Sticks and Stones might break my bones and so will Te Araroa

Te Araroa!!!!  No doubt in our minds that the first track from Boyle village to Hope Kiwi lodge was purely a Te Araroa trail.  We've become quite accustomed to the Department of conservation trails with their clear signs and markings, taking us on the most suitable path possible, but when we followed this water logged, muddy trail with badly placed markers and incorrect timings we knew it had to be our trail.

Luckily we were soon back on a DOC trail and the beautiful meandering forest track lead us in the glorious sunshine to a very impressive hut.  Hope Kiwi lodge had 3 separate bedrooms and was HUGE, so it didn't matter at all that we were joined that night by a couple of hunters.

This whole next section was a complete disaster for me!  A few hours into the next day and my foot started hurting so badly that I actually felt sick from the pain.  I was taking ibuprofen and trying to ignore it but this was no minor injury.  I wasn't sure how I did it exactly but knew it had started feeling a little sore the previous day.  It was David's birthday and I was feeling a wee bit guilty that he spent it on his own, flying ahead while I hobbled a good half an hour or more behind him.  Come lunch time, I had to have a serious assessment as to whether I could carry on walking, as the next hut was still a few hours away.  The issue I faced was that it was a few days walk to get out, whichever direction I walked in and I didn't want to delay things any further so I decided to harden the hell up and limp on.  We reached number 3 hut just before the heavens opened and all three of us huddled around the fire with a couple of BCC deserts we had saved for David's birthday.

I rested my food, convinced that a night of rest and a bit of tiger balm would sort out the problem.  I woke up (as normal) in the night for a pee and, forgetting I had a painful foot, got up to walk outside.  The shock and pain was unbelievable, I couldn't believe how much it still hurt and went back to bed a little worried for what the morning had in store.

Harper Pass

We all woke in the morning to the rain still pounding down outside and my foot felt even worse.  I began to get packed and ready slowly but was dreading the day ahead.  David had gone outside and I mentioned to Shalane that I wasn't really excited about a day of rain and pain. That was all she needed to hear!  She wasn't really up for walking in the rain and an excuse to cut ties with David, who had been slowly talking us to death was just what we needed.  He took some persuading but after Shalane completed his crossword while he was asleep, he finally realised there was nothing to stay for anymore.  he walked on ahead and we kicked back, relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief at our new found freedom.

The next few days were probably the hardest I had to face in the entire trip.  The trail, scenery and weather was fantastic and despite the painfully slow pace I was setting and the constant agony I was in, I still managed to really enjoy it and Harper Pass was probably one of the highlights of the trek for it's lushness and pure beauty.  However, unless it was morphine, I wasn't interested! Every time I put my bad foot down and experienced pain, I would try to step back on my good foot quicker.  The result was, that I would not lift my good foot up enough and tripped over any rock, twig or weed that I could possibly find.  Thus, sending me flying and stumbling harder on my bad foot as I tumbled down steep hills and mountains.  When we reached a hut, just one day from Arthurs Pass and found a radio, with a direct line to the Arthur's Pass information centre.  I have to say, I was tempted.   The main problem I was facing from day to day was that my energy was being sucked out of me, like some kind of torture method.  I felt like I was going fast and was putting all my energy into each day but the distance we were covering was a joke and the constant pain, the disappointment each morning that there was no improvement and the knowledge each day that the only way out was on foot was soul destroying.


The last couple of days really were an adventure.  We followed the Waimakariri River through the valley and the sun was beating down.  We stopped for a break on one of the days,  and perched ourselves down on the remains of a tree.   As I looked around I couldn't believe how vast this country is.  We were days from anyway, no roads nearby, mountains for miles and it just felt incredible.  There is nowhere in the UK as isolated and despite wanting to be in civilisation at that moment in time, there was no hiding the pure beauty of a land not ruined by mankind.  We followed a path until the path we were on was no more.  An earlier flood had washed the path away and the next half of the day was spent bush bashing, getting cut and scratched, climbing over fallen trees and under broken branches.  But we didn't mind.  Maybe it was because we were already going slowly or maybe we were still high from our freedom from David. Either way, we were quite content and knowing that we were near was good enough motivation to keep going.

We ended our last day crossing the Bealey river which was still slightly flooded and bloody scary.  It was flowing fast, we were tired and the only thing going for me was that the ice cold temperature of the water made my foot go numb.  We made it to the other side, set up camp and yet again, breathed a sigh of relief.  This time, it was because I could see the road.  I knew civilisation was close and everything was going to be ok.

Hitching to Greymouth

Can we get away with it?  Would they know??

