“On a Mish” #97 My Hip and the Havelock Valley (Part Four). Havelock Valley. Hakatere Conservation Park. 20.5.2020. It is sometimes hard to explain the feeling you get when you are mid mish, and all is going exactly how you planned it. The entertainment is quietly taking care of tasks like lighting a fire or pitching your tent, and every so often you simply look around. And that is when you get the special feeling like no other. The bumpy road that was 2020 started with me losing my ability to go on big adventures, and with that being such a major part of my existence I felt like I would never get that feeling again. If you can’t hike very far and still want a taste of the outdoors, what do you do?
The difference between lockdown and let out was immense. The confinement of home seems a long way away when you are looking at a truck bellied up on a big boulder. Our perfect camping spot by the big waterfall didn’t look as good anymore. When all seemed lost the Jimny jumped into action (almost literally), and after a battle we managed to rock the truck off the rock. It was a close call, and it made us much more cautious from there on.
We returned to the floor of the Havelock Valley and regained the track towards Mistake Flat. The track crossed and then recrossed a braid of the river near a big bluff, and it was just beyond this that it entered a beautiful patch of beech forest. At this point we didn’t realise that this would be our home for the night.
Not far from the forest we got to the ford point of Murphy’s Stream. The rushing water and rounded rocks seemed like a battle we didn’t have the strength for, so with that we returned to the forest and looked for a place to call home for the night. We quickly found the perfect little patch of grass beside the river which seemed almost too easy when compared with what we had been up against so far. It was like the valley had watched our progress and rewarded our hard work with an easy camping spot right beside the two most important camping components, water and wood.
We set up camp and then gathered wood for an almighty blaze under the bright stars. My hip felt like ship with a T, but I’ll take a night out in the open air of a remote valley over my bedroom any day of the week!
Early-ish the next day we woke to a heavy frost. There is nothing like an elevated environment on a chilly morning. As light was slowly introduced to the valley, I watched the coolness creep in. In around an hour the area had changed from browns, yellows and greys, to crisp, frozen and twinkling white. Some despise the cold while I encourage it!
The rest of the mish was retracing our steps back down the valley. At Carneys Creek we had figured that, because we got through the first time, the return trip would be much easier. We were wrong. Just like on the hike in, many times we were so close to easier ground only to be stopped by the big boulders of the creek itself. But just like on the way in, one look around at where we were and the problem of forward movement just became part of the adventure!
What a mish! I am extremely grateful to my cousin for getting me out into the outdoors again. The trip up the Havelock reignited the flame for going on adventures, and it wouldn’t be long before we would be back at it up the Wilberforce Valley. The trips aren’t the best for my broken bits, but for my mental health they are a must. Movement is a gift that should be utilized at every moment possible. My hip and the Havelock Valley might be at opposites to each other, but when you combine to two the issue seems to disappear… until the inevitable return to the real world!
