Dreams of donuts - Bush Stream to Tekapo

We decide to not take the rafts for this section because it crosses Stag Pass the highest point of Te Araroa and we are sick of the weight.

We take Wayne's Alps to Ocean shuttle and are soon stomping up Bush Stream in a howling warm norwester.

The places in this area were named by Captain Obvious. Bush Stream is a stream with bush. Crooked Spur Hut is a hut on a crooked spur and Stone Hut…

We have to cross the rocky stream again and again. The didymo makes the rocks slippery. The little patches of beech forest and rocky cliffs make for interesting travel. As rain starts the track goes straight up Crooked Spur. We grunt up, stopping occasionally to nibble snowberries. My foot is feeling better every day as long as I stretch aggressively and with light packs we feel great.

Crooked Spur hut is a rustic old tin musterers hut. The timber is round beech poles. It has great character. Keas squeal high above the valley. Ian makes bread and donuts which he hands around to impress the crowd. Seven in the hut. Mostly kiwis.

The next day the trail climbs up and down tussock gullies with little streams and expansive views of rocky peaks. Lots of skinks wriggle away as we approach. The clear, burbly creeks taste delicious.

Royal Hut is another tin shed masterpiece and we enjoy another night of good conversation. Ian outdoes himself with pickle and chorizo pinwheels and iced Nutella and almond donuts. Ian's baking is becoming trail legend and people I've never seen ask me if I'm the baker guy.

We slowly work our way up to Stag Pass. Tussock, streams and rock. The climb is straightforward and soon we hit the pass. The views to My Cook and the bright blue Lake Tekapo are wonderful and we sit staring under a blue sky for an hour or so. We also make use of the internet coverage but feel a little guilty for wasting precious moments. We follow the ridge down to Camp Stream Hut delighting in the vista and easy trail.

As we look down on the Macaulay and Godley Rivers we have pangs of regret about not paddling, but it sure is nice to carry a light pack.

The hut is over one hundred years old, cosy and much cared for by a local community group. It is crowded so we move downstream and camp in hayfever inducing long grass. The weather has turned southerly and cool and we escape into our cosy sleeping bags.

The next day we get moving early to climb a hill before the sun hits. Ian spots a wallaby. Soon we are walking the road and hitch a ride into the touristy delights of Tekapo. I have walked the road before so the rules of this trip allow hitching