Attached you will find the compilation of all the equipment that I will take with me on my 5 month hike in New Zealand. I have divided it into clothing, once the one that I will mainly wear on the body, and the one I still carry as a spare in the backpack with me.…
Nine hundred miles seems to be an exaggeration due to a measurement error. As I understand it, horses, or rather the endurance of them, were used in the past to measure distances. An average horse probably made it to 30 miles per day. The one used to measure this beach in the north of New Zealand did more like 30 km a day.
My injured right foot has not allowed me to continue hiking. Therefore a Zero day was called for me. All the others in my group wanted to take one anyway, so I promptly decided to hitchhike to Kaitaia as well and spend the day there eating, reading and shopping for food.
Mud and water from below as well as from above awaited us on this stage. Unexpected hardships lay ahead of us, which we now consider mastered
We had a beautiful summer day to get a few miles on the beach behind us. The weather was glorious and the feet did well. Somehow the slim 15 kilometers along the beach dragged on. The tide was at its maximum towards the end.
I can smell myself, the way one smells when one has spent a few days in the bush. A smell that, when I’m alone, I don’t seem to notice at all. Yet here I am, in the midst of washed and parfumed people, civilized people who all go about a daily routine that does not allow them to look like me.
It’s a little surreal to have already hiked a third, 1000 km, of the hike. We have mastered 90 Mile Beach with its seemingly endless miles of monotony. We waited knee-deep through mud to get over mountains and to other shores. We often had the water up to our knees, hips and even up to our necks, which came not only from above but also quite often from below. Looking back, we walked endless miles along roads and dirt tracks to get to the next breathtaking section.
The unsettled rainy weather keeps us from running the trail as it is intended. Rain keeps us from crossing rivers and paddling down, and strong winds from crossing higher passages in the mountains. Because of the circumstances, I tried to make the best of the situation and run sections that were not problematic, rather than just letting time pass by waiting.
Now I myself have already walked more than half of the total 3000 kilometers, and that in just 2 months. What seemed like an infinitely long distance a few months ago, is now quite normal, my everyday life. Maybe even too normal, so that I can’t even imagine having a normal everyday life anymore, having to get up at a certain time to go to work and do errands. Who would want to do that voluntarily every day?
Continue Reading The end of the North Island – Halfway there
How interesting it is to observe in which environment the mud we all love manifests itself. Where it makes the ascent to the Tararuas difficult, we find enchanted forests, with trees that seem to have died, clothed in a mantle of moss. In the shadow of the clouds towering over us, we get the impression that behind every corner a forest gnome could jump out, making us his prisoners and turning us into soup.
The Richmonds are known to be particularly tough. From the beginning we are driven into its dense forests of birch and fir like trees. Our path stretches on and on along the turquoise waters that indispensably carry themselves down the rock-strewn riverbed, towards us on the way up.
The greater part of my trip in New Zealand is already behind me and so slowly the thoughts are spreading, what should come after that. I know where my journey should go physically, but I don’t know yet what will happen then. We have now brought two thirds behind us, more than 2000 km. The days are starting to be counted. I can hardly imagine what it will be like when I no longer walk an average of 25 kilometers every day.
Somehow I seemed to be too spoiled. The many beautiful stages seem to have dulled me. I’m still hiking through some of the most beautiful scenery I can imagine, and yet my baseline seems to have been raised to the point where I haven’t really been able to enjoy the last few days, and so I’ve been more or less dragging my feet. I’m apparently not the only one feeling this way. I have meanwhile talked to some other hikers who have fallen into the same hole.
Continue Reading Arthur’s Pass – Little motivation in the tank
Another way has to be found. I dare myself more and more each time; further away and higher up. Catlike I stick to vertical rocks. I pull myself up with the last of my strength, only to be immediately on the lookout for my next victim. The goal is not to get wet feet, to stay on top and to arrive at the top of the saddle without using the trail.
I’ve spent my whole life dismissing successes that others would celebrate in a big way as not that remarkable to me. This has been the case with all of my school graduations, where I’ve always done well without really having to do much to get there, at work I’ve always gotten good evaluations or even been praised without putting in any effort, and here on the trail I’m averaging over 20k a day, which already doesn’t feel like a particularly outstanding accomplishment. When I tell my friends and family what I’m doing here, they usually can’t believe it.
From our perspective it is so much more, it is the effort of climbing the mountains that is rewarded with the views, it is the fun we feel trying to cross the rippling streams and rivers without getting our feet wet, the feeling on our feet of walking over a soft forest floor instead of hard rock.
Wir hatten uns drei Tage Pause bei Logan’s Eltern, Sue und Andrew, in Wanaka gegönnt. Die beiden wohnen in einem wie mit Händen aus Lehm geformten Haus mitten in einem Weinberg. Die Bäume, die das Anwesen umringen, geben ihm den Anschein, auf dem Land, entfernt vom touristischen Trubel der jährlich wachsenden Stadt Wanaka, zu sein.
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.
The last stage of my New Zealand trip has begun. There are only 220 km left to Bluff. I have planned to arrive by the end of February. It’s a bit of a challenge, but it should still be doable.
It’s been a few days now since I finished the trail along with a few others. Arriving was a real relief. It was downhill and I was just able to “run” the last few meters to Sterlig Point, the final point of Te Araroa. My legs did not allow another step. I had already set my mind in Te Kuiti, on the North Island, to implement my plan to run a marathon as the last leg of the trail. Suddenly it was not just an idea, but within reach.
More than 3000 kilometers have shown which equipment is really essential. I still wouldn’t call myself a complete purist, but every step has shown me that every kilo counts and what I really “need”. Except for my emergency kit, I used every item I had with me on a daily basis.
Continue Reading The end of Te Araroa – Equipment I really needed
I have to admit that I didn’t really pay attention to money since I didn’t have a strict budget. Certainly you can make the TA much cheaper than I did by eating less in restaurants, sleeping less in beds and hanging out less in cafes. In general, New Zealand is very expensive. I was surprised how quickly I had high costs.
Two years ago I decided not to earn more money, but to spend my saved money to discover the world. A year ago, I put this idea into action. Since then, I’ve had countless adventures, visited seven countries on two continents, and walked over 4,000 kilometers.
No Comments