Saturday Morning With Jack Tame

It was such a rookie mistake.   I was tramping in the Kahurangi, last summer. The Douglas Range, 1000m above sea level. And after we’d pitched a tent, as the sun got heavy and the surrounding hills cast their shadows long and deep, I realised I’d screwed up, big time.   Zzzzzz. Zzzzzz. Zzzzzz.   What made the error so much worse was that it wasn’t a bit of absent-minded forgetfulness. I’d carefully considered my options before loading my pack. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten to bring long johns or pants. It’s that I’d *chosen* not to pack them. Up top I had a poly-prop, jumper and jacket. But down bottom I had shorts… and that was it.   Zzzzz. Zzzzzzzz.   The only way to keep sandflies from biting is to keep moving. And the last thing you feel like doing after 8 or 10 hours of steady climbing… is keep moving. As if to wallow in my own stupidity, I ended up treading a middle ground. Moving just enough so as not to rest, but not enough to stop the sandflies from completely devouring me. &n