Swing bridgeover the Boyle River

This is no.2 swing bridge, although today as we retrace our footsteps it's the first one we cross. I don't know how John tramps with bare legs.

A cooler day today, and my upper half needed another layer. For hpx that means merino t-shirt, long sleeved merino and a light fleece. Toasty.

Toast couldn't be said for the world outside the hut, our water supply had frozen so down to the river it was. But nothing was frozen inside the hut. I can confirm it was a cold shock when my bum connected with the toilet seat in the long drop ;-)

We cruised along. This trip has passed through beech forest and tussock land. DOC has done a fine job of chain sawing through unbelievable amounts of tree damage (last months snow fall and this months storm of rain and wind). In places it's like a giant's hand has swept ancient beech trees aside like match sticks.

Future weekend trips were planned, the wrongs of the world put right and a few epic trips dreamed to the edge of reality.

4 hours later we were back at the car. Now to turn my attention to the remaining debris, washing and what I need to start the working week tomorrow.

Yesterday's negotiating the washout