We reached Arthurs Pass the next day, collected our food drop and decided to hitch to Greymouth for food shopping and foot resting.  After a few days of trying to reduce the balloon that was now my foot, the pain still hadn't subsided and I decided that a trip to the doctor was overdue.  I wasn't sure what he was going to say but all I could feel at this point was guilt.  Guilt for poor Shalane having to wait more days for my injuries.  There she was fighting fit and ready to keep trekking, to get to Bluff and to finish this long loooooong trek, but she was stuck in GREYmouth waiting for me.    Again!  When the doctor poked around he revealed that the injury was definitely bone.  A fracture or a stress fracture (later confirmed as a fracture after an xray) and to heal, I would need to do nothing for 6 weeks.  However, the only words that I really heard him say was that I could still trek, it just wouldn't get better.  Hearing those words were all I needed. He gave me pain killers and what felt like his approval, his permission to carry on.  Shalane wasn't quite as enthusiastic which I guess I could understand.  More slow, painful days, more isolation with an unpredictable injury.  It wasn't necessarily a wise choice but I had to try.  There was no way I was ending this adventure in Greymouth!

What Goes Up, Must Come Down!

It rained heavily all night and with rain at high altitude, it means slippery terrain, bad visibility, heavy winds and of course wet us.  Luckily, we set off to mainly dampness and low clouds as the heavy rain had all come at night.  I wasn't feeling as achy and sore as I thought I would after our challenge the day before so the day ahead was feeling manageable and exciting.

We began by following ridge line before ascending to Purple Top Mountain at 1532m.  However, as we climbed higher and higher we realised the wind was very strong. The terrain was rocky and scree and although a bit wet, luckily wasn't too slippery although definitely not secure.  All our concentration was used on staying upright as at times I thought I'd be blown away. There was one hell of an icy bite to the wind and our legs were a nice shade of pink.   We were all on a mission to get out of the wind and rain as quickly as possible and the adrenaline meant I didn't really think about how dangerous the track actually was.  The wind blew and I stumbled over and heard David shout "we'll have to feed you up with pies" as I regained my balance and kept scrambling.  And we kept scrambling until we were up and over the top and started our descent down to the tree line for a bit of shelter where I took a deep breath and tried to process the last hour.

The rest of the day wasn't nearly as demanding but a steep descent down to Mid Wairoa hut meant we were all glad to rest our knees and enjoy an afternoon to recover.  Due to this section being so long between food resupplying, we can't afford to stop and rest so every afternoon had me trying to rest and look after my muscles and knees as much as possible for fear of pushing myself too far.  The sun helped and as I laid and soaked up the hot rays for an hour I felt ready for a good sleep.

Unfortunately, I didn't get one and I woke up feeling a bit negative.  There is something really tough about being so many days from civilisation when food supplies are limited and when the shorter exit route is about as inviting as going over Mount Rintoull backwards.  I was feeling a little bit trapped.  Wanting to just pig out on food but having to hold back, wanting to know that if anything happened we could just walk out in a few hours and a little bit fed up.  Because when that adreneline wears off at the end of a tough day, the stress and and reality of what you have just done is exhausting.  However, I knew that if I continued with this attitude, it would only keep bringing me down because the factors I mentioned weren't going to change and in fact, the only way I would change anything is by sucking it up and keep walking, that's exactly what I did.  I spent the day a little bit quiet and trying to give myself a bit of a pep talk.  The day consisted of some rather annoying river crossings.  We must have crossed the same river 10 times in a short distance and with a very steep and exhausting scramble up to Top Wairoa Hut for a break we were all feeling tired.  The wind had picked up and it began to rain, and with a steep and demanding route ahead of us, we made the decision to wait out the weather until the next day.  The rain wasn't too bad but the wind would have made the trail too dangerous.  The next section is what DOC describe as a Route instead of a Tramping Trail, which is defined as often badly marked, no clear trail and for only experienced and very fit trekkers.  Hence the decision to stay put until the weather improved.  The hut wasn't the best to be stuck in! Up high on a hill with steep scree either side, wind blowing the hut so hard that it wobbled and a scramble for our lives if we wanted water.  The weather didn't die down all day and actually, I laid awake all night listening to the howling winds crashing against the flimsy shelter and the rain crashing on the corrugated iron roof and sides.

We set off at around lunchtime the next day after the wind had settled considerably and as we began the climb in the misty rain I realised that the description of a "route" was pretty accurate.  The wind was still pretty strong and as we climbed up over rocks and boulders I was being blown around.  I lent into the wind but then it would suddenly stop and I'd over compensate and go flying.  It was pretty comical but also scary as we climbed higher and higher and became more exposed.  When we finally reached the saddle, the clouds had become very low and the few markers that there were became impossible to see.  We decided that one of us would have to stand at the last seen marker, while the other walked off into the thick fog until they could see the next orange pole and lead the threesome onwards, to avoid us loosing sight of both directions.   Sometimes the wind would blow a gap in the clouds for just long enough, and we'd see a glimpse of orange in the distance.  The wind increased and strong gusts literally blew me over to the floor and the hail on my face was heavy and painful.  My skin was numb with cold and the news headlines flashed through my mind "3 trampers blown off the side of the mountain!"  The clouds thinned after nearly 3 hours of walking on scree, slippery grass and boulders, in wind, hail and rain and to my relief I saw a row of orange poles leading down to the tree line.  We dropped down into the shelter of the trees  and the relief of the intensely strong wind was amazing.  We dropped down into the valley over the next 2 hours and the weather improved all the way to the lovely Hunters Hut.

