Life is for Laughing: BOGGED IN AT BOG INN!

Leaving Hamilton and walking further and further from civilisation felt great. Walking with the knowledge that, apart from a couple of small towns, we were off into the wilderness for a few days and it was just what I was looking forward to after the uninspiring tarmac from Auckland to Hamilton.

The weather began in its usual scorchio style and we left Hamilton slightly later than our usual 6.00am start, as we were having to get a bus back to the place we left off when we stopped, on the north side of the city. We decided to set ourselves a goal of a lovely riverside spot about 30kms away, that looked great for camping, even though it would mean walking in the afternoon heat. We got offered about 6 rides as we walked down the Raglan Road (a road it had taken me an hour to hitch a ride on the day before in the rain) so we must have looked like we needed the help, with our packs loaded up with a full stock of food and water. If we weren't being offered rides, we were getting beeped, thanks to the new addition of tinsel and a Santa hat, that we had attached to our packs. The calls of "Merry Christmas" definitely put a skip in my step. We reached our goal and as it was such a hot day and our bags always feel a bit of a struggle after a rest day and being fully laden, we felt pretty pleased with ourselves.

While we were in Hamilon on our rest day we found out that we had miscalculated slightly and we had an extra few days on the next section of our journey. Although it wasn't much, we felt a bit disappointed and we had decided to put a bit of effort into making some distance and getting to Wellington without any further delays. So we were off to a good start....

As mentioned in the last blog, I have been feeling a little uninspired lately and, dare I say, bored. Ever since we left Auckland a few factors had left me wondering whether I would stay motivated enough to make it all the way down to Bluff. One of the reasons is my fitness. I saw a big change at the beginning of this trek, as I didn't train at all so my fitness improved very quickly including my stamina, endurance and strength, and as time has gone on my fitness has plateaued which subconsciously resulted in my lacking motivation. As minor as this sounds, it is something that really made me want to get up and go every morning, I felt amazing after pushing myself and seeing my muscles and my body change. The best thing I can relate it too is for those who run to keep fit. At first it feels great and you push through pain barriers and notice a difference and then after a while you just get bored, you are just running and running and although you may be maintaining a level of fitness it is certainly not as motivating as it is at first.

Another factor that had effected my mentality is that I had started to become a little complacent with the scenery and as a few of the trails felt very similar to many others we have been on, I didn't feel as "wowed" as when we first began. I would find myself counting down the minutes to break and lunch and the end of the day. I would wake up in the morning and be in autopilot and by not taking in every inch of my surroundings and the experience, like I had done before, I would feel guilty but I couldn't seem to snap out of it. Somebody said to me recently that he wouldn't be able to do what we do because he can't walk without a purpose. Although we have a purpose, it's difficult to keep focus of it for such a long period of time. It's often easy to set yourself a target or a goal of a week or a month or a couple of months but when you have done 2.5 months and you still have the same amount to go, it's very hard to keep pushing yourself. I would wake up at 5.00am in the dark, fumble around and cook the oatmeal I have every morning, I would put on my one outfit, I would pack my bag in the methodical way I needed to so that everything fit, I would put one foot in front of the other again and again and walk for 8 maybe 9 whole hours a day and not necessarily have an amazing view or a particular destination to walk towards. I would then arrive somewhere, put up the tent, unpack my whole bag, have dinner and then go to bed. I tried to look at it with fresh eyes and get my excitement back but something was missing and as time went on and the feeling didn't really subside and I really started to think that I didn't want to do this anymore. I wasn't enjoying it anymore. I wanted the freedom of going where I wanted and when I wanted. Eating what I wanted. Wearing what I wanted. But I managed to shake those thoughts off. I had already seen so many amazing things and I still have loads to still experience, especially with the South Island being so different. I would think about the Solomon Islands and my commitment to them and the feeling that I personally would get when I reach Bluff! Unbeatable!

