We left Haast township on Tuesday morning in our trustworthy Toyota minibus heading away from the Tasman Sea and over the divide in the Southern Alps. The rivers now flowed into the Pacific Ocean toward the east side of the island. In the township of Makarora we boarded a single engine plane and took off from a dirt runway and headed into the Siberian Valley. The pilot took us on a spectacular sight seeing route as we banked near the mountain cliffs and past turquoise lakes fed by waterfalls coming from glaciers. We touched down on another dirt runway in the Siberia Valley. After fording our first stream getting our boots filled with ice cold water, we arrived at a mountain hut where we pitched our tent while most others claimed a spot on the sleeping platform in the hut. Shortly after we began our 8 hour hike heading for Lake Crucible. We forded two more streams before beginning a steep "root hold" ascent. Our surroundings remained rain forest. Mark Knoffler's "brothers in arms" could have been in the valley as mist covered mountains were everywhere. A mostly steady drizzle kept us wet as we broke above the root hold area and the forest canopy. "This is the largest member of the marigold family in the world found only down here up high," said our excellent Kiwi guide, DK. I pondered the oxymoron and smiled on how descriptive this was. We headed higher and came into a hanging valley, a horseshoe canyon more accurately described as a cirque. Steep, glistening granite walls shrouded in mist and clouds hung above us as we approached Lake Crucible still too high for us to see. The final approach was steep and rocky. Finally we were treated to a small emerald lake at the end of the valley. 260 degrees of the view was shear granite slopes plunging into the lake. I counted 15 small streams and rivulets cascading into the water. Looking down the valley I saw clouds below us and above us and nothing but rain forest. Middle Earth came to mind. It was an incredibly spiritual place and well worth the effort. We arrived back at the hut about 7:45 pm tired and wet, but filled with another experience of a lifetime.

| January 1970