The next day was a long one but arriving in St Arnaud, although not quite civilisation as we all know it, it felt good.  Everything ached beyond belief but knowing we all had a rest day was an unbeatable feeling.

Nelson Lakes, St Arnaud

After a late start due to me waking up in the night feeling sick as a dog, we plodded on to the swingbridge (not quite as far as David's "schedule" intended).  I think my stomach had a slight shock going from muesli bars every day to the rich foods of the normal world and it took me the whole day to feel right again.   Over the next few days, the biggest challenge was the muggy weather.  It was humid as hell and we were all feeling it by the end of each day so ensured we re hydrated and rested in the evenings.  We met a few more trampers on this section in Upper Traverse (and some noisy inconsiderate ones) and it was nice to chat and appreciate hut life in a different way.  Each hut we arrived at had it's own little quirk.  Whether it be an amazing view or heaps of character.

When we reached Blue Lake Hut we all dumped our bags and ran to the lake, whose name is an understatement!  The lake was electric.  It was an incredible colour and we couldn't resist going for a dip.  Ok, well, we dipped up to our knees, when we discovered how bloody Baltic it was and then sat on a rock and had a good ol' key area wash!  But still, we tried.  I knew the next day was going to be hard and I spent the night mentally preparing for it.  We had a huge pass to climb and it was only advisable in good weather, to experienced trampers and they don't give that advice lightly.  By the next morning, I was up, ready and psyched up.  But the Waiau pass wasn't ready for us!  We stood at the doorway, in the dark, waterproofs on looking out to low clouds, heavy rain and winds.  It wasn't going to happen.We were soon unpacked, fire lit, with cups of tea in hand having agreed to wait out the crappy weather.  We all hoped with all fingers and toes crossed that we would be good to go the next day as neither of us had too many days of spare food and we still didn't know what type of terrain we had ahead of us.

Blue Lake

We woke up the next morning with the same ritual:  Up, fed, packed and dressed, standing in the doorway assessing the day ahead.  We looked like 3 little children waiting for Santa.  But maybe a slight scary Santa as there was anxiety mixed with our excitement. The clouds were low but not as thick.  It was raining, but not as hard.  So we decided to go, do it, make the move.  The pass was so steep and long that we could only go so fast and every time I put a foot forward it would slip half way down again on the dreaded scree.  I was grabbing at random tufts of grass or loose rocks just to try and stay upright as the wind was so fierce.  I was literally scrambling on my hands and feet.  The rain and wind were increasing and I was constantly getting blown off balance and all I could do is keep climbing.  The muscles in my legs were tight and sore and the climb felt like it went on forever.  We eventually reached the top, but our excitement and joy was short lived, as we were faced with a vertical rock face.  By this time the rain was really hard and streams and rivers were forming on the mountains and rocks all around us.  We were in trouble!  Underfoot was slippery, there was water everywhere and we were drenched.  As I lowered myself down, I honestly felt like I should be attached to a harness and all my concentration went into every movement.  Since this day, Shalane and I have spoken about this particular moment, and we will always say that it was one of the best days of the trip.  As scarey as it was, as wet and cold as we were and as out of my depth as I felt, there is something to be said about moments like this one.  Every sense in our body is very much alive and in that moment.  We are 100% in the "now", our mind and body HAVE to be fully connected to ensure every decision and movement  is the right one.  And, as a result, you feel the cold, sharp rock as you cling to it with your hand and every ice cold rain drop as you get increasingly soggier.  You can here your breath as you take one foot off and place it strategically on the small ledge below.  People meditate and search for years for moments like this one and I can honestly tell you I can see why.  It was incredible.  The next few hours we squelched through the mud and crossed the rising, fast flowing river time and time again.  The track had been newly cut so it could have been worse but in places the river had been washed away and we had to literally walk in the river, following it down to our destination.  But where was our destination?  We were drenched to the bone and I was starting to get too cold.  I knew that if we didn't get to Caroling Bivvy soon,w e were going to have to stop and put on some dry clothes, and put up the tent or I would never get warm again.  My heart was pounding and we hadn't stopped for food all day so I was purely going on adrenaline.   We finally reached the bivvy, not a moment to soon but to our horror, the tiny, 2 bunk shed had no vacancies.  We stood at the door, shivering, soaking, miserable and tired and started distraught at the 2 DOC workers looking warm and dry inside, sipping warm tea.  And all they could say to us as they stared back, god knows what we must have looked like but all they said was  "hope ya got ya tent".  They never did find their strangled bodies!!!  Joking of course!

The Descent

We set up our tents in the rain, tore of our dripping wet clothes and got into our warms dry sleeping bags.  Drank tea after tea after tea until I eventually warmed up 3 hours later.  All I can say is what a day.  What an incredible, life changing memorable day.