When Shalane and I spoke about it, she understood and felt similar and we tried to spur each other on. The section after Hamilton was beautiful too which helped. The Kapamuhunga trail was like walking up and down every single hill that you see in those photographs of layered rolling green hills and it amazes me to think that people actually own that land. We had some gorgeous riverside camp spots too which allowed us some great down time. We'd pitch our tent and bathe in the river and I'd do some yoga and really relax.

I was walking along one day and I was thinking to myself, "what will it take for me to be snapped out of this feeling of bordom?" and "What can change so that I feel like I'm back on the adventure again?" Just the next day, the weather took a turn for the worse and in true New Zealand style, their summer turned very wet.

DON'T EAT YELLOW SNOW....BUT CAN I DRINK YELLOW WATER?!

View from Perongia Mountain Helipad

The morning we climbed Perongia Mountain I was feeling very low and fed up and that was even before the rain started. At one point I stopped to take my rain coat off as I was hot and Shalane went on ahead and I lost track of time for a bit. I kept expecting to see Shalane around the next corner for break and every step I took seemed like an effort. At one point I skidded on some mud as I tried to climb up a steep bank and was feeling pretty defeated. I stood at the bottom of the steep bank, rain falling all around me, my pack heavy and my legs feeling like lead and I just spontaneously burst into tears. It was the strangest feeling but I immediately felt better after sobbing like a girl for a few minutes. It was like a release, maybe an overdue cry or something but I felt lighter and happier and by the time I saw Shalane for break it was like I started the day again. We climbed to over 900 m to a view of clouds and we soggily plodded along to the Pahautea Hut, where we decided to spend the afternoon for a rest. We hadn't stayed at many huts so it felt like a real treat. When I heard voices and a dog barking my initial thought was "oh no, we have to share the hut", but the current residents turned out to be Department of Conservation (DOC) goat hunters. Goats aren't native to NZ and eat all the native foliage so the hunters are sent in, often air lifted by helicopter with 10 days worth of food and equipment, ready to exterminate. Two hunters soon turned to 4 and we all sat and chatted while we were made numerous cups of tea and they even cooked a Shepherds Pie for dinner. It was really great to have company and what was even better was that because of the nature of their jobs, walking the mountains, long physical days, they were understanding of us smelling a bit and going to bed early. Before bed, Shalane and I went to the helipad to watch the sunset. The clouds had part lifted and part sunk and the view was absolutely stunning. We couldn't have hoped for a better rest day and with a bit of entertainment from Stu the hunter with his joke repertoire it was time to hit the hay. I had a feeling that, with a few good days trekking under our belts, a night in a hut with some good company, maybe things were about to change for the better.

DOC Goat Hunters

After breakfast, cooked for us by the lads, they went off to work and Shalane and I took a look at our maps to plan out the next few days so that we could set ourselves some targets and start making some serious distance. We were starting to become aware that, although we don't want to rush this trek, the season and our finances suggest we can't take forever and we wanted to set ourselves a few goals. It was then that we realised more bad news. There had been another miscalculation and we had even more days to go than we originally thought. A few days here and there really isn't a huge problem but I guess it's all about managing our own expectations and because we can't afford to be trekking for ever and we have so much more time to come those few days just felt like forever. We're not entirely sure when the miscalculation happened but it was a knock down that we didn't really need as our motivation was already a little unstable.

Somehow, we woke up the next day feeling a little bit lifted and although the weather was now in full downpour the trail we were on took us around some of the most unbelievable farmland I've seen. It was so vast and simply something you see in photographs or paintings. At one point we came around one corner and the clouds lifted and thinned for a split second. Enough to reveal a breath taking view that gave me a big grin. When it rains really hard, something happens in me to give me a determination I didn't know I had. I think it's a sink or swim mentality (literally) and when you, your clothes and your bag are soaking wet and you are a few days walk from anywhere, without the promise of a dry, warm house to go home to, you have no choice but to keep going. Just as lunch time came around we'd approached an empty farm shed and as we stepped inside and the rain and wind got worse the luck of the finding the shelter just in time make me feel things were on our side.

