Difference between revisions of "2023-01-03 -41 173"
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== Location == | == Location == | ||
| − | + | On the side of a hill near St Arnaud. | |
== Participants == | == Participants == | ||
| − | + | *[[User:Stevage|Stevage]] | |
| − | -- | + | |
| + | == Expedition == | ||
| + | |||
| + | === Prologue === | ||
| + | Travelling around New Zealand for a month in a rental car, I was itching to sink my teeth into a geohash. There were factors working in my favour: no fixed plans, a car, the flexibility to travel further than I normally would, and the low population of New Zealand meaning very low chance of a hash being in or next to a house. But factors against too, notably the mountainous terrain and few roads. Already I'd seen a few that were close but impossible: the wrong side of a steep ridge, or just miles from the nearest road. | ||
| + | |||
| + | This one looked like a definite chance. Only a few km down the road from where we were camped in St Arnaud. The hill would be steep, but the point looked to be in a pine plantation, which meant I wouldn't be bothering anyone by going in. And just a few hundred metres from the road. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Having learnt the value of properly equipping oneself, I brought gaiters, a backpack, water. I parked along the highway and sauntered in. | ||
| + | |||
| + | === Going on === | ||
| + | Immediately, an enormous obstacle. Instead of the hill reasonably and considerately connecting with the road at a pleasingly gentle angle, it forms a cliff, overgrown with heinous vegetation. It looks savage. Let's call that one...Plan B. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I saunter further, ignoring the whoosh of campervans, trucks and little rental cars that frequent this highway. I'm now close to a building -- a house? -- but see a way through. I'll just have to navigate a small field of lupins, a barbed wire fence, a creek, a gigantic pile of logging debris, and a steep 4WD track to get to the hill I want to climb. Doable! | ||
| + | |||
| + | These obstacles yielding without complaint (even the creek was ''just'' leapable), I stride up the track, to the fence line. | ||
| + | |||
| + | A choice: right of the fence is a paddock, seemingly populated with a sparse herd of sheep, and more than a few brambles. Perhaps following the sheep trails will be easier walking, but within view of whoever's property this is. Or cross into the pine plantation, where the dirt and pine needles look slippery and slow. I start right. | ||
| + | |||
| + | It's steep. Like, really steep. Like, try to find rocks and tussocks as steps to avoid sliding on the slick, dry grass. Try to avoid grabbing handfuls of brambles. Remember to drink. Climb. Upwards. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Tiring of the bramble dodging, and overheating despite the overcast day, I hop the fence and praise the cool shade of the pine trees. It's peaceful, but somehow feels even steeper. It aches to walk straight up the hill, so I make my own switchbacks, crossing the odd fallen branch. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Before too long, I home in on the point. It looks like every other part of this plantation: pine trees above, pine needles below. | ||
| + | |||
| + | === Getting out === | ||
| − | + | Having climbed so high, I sidle across the hill to get a view of the valley. Then stomp as fast as I can manage down. Down. Down. I admire the foxgloves. I pay respect to the "wild Irishman", a native New Zealand shrub with fearsome thorns, and scowl at the blackberries that cross my path. | |
| − | |||
| − | + | At the bottom of the track, I once more ponder why the creators of this track blocked it so comprehensively with a huge pile of tree stumps and other debris, but reach no firm conclusions. I find a better way across the creek and back over the fence, scurrying delightedly to my underpowered but fuel-efficient vehicle, and skedaddle out of there. | |
| − | |||
== Tracklog == | == Tracklog == | ||
| − | + | [[File:2023-01-29 10_34_40-Geohash _ Walk _ Strava — Mozilla Firefox.png|400px]] | |
== Photos == | == Photos == | ||
| Line 48: | Line 63: | ||
File:PXL_20230102_234128670.jpg | File:PXL_20230102_234128670.jpg | ||
</gallery> | </gallery> | ||
| − | |||
== Achievements == | == Achievements == | ||
Revision as of 23:36, 28 January 2023
| Tue 3 Jan 2023 in -41,173: -41.7241734, 173.1040821 geohashing.info google osm bing/os kml crox |
Location
On the side of a hill near St Arnaud.
Participants
Expedition
Prologue
Travelling around New Zealand for a month in a rental car, I was itching to sink my teeth into a geohash. There were factors working in my favour: no fixed plans, a car, the flexibility to travel further than I normally would, and the low population of New Zealand meaning very low chance of a hash being in or next to a house. But factors against too, notably the mountainous terrain and few roads. Already I'd seen a few that were close but impossible: the wrong side of a steep ridge, or just miles from the nearest road.
This one looked like a definite chance. Only a few km down the road from where we were camped in St Arnaud. The hill would be steep, but the point looked to be in a pine plantation, which meant I wouldn't be bothering anyone by going in. And just a few hundred metres from the road.
Having learnt the value of properly equipping oneself, I brought gaiters, a backpack, water. I parked along the highway and sauntered in.
Going on
Immediately, an enormous obstacle. Instead of the hill reasonably and considerately connecting with the road at a pleasingly gentle angle, it forms a cliff, overgrown with heinous vegetation. It looks savage. Let's call that one...Plan B.
I saunter further, ignoring the whoosh of campervans, trucks and little rental cars that frequent this highway. I'm now close to a building -- a house? -- but see a way through. I'll just have to navigate a small field of lupins, a barbed wire fence, a creek, a gigantic pile of logging debris, and a steep 4WD track to get to the hill I want to climb. Doable!
These obstacles yielding without complaint (even the creek was just leapable), I stride up the track, to the fence line.
A choice: right of the fence is a paddock, seemingly populated with a sparse herd of sheep, and more than a few brambles. Perhaps following the sheep trails will be easier walking, but within view of whoever's property this is. Or cross into the pine plantation, where the dirt and pine needles look slippery and slow. I start right.
It's steep. Like, really steep. Like, try to find rocks and tussocks as steps to avoid sliding on the slick, dry grass. Try to avoid grabbing handfuls of brambles. Remember to drink. Climb. Upwards.
Tiring of the bramble dodging, and overheating despite the overcast day, I hop the fence and praise the cool shade of the pine trees. It's peaceful, but somehow feels even steeper. It aches to walk straight up the hill, so I make my own switchbacks, crossing the odd fallen branch.
Before too long, I home in on the point. It looks like every other part of this plantation: pine trees above, pine needles below.
Getting out
Having climbed so high, I sidle across the hill to get a view of the valley. Then stomp as fast as I can manage down. Down. Down. I admire the foxgloves. I pay respect to the "wild Irishman", a native New Zealand shrub with fearsome thorns, and scowl at the blackberries that cross my path.
At the bottom of the track, I once more ponder why the creators of this track blocked it so comprehensively with a huge pile of tree stumps and other debris, but reach no firm conclusions. I find a better way across the creek and back over the fence, scurrying delightedly to my underpowered but fuel-efficient vehicle, and skedaddle out of there.
Tracklog
Photos
Success @-41.7241,173.1041
Achievements
