Author: Dragon

“MUDDY AS FROM HERE ON NOBOS. SUMMON YOUR INNER MUD NINJA.”

-Wise words from the trail log at Martin’s Hut.

Woke up to a gorgeous sunny day at Martin’s Hut. The sign outside said 6hrs to the quarry road that leads to Bald Hill, our high point for the day, so my new TA hiker friend Loic and I set out around 8.

The first few hours are through extremely muddy, steep terrain, with some pits going as much as knee deep should you dare to fall into them.

From the first hills vantage point, we have an excellent view of Bluff, the starting point of this journey where I hitched to and walked from 6 days since.

Then, another round of very muddy and mossy forest, the trees all twisted and corrupted into odd shapes by the rotting power of the moss. I cant overestimate how much moss there was here. It was ubiquitous. Every tree limb, every rock, every piece if Earth was coated with a thick spongy mat of the stuff.

Eventually the trail leads over another hill, and finally down to the quarry road. It only took us 4 hours, nice! Now, an easygoing climb up the road to Bald Hill, about a 300m ascent over an hour or so. The sky above had turned from blue to a dangerous shade of overcast, and the wind had picked up, which meant we were in for a storm at some point. If we’re lucky, it’ll wait until after we’ve gone over this wide open hill here.

The view from the top was magnificent, from the snow capped mountains to our north, the Fiordland mountains to the west, and Bluff and the ocean to our south. Not wanting to overstay our welcome, we quickly snapped some photos and descended back into the forest for one last muddy excursion to Merrivale road. This was certainly the easiest hiking of the day, and we hit the road’s beginning in the forest around 4pm.

Seeing the beginnings of the rain storm, we decide to camp right there in the clearing. The wind was impressive for the rest of the evening and well into the night, waking me up a few times with the fear that one of the poles holding this tent together would snap from the force of the wind. And we had the shelter of trees here–I wouldn’t want to know how strong the wind was up on Bald Hill now!

Goodnight!

Today was a much needed day of doing not much at all. I awoke in bed at Martin’s hut, listening to the first of about a hundred rain showers crash down onto the roof. Ah, how wonderful it is to listen to the rain, and not to be in it. To have shelter.

I woke up early with the sun peering through the glass window around 7am. Today seemed like a great day to build a fire, given that there was already a load of wood inside the hut. I got it going around 9 and by noon, I was fresh out of wood! I scavenged some pieces around the forest, although they were all wet and mostly rotten. Oh well, they burned well enough with how hot the fire had gotten. I had them smoking above the fire to dry them out before adding them to the pyre.

Around 4pm, I heard the sound of foot steps approaching the hut. Someone opened the door; a fellow TA hiker, named Loic, from Switzerland! Sweet!

We spent the next few hours comparing stories of the trials and tribulations that were the last stretch of trail through the mud and the freezing rain. It was nice to have someone to share the misery with. We both started with the intention of doing the whole south island TA, and now we were both having different thoughts about it.

In fact, this was the day that I decided that there’s no need to do a “continuous footpath” of the Te Araroa, or to call this a thru-hike. If I miss some sections of pure mud, sheepy farmland, or road walks, I’m all about it. Who would want to walk in those conditions anyways? Especially in the constant deluge of cold that we find ourselves in here, at the beginning of the Spring Season. I came all this way for the mountains, so that is where I will head after finishing this section of trail. I will skip about 100km of farmland trail (which is supposed to be closed for lambing right now anyways–another great reason not to do it) and pick up the trail east of Te Anau, the town dubbed the “gateway to the Fiordlands.”

It was the day I decided that my experiences here would be a collection of separate adventures, with the Te Araroa as the general backbone of the route I would take as I walk, but by no means will I feel inclined to hike every step of the official trail. Heck, even the TA trust make it pretty clear that the trail is a work in progress, and some parts of it just plain “don’t work” for me.

