Five girls stand on a rock, as naked as the day they were born. At the same time I am sitting on the biv’s shitter. The door is not closed, in fact, there is no door. There aren’t even any walls. In this vulnerable state I contemplated how my life choices had led me to this moment.
“Don’t worry Sam, none of us girls are hot enough for you to have anything to worry about”.
Rewind to Sunday night. I was getting stone walled by some folk who said they were keen to tramp Monday/Tuesday. This was a bugger of a thing because the forecast was a real beaut. Undeterred I flicked Jakob a message because I swear that guy is never able to turn down a good tramp. My hypothesis proved correct and by 9am the following day we were barreling towards Mt Cook under clear blue skies. If you’re ever looking on Apple Maps in the Twizel area keep an eye out for Suzi, we did our best to stick our tongues out for the camera.
I had managed to condense everything I needed into a 40L pack, leaving anything bulky to carry to Jakob as he needed the exercise. We could tell from the moment we set off that it was going to be a warm one and oh boy did it follow through on that one. It was a simple march down the Hooker Valley Track to begin with, passing the odd clump of domestic tourists rambling along…
