rogaining 6:00:00 [3] 15.0 km (24:00 / km)
shoes: Asics Trabuco
"I can't believe people run this in one day!"
Abortive attempt at walking the Overland Track didn't even get us as far as the Barn Bluff turnoff. Was ok up until Marion's Lookout and thereafter, just rather snowy, really. We'd heard yesterday of people taking 6 hours to walk from Waterfall Valley to Kitchen Hut, and now I know why. In most places it was *only* knee deep but there were some drifts covering the snow poles. And while it was mostly possible to walk in other people's footprints, sometimes these were very deep where feet had sunk in, and sometimes our feet sank in, and it's almost impossible to push yourself upright when you have fallen into the snow, have 1/3 of your bodyweight on your back, and knees don't work too well.
We thought it might get better after Kitchen Hut - and the snow wasn't so deep around the back of Cradle Mtn, but it was starting to melt and while I am not troubled by wet feet, walking through ice-temperature water gets scary when you can't feel your toes. Finally we found a dry rock to lunch on, just short of the junction to Scott-Kilvert Hut, and watched how slowly the group in front of us were negotiating that next section. And weighed up our options. I thought maybe to go on to Waterfall Valley, and then make a decision upon seeing what the conditions further on were like in the morning, but Blair pointed out that our best option for walk-abandonment would be to catch the Wed lunchtime bus towards the West Coast in the hope of finding my parents. So, much as I dreaded the thought of going back through all that snow, and then DOWN the chain at Marion's Lookout, we did it, and in time to catch the 5pm shuttle back from Dove Lake.
So that was okay, I guess, but NOT okay was the marauding possums in the campground. We agreed that I would take all the food into my tent and put it inside my pack, but that didn't stop the possums from trying to get in at either end of the tent. Then in the night I heard a possum trying to eat Blair's pack which was in the vestibule of his tent; I yelled at it, threw the nearest handy thing at it (which happened to be my torch) and after it came back again - for the oatmeal, as it turned out - I took his pack into my tent as well!
I was less than impressed in the morning when I noticed the muddy footprints going up my tent inside the fly, leaving claw-holes in the inner, and the droppings which Mr Possum had thoughtfully left above my head to lighten the load before he skidded down the other side...