Many TA hikers have the same opinion, skipping the long, boring road walks in favor of spending more time in the truly remarkable areas of this gorgeous country.

So we’ll see what happens the next few days. I’m leaving it all up in the air from now on. Maybe I hitch out and do some alternate routes. Maybe I stick to the official route. I’m down for whichever is more interesting and feasible in the moment.

My new TA friend and I kept the fire going until dark, enjoying our camaraderie as the first fellow NOBO hikers either of us have met. We kept the fire going until darkness fell, with the sound of rain again striking the roof above me.

Goodnight!

Today was rough as!

I woke up late, again wanting to give my ankle tendons as much time to heal as possible. I got going around 11.

I decided to take a short cut which meant cutting across some random farmland. Hopefully I don’t get in trouble (or shot at by some hyperterritorial farmer), hah!

That involved hopping over a couple fences, but I was lucky that 3/4 of them had unlocked gates. Finally, I made it up to the top of the hill and through the last gate. This shortcut (which my friend back in Invercargill mentioned) cut off about 5km of road walking and muddy trail. I thought I might get to my destination (Martin’s Hut) early, but oh how wrong I was!

Up to now, I had enjoyed the sunshine and a beautiful day. But about an hour into the trail (which now followed an old water canal “raceway”, dug by hand to aid in the gold mining efforts back in the day) the weather turned for the worse. A cold front brought on a ceaseless rain, which made the already muddy raceway trail even more difficult to traverse. And there were about a hundred different creeks, streams, and mud pits to cross on the way to the hut. Sometimes the trail would run right into a cliff or a downed tree, and you’d just have to figure out a way around it. It was nice that the trail stayed mostly level the whole time.

However, clearly no one had cleared the trail this season, as the brush was seriously overgrowing the path, especially the ferns! This fact, paired with the rain, meant that I was in for a thorough soaking, and a muddy slog, which would take me about 6 hours to get through. I thought it would take half that time, but nope!

I barely made it to the hut by dark, and I’ve never been so happy to have a roof over my head, curled up in a nice warm sleeping bag. I didn’t even get up to cook dinner, and made due with some cookies and granola bars until morning. Also, my head hurt from dehydration, because I couldn’t stop all day to drink water because of the constant freezing rain. My hands basically stopped working around 4pm due to the cold wetness.

But I’m writing this now sitting in front of a lovely fire I made at the hut. Thankful somebody collected all this starter kindling to make it easy to get a nice warm firehearth going.

Okay, I’m gonna spend a couple days here to let my ankles heal and wait out the worst of the rain. Goodnight!

I woke up late, being that my tendons around my ankles were super sore from the 60km of road and beach walking to get to this point. All that hiking in the mountains of France couldn’t have prepared me for that much road walking.. human physiques just weren’t meant to walk on such hard surfaces!

And besides, low tide wasn’t until noon, so I got going around 11, and the Waimatuku River was actually crossable now! Woo! It was barely ankle deep, a much better situation than yesterday when I nearly fell in up to my shoulders, too close to high tide.

I had another 13km along the beach to get to the town of Riverton, and mother nature saw fit to blast me with every manner of uncomfortable forms of water possible, including sea spray, constant freezing half-rain, and hail. HAIL! On the beach!

Thoroughly wind swept and worn out, I thought maybe I would stay in Riverton for a night or two, but decided against it. Ended up grabbing a huge burger and hit the supermarket on the way out to top up with about 5 days of food.

The trail leads up and over a hill, and then unto one of the most scenic ocean walks I’ve ever seen! It reminded me much of the section of the Big Sur where Carl Sagan filmed the first part of Episode 1 of the TV series, “Cosmos.”

I follow the ocean line along fences and ridges designed to keep sheep in their place, eventually coming to a short road, and then a 2km walk down a pebble beach (not the most fun surface to walk on nearly 20km into the day with sore shins).

Finally, the trail joins a beach road that leads to a small little neighborhood. I thought about staying in the campground here, but saw on my map that there was a nice wooded area just 2km down the road, so figured I’d save my money and head there.

