Campfire left smouldering at Hatchers
Posted: Mon 30 Apr, 2018 11:42 am
We walked down a nice steep ridge from the south to Hatchers Hollow on 26 April last week, arriving at Hatchers around 2pm to find the previous campers had kindly left two very substantial logs smouldering in the campfire. Just threw on a handful of leaves and had instant flames ready for our well-earned cuppa, so that was nice and welcoming - thank you previous campers. They also left some empty tuna cans in the fire for us to carry out which we did a couple of days later - thanks for that, too, nothing like a bit more weight in the pack going uphill. I like tinned tuna. I don't take it walking to avoid carrying the empty tins home but end up doing this a lot for other walkers anyway. Maybe if I take my tins in, someone else will kindly carry the empties out for me too, a sort of "Tuna-Can Karma". We rehabilitated a few other campfires down there, in our spare time. Surely the main one is enough, but if its not and people need to make their own due to the place being crowded, its not hard to Leave No Trace.
To be fair the previous people had cleared away the leaf litter from around their smouldering logs so maybe a bit of effort was made, but this is surely not good bushwalking etiquette, and a pretty serious risk if the weather had changed.
Sadly the river's getting pretty low and all the creeks around Hatchers were dry, including Doris, from which we've had lovely water previously. It was beautiful down there as always, though, and again we felt lucky to be able to be alone in the wilderness not too far from a major city - priceless.
To be fair the previous people had cleared away the leaf litter from around their smouldering logs so maybe a bit of effort was made, but this is surely not good bushwalking etiquette, and a pretty serious risk if the weather had changed.
Sadly the river's getting pretty low and all the creeks around Hatchers were dry, including Doris, from which we've had lovely water previously. It was beautiful down there as always, though, and again we felt lucky to be able to be alone in the wilderness not too far from a major city - priceless.