"It does not have to be fun to be fun"

Or what can happen in one day of tramping in the Nelson Lake National Park....

The same day as the Christchurch terrible earthquake, I left Blue Lake Hut in the morning, in the aim of traversing the Moss Pass over to the D'Urville Valley. The D'Urville river is supposed to offer excellent trout fishing, so I hurry up the pass and arrive at the George Lyon Hut late in the morning. I can start to look after trouts from now on. While trying to spot one, I drop my backpack on the ground... Ten seconds later, my back starts to burn, I ear many wasps around me... I stepped on a wasp nest!

I start running on the track, fall over cos of some roots on the way, run, fall over again... I feel that some wasps are still stinging my back, stuck in my shirt... I take it off... Things are getting better. Now I start to be scared: my brother is dead allergic to wasps stings, and I can't remember when was last time I got stung by a wasp. If I start to feel bad, I wouldn't be in a good situation, alone by myself at 3 to 4 days of walking from civilization.

I tell myself that I am not allergic, and that I should walk to the d'Urville Hut by tonight, where I know there is a radio... So I can call somebody in case I fell bad. First step, jumping in the water. It cools down the many stings, a bit. Then, get back my backpack, which is on the wasp nest... Scary job: I run, pick it on the way, run for a little while... No trouble, I can relax... Walking now, which should take 7 to 8 hours to the targeted hut.

"I am not allergic, I am not allergic"

I realize I lost my sunglasses. I broke my rod as well. Things are adding up... I feel a bit dizzy. Then I remember Travis's favorite citation, i.e. "it does not have to be fun to be fun". I start laughing. I make it to the d'Urville hut just before night, with just enough energy to eat a bit, before to fall asleep.

The day after, on my way to St-Arnaud, I met up with the guy maintaining the fancy Sabine hut, who happened to be a former elite climber, from back in the 70s (a climbing buddy of Graeme Dingle for those interested). I show him my back: "Bloody hell, there are at least 50 stings. I can tell you you are not allergic, you would't be there if you were (...)"

He tells me as well about the terrible quake in Christchurch. I think I shouldn't complain about my case.

PS: the tramp was nice nevertheless, and I managed to catch my best brown trout that same day... Busy day I tell ya!