Day 11 – Pine Valley Hut to Narcissus Hut

---

I wake in the early hours of the night to the sound of the wind roaring through the tree tops above. Down on the first floor is quite sheltered from the wind, which comes in lulls and mighty roaring gusts, but the noise is not conducive to restful sleep, and the trees I’m hanging from give a little shudder now and then.

I decide to try for The Acropolis, despite the high winds. I shovel muesli into my gob, gulp down coffee, and pack up in record time, and get moving. I remind myself that I can always turn around if it gets too hairy.

I climb out of the tree line, and it rises, monolithic and cloud-wreathed before me. The wind is relentless, but not cold at least.

When I get to the rocky climb, it’s somewhat sheltered from the wind, but I know I’m going to round a corner and get it in the face at some point.

On the summit, a localised cloud rips and tears across the dolorite columns and spires, now blanketing the world in grey, now parting to reveal sun parting over the lakes and mountains below. I rug up to prevent the cooling sweat of my climb from plummeting my temperature.

These dolerite columns, which are a feature of the region’s mountains, were formed by magma flow welling up during the break-up of the supercontinent Gondwana, eventually revealed by the erosion of the softer stone above. I think dolerite is a type of granite.

I stay maybe twenty minutes on the exposed peak, first mesmerised by the stunning view, especially of the cloud combing through the fingers of rock, then uploading two days worth of blog posts over a two-bar 4g connection. It works better than expected. I think switching from Boost to Telstra was worthwhile. Though if they want me to shout it from the mountaintops, they’ll have to cough up.

And back down to Pine Valley hut, where I hastily filter another two litres of water, shovel some snacks and peanut butter in my mouth, and get moving. It’s 9km to Narcissus hut, and though it’s sunny, I’m sure there’s weather on the way and I’d like to outrun it if I can.

The sky darkens as I walk.

And back onto the Overland.

I reach Narcissus hut twenty minutes before the rain sets in. Enough time for a bird bath in the river and to see the echidna Chris and Wendy have found that seems inured to human scrutiny.

At first I consider grabbing one of the bunk spaces, but pretty quickly the hut starts to fill up with sodden hikers trickling in. Chris and Wendy, and Daryl, and Michelle and Sheryl are here already. The hut is small, sleeping only eighteen. Not like the big new huts further north at all. I hang my hammock from the verandah and put the tarp up as a weather shield.

More wet hikers arrive. Some from the Overland. Some who come in from hiking Mount Olympus. Two girls arrive late and dangerously cold. the verandah fills up with wet gear. I don’t even want to imagine what it looks like in the bunk room. The four who’ve been up on Mount Olympus fire up an MSR fuel stove, the flames disconcertingly high during the priming process, and worryingly near my hammock. I start to wish I’d set it up in n the forest.

Wendy keeps calling to her husband, Chris, then apologising when my head swivels. I find this hilarious.

I was thinking about sitting out tomorrow in this hut, but it’s not particularly comfortable. I decide I’ll walk out in the morning. I send a satellite message home and get my booking moved forward a day (Thanks so very much Shelle and Faye for messing around with bookings while I merrily traipse through the wilderness). It will be a cold, wet walk out, but at the end of it is a hot meal and a hot shower.

Everyone is making plans for what the first thing they’re going to eat back in civilisation is. The hamburgers at Lake St Clair feature highly. I’m a little jealous of the people I’ve been walking with who are going back to warm houses tomorrow, but that’s just the weather talking. Soon it will be warm again, and I’ll be happy to be out walking.

I sit around as the light dims, waiting for the verandah to clear off so I can go to bed. Soon I get my wish, and I’m lulled to sleep by the muffled sounds of a hut crammed full to the gunnels and the sound of snoring seeping through the rough timber walls.