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

Rangitata and Rakaia

The section Logan and I skipped four years ago runs between two rivers, the Rakaia and the Rangitata, which can be bypassed by shuttle or, if the water level allows and you feel safe enough, crossed. We opted for the shuttle for the former, as we needed to buy provisions and Logan joined us to accompany us for the next two sections. After a day of resting, we then had ourselves taken to the other side of Rakaia to continue from there to Rangitata.

I still remember that four years ago we had skipped this section because it was logistically complicated and we were warned about an impossible level of sand flies. This time we ventured through Rangitata, the smaller of the two rivers; we had a total of three days to mentally prepare for it. As for the sand flies, they seem to have found a new home. We hardly got to see any.

Without expectations we could only be positively surprised by the beauty of the past days. We had to climb the first hut, which in turn surprised us with strong winds. The feet got wet the next day first thing in the morning over and over again. Incessantly, as Noor counted, we crossed all morning up a small river, 76 times in number. A process that took us 4 hours for just 7 km. To me, it felt more like 30 crossings; however, Logan, Connor, and I also often just stayed in the water and went right up the river.

Tussocks are grassy bushel that I don’t know from Europe. On steep slopes they are quite helpful to not slide down all the time. However, on flat terrain they really get in the way, especially when they reach a certain size. Every step has to be so well planned and considered. A few weeks ago, in the Tararuas, on the North Island, it was even worse, as it was also muddy between the individual tufts and thus incredibly slippery. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were one of the main reasons why people tweak their ankle here. I’ve fallen over a few times without anything happening to me. But I seem to be quite robust in this respect, hardening by hiking.

We decided to do the big river crossing as a group of four; since the weather has been dry the last few weeks, it doesn’t seem to be much of a problem crossing the river. We heard from other hikers how problem free they found it. That made us feel positive so far, and yet it wasn’t one hundred percent clear what to expect.

In the end, we had only had to walk in formation at one point in the river, the heaviest, me, at the top of the line and then descending by weight hooking each other downstream. Despite initial cold feet, for one or the other, we all came out of this experience stronger. Cohesion and trust in each other made a big difference here, as no one really knew what we were getting ourselves into.

Allowing myself (more) successes

Today I talked to Logan about goals for the year. I didn’t set any this year, but instead gave myself permission to allow myself to be proud of what I’ve accomplished.

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.

Especially with such big goals dominating my whole day, it becomes so normal that I don’t even realize how well I actually am doing. I find myself in a bubble because everyone around me is performing the same or at least similar. In this bubble, my performance quickly doesn’t seem so special to me.

Logan asked me what I was trying to accomplish by being proud of myself. I’m of the opinion that it’s not conducive to my satisfaction if nothing I accomplish feels like I’ve seriously accomplished anything. Whether it would make me happier if it did, I can’t really say. It doesn’t make me less motivated to try new things. On the contrary, I often make new plans for further challenges before I’m even finished. I tend more towards boredom and am already looking for the next kick.

For me it seems that everything is always easy, at least when I look back on it. Means, even if I have a strenuous day, which brings me to my limits, my memory bends so far that it was nothing at all. In the fabric of time, I manage to marginalize something completed as if it were nothing more. For what reason I do this exactly, I can’t even say.

Might it be because we are reminded day after day that there is someone better than you? When I was younger, the internet didn’t have this quality of presenting yourself at your best like we tend to do nowadays. Every profile is so polished that we completely forget that there are real people behind it, with vulnerabilities and problems that are rarely brought out into the open.

What this leads to, however, is that I find it difficult to accept praise. Neither from myself, nor from others; in fact, from others it often feels uncomfortable. From the perspective of others, of course, I have done something special that deserves attention, but not in my view.

Noor, Connor and Logan feel the same way. Especially when you practice something for a long time, it becomes normal and you lose the distance to judge how much work actually went into achieving your goal. Everyone around you is doing the same thing as you. Therefore, they are often not a good yardstick to judge or differentiate one’s own achievements. Much more, I should try to see what energy I put in, or what I did without, to get to where I am. Not everyone would simply take it upon themselves to save up enough financial reserves, to quit their job, to allow myself to no longer have an apartment, to walk 3000 km for months and to sleep exclusively in a tent for several days and to do without a shower. When I put it this way, it sounds completely different than saying I hike every day for a few hours.