Nothing like the feeling of putting on soaking wet clothes in the dark in a tent to say GOOD MORNING.  Horrible, cold, wet and horrible.  We stopped for tea on the side of the river when the sun eventually came up but the sand flies were unbelievably bad so we kept on stepping.  I'm sure when I looked at Shalane I couldn't see her skin for black flies.  Yuck!

It was an easy day, just 29kms of long flat valley.  The sun was now shining, the terrain was stress free and the vast mountains stretching as far as the eye can see were stunning.  It felt like a relaxing stroll and just what we all needed to process the crazy events of the previous day.  The next day was the last in this challenging section and as we all hobbled out with painful knees, achy feet and knotty shoulders, all the way to Boyle village, it felt like the events of Waiau pass were on a whole different trip.

Is This Alpine Enough for You?

Excited was an understatement!  A few days in Wellington to get organised and prepared and we soon found ourselves at the Interislander ferry port with a whole new adventure waiting fro us.  Simon, a friend of David's, (the Kiwi trekker who will be joining us for a while) had very kindly agreed to drop the three of us off and it was really nice to be waved off on what felt like a whole different trip.

The ferry was a lot larger and more glamorous than I thought it would be for a mere 3 hour journey and it reminded me very much of the Dover to Calais ferry back at home.  I was later told that the ship originally came from Europe so who knows, I maybe I had stepped aboard before.

We opted for the reclining lounge and settled in comfortably, and when the announcement came that there were freshly baked scones in the restaurant, I thought it couldn't possibly get any better.  We had been told to inform a certain member of staff that we were on the ferry so we did as we were instructed and later in the journey our names were announced, which was equally as exciting as the scones.  We were greeted with a surprise trip to the bridge to meet the captain while the ship negotiated it's way through the beautiful Sounds.  We were asked about our walk and in return told a little about the workings of the bessel.  We had an amazing view and it was a real eye opener seeing some of the fantastic properties that lined the sounds and were accessible only by boat.  We were also followed by a school of dolphins which made the trip extra special for me.  I'll never become bored of seeing dolphins.  It was a really lovely ferry ride and we topped it off with some live music in the bar.

The introduction to the south island was dramatic and challenging from day one.  We camped by the beach and after snacking on some fresh mussels David found for our dinner, we all settled down for our first night on the mainland.  In the early hours of the morning we were woken by the earth trembling below us and it felt like somebody shook me awake but when I opened my eyes I was still laying next to a still and sleepy Shalane and there was nobody else around.  An earthquake!  Nothing serious of course but I certainly felt like it was the south islands way of saying - Welcome!

The Richmond ranges were what we've all been waiting for.  Known as one of New Zealands best kept secrets (from themselves as well as tourists) the vast alpine ranges are an extremely challenging 7-8 day alpine crossing and not for the faint hearted.  We set off into the mountains and I was very excited to be so remote.  I was looking forward to the huts we would be staying in too as we didn't see many in the north.  The trails began with a few ascents which was a nice warm up for things to come and I realised that what I was dreading the most was that feeling of pure exhaustion that I've felt in the pas when climbing which I've decided is mostly due to dehydration so I made it my mission to drink and eat plenty and rest to the max in the afternoons.

The first day out of Pelorus Bridge saw us following a stunning bright green river fro most of the day.  It was one of the most beautiful rivers I've ever seen and I couldn't keep my eyes off it.  It was fresh and clear and the colour really was mesmerising. It was a pretty hot day and on one of our breaks at Captain Creek hut we all dived in to the water that had been calling my name all day.  Bloody hell it was cold - but totally amazing.  The trip had only just begun and it was already feeling like a while separate adventure to our northern expedition. 

After spending the night at Middy Hut we set off for one hell of a day.  We ascended, descended and walked on some very tricky paths.  They were thin and high with rock or slate under foot and by the end of the day I was overheated and exhausted.  It is amazing how drained you feel when you are concentrating so much on footing.  When we reached our hut I dipped my overworked feet in the refreshing turquoise water and wondered to myself hos the hell we were going to do 10 days straight!

The next day we headed to the gorgeous starveall hut, so that we were in a position to make a HUGE climb first thing the next morning.  Neither Shalane or I slept well so the day felt tough although short and when we climbed up to see the extremely cute hut sitting on the hill, surrounded by mountains and wildflower with the sun beating down, it was well worth the effort.  It was picture perfect an the 3 of us spent the afternoon sun bathing!  Everything in moderation.

