Rounding the corner, without warning we pop out of the forest, and onto a grassy flat on which a pretty hut sat surrounded by fox gloves. “Yes! That climb is OVER!” I thought to myself. But the relief was short lived… Looming high up all around were the craggy, scarred, knife sharpened peaks of the Richmond Range. A small but tight knot of anxiety began to crunch in my belly… I don’t like heights… Oh crap…
I was not looking forward to the climb today, over a thousand meters of ascent with still 7 days worth of food in the pack was going to be back-breaking work.. Hidden from view during the climb, I was pleasantly surprised when we made it up to Starveall Hut before our target of lunchtime.
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