The Final Countdown - FINALLY

Leaving Queenstown after a rest day filled with planning for the end, it was crazy to think that this would be the last leg of our journey. Heading onwards through Lord of the Rings territory to Glenorchy and onwards to the Greenstone track, my mind was filled with thoughts of all the stuff Alex and I had booked for the end of our journey. This was it – all our dreaming and hoping and finger-crossing had finally paid off. We had found a gorgeous lodge for an amazing price of which our room has twin beds with crisp, fresh sheets and two plush pillows (each!). That would have been heaven on its own, but there was more – oh, so much more. Our room had its own bathroom - shower included (think of the loo roll!), fridge and wardrobe (we can hang things up!). Not to mention that the entire lodge is absolutely perfect with a view overlooking all of Queenstown, a hot tub that can be freely used to soak our well-used muscles, a log fireplace and a massive communal kitchen. I couldn’t have imagined celebrating Te Araroa Trail in such style.





Tussock territory

 MARCH 30/11 . DAY #167 . 28 KM .

Today we tramped from Greenstone Hut to Carey’s Hut via Mararoa River – plenty of tussock and swampy bits to go around. It was annoying, but I just kept reminding myself that whatever the terrain, I would likely be bored, annoyed and/or really frustrated. As we near the end of our entire journey, I just wish more and more that I was done. Period. The effort I have to make in order to get there is beyond my ability to truly appreciate anything around me.

Instead, I focus my thoughts on the positive aspects of today’s tramp. There were no major climbs or descents. No ridiculous rivers to cross or markers to find. No sidling along mountain-faces with my feet permanently at a 45 degree angle. No warzone bush to hack through and no near-death experiences. Overall, today rated pretty good on the Te Araroa Trail scale and we now are at what is probably the last hut in our journey. Only a group of fishermen have already claimed it as theirs so Alex and I will sleep in the tent tonight.

Just as well. I prefer to remember the lovely time we had at Roses Hut with Kim (Belgium) to keep us company as our last DOC Hut experience of the trek. I only wish I had known that was going to be our last night sleeping in the hut.

And so now, sitting on the grassy hill here outside Carey’s Hut, as I squish sandflies and attempt to count all the rabbit poo (impossible) around me – I find my thoughts drifting to what’s to become of my life only a few days from now.

It seems crazy to think that in such a short period of time that Alex and I will be finished our adventure of a lifetime. It has been an experience so much greater than I could have ever imagined – I would have never guessed Te Araroa Trail was going to be like this and it amazes me that we’re actually about to finish it. From the moment I first found out about this trail, I knew I was meant to do it and that in completing it, my life would change forever. And it has.

I feel different – a new person really – than when I started out. I have been challenged so much in every way possible to get to the point I am at now that I don’t know if I’d entirely recognize the person I once was. I’ve grown up. I’ve come to terms with a lot of things about myself (both good and bad) and feel stronger about the direction I want to go in life. And it’s not even over yet.

From the bottom of my soul I feel as though by finishing this trek an entire realm of possibilities and opportunities will be available to me. All the contacts I have now. Work options. Volunteer options. Options I can’t even begin to imagine will be there for me to choose should I want. I can’t wait.

Almost done….




We're getting there...

 By the time we reached Riverton, I was in complete disbelief that we were that close to Bluff. As Alex and I gathered information at the information centre regarding tides (our next bit was beach walking) and such, the worker s there – upon hearing what we were up to – asked if we were the women in the Southland Newspaper article. We were. They then informed us that there were two residents of Riverton who had done Te Araroa Trail a couple years back and asked if we wanted to chat with them. Alex and I said “sure” and before we knew it we were sitting down with a cup of tea as we shared tales of Te Araroa Trail with the two gentlemen who had gone before us. It was fabulous to be able to talk with people who knew all about what we had been through the past 5.5 months. It’s never the same to talk with people who just simply do portions. Or people who just do tramping. Or people who just like to camp occasionally. It’s not the same as talking to people who have actually set out to do what Alex and I did – walk from Cape Reinga to Bluff in one big stretch.

Eventually we reluctantly made our way to the beach where we set off to walk to Invercargill. This was our last beach walk. There were no more mountains to climb. No more tussock. No more major river crossings. No more significant surprises from Te Araroa Trail – we were now at the bottom of the map and essentially just had to get to Bluff. Piece of cake.

That night we camped right in the middle of the sand dunes and woke up to a glorious sunrise where the sky looked as though it was on fire. We walked in silence as we both relished the beauty before us. This would be one of the last mornings we would ever see such a sight and it was bittersweet.

On April 2, 2011 Alex and I made it into Invercargill and we went into “mission mode.” We had received word from Paul up in Auckland that our stuff from storage there would be late in arriving to Queenstown. That meant that when Alex and I would get to Queenstown, we would have nothing to our name but our trekking gear on our backs. No shampoo. No clean underwear. No normal people clothes. No anything to feel as though we could strip ourselves of everything Te Araroa Trail and start fresh. Our last hope was Invercargill where we could power through the city for an Op shop to find at least one outfit to change into.



Lake Wanaka

 So we did just that.

Finding the Op shop was easy – finding everything we needed (and wanted) before the owner closed up shop shortly after we got there was the hard part. Fortunately our issue wasn’t so much as trying to find something as it was in trying to figure out what we should be putting back. Our arms quickly filled up with all different clothing pieces that we loved and fit us – we had enough for an entire new wardrobe. Each.