The next day was epic!!!!  We began our climb up Mount Starveall straight away as the sun was rising and the clouds were still low and it felt brilliant.  The freshness of the air and getting the blood pumping, not to mention the fantastic views as we reached the top was a real buzz.  As we climbed and scrambled up the rocks above the tree line, David shouted "Is this alpine enough for you?"  And it was.  It was so different to anything we'd done so far.  Once we climbed we stayed high on the ridge line all day.  The views wee out of this world.  Mountains and mountains as far as the eye could see in every direction.  We could see where we'd walked and where we were heading and I can't begin to tell you how absolutely amazing that feeling was.  As we all stopped and took in the views David shouted "is this alpine enough for you?"  It felt like we were part of an exclusive world up there, like we couldn't get any higher.  We decided to keep trekking that day, instead of stopping at Old Man Hut, which meant a very challenging climb up both Little Mount Rintoull and Mount Rintoull.  We scrambled up to 1640m on little Mount Rintoull on rocks and scree which definitely gets the heart pumping, with the pack on our back and loose terrain under foot on a steep and high mountain, it felt scary and demanding, but it was what came next that was to be the real challenge.  We reached the top where we had the view of Mount Rintoull ahead of us and although it was only 1730m, we had to descend 250m first down a practically vertical mountain side.  If there was snow and I had a sledge, I wouldn't have hesitated but instead of snow, we had sharp, painful slate to land on.

The wind was picking up and the descent was extremely steep.  The terrain was more loose slate so with every foot we put down we were sliding with nothing to grab onto to stop us and when we did grab onto what looked like a secure big rock, the whole thing would snap off and go tumbling down the mountain and all I could think was that if I fell, I'd bounce down in the same way.  If I was to lean forward too much and start picking up momentum I'd not be able to stop until I was a broken heap on the bottom.  It was tough on the knees and tough on the heart and I honestly don't think I breathed for half an hour!  One thing is for sure, when we reached the bottom, the climb back up to Mount Rintoull looked like fun.  For this bit we needed momentum!  With every step the scree and rocks disappeared from under our feet and we were getting nowhere first.  We put all our energy into it and just kept stepping but the mountain was relentless and the top didn't feel like it was getting any closer.  The rocks that I thought were secure tumbled down for hundreds of metres I just kept stepping, the rocks I grabbed onto for support just broke off so I just kept stepping.  My adrenaline was wearing off and my determination became intermittent.  When we reached the top, the views and the feeling were completely, absolutely, 100% unbeatable.  It was alpine enough for me!  We reached the hut after a 10 hour day, did our laundry (as you do up the top of a really high mountain in a wooden hut) and ate an incredible amount of well deserved food before collapsing into bed.  It was extreme but what an accomplishment and what a day!

I am sorry to say that I am having far too much of an adventurous time to write any more, although there has been plenty more days equally as amazing.  If you want to check out Shalane's blog, she has written a little more than me about our epic adventure so far so check it out www.onelifeadventures.com

Wellington Boots!

I think we have been traumatised by the rain.  We woke up one morning on Tarakino Beach Road to the sound of the rain on the tent and we both got ready in silence, with the look of dread on our faces.  All I could think was "how long will it last?"  I don't mind a day or 2 but in my head I needed to mentally prepare for what we were facing. 

Tarakino Beach

Luckily, after half an hour of hiding, wet and shivering in the camp toilets an hour into our morning we didn't see any more rain that day.  In fact, with the wind behind us and the sand on the beach easy to walk on, I couldn't help but feel the day was turning out ok.

The beach was gorgeous, with black/brown sand and a contrasting glow of peppermint green coloured vegetation, it was different to anything I'd seen.

We stayed that night in a lovely pine forest and after borrowing some water from a kind lady with too many incredibly smelly dogs, we settled down for the night in preparation for a few days of road walking.

A few interesting mail boxes on the way

The next day was the official day that we decided not to follow Te Araroa as religiously as we have been and maybe even look ahead to amend the route to suit us.  We hadn't seen many Te Araroa signs lately but just outside of Bulls (a really lovely town which is apparently so proud of their name that even the police station displayed pictures with bulls in uniform???)  we got onto a track and off the road and began to follow the Te Araroa signs.  As a result we were faced with a landslide and a 30 metre drop and our only choice was to climb over a barbed wire fence, under an electric fence, into a field of Bulls before walking out onto a road which smelt of dead animal (clearly not the responsibility of Te Araroa) and onto the road we had left over an hour before, to find ourselves about 2 kms further down it - sometimes, it's just not worth the detour!

We basically picked blackberries all the way to Palmerston North where we had decided to spend a rest day as we had a few things on our "To Do" lists.

One thing on my list was to take my holy boots into the Hunting and Fishing store to see if they could exchange them, as a 2.5 months life span just wasn't much good to me.  It was a very surreal experience in the end as we happened to actually pass the shop on the way into town, still laden with packs.  I walked up to the counter, bent down and untied my shoe laces, put my still warm and sweaty, stinky boots on the counter and with a bit of a discussion from a couple of staff members I was soon tying up a new pair of clean, perfect, untouched boots and walking out of the store without so much of a transaction or a display of a receipt.  I wish you could do that with everything that wears out or breaks.  Yey for Hunting and Fishing!

