Sea to Summit and Back Again

Sitting here in the comfortable shelter of the DOC campground in St. Arnaud, it is easy to look back on the days since Pelorus Bridge and feel as though it was all just a blur. The mountains. The trees. The crystal clear river waters. The horrendous rain and wind. The neverending mountain climbs. The scree, boulders, roots and mud. The birds, bees and wasps. Everything and nothing and all that was inbetween. It was an adventure of a lifetime and it was only a few days of my life. It's crazy to think that that was our intro to the south island and that there is yet so much more to come. My body and mind feels numb to the thought of what we have been through. It all began with a river. Pelorus River.


January 25/11 . DAY #103 . 27 KM .

Today we entered the forest without looking back. I woke with the feeling of excitement. This was it. It was like Christmas to think of what was yet to come and know that I truely had no idea. I only knew that I would love it and could only hope that I would be able to absorb it all - freeze it in time - so I could remember it forever.

David, Alex and I trekked our way along Pelorus River where we continued to catch glimpses of the crystal clear mountain waters as we weaved our way in and out of trees. As the afternoon wore on the sun continued to get hot, sweat dripping down every ounce of my being as I trudged my feet forward. Eventually we made it to Captian Creek Hut and though this was not our planned destination for the day, we decided to make a pit stop there and were pleasantly surprised to find that it was not only close to the river, but that it housed by the most beautiful and prestine swimming hole. We hade to do it. 

Alex crossing a river via swing bridge

The clothes came off one by one until the three of us were down to our knickers and then we went in knowing full well that it was going to freeze us senseless. By the time I got to the river's edge David and Alex were already in the water commenting endlessly on how cold it was. I took a deep breath and took the plunge. What little breath was left in my lungs was immediately gone as I began gasping for air - anything to warm up my increasingly freezing being. As the icy waters surrounded me I knew it was all or nothing. I forced myself to fill my lungs with air and then ducked under the waters, completely submerging myself. It brought me back. It brought me back to the times of swimming in mountain rivers back at home. It brought me back to the times of washing from the fresh mountain waters of the Rockies. It brought me back to home. It was home. I loved it. And I was bloody freezing.

Now we sit in Middy's Hut reflecting on the beautiful first day we've had here in the forest and contemplating what tomorrow will bring. All I can say is that I hope there is more adventure. More memories. More things that I will treasure in my experiences here on Te Araroa Trail.


January 26/11 . DAY #104 . 17 KM .

We've made it to Browning Hut and thought the kilometres don't show it - it's been a long day. Everything feels sore and tired and then some. I suppose most of that is to do with not getting much sleep last night in Middy Hut. I tossed and turned most of the night in hopes that my mind would calm down and my body cool off, but no such luck.

SO as a result - today was the day that never seemed to end. And yet we only walked 17 KM.


January 27/11 . DAY #105 . 10 KM .

Yet another sleepless night filled with mosquitoes and a stuffy hut - this morning I awoke with a feeling of complete and utter dread of the walk we had to do today. Not only did we have to walk for a full day in order to stay on schedule, but it was a day of walking up - ALL day. 900m up. Tough. There wasn't really an option for me to put up my hand and ask for a rest day. We had to keep going. Our food will only hold out so long in these mountain ranges and there isn't exactly a "get out of jail free" card to use. Weather can be tempermental and the nearest exit is a few days walk.

Starvell Hut after a 900m climb to the ridgeline

And so I packed everything up and put my boots on like every other day and the 3 of us set off again. As the theme of the day was UP, we spent our time climbing to get to the ridgeline that will be our trail for the next few days. As far as I was concerned, my body felt as though it hadn't even paused to take a breath from trekking yesterday. Every step was a complete effort.

My only saving grace was that there happened to be a hut at the top of the ridgeline where we could make it a short day and rest for the remainder of the afternoon. So now I sit here overlooking amazing views of both the valley below and the coastline (Nelson included) and it feels awesome to be here, but I only hope that by tomorrow I will feel as good as new.


