Tigers for punishment that we are, we set off after breakfast for the
walk about Lake Sylvan. This suggests it is a walk around the lake; it is not.
The two hour walk which starts at yet another swing bridge over the Routeburn
River leads one through old moraine river terraces and very old tall red beech
to the lake, and then back along a long abandoned 1920s tramline loop. Even
today, almost one hundred years on, some of the “sleepers” are still evident
and the timber was then not treated as it is today!
We saw kaka, fantails, South Island Robins and Riflemen, and heard
bellbirds far up in the tree canopies. Massive trees have fallen since we were
last through, and some so recently that the trunks still lie across the track.
The pathway sometimes takes one the length of a fallen log and mostly along
paths uneven with roots. Here the soil must be quite shallow because the
buttress roots are large and tenuous on their hold, disrespectful of the needs
of the clumsy walker. We noted more than one tree that must have been quite rotten
when it fell, and the impact of the fall has shattered it to pieces.
Yesterday we read that the long tailed bats or pekapeka live in the rot holes of old beech trees, unlike their
Australian cousins who like to hang upside down in public view. Apparently up
to two hundred can roost inside any one tree; this we found amazing! Today we
wondered whether any of these marvellous old trees was home to a whanau of pekapeka.
I was particularly delighted when we paused to “chat” to a friendly
Robin, and to attempt the inevitable photograph. He was as inquisitive as we
were, and when I crouched down and scratched lightly on the ground, he came up
and darted his strong little beak onto my fingers. In fact, “delighted” just
does not describe my response to this amazing experience; my skills as a
word-smith are inadequate.
At the lake we paused to enjoy the scene, rather dull today because of
the cloudy skies forecasted to bring rain by the afternoon. There is now a
viewing platform at the lake edge, but aside from that, access to the lake and
any “beach” is limited, and even when you do find a nice looking spot, would
you want to hang around long enough for the sand-flies to find you?
Back at the camp, we lunched and filled with water, assuming that
without a “Do not drink this water” sign, it must be potable. Then it was time
to leave this lovely little DOC camp, a vast improvement on that at Twelve Mile
Delta, and head south, this time down the western side of Lake Wakatipu to Kinloch
which I mentioned in a recent posting in relationship to steamer boat access in
bygone years.
On the road down we passed a helicopter operating base, albeit very
temporary and here we saw the massive plastic toilet waste tanks that DOC bring
down from the loos up on the alpine tracks rather than allow the waste to
despoil the environment. Yesterday we had been fascinated by one of these
toilets cantilevered out over a rocky face, half way up the Routeburn canyon. Below
were rails on which the full tank could be moved out and the empty one inserted
just as one might install a new water filter under the sink. While we had picnicked
up at the Routeburn Flats Hut, a helicopter had passed high above us, carrying
a long pipe-like shape, perhaps a culvert, and later on the return, a large
tank like load that we guessed to be a full loo. Fascinating, eh?
Kinloch really is a charming spot, with little here but the YHA Lodge,
the old wharf and a strip along the lakeside and end of the Dart River for a
few campers DOC has the lodge look after. It is also the gateway to the Caples
and Greenstone Tracks that intersect the Routeburn. Today, a Saturday, it is
also the haunt for Queenstown jet boat owners who want to show their captaincy
skills, or lack of, to their visitors. This may impress some, but not us when
we see children leaping from the wharf and swimming through areas the sky-larkers
choose to do their water churning stops.
The rain has been late to arrive, and then does not seem much. As I
write this, I have a beautiful view out the rear window of the motorhome,
straight down the lake, past the islands across to the mountains beyond
Queenstown. We will have to leave here
tomorrow and return to some level of civilisation; we need to dump and to
replenish our fresh fruit and vegetable supplies, but in the meantime I shall
enjoy this little spot of paradise.
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