Here at the YHA Backpackers tucked within the National Park (Tongariro) things are feeling pretty cozy as the rain pelts down outside. Fortunately, the ugly weather is meant to pass by the end of today. I don't know what I'd do if I had to face walking in rain like the last stretch again.
Bog Inn Hut lived up to its name as Alex and I ended up spending a total of 3 nights there - partly because of the rain. Partly because of upset stomachs. The first day was alright as we had planned to rest up for the day (after 5 days of pushing hard) and then head in deeper within the Pureora Forest on route to Tongariro. But the second morning came and there was still rain (day #7, in fact) and both Alex and myself had upset stomachs (mine worse from the day before) that sent us running to the loo every few minutes. That combined with no motivation to trek - well, we hopped straight back into bed for the day.
As December 22 wore on, our spirits dampened with the rain. I can only speak for myself when I say that I felt stuck - "bogged in," if you will. I felt trapped in every sense of the word. The last weeks worth of tramping had gotten to me in the worst way and I had had enough. I truely wanted to be done - but I didn't see any way out. I didn't want to quit.
So, instead, I wallowed in my self pity, consumed with thoughts of the terrible weather and my overall frustration at wanting to finish the trek so badly, but being so far away from doing so that the finish line seemed impossible to cross. It would have been so easy that day to give up. It would habe been so easy to throw in the towel and tell Alex I had had enough and wanted to be done. I was tired of the rain. I was tired of the walking. I was tired of trying to conquor a trail whose difficult terrain could bring a full fledged army sobbing to their knees. I was tired of it all. Broke. Sick. Sore. Tired. Period.
But I couldn't quit. Even more than the frustration of knowing there was still so much to do to finish walking, I couldn't face the thought of actually quitting. I couldn't imagine what I would say to everyone when they'd ask me why I didn't go on. I knew I would be haunted for the rest of my life if I didn't finish what I had started. The worst of it is that there is not even an adequate way of describing the low point I was at that day without making it sound as though I'm a wimpy girl whining over a little rain and bad luck. How DOES one begin to describe what makes them feel like curling up in a ball and letting the world pass them by? It wasn't as though something significantly major had happened to make me feel that way. It was all the little things. It was the fact that I could see my bank account getting lower and lower in its total sum and there was nothing I could do about it. It was the day after day routines that resulted in boredom. It was the terrain that wouldn't give up. The vines. The blackberry bushes. The thornbushes. The gorse. The countless other bushes and plants who actually appear to have an attack planned out in order to defeat all trekkers passing by. It was me being sick. Us being behind. Even the fact that our lighter broke and our matches wouldn't light played a part in it all.
But I refused to quit. Alex refused to give up as well. And so we put our heads together to try and come up with a plan on how we could push our bodies just a little bit harder in order to make up for lost time and get us to Wellington in time for our ferry crossing on January 22.
And then December 23 happened. Alex and I woke at our normal time, raring to go for sunrise. Only issue was that my stomach didn't agree with our plans. What had begun as a simple case of an upset stomach had turned for the worse, as every few minutes my stomach would knot up with fiery pain and in between those moments I'd be running to the loo in order to relive my body of everything from the inside. Topped off with being so nauseous that I couldn't even contemplate the idea of food - it was cause to start worrying.
So we went with a Plan B. Reroute off the mountains to the road and hitch to the nearest town for a doctor. The only issue was that the closest place to access the road from the trail was on the east side of the forest. Our maps showed sections of the west only. Not only were we not sure of how to access the main highway from where we were, but we were unable to figure out where the nearest town was from there.
As it were, Alex and I took the chance and walked our way into the unknown, me ripping my pack off every so often to hobble into the bush for what Alex would call a "butt explosion." We were eventually able to get cell reception in order to call DOC to direct us through the maze of forestry roads to the main highway. They responded by contacting one of the local workers in the area to come and pick us up and even drive us to the nearest town (Mangakino) which was 30 minute drive away.
Before I knew it, I was in the doctor's office being informed that I had Giardia, a water-borne parasite found in New Zealand's rivers and such. The half a cup of untreated water I had drank 3 days earlier wasn't sounding like such a brilliant idea anymore.
Even still, I was happy to finally have a solution for my issues. I still had a problem though - no where in the entire town took credit cards as payment and the ATM wouldn't accept my Australian bank card. Between the 2 of us, Alex and I had about $5 cash to our names - there was no way we could pay for accommodation in the town and it was too late in the day to walk our way out in order to freedom camp.
In sorting out our delemma, the doctor realized our situation and generously offered to drive us to anywhere on her way home to Hamilton after work. We gladly accepted and found ourselves arriving shortly after back in Te Kuiti, where we had been only 7 days prior. As if our spirits couldn't be dampened further, it was rather depressing to drive back past all the places we had walked only to arrive where we had set off from a week prior. We had officially done a full loop. It honestly felt as though we had arrived back at square one and the feeling wasn't all too great.
But we chose to look on the bright side. The first time we had been in Te Kuiti, it marked the start of our mental motivation downslide. We had been granted a second chance. A "do-over." We were determined to do it our way.
And so - given we had already staked out Te Kuiti's layout the week before - we figured we'd make use of the New World supermarket down the road and celebrate Christmas the way we had been envisioning for so long. I only crossed my fingers in hope that my stomach would behave on the meds so I could fully enjoy the food we were to eat.
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| Alex digging into our Christmas feast |
The Christmas celebrations didn't end there either. The next morning (December 24) we dished into some cinammon fruit loaf, mandarin oranges, yogurt and OJ. Then we shipped off a bunch of unnecessary gear to Wellington in order to lighten our packs, thereby allowing us to go further each day, put on our Santa's hats and stuck our thumbs out in hopes for a ride back to where we needed to be.
By December 25, things continued to work for us as we found ourselves at Tongariro admist an astounding number of tourists. After being on relatively unuseed trails for so long, it was almost a culture shock to be in and amongst so many hikers that we were either passing someone or being passed every few minutes.
And so we walked, climbing what seemed to be a million stairs to get to the top. The ridge line we walked was narrow and steep, wind gusts threatening to blow us over the edge to the inactive volcanic craters below. What little visibility we had only allowed the imagination to run wild on what could be.
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| Me at the Emerald Lakes, Tongariro Crossing |
The following 2 days went smooth as well, Alex and I making our way to the Tongariro National Park. We found out about the weather and when it was known today would be rather unwalkable due to the rain and wind, we decided to stay and extra night. It helped knowing the YHA comes complete with a TV lounge, hot showers and a full scale rock climbing wall. We're set for the day.
Next stop: Whanganui River.
TOTAL: 1300 KM
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