But to internalize this is really another matter. One result of not admitting success to myself is that I also measure others’ successes based on it, or worse, portray things as simple, easily achievable for everyone. Sometimes it even feels alienating to me when others seem to celebrate successes that I can’t even see. This perception probably doesn’t have much of a motivating effect on others. This is something I definitely do not want to radiate. On the contrary, I would prefer to appear motivational. At least, that’s how I imagine I come across. Whether it really comes across that way to others, I don’t know.

Do you feel the same way? How do you celebrate your successes, big and small?

Memories

It seems kind of strange to me to actually recognize very little. Logan seems to be able to remember in much more detail the specific sections that we walked in the other direction four years ago. He has specific memories of what a hut looked like or what the trail was like. I rarely remember anything and when I do, it’s when I see again, but not when we’re just talking about it. I wonder if maybe Logan had just recently looked at pictures that jogged his memory. Apparently he hadn’t. What is certain is that our memories work in very different ways. For both of us, though, when we were more tired, less stuck. I usually associate memories with certain emotions and stimuli, like smells.

The way to Lake Tekapo

After crossing the Rangitata, we had to hike up another smaller river. Most of the time we stayed in the riverbed. The actual trail sometimes went along and sometimes through the river. When the trail got too high we just stayed in the river and saved a lot of altitude. The day was strenuous enough as it was and didn’t need any more of it.

We all just trudged along for the last few miles and also needed a snack and a break before fighting our way up to Crooked Spur-Hut. We all had to support each other morally and physically to reach our goal. It’s nice for that to have a little trail family to rely on when the going gets a little tougher. How relieving it is to just be able to lean on each other.

Just the last few weeks, I so enjoy having people around me with whom I have already formed a closer bond, on a deep level. Conversations are about fears and needs that have shaped one so in the past and make us the person we are now. What was hard for us in the past and we have mastered. We talk about our dreams, not just about the food we will eat on our next break day, but more importantly, what we envision for our future, where we want the journey to go, literally.

As described earlier, we all seem to have some difficulty with allowing ourselves to be self-praised. This gives me the idea of asking other fellow campaigners how they see the issue. Maybe it’s a quality that is needed to endure ongoing hardships, like a through-hike.

Logan, of course, is not as trained as the rest of us, but is doing all the better for it. We’ve found a certain balance where everyone can go a little at their own pace and needs, yet also make the most of our time together. In the mornings, we usually set off together and spent the first half of the day together. Then in the afternoon we hiked separately, each at their preferred pace.

Not very photogenic

I must have taken 600 photos in the past section. Of those, only a handful make it into this article. It’s really hard to capture landscapes as they present themselves to you. Especially on days when it’s cloudy, the shadows that provide contrast and make details in the landscape stand out are missing. Colors look uniformly gray; the sky just seems to blend into the mountains instead of providing a backdrop for it. But even in good lighting conditions, it’s hard to capture the immense expanse that presents itself to us day after day. Add to that the fact that I “learned” photography from watching a few videos on YouTube, nothing I could really brag about. I rely most on the algorithms of my cell phone camera.

Up high

One of the highlights of this week was the highest point on the trail, 1925 meters above sea level, on Stag Sattle. From the saddle we had a breathtaking view of the New Zealand Alps and, if not obscured by clouds, almost Mount Cook, the highest mountain in New Zealand.

Lake Tekapo, which is our destination and where Logan leaves us again to return to his daily routine, is so blue because it is fed by glaciers and full of minerals that one could almost believe it was the mirrored sky. It presents itself even more impressively when a little wind sweeps over it and stirs it up a little.

Since I started walking in Ship Cove in the north of the South Island a month ago, I have covered more than 700 km and 25000 meters of altitude, up as well as down. The altitude meters alone would already make for a a big days hike of 50 km. This is definitely something to be proud about. I’m doing my best to internalize it.

Official website of Te Araroa