The store owner took pity on us and offered to hold the items there for us while we trekked the last day to Bluff and then would meet us back in Invercargill after we were done so we could pick up our clothes. She was our saving grace in that regard, so we left our new (but old) clothes with her and went on our way to buy things like new underwear, makeup, moisturizer and all things girlie. By the time we left Invercargill I was beat, but I didn’t care. It was our last night before getting to Bluff.

And in true style, Alex and I walked our way to a camp spot for the first time during the sunset. We had never, during our entire journey, still been walking while the sun set on the horizon. A first time for everything I suppose – it was a glorious one at that. Once camp was set up Alex and I spent our last waking moments of our last night telling each other that this was our last waking moments of our last night. Our last Back Country Cuisine dinner. Our last night on sleeping mats that didn’t inflate. Our last night sleeping in our pea pod tent. Our last night putting up the tent. Our last night peeing blindly in the bush. Our last night sleeping on a pillow made of clothes stuffed in our sleeping bag covers. Our last night over everything – it was our last night.

And the following morning we woke to be taking note of our lasts of everything as well. Our last time boiling water over a gas stove outside. Our last morning waking up before the sun. Our last time eating nearly plain oatmeal. Our last time packing everything up. Our last time packing up the tent. Our last time to be walking – anywhere. It was our last day.



Alex and I walking during sunrise onroute to Invercargill

 Making our way to Bluff was both exciting and painful. We had to walk along the State Highway to get there and for the better part of the morning we could see it in the distance, but it just never quite felt like we could get there quick enough. Instead, I tried to focus my thoughts on reflecting on everything Alex and I had gone through in the past months. Cape Reinga. 90 Mile Beach. Alex’s first foot injury. Healing time at Kerikeri. Getting lost in the Mangamukas. Kerikeri – the second time. The fierce Gorse bush of Russell Forest. The coastal beauty along the east of the North Island. Sheepworld in Dome Valley. Kayaking Puhoi River. Getting to Auckland. Walking for what seemed like forever to get out of Auckland. The painful State Highway #1 walk into Hamilton. Pirongia Forest with the DOC hunters (jellybeans). Getting to Te Kuiti after days of walking in the rain. Getting to Bog Inn Hut after more days of rain. Wanting to quit. Getting Giardia. Having to escape the forest for a doctor. Ending up back at Te Kuiti. Celebrating Christmas early. Getting to Tongariro Crossing for Christmas Day. Getting to Whanganui River for New Year’s Day. Pressing onwards through Whanganui, Bulls, Fielding and Palmerston North. The lovely workers of Macpac Palmerston North. The hospitality we found in Makahika (thanks Sally!). Doing the coastal walk down to Wellington. Meeting up with David. North Island – finished.

And then there was the south island. The Pelorus River. The Richmond Ranges. St. Arnaud. Nelson Lakes area. Waiau Pass. St. James Walkway. Boyle Village. Rest day in Hanmer Springs (fell in love). Back on the track down to Arthur’s Pass. David parts ways with us. We go to Greymouth for Alex’s second foot injury. The earthquake of February 22 happens. We go to Christchurch to help out. Eventually we get back to Arthur’s Pass to continue walking. Down we go to Lake Coleridge, Lake Tekapo and Twizel. I go to the physio for my potential injuries. We continue on to Lake Hawea, Wanaka and eventually Queenstown. From there we head straight down to Riverton, Invercargill and now Bluff.

By the time Alex and I made it to the coastal walkway around the bend to Stirling Point, my mind had shifted gears to reflecting on the small memories of the trail that both made me want to keep going forever and throw in the towel to leave it all behind. The Gorse bush. The mountain climbs. The sunrises. The stars in the sky. Our home – the pea pod. Putting up the tent. Taking down the tent. Falling over with my pack on. The blisters on my feet. Getting lost. Finding our way. The roads. The trails. The farmland. The beaches. The every type of terrain that we had to conquer. The endless pages of map we went through. Throwing out a piece of the map that we had completed. Picking up rubbish every day. The random conversations with locals. The culture shock when we got to a town. The excitement we’d have over finding a Pick N Mix in a grocery store. Finding the perfect bush to pee behind. The sandflies. The huts. The rivers. The cliffs. The maze of everything we had to go through to get to where we were.



Stirling Point, Bluff - WE'RE DONE!!

 And – eventually – at 12:40pm Alex and I rounded the final bend to spot the signpost at Stirling Point. We had done it! Walking up to that signpost – to touch that signpost, everything I could possibly be feeling was being felt at that point. I am not sure I could ever begin to describe the emotion that was overflowing from me that that point. It was difficult to know what to do first, if anything – the tears, the excitement, the relief, the grief – it was all there. We had finished. Cape Reinga to Bluff. 2829KM and we had made it.

And now we’ve made it back to Queenstown after one interview for a newspaper, four car rides, one pit stop in Invercargill for our clothes, one coffee stop before Queenstown, a stop off at the grocery store and one tax ride. We are here. At our lodge. Our room. Our beds. It feels fabulous and the shower hasn’t even been had yet. We are done. Complete. I don’t know if it will ever completely sink in. I don’t know if I ever want it to.