Shalane had heard from David, a Kiwi guy doing Te Araroa ahead of us, who kindly warned us that the next section of this track was more overgrown with Gorse (a spiky, impossible, horrible bush that apparently comes from Europe) than anything we'd seen before, and as we'd come across some pretty towering examples we knew it had to be bad. So decided to re route to the road. We'd just past the track turn off when the farmer approached us and when we told him our reasons for rerouting, he suggested we take the old track that reconnects with the new, just above the Gorse. We took his advice and took as risk as his directions were the kind given by someone who knows the way like an engraving in his brain but doesn't necessarily know how to verbalise them. We took a while to find the way but eventually, we were back on track and we set up camp in the rain and hid inside for the rest of the evening.

Our Caravan at Te Kuiti Campsite

The next few days sucked! We got rained on so heavily coming into Te Kuiti that I think my bones were waterlogged and the trail was very frustrating. I've never been lead so unnecessarily up and over so many hills when the route around the hill is as clear as day! The only thing that saved us from defeat that day (along with my secret stash of yoghurt covered raisins) was staying in a cheap caravan at Te Kuiti campsite and putting everything we owned in the tumble dryer.

The next day we left with everything waterproof on and everything tucked in and zipped up and apart from getting hot and sweaty from the extravagant layers, I was dry from the rain. The trail was again frustrating. With the instructions from the website leading us into an area with a "private land, trespassers will be prosecuted sign" before taking us to a trail which had us both thinking it was out last. The Mangakeowa Riverside trail was absolutely beautiful and has potential of being my favourite, had it not been for a near death experience. The rain made the trail a little more slippery than usual so we began sliding all over the place which we are actually used to , but when the small ridge we were walking on became tiny and uneven and the bushes and trees became over grown, both me and Shalane literally feared for our lives. On the left we had a sheer 20 meter drop down the river with nothing but brambles to catch our fall. The path was wide enough for one boot and often eroded away so you'd have to jump over big gaps and on the right were thorn bushes or Gorse so thickly over grown that to push through it, you needed the weight of your whole body and pack, which essentially put you an your 20kg load off balance, risking a fall to the brambles. This went on for nearly 2 hours and by the time we hit a clearing we were both scratched and cut, covered in debris, my waterproof bag cover was ripped and I had the biggest headache. By the time we reached a decent camp spot, unsure of where we were but too exhausted to carry on, we'd had enough. Today was officially the first day I wanted to quit this trek and really meant it. The trails were were being sent on were either pointless or dangerous and I couldn't wait to get out. I was sick of being able to smell myself and bored of walking. It chucked it down with rain again so we darted for the tent and stayed there, Both of us feeling bloody miserable.

Nothing seems as bad after a good night sleep and I guess one thing in our favour is that to quit we would still need to walk for 2 days to get anywhere. We woke up and went through the routine like any other morning and we proceeded to walk in the rain. We managed to find sheds to have breaks in along the way but we got rained on so heavily towards the end of the day that I wasn't sure I'd ever dry out. We walked a huge 40kms that day before setting up camp in a farm shed, next to a sheep's carcass. We sat there on a mouldy bit of foam we found on the floor, drinking yellow cow pee water as we vacantly stared at our dripping wet clothes with complete emotional and physical exhaustion. In the morning it's safe to say our clothes actually felt more wet. As I put on my cold, soggy t-shirt, my 2 pairs of wet socks and my squelching boots, that sink or swim determination hit me again. Today was the last day before we will reach Bog Inn Hut for a rest day. It had been 5 long days since the last rest day and we were in desperate need. 32 kms is all I have to walk, one mountain to climb and we can dry out clothes and have a day off in shelter. All I have to do is ignore my upset stomach and nausea that I must have got from the cow pee water, ignore my soaking wet everything and put one foot in front of the other. So we walked and we climbed to 1265m to another view of clouds and to blustering winds. We kept on walking through landslides and through flooded mountain rivers and we were soaked to the bone. Admittedly, the trail in the Puetora Forest was very pretty and the rain made it so lush and majestic but not a second too soon did we make it to Bog Inn Hut. The 4 bunk cosy hut was all ours and we lit the fire, changed into warm, dry clothes and congratulated ourselves on completing 5 long, tough and miserable days. We'd pushed ourselves hard, there had been tears and I certainly can't say I had been bored! I had pushed myself physically on those longer days and now know that I can be pushed more and will maybe see another change in my fitness. I'd seen enough rain to last me quite sometime and although I was still fed up with being able to smell myself, frustrated with the trails and overwhelmed by the number of days we still have until Bluff, or even Wellington for that matter, I keep saying I don't want to do this anymore but I keep getting up at 5am and putting my trekking boots on so I guess I the tough times will only make me more determined in the long run.