January 30/11 . DAY #108 . 7 KM .

Alex, David and I have made it to Top Wairoa Hut here and decided to pack it in for the day. The wind is howling outside and we've been told some sort of storm front is predicted to be coming in with a bit of rain. Not exactly ideal when the rest of our planned route today was to head up to Mt. Elis (1615m) and rock hop our way along a majorly exposed section before making our way to the next hut. And so we wait here in the valley with hopes that by tomorrow morning mabye the worst of the weather will have passed us by.

It's amazing to me to think that we still have about 2 more days to get to St. Arnaud from here. It feels as though the last time I saw civilization was ages ago, but in reality it was only 6 days ago. So much has happened since coming to the Richmond Ranges that it's any wonder what the rest of the South Island will have in store for us.

A couple days ago (January 27) when we were all hunkered down in Starvell Hut after spending the afternoon sunbathing on top of the ridgeline, I could only imagine what the following days would bring.

January 28 I finally woke up feeling rested after having 2 nights of barely sleeping. The three of us set off along the ridgeline before many of the clouds had even begun to lift. There's something to be said about being on top of a ridgeline that high when all you can see is the mountain ranges surrounding you. Mountain after mountain stretched out before us. The valleys were so deep we couldn't see the bottoms. It was exhilerating. There will never be a single photo to sufficiently depict the view as we saw it that day.

As the day went on, we eventually reached the top of Old Man Mtn and figured we'd continue walking onwards to Rintoul Hut, surpassing our day's goal of reaching Old Man Hut. In order to do that though, we had to climb over Mt. Rintoul whose peak reached 1731m. To top it off, the entire top of the mountain was bald, only loose rocks and scree covered its surface. During lunch Alex, David and I geared up for what would be an anticipated few hours of scrambling Mt. Rintoul's surface.

And it was. By the time we reached the top of Little Rintoul (right beside Mt. Rintoul and really not so "little" at 1643m) we were finding ourselves pressed up against a rocky wall, gripping its edges as we carefully manuevered our feet along a ledge only a few inches wide. One wrong move or one large gust of wind and the weight of our packs would drag us into the depths below. I made a silent vow to myself that I wasn't going to let that happen. I only hoped Alex and David were as determined and focused as I did not want to have to go body retrieving.

Morning sun on the ridgeline

Fortunately the three of us managed to get to the other side of Little Rintoul's peak unscathed, but the adventure did not stop there. It was a mere 250m down the nearly vertical slope on the other side we had to do before then trudging up Mt. Rintoul to its peak. All on loose rock and scree. I was a little aprehensive about having to do that after already walking for nearly a full day on difficult terrain, but I didn't really clue in as to how difficult the next bit would actually be. How could I? I had never attempted such a feat before.

As it turned out - the descent of 250m proved to be one of the most challenging things I've ever had to do while trekking. Not because I have never gone down bits that steep before. Not because I have never walked on scree and loose rock before. And definitely not because I have never had to push myself at the end of a long day. It was one of the most challenging things I've had to do because it was everything put together into one and I was quite honestly scared of what the outcome would be each time I took another step down.

Alex and David managed to cruise along the barely existent trail so that I was left a fare ways back, determined not to give up though everything in my mind and body screamed otherwise. The angle of the slope was so severe that I had to maintain a permanently squatted position though my quads screamed in pain. Each step taken was a gamble on its own as I would regularly set my foot down only to find everything underneath of it move under the new weight, sliding my foot further down than I initially planned. It because a game of me against the mountain as I slowly inched my way down 250m, tears streaming down my face in tiredness, frustration and fear that I could make a mistake at any moment. It felt as though I was stuck in a bad dream and couldn't wake up. I wanted out but refused to be one of those people who freeze in fear to the point where some rescue team has to extract them from the situation.

Eventually I made it down to where Alex and David were waiting for me and after a short break we then started to make our way up Mt. Rintoul. Every step was an effort - the wind trying to topple us as we slowly inched our way up. It seemed easier and harder then going down and before long I made the final step to the peak of Mt. Rintoul. It was here that it felt as though the world had stopped. The wind stopped. I couldn't hear anything except for my own heartbeat as I took it all in.

