Mid-winter beachside camping
You can’t always choose the optimal timing for things in your life. But I’ve had that feeling that you shouldn’t let any need for perfection stop the prospect of activity. Sometimes the sub-optimal can throw up a different kind of experience. And that might not be bad.
Sometimes things might just work out.
Take short day length camping. Sunrise: 7 54 am. Sunset: 5 06 pm.
That makes it functionally dark by 5 30 pm.
Abel Tasman National Park here I come.
The initial day looked entirely inauspicious when I opened my curtains. Heavy showers overnight. 100% dense cloud cover.
I sat in the shelter at the start of the track to put my boots on. But by the time I launched forth, all precipitation had ceased.
A few glorious cloudless, if cool days with my tent perched just metres from the high tide mark.
Then, with a storm approaching, I’d made it to a succession of huts. One day of full-on rain with hours spent plodding up steep slippery hills. My eighth day was spent taking a rest day on my lonesome in a hut with plenty of stacked firewood.
Another fine if chilly day for the big walk along Evans Ridge at altitude, well up to 1000 m.
And the last night with snow accompaniment. More great, if cold weather on the drop back down to sea level, and civilisation beyond.
Real pleasure to sleep within the sound of quiet lapping waves on a beach.
An otherwise deserted campsite.
Yeah, it all worked out. No need for perfection after all.