By Anthony Baker, 03 July 2023
So we trudged up to Routeburn Falls hut. Lovely. Walking through snow and all that, quite majestic. Stopped for lunch at Routeburn Flats hut. Bloody freezing, we could feel our fingers getting numb, didn’t stop for long. And then the uphill walk was great, walking through trees with snow balanced on their branches, something out of Narnia. Walked over a couple downed trees where an avalanche had been – or was it a landslide? Hard to say. And then we were at Routeburn Falls hut, not in the flash, expensive lodges, but in the DOC hut with a fine view out to some mountains and two bunk rooms separate from the kitchen/dining space.
There were around 10 of us that first night at the hut, dinner, then, vicious game of mafia, vicious, Ira was unfairly picked upon, again, then Neve read out from some book, she did a good job at the Boston accents.
Next day some eager people – Daniel, Harry, Zita, Jackson, Angelique – headed out to do their own thing, leaving Kate, Jessie, Lilly, Ira, Kanoa, Neve and me. The thing is, when we woke up, Lilly and Kate weren’t feeling too great. A few days before, I had come down with a bit of a cold, and had proceeded to spend time with Lilly and Kate. Despite my best efforts to not spread it to them, I must have. The day before setting out we had hit up a pharmacy in Queenstown and explained that I had cold symptoms and asked for all their best cold medicine, causing a look of horror from the pharmacy staff. But I came away with nurofen, paracetamol, chest congestion tables – and a nasal spray.
Fast forward to the morning we wake up in Routeburn Falls: Lilly and Kate both aren’t feeling well at all. The night before we had talked about a trip up to the lake, I guess this must have been Lake Harris. But this wasn’t going to happen. We weren’t up to much. We moved into the dining space of the hut, taking our warm layers with us. We lay vertical on the wooden benches, disappearing into our sleeping bags. And so our hut day began.
Somewhere along the line we introduced a game called Citadels into the mix, something to keep our minds off our ailments. It was at this point that Kanoa, Ira and Neve dipped out – they set out for the lake in a rush, forgetting their water bottles in their haste (this may have had something to do with Citadels). Those remaining – Lilly, Kate, Jessie and I – barely noticed their absence. We were sunk deep into delirium. I was the drug dispenser, I passed around the nurofen and paracetamol. It wasn’t working. What was needed was something more potent. It was Kate who first asked for the nasal spray. I was horrified, but could see no other option. Needs must. We shared the nasal spray around, it became communal property; we cleaned it between uses with hand sanitiser. It’s all coming back to me now. Kate had such a runny nose she was fast running out of toilet paper.
We decided we needed to do something. We hadn’t come here just to do nothing!! We were keen trampers, activity was our middle name. So we walked about 10 minutes up the track, and took some selfies next to the falls, and decided to call it a day. We headed back inside.
When Kanoa, Ira and Neve arrived back from their expedition, having swum in an ice-cold pool, we were still playing Citadels. They sprinted inside, teeth chattering, to change into something warm and be next to the fire, and we were just still there in the same positions. It was almost as if we hadn’t moved… Only we knew we had.
There is a photo from that night of us sitting around eating our dinners and Lilly looks so out of it, in another dimension. She is staring beyond the horizon to some other place. I had nearly set fire to the table cooking couscous – you can’t trust those dragonfly cookers.
The day was saved by Jackson, who returned from dropping Angelique off to the airport – he returned to us with mulled wine. He stuck cloves in the oranges, added cinnamon sticks to a box of cask wine that he heated with a MSR. He’s more of an expert dragon-fly user than I. The mulled wine was a godsend. We all sat around drinking the wine, feeling at least this kind of warmth. It helped prepare us for a good night’s sleep after this fever-dream of a day.