Standing ontop of the highest point of the Richmond Alpine Track I felt as though I was on top of the world. I took a deep breath of the crisp alpine air, raised my arms and screamed out a hollar at the top of my lungs in celebration of what we'd just done. I had made it and it felt good.

From there the 3 of us took our legs of jelly down to the treeline where we settled into Rintoul Hut for the night with fingers crossed that our bodies would recover for the next days adventures. They did. Since Rintoul Hut the adventure has continued with many moments of wonder at the beauty around us. And now, here at Top Wairoa Hut we wait out some bad wind and rain in hopes that it will clear enough for us to continue. Food is getting low and though it's been fun in the Richmond Ranges, I'm ready for a little bit of civilization again. I'm ready for a hot shower and fresh food. I'm ready for a real toilet with unlimited supply of loo roll. I'm ready for St. Arnaud. I'm ready for the adventure to continue.


January 31/11 . DAY #109 . 10 KM . 

So we've made it to Hunter's Hut after a grueling 4.5hrs of battling fierce wind and rain to get here. This morning we'd woken to the wind howling and decided to wait out the weather until lunch in hopes that it would ease up. It did. Barely.

By 11:30am the three of us said goodbye to the comfortable shelter of Top Wairoa Hut and tenatively edged our way up to the ridgeline that would eventually pass Mt. Elis and then take us down to the valley on the other side. 

Just getting up to the ridgeline was a struggle as the rain pelted down on us and the wind blew so hard there was numerous times I lost my balance as I attempted to maintain my footing among the tall grasses and scattered boulders.

And then there was the ridgeline itself. I happened to be leading our trio of troops at that moment in time so I got the first taste of what was in store for us. More wind.

I came up over the top of the ridge, bent so closely to the ground that I almost was crawling just so that I could get enough power with my legs to propel myself forward. The wind was blowing directly at me - somewhere in the realm of 70-80km/hr. Once I reached the pole marker I forced myself to stand up straight and then after a quick glance backwards to ensure Alex and David had their feet still firmly on the ground, I pressed on. Only 4km to get to the treeline on the other side. 

The wind continued to try and blog me over with a considerable force as I summoned all my strength and determination to focus on the next orange pole marker threathening to disappear in the clouds swirling around. Marker to marker we marched, fighting the wind and rain. Tears welling in my eyes from the cold air and my nose running like a leaky faucet. But we were doing it and that's what counted most. The way I figured it - the full week of depressing weather in the North Island prepared me for that hour of struggle.

Alex, David and I overlooking Richmond Ranges

And now that it is all over and I sit here all cozy and warm in the hut, it all seems like a dream. The sky has cleared so that the sun shines and there is no sign of rain having ever been here.

Tomorrow we plan to make it to St. Arnaud and that feels pretty damn good.


And so we have. The real toilets with an endless supply of loo roll awaited us with what seemed like open arms. David, Alex and I stumbled into St. Arnaud yesterday after pushing out a whopping 36km. Tired, slightly delirious, stomachs rumbling with hunger and sore points dotting our body from multiple wasp stings we arrived at the biggest form of civilization since Pelorus Bridge - a gas station. We heaved off our packs and proceded to clear the shop of its One Square Meals, fresh fruits/veggies, chocolates, oatmeal, tea and anything else we could get our hands on. We were back to the "real"
world and it felt good.

The ironic part is that today (our rest day) I have realized that while we have come to St. Arnaud excited to be reaching a point of civilization on our journey along Te Araroa Trail, most of everyone else enjoying the DOC campground here with us have come for the reason that they have wanted to leave civilization behind them and "get away from it all." They come here to be part of the wilderness and leave all the hussle and bussle of normal life back at home. For us this is the most people we have come across in a long time and the idea of not having to ration loo roll thrills us to the core.


** NOTE: Though this blog was posted at a later date/time, it was originally written for posting on February 2/11