Arriving at our night-stop today a way marker signpost was spotted on an adjacent track. A look at Open Cycle Map suggested that it led to a hut about a mile up the hill, so once we had settled Bertie into his parking slot and I'd done a bit of research into tomorrow's ferries, I delegated food prep to Mick, clad myself in full Paramo (it has been raining all day and is showing no signs of letting up), and went to investigate.
It wasn't long before I saw that my route lay up this:
Alas, in the conditions, and with my lack of photography skills, none of my snaps can possibly do justice to how incredible the surrounds were.
Over vast scoured slabs of (fortunately very grippy) rock I went, following waymarkers:
In the dips lay pools of water, with little streamlets running between them:
And the view back the way I'd come, over the fjord, was pretty fine too:
The hut, when it came into view, was truly grin-worthy, sitting on a slight raise down in a dip in the landscape, surrounded by a river of snowmelt:
The hexagonal hut blends into its surroundings nicely, but it is in this snap.
As much as I would have liked to go for a closer look, I didn't think it wise to try to cross the water - plus it was tea time and I was hungry - so I turned tail and went back the way I had come.
Enthusing about how wonderful a little walk it had been, Mick wasted no time in donning his running gear and set off at a trot as I set about cooking. A subsequent comparing of notes has confirmed that we were both quite taken with the outing, even if it was only a mile each way with around 150m of ascent. A fine way to end a day of driving.
It wasn't long before I saw that my route lay up this:
Alas, in the conditions, and with my lack of photography skills, none of my snaps can possibly do justice to how incredible the surrounds were.
Over vast scoured slabs of (fortunately very grippy) rock I went, following waymarkers:
In the dips lay pools of water, with little streamlets running between them:
And the view back the way I'd come, over the fjord, was pretty fine too:
The hut, when it came into view, was truly grin-worthy, sitting on a slight raise down in a dip in the landscape, surrounded by a river of snowmelt:
The hexagonal hut blends into its surroundings nicely, but it is in this snap.
As much as I would have liked to go for a closer look, I didn't think it wise to try to cross the water - plus it was tea time and I was hungry - so I turned tail and went back the way I had come.
Enthusing about how wonderful a little walk it had been, Mick wasted no time in donning his running gear and set off at a trot as I set about cooking. A subsequent comparing of notes has confirmed that we were both quite taken with the outing, even if it was only a mile each way with around 150m of ascent. A fine way to end a day of driving.
One sees lots of people buying motorhomes and only using them a couple of times a year for a week or so. You are doing what a lot of people only dream about, and MAKING IT HAPPEN.
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