And as it happens, you can do that with everything that wears out or breaks because later, we walked into Macpac, one of our sponsors whose customer service has always been brilliant and on this day went off the scale.  Our sleeping mats were deflating every night and despite searching for the source about 10 times with no luck, we took them back to the store to see if they could do anything, along with some merino leggings of Shalane's.  Well, by the time we left Jody and Paul at the Palmerston North branch, they had gone over and above their call of duty and then pretty much climbed a mountain for us.  Jody, after hearing about what we were doing (as we had to explain why they were sponsoring us) called the local newspaper and arranged for an interview with the journalist to try and promote our trek and raise awareness for Soloman Islands, she had given us a handful of expensive lunch bars (yummy Em's power bars that are gorgeous but out of our budget), offered to help us with absolutely anything else we waned and invited us around for dinner.  They both offered us somewhere to stay although we'd already checked into the local campsite.  They really were fantastic.  After Shalane having  not so much luck in Bivouac with HER holy boots (although now completely sorted and a very pleasing result) we finished our shopping for the day before enjoying a lovely meal and evening with Jody and her husband John. 

Our Newspaper article

I could have easily rolled over and gone back to bed the next day and it reminded me of how I felt every single day back at home.  We called into the university campus to get me some cash out of the ATM and it sent my mind thinking about what I want to do when I get home.  My head was already exploding from the events of the previous day, what with newspaper interviews and overwhelming kindness of Jody and Paul.  Now I walked along wondering if I'm still employable after so many years on the run from society or whether I should go to Uni and make my future happen rather than drift along on the clouds of fate and luck like I've been lucky enough to do so far in life.  And so, needless to say, I had a very thoughtful day and if anybody would like to employ me so that I can carry on drifting then that would be lovely.

We had a plan and it failed!  However, with a bit of Kiwi magic and a big butch logging worker with the understanding of the fairy godmother "she'll be 'right"!  We packed up early in the morning and headed to Stuart Road which was essentially an access road to the Burtton track - our next trail.  There had been a note on the Te Araroa website and signs further back to say that the road was closed Monday to Friday but we figured we'd arrive before they all started work and sneak on past.  What we didn't realise was that 7.50am was just not going to cut the mustard and these keen logging workers were there and chopping at 7am.  We plonked ourselves on the side of the cold and wet logging road, next to the high vis signs and tape saying "DANGER" and " DO NOT ENTER" and "ROAD CLOSED" - ok ok we get the point! We looked in the distance at the HUGE diggers and machines and the big sliding logs and crazy wire constructions.  A guy drove up on a big logging truck and did not look like he should be messed with.  He sped up to the "DANGER" tape, jumped out, untied it, jumped in, drove forward, jumped out, put the tape back and sped off!  If he'd at least said hello I would have ran over to him and taken the opportunity to ask if we can come through but he was Mr Unapproachable!  Shalane and I decided to wait it out.  We weren't really sure what we were waiting for but the alternative was a back track followed by a massive road walk that didn't even take us to where we really needed to go, so sitting in the ditch and waiting for something seemed like a good plan at the time. 

So we waited.....

Within half an hour Mr Unapproachable sped back up to us with his laden lorry and jumped out to untie the danger tape.  I wasn't letting him get away this time!  I ran over to him and asked if there was any chance of us walking through the destruction mayhem on their lunch break.  Well, Mr Unapproachable actually turned out to be Mr I won't hesitate to help you girls and he got onto the radio straight away before striking a deal with me that we can walk through if I re-tie the tape up when he drives past.  It sure was a good deal on our part.  So off we tottered up to the big scary digger where the gentle giant of a logging working stopped the whole scene so that we could pass by and he even gave us a running commentary on what they were doing and how on the way.  Result!

The Burtton track was awesome, despite it feeling a little bit eerie.  The track was named after Jim Burtton who lived and farmed out in the bush.  In 1941 he fell 8 metres onto some rocks in the river when a suspension bridge he had built collapsed.  He managed to take himself to his neighbours along this route with a broken leg and other injuries and it took him 12 hours.  Unfortunately, Jim later died in hospital of his injuries.  Luckily, it only took us 5 hours to walk it and no broken bones to report.  We camped that night at Tokomari Dam.  We set up tent on one of our most random camp spots, on the only patch of grass in the area., surrounded by baron logging roads.  Shalane had promised to call Sally that evening, who had insisted we'd have mobile reception from the Dam.  Sally was the owner of the Mahakika Outdoor Pursuits Centre and had acted as a food drop location for us.  When we contacted her she was extremely enthusiastic about some members of the community, including 2 guys who had built the track, coming to meet us and trek with us.  On arrival to the dam we realised we didn't have signal, but when one of the logging workers stopped for a chat on his way home from work he informed us that if we walked up the incredibly steep hill behind us in the rain, after our 8 hours of walking that day, we'd get signal.  We couldn't wait!  He zoomed off and we began to prepare ourselves for the climb.  Luckily, the nice man had realised the error of his ways (tee hee) and turned around to give one of us a ride to the top.  Shalane jumped at the chance (she really didn't have much choice).





