which might become impassable if there were 20 mm of rain as metvuw is predicting. In that case I have an 0800 number for Dempsey’s and they will pick me up from Whakapapa, even if it takes them an hour to get there. Also Jo is amenable to me just turning up on Saturday afternoon for another night.
With the stuff happily drying (and the outer tent dry inside and out) I set off for a round of swimming – asked for a lane to be cordoned off, which was going to be done anyway because of swimming club lessons. The lane marker was a length of garden hose – good example of Kiwi ingenuity. In between the various groups I managed my quota, 250 m as freestyle, only 50 m as backstroke because the hose kept getting in the way of my arms, the remainder as breast stroke. Just a little strenuous as 25 m per length, but there we have it.
Back here I had enough time before dinner to boil the eggs (put in boiling water, wait to reboil, wait 30 s, add ice, reset temperature to 90°, and cook for eight minutes). Will see how this goes. As I write the four eggs and the repackaged cheese fit snugly into the lunchbox, as the egg box is starting to lose its hinges and takes up too much space anyway.
While the eggs were doing their 8-minute stint I emptied the dishwasher, and with all of that out of the way, Jo had offered to take me to the Powder Keg so that I could have a reasonable dinner.
I had contacted Simon earlier in the afternoon, but it appears they are moving out of Railway Row, and didn’t have time, but anyway it was up to the restaurant that played a pivotal role in the last visit here. I had to take up fellow kayakers Sasha and Ross on their offer of a free beer. Was greeted by a possibly Spanish woman who was interested in provoking a curious conversation and then I went directly to Sasha who had survived the journey quite well and was pleased to see me. I demanded my pound of flesh in the form of a large Panhead Super Charger, but was a little surprised (pleasantly) about how it all turned out.
I had a choice of tables and chose a larger one just for fun. The ordered meal was the chicken burger (chicken, brie, avocado, lettuce, tomato, string (i.e. French) fries, with one dip of tomato sauce, and one of aioli, which I didn’t touch. Quite a bunch of stuff, and as I was in the middle of it Sasha appeared to announce that the whole lot was on the house. Which just goes to show.
Chance and necessity. Meeting Gavin in the hardware store and him advising me to buy a second gas bottle (the first one will also be enough for the Round the Mountain Track). Hearing Sasha complain that they had run out of gas. Offering Ross one of the gas bottles if it fitted their equipment. Ross had already improvised a small fire on the shingle bank that night for them to cook. The difference with a gas bottle: Black and white. No need to laboriously build a fire for the morning Joe. Even though they spent just another night on the river it’s the difference that someone makes who notices the opportunity and seizes it. It wouldn’t have been much use for them to ask fellow campers if they had a gas bottle to spare.
But a stranger with a gas can to spare who offers it. That changes everything. No amount of money would change anything, but the right object at the right time. No more accusations of who made what wrong decision. Deliverance. A gas can.
Thinking about criticality, contingency, a free meal, a free beer, all for a gas can, as I wandered back down the hill on a late summer’s eve.
