The Tors

I was preparing for my run this morning when I received a text from my climber/tramper mate. Did I want to do such and such a track crossing to the such and such including The Tors and Bridal Path?

Did I what ;-)

Only a few seconds required to decide I'd rather spend 2-3 hours away from domestics rather than 1-2. The uphill part was a decent work out using a track and then ridge I'm not familiar with. Then neither is he given the earthquakes have changed things up on the Port Hills, particularly above Heathcote where the epicentre of the Feb 2011 quake was.

The Tors on the right, Castle Rock lost in the mist on the left.

More eerie large (without hat or gloves)

It was superbly blustery, misty and eventually wet. Here we're using a bit of the blocked off road before we traversed behind The Tors (or there reconfiguration) at which point I was completely disorientated (by 180 degrees). Not that it mattered as the climber/tramper knew where he was.

After a quick decision about the way down we chose the Bridal Path, on the basis if there was a decent shake on the other route, we wouldn't be able to see what had dislodged above us because of the mist.

Oddly that bothers the climber/tramper who separates the Port Hills from the mountains. I find myself tending towards the view point that we take our chances wherever we are. We live in a strange quake world, making decisions about some possible knowns and sweetly oblivious to what we don't know.

Not surprisingly we didn't see another soul. Better still the blokes who blast rocks up there don't appear to work Saturdays.

That leaves me now with a fast dwindling time to do any house work before I'm on afternoon house shifting duties for a friend. I'm also the supplier of dinner. The slow cooker is taking care of a chicken.