BOGGED IN AT BOG INN!

Our rest day was great. A hunter had come by and gave us some extra food so we spent the day just lazing about and doing nothing. Both Shalane and I woke up with upset stomachs again so we had no problem with having an extremely lazy day and the rain continued constantly and heavily outside. At one point we spread the maps out on the floor and set ourselves and tough but reachable goal, full of long but possible days to get to Wellington. We finished the planning with the determination and a new gleam of light that we would get to the other side of this tough time and told ourselves that this was all part of the journey.

Attempting to chop fire wood at Bog Inn Hut

We woke at the usual time the next day ready for the off but unfortunately, Shalane was still not feeling well and the weather was horrific! With the track consisting mostly of muddy forest before reaching a river in a valley, we decided to wait a while until the rain slowed down. The day was miserable and with Christmas approaching, the weather fowl and with my temporary vision of light at the end of the tunnel now extinguished I cried a lot. Something about the bad weather and the Christmas tunes on the radio made me feel extremely homesick.

We ended up waiting in the hut all day! In fact, Shalane's health and the rain just got worse and by the following day, we had decided that we needed to get Shalane to a doctor. We were lucky enough that there was a trail leading out onto a forest road and we were even luckier to discover I had mobile phone signal once we were out on the road. By road we mean a dirt track with no traffic and still a good 8 hours walk to a main road. I called the DOC initially to double check the way out, as our maps didn't cover that area, but they were kind enough to send somebody to pick us up. Jason, the DOC Ranger scooped us off the dirt road like our knight in shining armor and drove us to the doctor in Mangakino, a small town about an hour north of the forest.

Shalane found out she had Gardia, a parasite that she got from water. Although we had treated the water, she had sipped half a cup one morning that she hadn't treated and we guessed that was the culprit. After discovering that between us we didn't have enough cash on us to pay for the doctors and after a further discovery that the town accommodation, food store or pharmacy didn't take card and the ATM didn't accept our international cards, we were feeling a little bit abandoned. The doctor very kindly offered us a lift to anywhere that was on her way home from work and as she lived in Hamilton, we asked to be dropped in Te Kuiti. We were back in the place we walked out of 4 days ago within the hour!

We checked back into the same campsite and sat on the grass unable to put the tent up for a few moments. As we sat there after a pretty dramatic day, we both wondered how many times we could keep picking ourselves back up and keep going before we were just too tired to do so.

We decided to make the most of our surroundings and as we had been trying to plan Christmas day for a while now (at one point fearing we might just have to road walk) we took full advantage of the supermarket nearby and didn't hold back. We put on our Santa hats cooked up an early Christmas Roast Chicken dinner, complete with mince pies and custard for desert and extra treats for the following day. As we both sat back in our chairs feeling like we might burst at the seams we suddenly felt very Christmassy! We put the day behind us and enjoyed an evening of indulging and it felt amazing.