· We're on our wayTe Anau, New Zealand · 31st Mar 2008 · Posted by Margaret
We set out from Te Anau full of enthusiasm for our long-planned tramp in the Hollyford Valley. Alan was driving our Toyota Coaster bus, our home of the last few months. Alison, Joy and Isabel had flown in to Queenstown the day before and were travelling with us. It was a beautiful day, the road was good and the views of the lakes and mountains from the Milford Road gave us a taste of what was to come. Having already enjoyed several tramps in Fiordland, we were looking forward to reacquainting ourselves with this stunning environment.
Our destination for the night was Gunn’s Camp half way down the Hollyford Road, a fascinating destination in its own right. It is a former Public Works camp used by the construction crews who built the Homer Tunnel and retains many of its original features. There is no electricity service in the valley so the camp runs a generator for a few hours in the evenings to power the lights and recharge camera batteries. There is no phone or cellphone coverage and hot water is heated by a massive wood-fed burner. They have an intriguing fridge to keep their canned soft drinks cool – a little waterfall which drips down over an open umbrella on to the drink storage tray beneath. Although it is sited across the road from the shop, the managers told us that they lose very few cans. Most people come across to pay.
The camp has a small but fascinating museum which tells of the history of the valley and its inhabitants and the building of the Homer Tunnel. It is full of interesting objects and photos. It is named after Davey Gunn, an early runholder in the valley who rose to fame when he ran the entire 56km from Martins Bay to the road end in an amazingly short time to raise the alarm when a plane crashed on the beach. He was responsible for opening up the valley to tourists and formed many of the tracks which are used today. He was eventually drowned when his horse lost its footing while crossing a river. Amazingly, for someone who had spent his life in an area so dominated by rivers, Davey Gunn could not swim.
Outside the cabin where Isabel, Alison and Joy were to stay was a large box full of wood and the fire was already set in the coal range. We soon had the fire going and the cabin cosy. Alan and I had a good site for the bus, just over a little humped bridge spanning the small creek. Days later when it rained heavily, that little creek was transformed into a raging torrent.
Our destination for the night was Gunn’s Camp half way down the Hollyford Road, a fascinating destination in its own right. It is a former Public Works camp used by the construction crews who built the Homer Tunnel and retains many of its original features. There is no electricity service in the valley so the camp runs a generator for a few hours in the evenings to power the lights and recharge camera batteries. There is no phone or cellphone coverage and hot water is heated by a massive wood-fed burner. They have an intriguing fridge to keep their canned soft drinks cool – a little waterfall which drips down over an open umbrella on to the drink storage tray beneath. Although it is sited across the road from the shop, the managers told us that they lose very few cans. Most people come across to pay.
The camp has a small but fascinating museum which tells of the history of the valley and its inhabitants and the building of the Homer Tunnel. It is full of interesting objects and photos. It is named after Davey Gunn, an early runholder in the valley who rose to fame when he ran the entire 56km from Martins Bay to the road end in an amazingly short time to raise the alarm when a plane crashed on the beach. He was responsible for opening up the valley to tourists and formed many of the tracks which are used today. He was eventually drowned when his horse lost its footing while crossing a river. Amazingly, for someone who had spent his life in an area so dominated by rivers, Davey Gunn could not swim.
Outside the cabin where Isabel, Alison and Joy were to stay was a large box full of wood and the fire was already set in the coal range. We soon had the fire going and the cabin cosy. Alan and I had a good site for the bus, just over a little humped bridge spanning the small creek. Days later when it rained heavily, that little creek was transformed into a raging torrent.
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