Russel and Arlan



Everything got sorted, but as we had a 6am start time due to more logging work, we only had 2 guest trekkers arrive the next morning.  However, it turned out perfectly.  Sally kindly took some of our gear so Shalane and I trekked with day packs and Russel and Arlan were more than happy to trek at a fast pace.  Russel confessed to usually running the trail so as we flew along almost at a jog everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves.  Even his son seemed to come round to the idea although he was actually there to pay off a debt of a recently purchased mobile phone (I presume it was obtained via the bank of mum and dad).  It was brilliant having 2 locals with us who knew the area and with Russel being an Orienteer, we were in safe hands. 

After the trail we headed back to the Outdoor Centre to be greeted with everything we could have wanted and more.  Before Shalane and I hit a town or a rest day we often dream of a flushing toilet or a sink to hand wash our stinking docks in.  Never did we imagine what was to follow....



Sally cooking up a storm

Sally had arranged for us to stay in the "top house" which basically meant we had our own 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house to ourselves.  We didn't just get a flushing toilet, we got 1 each!  We had use of washing machine and a choice of books that would turn anybody into a book worm.  After the guided tour we were told to wonder down to the main house for lunch.  Sally cooked us a beautiful lunch, gave us a bag of snacks and fruit, later cooked us a BBQ along with wine, we had use of a hot tub, swimming hole, a car, more food, lunch, steak for dinner followed by another BBQ and more wine.  As you can imagine, we didn't want to leave!  The best gift of all is that they even went trekking for us.  Ok this bit is a joke.  However, Sally, her husband John and daughter Emma Kate had planned on a couple of days tramping with some friends and the section they had chosen was part of the Te Araroa trail.  Shalane and I had opted for an alternative coastal route as we wanted to ensure we made the ferry in time.  There was also bad weather on it's way which would have meant the mountain option becoming un-walkable.  So, off Sally and her family went up the mountains where they met Cookie and Nicky, a British couple who are also trekking Te Araroa (http://www.nickyandcookie.com/) who had decided to brave the mountain range,  while we relaxed in the hot tub with wine and good food.  It was tough, really tough, but somebody had to do it!

The next few days were great, mainly because we were getting closer and closer to Wellington.  We skirted between beach and road and beach and road.  The sun was shining and we stopped one evening and enjoyed a kite surfing competition on the beach.  As we approached the city on our last day.  The clouds were low and our bags had suddenly become really heavy - Our bodies knew we were there.  We arrived at lunchtime, darted to the public toilet to try and make ourselves smell less and look human, before treating ourselves to lunch in the nearest cafe/bar.  We had made it!  North Island.....tick!

David Oliver, a Kiwi who we had been chasing down the entire north island from day 1 kindly offered us a place to stay in Wellington.  He came to meet us and took us back to his house for showers and a feed and has been playing host and tour guide during our days in Wellington.  The three of us plan to ferry over to the South Island on 22 January for The Adventure of a Lifetime:  Part 2.

The north island has been so incredible!  Day 1 seems so fresh in my head and I remember my sudden realisation at the end of that day that the trek was 5 whole months long.  When locals have asked us what we've loved about the trek, the answer has to be the people.  We're living an amazing life, the simple life, out of a tent, surrounded by nature, million dollar views and so many experiences that I have lost count but the people have made this trip so far.  This trek allows you to really see New Zealand and really get chatting to the locals and they have proved to be so kind and generous and interesting and entertaining.  We've met farmers, hunters, local business owners, kids, town folk, village folk, sheep and cows galore, live possums, dead possums, and many more.  But....all this time, the whole 3 months, all people have said to us is "wait until you see the south island".  I have a new backpack thanks to Macpac doing me a fantastic deal, we have new t-shirts that aren't crusty and we both have new boots!   So here we come south island!

PLEASE NOTE THAT WE WILL NOT BE ONLINE OR CONTACTABLE AS MUCH IN THE SOUTH ISLAND DUE TO A MORE ISOLATED ROUTE.
THERE ALSO PHOTO AND VIDEO UPDATES ON THIS BLOG.
 

HAVING OURSELVES A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS!

Decorating our camp sport just north of Tongiriro Forest

Te Kuiti was a bit of a turning point for us.  We talked about how we'd been feeling and what we want to do and decided that we were just going to have to go at the trail and go at it hard.  So we packed some stuff in a box to post to Wellington so that our packs were lighter and put a notice on Facebook and our Blogs to say we wouldn't be in touch for a while.  We stuck on our Santa hats and stuck out our thumbs and hitched us a ride back to the bush.

Having now celebrated Christmas a few days early by eating way too much yummy food, we had to come to terms with the fact that the real Christmas day might be a bit of a non event this year.  Over the last few weeks we had tried to guess and plan where we'd be and it was forever changing.  What we didn't realise was that we would actually be lucky enough to reach the Tongariro Crossing on Christmas day, and I couldn't have planned a better way to spend it.

