Anyone else have a body clock where you awaken just moments before an alarm rings out to welcome you into a new day dawned?
Even if it’s still pitch black.
The silence is usually broken with rustling movement from within sleeping bags.
Then the hurried pace to locate the watch so as to turn the ‘beep, beep, beep’ off before it’s timer automatically stops.
The breath is held hoping you didn’t cause fellow bunk roommates to slip from dream to consciousness.
But alas, nope. A shuffle of a bag above or somewhere to your left.
Oh well, might as well get up and put the billy on and take part in observing a hut come to life first thing in the morning.
Yesterday’s attire put back on. Kettles crank up as water is boiled. Then the brew smell of tea or coffee permeates the hut. Whispers become louder as more bodies become vertical. Porridge and muesli overtake the hut odour. Conversation gets louder. Hut doors are open and closed. Folk going out to the ablutions. And back. But more so kept shut to keep the beasties that suck your blood out. Insect repellent smell becomes evident.
And somewhere towards the east, the night sky awakens to go through it’s morning ritual.
There was more forest altitude to climb before it opened up to tussock tops with vista views.
The trail route snailed around a huge rock outcrop known as Rocky Tor that peaked at 1,456 metres.
The spot that is sign posted ‘Heaven’s Door’ was one where you compulsorily stopped to admire the view into the abys. And beyond. The Murchison township was the Mona Lisa centre piece. Perhaps the GPS location where the most photos would be captured on any fine weathered day. To encounter on a shit weather day would be a disappointment.
But I would have to add that the view from the balcony of Ghost Lake Hut was ten-fold better. It was panoramic. It was again as far as the eye could see. As close to heaven as anyone was going to be on the Old Ghost Road Trail. And day two’s stop.
We arrived early as it was only a 12km trek, so we go to consume lunches in awe.
And then sit at a picnic table to play Monopoly cards in the surround sound marvel.
The hut population grew.
Then at some point of the later day, a reverse of the morning ritual just happens as one heads towards shut eye.
Naturally, there is always the comment of “remember to turn off your alarm Ruru” with an acknowledgement response of “Yep, absolutely.”
I live for “Op’s” in the morning.