“On a Mish” #319 Stubborn Love (Part Three). Falls Creek. Fiordland National Park. 22.2.2022. The drive found in the wilderness can be a very powerful experience. The longing to see more can get you through some challenging situations. In some cases it is not only the call of the wild required for the challenge, sometimes a strong sip of stubbornness will also be needed in order to get you through the challenge…
With one hand bandaged and wearing a cleaning glove like someone who is super cautious about Covid, I began my adventure up the Falls Creek Track. Luckily I was able to sneak onto the trail before anyone saw me.
I’d been on the track and up to the head of the valley back in 2018 so I had a reasonable idea of what the track was like. Starting steep, the track weans out walkers who thought they’d be able to catch a view without much effort. Although I knew what was ahead of me it seemed much steeper than I remembered and thanks to my hip and back I was moving much slower than the previous trip. Slow and steady was going to be the theme of this mish.
A hanging valley is one that is a step up from the main valley below, andthe step up to Falls Creek is a bloody big one! I had to stop many times to readjust my bandaged/gloved hand and also to rest. Peering through the trees I could see the seemingly endless cliffs of Mt Christina, and with each stop I could see more of the stunning queen of the Upper Hollyford Valley.
Eventually I dragged myself over the lip of the hanging valley and to a point where I spotted a camping spot. To be honest it was the first flat place I saw beside the river, and thanks to storm damage I could clamber my way over downed trees to a grassy area. I hadn’t done anything this hard for a long time and even though I hadn’t hiked very far I was feeling the strain of a big hike. I had a long break before I set up my campsite.
My evening was spent chilling out checking out the sights available above the dense Fiordland jungle. Although I was sore, I was very happy with everything except my broken bits.
Early-ish the next morning I was up knowing I had a short and yet long hike ahead of me. After having a brew of go juice and packing up my damp tent I re-bandaged my hand and put another cleaning glove on.
Just like the day before, slow and steady was key, plus I took many breaks. These breaks gave me the reverse view of Mt Christina, and this meant the colossal cliffs seemed to grow as I dropped down into the Upper Hollyford Valley.
I got to the valley floor and as I made my way towards my car I passed a couple of tourists who probably wondered where this pack-wearing single-gloved hiker had come from. I got to my car and after all of my gear was packed I had one more rest before I began the drive home. It was on the drive that I had a chance to really appreciate where I had got to and a lot of it was thanks to my stubborn love for Fiordland and everything found there when on a mish!