Christmas Morning as we begin the Tongiriro Crossing

The day began windy and wet with some thick, gray clouds that looked like they weren't moving.  We began the walk which was immediately exciting, as being 1000 - 2000 meters high, there was no vegetation up there and we were surrounded by grey, volcanic rock.  We were slipping and sliding our way up the steep mountain on the loose gravel when Shalane called my name behind me.  As I looked back I saw that the clouds had cleared to reveal one of the gorgeous lakes with a towering volcano behind it.  The weather just got better and better and before long the sky was clear blue and we had THE most stunning views of the lakes and craters around us.

 

We decided to take a detour and do the northern circuit and I just felt like I was absorbing everything around me.  To be so high up and walk across a huge plateau that is flattened out in front of you as far as your eyes can see, with snow capped mountains around you was such a buzz.  On Christmas night we arrived at the cosy Outere Hut where me, Shalane and about 8 others chatted and ate in the evening until heading to bed at a normal early hour.  The sunrise and low clouds were a great sight to wake up and walk to the following morning and we walked a full day to Whakapapa Village and then the next day to Whakapapa National Park, the whole two days with the snowy mountains in sight.

Once at the national park we heard the weather for the next day was going to be wet with strong winds so we took a rest day at the national park and pitched our tent in the hostel garden.  The rain was atrocious so we surrendered to a day indoors with a rock climbing wall for entertainment.

The next few days were brilliant.  Partly because DOC are pretty generous when estimating walking times for their trails so we got further each day than we thought and we finished at a decent time so spent the afternoons sunbathing and relaxing or doing yoga.  It was perfect!  New years eve saw us in bed at 8pm and we saw the new year in in our sleep.  However, after a 10 hour walk only taking  us 4 hours the next day we decided to spend the reast of new years day canoeing down the Whanganui river, instead of waiting until the following day.  Part of the trail has us canoeing down the river as the only way to get to the next section as there are no trails or roads in the area.  We had 2 days arranged on the river and they were absolutely beautiful!

The first day we were paddling fairly fast to beat the wind and get to Pipriki.  We'd set off walking at 6am that morning so to still be physically working at 5.30pm was exhausting, but to be working our arms and not our legs felt pretty good.  We did have to share the river with a couple of jet boats and other canoes and kayaks and one complete douchebag who thought we all wanted to see and hear him darting about on his speed boat.  But apart from that the dramatic, lush mountains either side of the gentle flowing Whanganui river was simply picturesque.

Just floating along!

The following day was the best.  It beats them all!  We were on the river at our usual early hour and didn't see a single soul all day.  We watched as the sun came up, we stopped for cups of tea and lunch on the rocks  along the way and sailed down the gentle (and at one point not so gentle) rapids.  The only time we used the paddle was to steer but we mostly sat and soaked up the birds chirping and gentle trickle of water as the smaall streams and waterfalls joined the river and the odd wild pig or goat making extremely random noises in the bush.  The water was dead still and the reflection of those tall, lush mountains looked like a painting.

The amazing Whanganui River

We looked behind us after one of the rapids to see the town we were meant to stop at getting smaller and smaller as we floated away from it and we secretly pleased.  There had been no clear landmarks and by the time we realised there was nothing we could do.  We continued for a few more hours down the river to the next town, taking it in turns to steer while the other laid back and sunbathed.  When we arrived in Matahiwi we borrowed a locals phone to call and tell the hire company we'd gone a bit further than planned, before pitching our tent by the river and having a swim, a relax and some dinner.

The last few days of making good distance, getting further than we had hoped and still fully enjoying our afternoons are exactly what we've been striving for the whole trip and it feels so good.  We did two days of road walking to reach Whanganui and still made it there quicker than we thought we would. 

When we got to Whanganui we were overwhelmed by how gorgeous it was.  Nobody had really talked about it so we had no idea what to expect.  We had a few practical things to do before relaxing and we decided that having not washed our clothes for...cough.....over a month, everything would need to be washed twice.  So we packed ourselves off to a cheap store in town to buy something to wear while all our belongings were having a big soak. There weren't any op shops open so we found a store that sold XXXL T-Shirts (the size being essential as they would need to cover our bums - as I said....EVERYTHING needed washing) and managed to purchase 2 for $18.  I can't tell you how amazing it felt to be putting on a different item of clothing, and one that was clean and I was clean and our clothes were being cleaned!  Oh, happy days.

I've realised that a large percentage of our low point was to do with managing our expectations.  Finding out that we had slightly longer than we thought and reaching trails that took longer than they claimed to due to a lack of maintenance put a dampener on our, already low, motivation levels. That, combined with bad weather, Shalane's illness and things just not going our way made things seem impossible.  Loosing sight of the small day to day goals and looking too far into the future at a goal that is still so far away meant that I lost momentum.

The good news is, it feels so brilliant to have come out the other end of a very low point and during that time I realised that I don't want to give up on this trek in a hurry.  We are officially back in the drivers seat.

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.

Statue at Te Kuiti, the Sheep Shearing Capital of the World!