It turned out to be the George Lake Wildlife Refuge, which was more of a swamp (think Florida Everglades) than a forest. There was a lot of very high grass and bush, but I found an okay spot to pitch the tent where I knew no one would bother me. Heck, it seemed like no one ever really comes to this place anyways, on account of how swampy it was.

The sunset was spectacular and my legs were thankful for the rest. The forecast calls for rain tomorrow, and oh how right it was..

Just enough space for a tent

Alright, goodnight!

I woke up at the hostel, starting the day with the last of the sausage and eggs I had left for my sortie date. Yepp, today I finally hit the trail for good! It will be interesting after nearly a month of hostels and house sits to see how well my body handles the trail again.

I said goodbye to my friend Magda, who runs the hostel in Invercargill. She just finished the trail last season and stuck around to work because she loved it so much! She had great stories about hiking the trail, and I was amazed to find that it was her first time on any long distance hike or nature excursion of any kind!

Around 10, I head out and have a 12km walk down a road that leads to the scenic Oreti Beach. It’s pretty chilly, in the high 40s, and it’s supposed to rain on and off today.

I made good progress, and around 3pm came to the major obstacle of the day, the Waimatuku Stream. It was about 3 hours past low tide, so when I tried to cross the river the water practically came up to my head! Luckily I backed out before i fell all the way in and only got the lower half of my backpack wet (well, that and most of my clothing). Argh, this was supposed to be an easy crossing! I tried multiple other crossings, but just could not find a place that didn’t have chest deep water.

Well, I’ll take that as a sign. I’ll just have to pitch camp here and wait for low tide tomorrow, around 11am. I snag a nice campsite in the dunes, and enjoy the rest of the day, giving my heavily strained ankles and legs a break after just 20km. They’ve really taken a beating from all the road walking this first 60km, so they no doubt need as much time for recovery as I can give them.

Oh, and I lost my headphones! Noooooo! The must have floated out of my pocket on the first crossing attempt… damn.

I’ve read other people’s crossing stories saying “it’s only ankle deep,” so I don’t know how I got so unlucky to have such a poor first attempt at fiording. But, looking at the tide tables, the sea does rise 7 feet during high tide, which would certainly explain why it was the way it was.

I fall asleep to the wind and the rain lashing my tent. That was one benefit of having to stop early, as a series of persistent rain storms moved in after I pitched the tent.

Tomorrow, I will continue on down the beach to the town of Riverton, grab some supplies, and then hit the next 150km section of trail through multiple gorgeous kiwi forest reserves. You won’t wanna miss it!

I slept in a bit at the hostel today, not wanting to interrupt the awesome dreams happening inside my head. Around 10, I fix a breakfast of poached eggs and sausage, before starting the long traverse that would bring me back to this hostel later tonight.

I walk about 5km out of town before finding a good place to hitch hike. Within minutes of starting, the second car that passed me offered me a ride. Woohoo! Not a bad start. I open the car door, and am engulfed in some hip hop beats by the one and only Snoop Dog. The kind fella who picked me up was a local of the Maori culture. We had some interesting conversation along the 30km hitch to Bluff, where he dropped me off at the Southern terminus of the Te Araroa trail: Sterling Point.

I said cheers and bid him farewell, and began what would be one of the longest road walks of my hiking career.

The trail starts off on a nice trail along the oceanside, before turning and heading up and over the Bluff hill. Nice views all around from up there.

Then, down the hill and into the town, and finally, onto the highway where I would spend most of the day walking.

It didn’t help that there was a constant half-rain throughout the day, which made it hard to know when to put on the rain gear and when to take it off. Also, there was neither the time nor a place to take many breaks, so my legs and feet were pretty mad at me afterwards.

About halfway down the road, a woman stopped and asked me if I needed a ride. “I have to walk it, it’s part of the trail,” I said. She offered for me to stay at her place tonight, but I was already booked at the hostel, so I had to decline.

