Peace and tranquility. I just have to do more of this camping thing, nothing around other humans. I slept very well. Little did I know that these first moments of the day, when I woke up feeling refreshed and rested, would be the best moments I would experience until I met Sticky.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. I made the strategic decision to eat a protein bar for the first breakfast this morning and then make like a Hobbit and have a second breakfast when I arrived at Blue Lake Hut.
So my morning routine was quick. I was on the road twenty minutes after I woke up. I arrived at the first cabin fifteen minutes later. I waved to the locals as I passed by.
The first four kilometers passed without incident. There were even small hints of blue pockets in an otherwise cloudy sky and I was hoping to get views from the highest point on the entire Te Araroa trail.
I crossed a beautiful beech forest. Nelson Lakes is by far one of the highlights of the trail. I’ve spent a lot of time in the park and it never ceases to amaze me.
Leaving the forest behind, I was lucky enough to see this view. Looking at this photo, you would think it was going to be an extraordinary day. You would be wrong. Terribly bad.
As he moved down the river valley, the blue sky was replaced by a non-blue sky. The New Zealand summer weather gods had decided to ignore all forecasts and create clouds. Lots and lots of clouds.
polish
Keen readers of my rants will know that I broke my last pole in the Tararuas. That break was my fault. I buried the pole in deep, thick mud and then inadvertently tried to pull it out at a very different angle.
Today I broke the pole. Again. This time, not about me. I was approaching the cabin as the temperature continued to plummet and the rain clouds increased in size and depth. I stood up from the pole and heard a snap. My first thought was absolute denial. I didn’t even want to look at the post. That’s how deep the denial was. If I didn’t look, it wouldn’t be broken. Then I looked. It was broken.
I think it’s fair to say that Fizan poles are not a good option for me. As I walked dejectedly down the trail I began to accept the reality of my situation. My plan was to camp at the end of the day. This was due to the immense distance he would have to travel to reach the cabin on the other side of the pass. With only one pole, my Durston becomes very difficult to launch without doing MacGyver things.
Still, this was a problem for my future. I arrived at Blue Lake Hut mid-morning, eager to get inside to warm up as it was very cold. I started my second breakfast and asked the cabin keeper about the forecast. I was met with a typical New Zealand response: «Tomorrow is going to be worse.» This didn’t create much confidence in how today will play out.
I made a short detour to Blue Lake (this helps explain the name of the nearby cabin). Although I was very impressed by the crystal clear water of the lake, my attention was diverted by the water that had started falling from the sky.
Conditions deteriorate
So my choice was simple. Hunker down in the hut for a couple of days while the unforeseen bad weather passes or settle in and climb to the highest point of Te Araroa in the rain.
You know me. Take out I did it. From the refuge I began the first climb to Lake Constance. As I gained more altitude, the temperature dropped significantly and I realized that from that point on it was either keep moving or risk hypothermia. New Zealand really needs to figure out how summer works.
After a good climb above Lake Constance, the trail loses all progress and takes you back to the lake shore. At this point I’m wondering how fast I can walk to generate any kind of body heat I can. The weather is kind enough to eliminate one of my most important senses. View.
So now I’m in the cloud. It’s still raining from the clouds above the clouds I’m in. And navigation gets tricky as I try to spot the next orange pole. And I realize that sheltering in place is not an option since there are no trees around to help me fix my broken trekking pole. Oh yes, I also walk with a cane. And I’m about to climb some scree on an incredibly steep climb to the pass.
Fear not, dear reader. As I thought about all these things, I realized it was going to be a great story. So I laughed a little and continued accumulating things.
The climb was fucking brutal. Easily the steepest section of trail I’ve encountered so far. You often take a step forward and then slide back past where you started the step. A pole didn’t help at all. I continued to focus on how fun it would be to write this very blog and kept climbing the slope.
Waiau Pass. 1,870m. In true Kiwi fashion, there are no signs, rock cairns or any other indication that you’ve arrived. Of course, I stopped to take a photo where I thought it might have been because a steep, rocky covered scree turned into a steep, rocky covered scree.
As you can see the views were… well, I imagine on a clear day they are very good. I paused long enough to take this photo and then spent the next few hours downhill trying not to die with a running pole.
I’m glad I had breakfast twice because I was very clear that there would be no lunch today. The conditions were arctic cold and the best thing I could do was keep moving until I escaped the clutches of this mountain.
After what seemed like a couple of weeks, but was more like a couple of hours, I arrived at the base of the mountains. Visibility had improved now that I was out of the cloud and the rain had slowed to a much more manageable drizzle. I drank heartily at the edge of the river and began to descend the valley.
Of course, my drama wasn’t over yet. There were multiple river crossings without bridges and I managed to have an incident at one of these crossings. Now keep in mind that I have been teaching online courses on rock jumping river crossing for decades. You can visit my website at seanrockhops.com. So you can only imagine how embarrassing it was when on a jump I managed to slip and fall into the frozen river. Looking back I think the crash was due to immense fatigue, an indefatigable belief that I am still in my twenties and the aforementioned lost pole.
It turns out that falling into a river on the South Island of New Zealand is cold. I tossed him across the valley, convincing myself that he would soon warm up. The lies we tell ourselves.
Clingy
I told you my day got better when I met Sticky. We met when I ran out of juice. My body was finished, my mind was finished, my soul…finished. Late in the afternoon I found the most idyllic clearing near the river and knew this was my final resting place. For today in any case.
A trekking pole tent can be fooled if you can find a branch that looks like a trekking pole. The store really isn’t that smart. And that’s how I met Sticky. Sticky was lying on the ground, right next to where I thought I had set up my tent. Sticky was completely on board with the trick I was about to use on my store once I explained what would happen.
As you can see, the store doesn’t notice. Sticky and I had a good laugh at how easy it was to fool the store. I took off all my wet clothes and put on my alpha hoodie and Tyvek painter pants. I had dinner and waited for the weather to stay calm at my little campsite overnight, as I didn’t want Sticky and I to get into a fight.
I wished Sticky goodnight and closed my eyes. Wrapped tightly in my quilt, sleep momentarily claimed me.
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