Start – Harper Road Campground
Finish – Methven
Daily Distance – 29 km
TA Distance – 2280 km
Today I fixed my grumpy mood by consuming several pints of “Hard cider” and eating a giant burger in
an Irish bar. Yes, it can only mean 1 thing, it’s town day again! I don’t feel like I have walked nearly far
enough to merit another day off, but after several hours of hitchhiking in the baking sun I was tired and
feeling the need to unwind. Incidentally, the major downside of using a buff as a hat is that it gives off a
slightly unfriendly, terroristy vibe, which I have not found terribly compatible with hitching. Increasingly
lobstered Englishman seems to play much better with NZ drivers.
My bad mood started at approximately the same time as I opened my eyes this morning. The residents of
Lake Coleridge village make no bones about having a less than rosey attitude towards hikers. Walking
down a dusty gravel road liberally adorned with signs such as “No camping!”, and my personal favourite,
“Still no camping!” leaves one feeling a mite unwelcome. Unless planning to stay at the expensive lodge
your best bet is to get in early to maximize your chances of hitching out again. I can’t be certain what
would happen if you get caught there after dark, but I assume it involves the residents association, a large
wicker kiwi and an unfortunately toasty pagan ceremony.
All of this, combined with the uncertainty of being able to obtain a hitch on a quiet road didn’t exactly put
me in the best of moods. I hate having to rush my walking, but felt under pressure all day to be quick in
case hitching proved difficult. A shame really as the scenery was beautifully Scottish, with heather clad
hills and small lakes liberally populated with both salmon and men fly fishing.
On a positive note, after working the stiffness out of my ankle this morning, it has felt ok. My upper leg is
a little painful, so I guess I was walking awkwardly yesterday, but nothing too bad. Anyway, I end the
evening in Methven where I hoped to be when setting out this morning. I am writing this from a comfy
seat in The Dubliner. This is partly because they have a great music collection featuring such classics as
“Danger Zone”, from Top Gun (which I challenge you not to be singing now,) and “Tequila makes her
clothes fall off” by some random country artist I’ve never heard of before. The other compelling reason is
that the burger was of such proportions that my legs no longer support my own weight. I wonder if they’ll
let me sleep here?
Addendum
To end on a nice word, I am told the owners of the Coleridge lodge are lovely. Also, some residents
routinely pick up hitchhikers, so they’re clearly not all bad. The rest are still dicks though!
