“On a Mish” #346 The Windy-Force Valley (Part Three). Wilberforce Valley / River. West Canterbury. 31.8.2022. If I had to choose one aspect of the weather to erase forever it would be the wind. I love watching rain fall almost as much as I love a brilliant bluebird day. You can put on some sunscreen or a rain jacket, but there is no anti-wind device. The breeze can be a foe that won’t go away sometimes, and all you can do is hunker down and hope your shelter makes it to the next day…
What wasn’t secured to the earth was whistling around in the air. At certain points during my short stroll in the very Windy-force Valley, I would encounter small patches of sand. The wind would whip up small particles which would spray my face like a sandy water blaster. You be odd to enjoy this sort of weather, but somehow, I had to draw out a little pleasure from a situation that might be other people’s nightmares. Luckily the Wilberforce is surrounded by grand peaks, and the views outweighed the wind.
It wasn’t long before I longed for a lie down due to my hip and back aching. The cold doesn’t help, and when that coldness is being driven at full speed by a gale it sends a chill down your spine no jacket can fend off. It was time to retreat to the comfort of my semi-protected tent and the warmth of my sleeping bag.
During the night the wind picked up in intensity. I thought it was at its worst when I was awake. However, I was woken at one point by my small rock wall falling over onto my tent. At first, I thought it might have been an animal, but after unzipping my tent I realised it was the wind playing tricks with me. I had to get up to adjust the rocks and, as I did, I had a good look around at the dark world around me. Being in a remote place in weather like this really tickles the senses, and is a reality check as to whether you can handle the weather when out on a mish!
After fixing up my camp I returned to the much-needed warmth, and as it wasn’t too far off sunrise I just dozed until first light. And what a sight! Starting out purple, the eastern skyline went through a rhythmic blend of reds, yellows, and oranges. It was like a proud lion standing with his mane big and bushy. A grand, beautiful and very threatening sight to behold.
I knew there was rain in the forecast so, once the sunrise had settled down, I went to work packing up my campsite. Years of practice with my Marmot Tent meant I had everything packed up and safe in a short amount of time. As the first spits of rain began to fall, I was just packing the last of my gear into the car and clearing away the rocks that had done their best to block the relentless blasts of wind.
What a mish! The Windy-force Valley had lived up to its reputation, and just like the last time I was here with my cousin, the place had tried to remove me with force. But when it is all said and done, to see a sunrise like the one I witnessed that morning is worth putting up with a ‘slight breeze’!
