Then There Was Magic
The day was slightly overcast, but very warm, as we left the campground in Murchison. It had been a pleasant time staying there, but it was time to move on (note to self, never volunteer to stay in the top bunk in an old cabin again).
Today we were off to the Grey River, a half day trip that evidently offered great scenery and fun rapids. Never having been there before, I felt a mix of excitement and anticipation.
The drive in was absolutely beautiful. The gravel road followed a small stream, tannin coloured but still clear. Great branches from the Beech trees that crowded either side, met above us, and created a tunnel like effect. The colours were such a rich mix of greens, browns, and even reds. I pondered that Tolkien had imagined something like this as he described the forests of Middle Earth.
I so wished we had time to stop and I could spend the day there, exploring and taking photos.
Its a Sign
I was shaken out of my reverie as we rounded a corner, and there, blocking the road, was a great white wooden gate with a plethora of signs, that included – “No Trespassing”, and another with “No Shooting”, and another with “Private Property”.
It was like leaving one world and coming upon another. A different world of rules, and mine and yours, and you don't belong here, so stay away.
What Now?
Luckily, Andy had dealt with the reclusive farmer before, and had arranged for us to drive 100 metres over his property and put our boats on the water – but only if we did it before 11 am.
I’m not sure what would happen if it was after 11 am.
Moving quickly, we unloaded and sorted out gear. What to take today? Would it stay warm and the cloud clear? The weather forecast said it would. I opted for a waterproof paddle jacket, just in case.
Patches of mist hung in the tree tops, below the peaks of the bush covered hills that surrounded us. High above, it almost seemed as if the sun would force its way through the overcast.
The river called, promising much around the next corner, and the one after that, and then the one after that.
It is a call that I find hard to resist.
Finally all four boats were on the river, the vehicle was off the property, the current captured each cataraft, pushing onwards. Downstream beckoned.
The River and Weather Gods Speak
The river gods had decided that today there would be some surprises. At first it was just a few spits, that quickly became a gentle shower, before finally the clouds opened and the rain fell in great torrents. The wind joined in, with gusts that threatened to blow each cataraft back upstream.
Soaking spray came up off the many small waves.
We leant into our oars. There was no turning back.
At the back of each of our minds were now unanswered questions that were far removed from feelings of an hour before.
“How long would the downpour last?”
“Would it flood the river?”
Each rapid now held a hint of menace. What a few minutes before had seemed a cheerful adventure, now felt a much more serious undertaking.
All the while, the rain kept coming down in great sheets. The force of water even working its way through gear that was supposedly waterproof. The pace of the trip increased, each person feeling that there was now a need to get to the end as quickly and safely as possible.
Then There Was Magic
The magic started with just a small veil of water falling from one of the high river banks. This was quickly joined by other waterfalls, as one by one each side stream emptied the downpour into the mother river.
All around, waterfalls, big and small came to life, from a handful to hundreds. Rainbows were captured in the misty spray. This was a scene of such beauty, that we all paused. Boats were left to drift, as we fully took in the scene around us.
Surrounded by this I reflected on how lucky I was to be there, at that time.
Forgotten was the rush to get off and the need to change into dry clothes.
No, for now there was only me, my friends, the river, and the beauty.
Nature had again shown us that what we had thought was something that would ruin our day, was in fact just a cloak. A cloak that would be opened to reveal things of magic.
Nature was saying, don't rush, simply be here now.
The Grey River, will continue shedding the water from those high hills and mountains into the Tasman Sea, and though one day I may go back, I wonder, next time will there be more magic, or will she keep those secrets locked away?
I hope not.
Posted by Brian Megaw on 13th February, 2011 | Comments | Trackbacks
Tags: Murchison, Grey River, catarafting, rafting new zealand
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