After a very quiet night camping by the river, I woke up at 6:30am excited for what the next ten days would hold as I headed into the Richmond Ranges.
The Richmonds are part of New Zealand vagabond folklore. It is one of the longest alpine traverses in the country and is considered one of the most challenging and remote hikes in the country. It has a little bit of everything. Multiple bridgeless river crossings, incredibly steep ascents and descents on unstable terrain, huge expanses of beautiful beech forests, and of course stunning views if you’re lucky enough to have a clear day or two.
So, with all this in mind, I lifted my incredibly heavy backpack, loaded it with nine days of my delicious food (see my nutrition post for all the details), and started walking towards the big hills often referred to as mountains.
The first hour was, to my utter horror, asphalt. My allergy was instantly aggravated. I tiptoed over some of the rougher parts of the road surface, I must say it was very difficult to avoid. The family of pigs running to breakfast on a farm I passed managed to distract me from the terrible conditions under my feet for a while.
Luckily after an hour the nasty bitumen surface came to an end as the New Zealand government had clearly run out of my taxable income and thankfully the dirt road took over from my paws.
Breakfast time
Shortly after, a farmer was kind enough to create a small oasis on his property.
The sign said that everyone was welcome to sit, relax and enjoy the fruit from their trees. Absolutely Kiwi in their hospitality, there was even a sink in the corner to wash dishes. I sat down eating overnight oats and enjoying the serenity.
All too soon it was time to continue moving along the path that wound its way inexorably towards the Ranges cxv6.
It took about three hours to reach the trail. It’s always a wonderful feeling to go from the road to a walking trail and I took off into the woods.
Bridges
Kiwis are very nonchalant when it comes to building bridges in the hinterland. There seems to be an air of «she’ll be right, mate», which requires a fair amount of bravery when jumping into one of the flimsy contraptions posing as a safe way to cross a ravine.
Take this rickety hunk of metal as an example. The first sign of concern is the yellow exclamation point on the sign. The second is the words below the score that one person says the most. Now people come in a variety of different shapes and sizes, so the first thing I’m wondering is what is the maximum size person this swinging bridge mess can tolerate?
Still, there’s nothing left to do but do like Tarzan and hope the bridge gods are on my side today. Fortunately, they seem to be there as I move to the other side without any malfunctions.
I continue through a beautiful forest under a clear blue sky and arrive at the emerald ponds. It looks like a great place to enjoy my meal, so with very little ceremony I tear into my peanut butter covered wraps.
After an hour of contemplative rest gazing at the mesmerizing deep, crystal-clear pools, I move closer and deeper into the forest.
A short, very steep climb up a poorly placed hill brought me ever closer to my destination for the night. After the hill, the road leveled out once again as it slowly made its way along one of the many rivers that crisscrossed the Ranges.
Captain Creek
All too soon my day of hiking ended. I arrived at the cabin and was greeted by the most populous of all Richmond’s inhabitants, the sandfly.
The voracious insect that turns European hikers into whimpering children was very happy to welcome me to the creek and camp.
Of course, there are strategies to deal with this killer. The first is to cover yourself with clothing from head to toe. This is a part of the world where pants are a clear winner over shorts. I know guys can get very passionate about shorts and pants and the argument can go on well into the night.
All I will say is that you come to the South Island of New Zealand in shorts at your own risk. Other viable strategies include diving into the nearest body of water with a snorkel or sticking in the mud Predator style.
Camp tasks
I attacked my tasks with enthusiasm. I’ll go through them in chronological order.
1. Throw the heavy load on the ground and curse it for the weight it made you bear.
2. Take off your shoes and socks and soak in the ice water to cool your swollen feet and do double duty by filtering 2 liters of water for the rest of the day.
3. Eat afternoon snacks and prepare a cold dinner.
4. Enter the cabin to avoid sand flies and put your legs in an elevated position for fifteen minutes. This is an absolute game changer in muscle recovery.
5. Place the tent on the flattest ground near the cabin.
With chores completed, I settled into camp life and spent most of the rest of the daylight hours chatting with other tramps.
Soon it was midnight for hikers and I retreated to my tent. As it was still a long weekend in New Zealand, there were plenty of local families camping and enjoying the fire, so I put on my earplugs and said goodbye to the world for a few hours.
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:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc():format(jpeg)/Jim-Nantz-in-the-booth-during-the-third-round-of-the-Memorial-Tournament-011725-8783ac2134714bff9d167fa8a80ee1de.jpg?w=238&resize=238,178&ssl=1 "El comentarista deportivo de CBS Jim Nantz explica el origen emocional detrás de la frase icónica «Hola amigos»")
