STOP! Safety Zone

After a total of 17 days off from tramping, Alex and I took to the trail again. It both felt incredibly foreign and completely like home – all at the same time. Everything felt utterly insignificant and yet entirely refreshing, but most of all, everything hurt.

Back on the track, Alex and I take a break

My body has been resting so much in the last few weeks that it’s currently wondering what the heck is going on now that Alex and I are back on track walking extra long days with 20kg on our backs. Shoveling silt in Christchurch and walking the streets to hand out pamphlets all day was nothing in comparison to Te Araroa Trail and so now that we’re back into the swing of things my body is screaming at me in protest. I’ve told it to suck it up. We still have a long way to go.

The distance alone is something to keep us pushing forward, but when we arrived back in Arthur’s Pass on March 6; we could see a lovely layer of snow had sprinkled the tops of the mountains. Te Araroa Trail is no longer just something we want to finish sooner rather than later, it has become a race against the season change.



MARCH 8/11 . DAY #145 . 35 KM .

“Second Day Syndrome.” Or at least that’s what I call it. It’s what happens to my mental state every time we “restart” trekking and I hit Day #2. My body aches in pain and my mind screams for me to stop. I become lazy and lethargic, wanting to take extra long breaks and eat all the time. The first day I’m fine. Third day I’m great. It’s the second day that truly throws me for a loop.




View from above - where we've walked from

 Regardless of that fact, Alex and I still put in for along day today and it feels good to know we’ve done it regardless of the Second Day Syndrome. Bring it on.




By March 9, Alex and I had made it to our next food drop at Glenthorne Station near Lake Coleridge. We opened our food box only to find out rather quickly that there was no way we would be able to carry all that food. When we were in Christchurch there was so much food being handed out to the student army that Alex and I were able to stock up on muesli bars, scroggin and all things trek-worthy. We were so set with regards to food that by the time we reached Glenthorne Station there was much need for us to even pick up more food. And so we took what we could, squished it into what little space was left in our packs and sent the rest of our food onwards.

From there we set off to conquer the Rakaia River by none other than hitching a ride around. Now, before everyone gasps to say we cheated in doing this, I will explain. This well known massive river is set in a deep gorge and is so powerful and deep that it is ridiculous to consider crossing it on foot. Naturally, Te Araroa Trail has made that part of the trail a safety zone. The only way to cross it is to go around. It was a “natural break” to the trail and because it would have taken Alex and I an extra day or two to walk around it (all on the highway), we opted to speed up the process. The only issue was that the ride we got around couldn’t take us all the way to the trailhead on the other side. So we needed a ride with a second car.

Alex and I stood on the side of that road for what seemed like an eternity, quickly finding out that the road was so quiet that the main form of traffic was farmers herding their sheep from one paddock to the next. And so, as we watched them work, driving by on their ATVs, Alex and I occupied ourselves by playing I Spy, 20 Questions and other games we made up such as throwing pebbles at a big rock to see who could hit it first.

About two hours later the school bus (more like a van with a sign stuck on it saying “school bus”) drove by and asked what we were up to. We told the driver where we were hoping to go and he offered to take us at 6am the next morning before he picked up the kids for school. We agreed and then promptly went into the bush to find a camp spot for the night.

At promptly 6am the next morning the driver came and picked us up and took us to the trailhead. Definitely made my first trip on a school bus memorable with Alex and I squished in the back with our packs, reading the newspaper the driver brought, chatting up the driver and watching the sunrise. Brilliant way to start the day!

The day continued on as lovely as it started. And so did the next day. And the next. Before we knew it, we made it to Manuka Hut. As sweet as its name.



MARCH 13/11 . DAY #150 . 31 KM .

Me crossing a braid in the Rangitata River

Ever since Christchurch, I’ve felt as though a bit of the adventure in this trek had been lost. As though maybe Alex and I reached a climatic point in our journey and from now on it is more a matter of making some distance while counting down the days until we reach Bluff. Today I was proved wrong.


Today began with Alex and I waking earlier than everyone else (6am) in Manuka Hut to get ready to be on the track by 7am. It was to be just another day, but with one exception. We had the minor detail of having to get to the other side of Rangitata River. Not an easy task given the sheer magnitude of the river’s width. At about 3km wide, it doesn’t take one shouldn’t cross it in bad weather.


Last night Alex and I had been informed that rain was on its way – for tomorrow. That meant our window of opportunity to cross the Rangitata River was quite small. We had to do it today or risk getting stuck waiting for the water levels to go down. And so we went.

Reaching the rivers “edge” just north of Potts River, Alex and I took a deep breath and headed onwards. It took us a mere 2.5 hours to cross the 42 braids of the massive Rangitata River and once on the other side we were beat. With only enough energy to set up tent, chow down on some Back Country Cuisine and go to sleep. Tomorrow the adventure continues.

A DOC Hut