“On a Mish” #305 Camping in a Blizzard (Part Three). Whiskey Trail. Fiordland National Park. 13.10.2021. There has been the odd occasion when I have tramped into wild weather with the intention of enjoying the experience. It seems strange to some that I would actively wander into a storm, but when done the right way the mish becomes something that will stay with you the rest of your days. It is excellent that these days we have clothing and shelters designed to withstand rain, hail, and snow, so why not put them to the test? On a mission on to the Livingstone Mountain tops I not only tested the limits of my broken body, but I also put a lot of faith in a tent that had got me through some rather exciting nights…
After getting to a good camping spot, I had to have a break and let my soreness settle before setting up my tent. The chill in the air and very dark clouds looming to the south of me shortened my sit down, and the thought of getting out of the wind and into my Marmot Tungsten was enough to get me moving again. The wind was doing its best to prevent me erecting my tent, however the fact I have put it up so many times before meant I could almost do it with my eyes closed! In no time I had a place to sit which was comfortable, out of the wind, and where I could regather my thoughts.
It didn’t take long for me to realise that the wind was going to bash one side of my tent all night long. Normally I would find rocks and set up a wind break, but with everything buried in snow and ice rocks weren’t an option. I had to rethink my windbreak and I then realised I was surrounded by material that could be shaped into the creation I required. Snow was going to work with me instead of against me.
I began to build my wall with my hands, and I instantly knew that that was a bad idea. I wanted to use my hands (fingers) later so, just like when I changed my camping spot plan earlier, I had to come up with an idea. I jumped into my tent to escape the cold and make a hot drink and it was while the water warmed that I realised I had the perfect tool with me. My cooking pot was going to be my snow shovel.
After a re-energizing warm cup of tea, I went to work. I discovered that I could scoop up some snow, pack it hard into my pot, and when I took it out it would be a nice brick shape. It didn’t take long for me to find a rhythm and for my wall to start to look like something that would prevent any wind spoiling my party. At this stage I had views all around me (apart from the wall of black cloud to the south), and every time I had a break from building my wall, I marvelled at the stunning land only a short drive away from where I lived. Buying a house in Te Anau was a bloody good idea!
My scoop, pack, place session went on for about an hour and then my back said, ‘no more work for today’. It was pretty good timing really, because not long after I jumped into my tent for the last time the weather turned up a notch, and within a period of about twenty minutes a little bit of wind turned into a full-on blizzard which was going to show me how good my tent really was…
