- Time
- 3-4 days
- Grade
- Moderate/Difficult
- Accom.
- Tin Hut (private), Top Timaru Hut, Stodys Hut, Pakituhi Hut
- Access
- Birchwood Rd car park, Gladstone Reserve, Timaru River Rd Grade: Tramping track
Ignoring the physio's advice and continuing with a sprained ankle isn't the best idea when heading deep into the Otago high country, discovers Jonathan Carson
I didn’t know it yet, but I shouldn’t have been here, standing on the roadside in Lake Tekapo with my thumb out for a ride south. I had limped into town the day before to rejoin Ben, a great friend who I had been hiking the length of the country with for three months, loosely following the Te Araroa Trail. It was a return from injury following two weeks of resting and restlessness with a sprained ankle. “Take it easy for four to six weeks,” the physiotherapist had said. No way, man, I thought. I’d been off the trail too long already. Besides, the worst of Te Araroa was behind us now - or so I thought. It didn’t take long to catch a ride. Garrick, who runs the famous Cinema Paradiso in Wanaka, pulled up in his old truck and told us to hop in. It was a 90 minute drive on State Highway 8, through South Canterbury’s golden hills that once moved with rabbits, and past Lake Pukaki and Lake Ohau, giant bowls of electric blue that reflected newly snow-dusted mountains. Garrick said he had hiked to Breast Hill and back from the southern end in a day. “How was it?” we asked. “She’s pretty bloody steep,” he warned. “You boys’ll be alright, though.” Garrick dropped us at Birchwood Rd, a gravel farm track that leads to I-don’t-know-where. The start of the track is about 11km along it. After trudging for a half hour or so two cars, spitting dust and stones, came rumbling behind us. “Should we?” I asked Ben. “Yeah, alright.” We chucked our thumbs out and flashed smiles. The occupants were cautious folk and sized us up good and proper. “There’s not much room,” one said. “We can squeeze in,” we assured them. They fumbled for another excuse before settling on “oh, okay then”. It was mid-afternoon by the time we got started on the track and we knew we wouldn’t cover the 23km to the first hut, Top Timaru Hut, before dark. We’d be sleeping in our tent, we thought. The trail begins across Longslip Station and follows a fence from behind which trophy deer gawk curiously at visitors. My ankle felt good on the gentle farm track and tussock grasses, but occasionally a wrong footing would send a sharp jolt through my body. I had to watch every step. But it felt good to be walking again, breathing real air on a cloudless afternoon. Without the promise of a roaring fire to dry our gear that evening, we took our boots off to ford Avon Burn, a thigh-high catchment that was flowing swiftly after a week of rain and snow. Soon after we encountered a tramper who told us she and a group of friends, who were lagging behind, had walked to the hut for lunch. “The hut?” we asked. “Yeah, there’s an old private hut about five k’s back,” she said. “The door’s unlocked, I think it’s okay to stay there.” [caption id="attachment_3857" align="aligncenter" width="1280"]