Then it got weird: “Have you noticed that the sky is closer here?”

Confused, I simply answered “Huh, I hadn’t noticed?”

Then she breaks into this astoundingly unreal chain of anti-logic.

“Yeah, it’s closer here because the Earth is flat, the sky is a dome, and we’re near the edge of it.”

Near the edge of the Earth? Interesting. I didn’t know I had fallen back into the year 1609.

I was thinking, man, my flight to San Francisco later is going to be quite the affair if she’s right! Hah! I really can’t understand how someone could be this out of touch with reality. I felt like, wow, how can anyone truly believe this? How was she so severely failed by the systems meant to educate people? I wonder how she would have countered the fact that I have flown around the world. I should have asked.

She goes on to say that it’s impossible that anyone landed on the moon because it’s “a lamp in the sky, the same diameter as the sun.”

I wish I was making this story up, but I was as shocked as you probably are. Darn, if she wasn’t so nice and halfway stopped on the side of a highway, I would’ve loved to change her mind about it, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have been the first to try, and it would’ve probably been a waste of energy. In any case, I hope she never pursues a career as a teacher.

She drove off down the road after thoroughly dumb-founding me, and I was left with the feeling that she had been severely let down by someone, anyone who must have been responsible for her education. But here she was, a woman in her 40s thinking the moon is a lamp and the sky is a dome over a flat Earth. I suppose she thought the engine powering her car was run by Elves, as well.

If you know me, you know how much I respect science, facts, and the undeniable and painfully gathered truths of our world. The scientific method is what led us out of the dark ages, and without it, we shall surely plunge right back into the depths of ignorance once more.

I hope one day she or someone like her gets to ride a rocket into orbital space and have everything they believe shattered by the reality of how things are. I’d pay to watch that.

In the meantime, I keep hiking down the road, eventually turning onto a bike trail that leads me the last 10km back into the city of Invercargill, with a lovely sunset ever-present to my left over the Pacific ocean.

I order a pizza which was picked up on the way to my hostel, to recharge with a zero day after 45km of walking on really rough roads and asphalt. My feet hate me! Okay, rest time. Goodnight!

Hello worlds,

Upon finishing the high route of the Pyrénées and grand traverse of the Alps trails, I spent a week recovering in London before spending 24 hours on two planes to bring me first to Malaysia, and finally to Auckland, New Zealand.

I am here for a few days soaking up the culture and working through the jet lag (my body thinks I went to sleep at 8am after not really sleeping for 46 hrs, though it was 8pm in Auckland).

So far, everything is awesome: everything is inexpensive compared to London, and U.S. money is worth 1.5x more here. People are nice and interesting. The town is bustling with people from all over the world, drawn here by claims of the unnatural beauty of this country.

On Saturday, I will catch a night bus to Wellington, the first of a few that will take me to the Southern tip of the South Island, where some of the grandest, most acclaimed mountains of our world live.

Then, I will begin hiking north, following generally the 1,400km Te Araroa trail, but also including as many scenic alternate routes, Great Walks, and LOTR filming locations as possible. I welcome the opportunity to wild camp and stretch my limited budget as far as I possibly can. I have $2,500 of savings left, which must last me 4 months, although given my history will probably only last 2.5 months, at which point I will seek work or have to arrange the sale of something of value back home.

Either way, that’s a problem for later.

For now, I am enjoying the culture, stocking up on needed supplies, tending to my gear, and working out travel logistics.

I hope to provide another fascinating account of time spent in truly wild lands, as one of my contributions to the collective global culture that we now share.

As always, my goal is to create stories and record pictures and information that inspire and compel others to their own marvelous travels and adventures, and to provide interesting, compelling content for those who cannot venture out into rugged mountains for weeks on end.

I write now from a house-sit in Oamaru, taking care of a nice dog named Old Tom.

See you on the trail!