Main page of the Through-Hike with overview of the hiked route

Queenstown is the perfect place to pursue any outdoor activity you can think of, winter or summer. On my list of things to check off on my trip was jumping out of a plane. Connor was right on board and Noor only needed moderate persuasion on our part to dare to do it too. She asked several friends and family members for their opinions and received only positive encouragement. Of the three of us, she was certainly the one who was the most excited, and also the one who screamed the loudest.

Heartbeat

It didn’t cost me any overcoming to jump in tandem from 4000 m height, not even my heartbeat was noticeably increased. I actually wonder what it takes to get me excited. How do you guys feel about it? Are you like me in that hardly anything can get you excited? For me, the only time my heart really starts racing is when I’m thinking too hard about a difficult situation. Spontaneity and quick action is the key to not getting all dithered in the first place. I wonder if I’ve somehow trained myself not to get shakey or if it’s just part of my nature. I can still remember what it was like to sit excitedly in front of a class assignment, the excitement that came up then, or the first time I slid my hand under a girl’s t-shirt and kissed her. Of course, I wouldn’t expect it to happen again every time, but I haven’t really felt that sizzle in my stomach for a long time, except for those rare moments when I have to wait to see if a tactic I’ve cooked up in a game is going to work. It’s the unknown that still gives me a little thrill, anything that’s easy to calculate doesn’t anymore.

Great Walks

In New Zealand, apart from the “normal” hiking trails, there are still the so-called Great Walks. These are extra wide trails that not so fit hikers can manage. In general, they lead through particularly worth seeing areas, with the possibility to sleep in a hut, with special care and a bed. Away from it all, there are flush toilets, gas for cooking and plenty of space to spread out and rest. I’ve heard from other hikers that you can even book single rooms there. What you have to keep in mind, these huts have no access by land vehicles. I suspect the delivery of resources is done entirely by helicopters. Of course, an extra premium is charged for this as well. A normal bed, in a dorm, apparently costs about €60 per night by itself. These are very similar to the beds we find in the usual huts. I don’t even want to know what one of these luxury rooms costs….

After jumping off the plane we went for a round of sushi in Queenstown and then headed to the next trail. On the menu for us was the Great Walk called Routeburn, but we had to get there first. Even if we had continued directly towards Mavora Lakes according to the tour description, we would have had to hitchhike around a river. Our detour shortened the distance by a few kilometers, but it still took us almost an hour and a half to get there.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait long for Noor to find a German who took us to the beginning of Routeburn. Actually she didn’t want to drive that far, but apparently had nothing better to do than to do a favor for some strangers. Thanks a lot!

Connor and I had talked past each other a bit when discussing how big a detour the Route Burn was. I was assuming 32 kilometers. However, that was only the route burn part and did not include the part to get back to the TA. So the day I anticipated turned into two. That’s not too bad, but I’d really like to get to the end of the trail now. Actually, I wanted to go to the fjords in the Milford Sounds, where there is another Great Walk. But I have no more motivation to do that. I am now quite happy to arrive at the end. No matter how beautiful the surroundings are, I can’t really appreciate them anymore.

With a close look at the calendar I noticed that I don’t have as much time left as I thought. For the last 250 km I have only 8 days left until the end of the month. Not a lot of time, over 30 kilometers a day that wouldn’t allow for any more rest days and no overly strenuous stages. I’d like to make it to that point and then be back in Wellington in time to spend some more time with Logan and then fly to Sydney soon. Connor and Noor don’t want to push themselves too hard, so it will probably be goodbye soon.

In the meantime, we’ve passed Mavora Lakes, the place where Logan, Sarah and I started our trek north four years ago. This year it’s much drier and so we didn’t have to trudge through the bog like we did then.

We only stopped for lunch this time in the huts we had slept in back then. Nice memories of a past experience. Back then, I almost went without a sleeping bag because I had left it in the car at Logan’s parents’ house. No idea how I should have survived the cold nights. In the tent unthinkable, in a hut with all my clothes on surely possible. My luck was that Logan’s parents had noticed and had given someone the sleeping bag that went in our direction. Until the man caught up with us, I wasn’t even aware of my mishap. On this year’s trip I only left something behind twice, the lid from my stove, which was no big deal, and my bag with all sorts of important and unimportant stuff, because of which I had to make another day trip back.

Back on the actual trail at Greenstone Hut, we had to make our way through what was actually a pleasant forest trail for a few more hours. This was littered with fallen trees that we had to climb over or go around again and again. It was a strenuous undertaking that we all would have liked to do without. The two scheduled hours turned into three. During the dinner preparation two special guests came in, Bruce and Zeth, whom we already know since the North Island, and who invited us to their home in Hamilton to spend the night and to a barbecue party. The two of them always come up to you in a good mood, full of energy, as if they hadn’t just put almost 3000 kilometers behind them.

Because of my time constraints, we decided to arrive at our next resupply point, Te Anau, within two days, twice 35 kilometers. When you set big goals, it doesn’t seem nearly as long as when you have to go on unplanned or overcome unplanned obstacles. After Mavora Lakes, we went along the Mararoa River through a forest similar to the previous day’s route, only without all the fallen trees. Noor hadn’t had enough after 38 km and promptly made her way nimble-footed another 6 km to the next hut.

Connor and I pitched our tents on a small clearing next to a stream and philosophized a bit about life and the end of the trail ahead of us, how much we have achieved and how proud we can be of ourselves. At least rationally we both get it quite well to praise ourselves, to digest it emotionally is another thing we both can still practice a bit.

Official website of Te Araroa