Nelson Lakes National Park

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December 4, 2007

When we returned to our tent site at the motor park after grocery shopping this morning a pleasant surprise was waiting for us in front of our tent: two bottles of beer; donated to us by some anonymous friend. I have my suspicions that it came from the people tenting across from us, as the guy saw me drinking from a hose last night and might have thought we were poor. We’re not poor; I just don’t have any hang-ups about drinking from a hose.
Hitchhiking today was not easy nor was it fun. The first ride took forty-five minutes to get and only took us twenty kilometers. The second took over two hours to get, but ended up being somewhat interesting. A big Maori semi-truck driver named Ruma picked us up and regaled us with stories only a truck driver would tell. Once he dropped us off we waited for maybe twenty minutes on a lonely highway until another guy drove us the rest of the way to St. Arnaud. There we checked in at the DOC office before walking two hours down a lakeside trail to get to the Lakehead Hut. Crowded with a bunch of high-paying yuppies on a guided tour where there food is brought in for them and they scarcely have to walk themselves down the trail, we were barely able to snag the last two bunks in the hut.

December 5, 2007

I insisted on sleeping in late today, as I wanted to avoid the masses of people milling around the hut cooking breakfast and getting ready. Fortunately, by 8:00 a.m. most of them were gone and I could cook my breakfast in relative peace.
We were on the trail by 9:00 a.m. and had a great walk as we followed the Travers River upstream towards the John Tait Hut, which would be our stopping point for lunch. The valley we were making our way through is quite spectacular. The mountains on either side aren’t that much higher than previous ranges, but they rise very sharply from the flat valley floor between them and it gives you a very closed-in feeling standing at the bottom.
Shortly after lunch we came to a side trail that was labeled as Travers Falls. Not sure whether a side trip was worth the time and effort we were hesitant about going. It turned out to be a short walk, and definitely worth the time. At the end of the trail was a sixty foot waterfall that came crashing out of a rock crevasse at the top of a cliff and plunged into a clear blue pool below. The deep ravine walls with moss around the whole site almost make you feel that you are deep in the Amazon jungle.
Back on the trail we ascended another 400 meters over the next hour and a half and eventually came to the end of the valley where the beech forest gave way to steep, snow-covered rock faces. In the bowl at the end sits the Upper Travers hut, a hut which fortunately will only house us and two couples from Australia named John & Lois and Michael and Miriam. It’s nice to have some quiet hut mates. But the real treats are the amazing views from the hut: steep mountain faces on three sides and a view down the valley up which we’ve come. Tomorrow we’ll be climbing the saddle next to Mount Travers to continue down the next valley.


***Supplemental journal entry***

Tonight for dinner we cooked something that came to me in a dream and it turned out to be the best meal to date! We bought pizza bases, sauce, a stick of pepperoni, and cheese, and put it all together to make gourmet pizza. It was simply delectable and fun to make. We cooked them on top of the wood-burning stove inside our frying pan with the lid on the top to trap heat in. We both couldn’t stop raving to each other about how good they were.

December 6, 2007

Within steps from leaving the hut we began our 400-meter ascent up Travers Saddle. It was steep until the very top, cutting back and forth on switchbacks through rock fields and knee-high grass. But in the end there was no more up to do and I stood in awe at the sights all around me.
Perched on the saddle between the two peaks we stood at nearly 1,800 meters above sea level and could see several mountain ranges in each direction. The clouds tried to obscure the views, but their attempts were foiled as the sun was burning them off faster then they could organize.
After a thirty minute break at the top where we met up with our fellow hut companions, we began the 1,000 meter descent to the Sabine River below on the opposite side of the saddle. It was steep and slipper
walking as the slope seemed to be about thirty degrees the entire way, and about half the trail was down an avalanche chute composed of scree and other larger loose rocks. It was the kind of terrain that makes you feel as though your leg and back muscles are at full tenseness for the entire hour and a half down.
But down we went and arrived at the West Sabine Hut just before
2:00 p.m. Tomorrow will be a short walk up the trail to Blue Lake, which is reputed to be one of the most scenic spots in this part of the country.

December 7,2007

It took two and a half hours to follow the Sabine River four kilometer and 500 vertical meters upstream to the Blue Lake Hut situated next to, you guessed it, Blue Lake. Parts of the trail had been destroyed by avalanches a few months prior, and there was even snow still on one of the chutes we crossed, so we had to be careful some of the time.
Blue Lake is a small lake in a high mountain bowl, but is magnificent because of its crystal clear water that is all shades of blue and green. The real treat, though, was in the evening when Eric and I took a half hour hike even further up to the next bowl, to the much larger Lake Constance. There I took some pictures as the sun sank and cast beautiful shadows on the mountains and the lake. This is one of the most stunning places in New Zealand, in my opinion.
On a different note, the hut last night had a rare luxury-- a mirror. Looking into it I barely recognized the face staring back at me: a mass of curly dark hair on top, a dark beard, and weathered-looking cheeks courtesy of the sun and wind. It’s strange how being out here for so long changes things about you, even your appearance.
Continuing with the theme of reflection I thought I would take the rest of this entry to reflect a bit on the journey so far. The quiet beauty and solitude of Blue Lake is very conducive to this process, so I figured this would be a good place to do so.
I’ve been out here for forty-five days now. I’ve walked 175 hours, which equates to about 700 kilometers or 435 miles. I’ve climbed many mountains, crossed many rivers, traversed countless forests, crossed a desert, and scaled the sides of quite a few cliffs. I’ve been through sunny days, but also through days of rain, whipping wind, and even days of snow. I’ve felt exhilaration, joy, amazement, and relief. But I’ve also felt frustration, annoyance, fear, and despair. There have been nights too cold to sleep, nights too hot to sleep, and nights where I slept like a log. There have been days when walking was easy and the pack felt light, as well as days where every muscle felt pain and the pack seemed to pull me to the ground. There have been blisters and scrapes, bruises and pulled muscles, sunburn and bug bites. But then there have also been breathtaking views, unforgettable sights, and days filled with a great sense of accomplishment.
Add all these things up along with the numerous other factors I didn’t list and you come up with what this journey is truly like. It’s been a time of feeling a wide range of emotions. It’s been a time of testing physical limits. A time of planning, re-planning, and then throwing out plans altogether. A time of adventure and taking on challenges as they present themselves. And most of all it’s been a time of feeling completely ALIVE.
Life like this has been amazing. It can’t last exactly like this forever, nor would I want it to. It has a certain specialness that is best realized by savoring every moment, whether it feels good or bad at the time. I have thoroughly enjoyed my time thus far and I know that I will enjoy the rest of the time just as much. This will certainly remain in my mind as one of the best times of my life.


December 8, 2007

This morning we had to say good-bye to John, Lois, Michael, and Miriam, with whom we’ve been sharing huts with for the previous three nights. It’s strange how traveling companions can seem like great friends within a very short time.
After our delayed and leisurely departure we headed out back down the trail we took yesterday to get to Blue Lake. Within three hours (because we stopped to talk with a guy we’d met earlier and also stopped to see a waterfall John told us about-- Thanks John for marking the way to it with those sticks!) we came to the junction, which put us back onto the loop trail. From there it was four hours following the Sabine River downstream to the head of Lake Rotoroa where we arrived at the Sabine Hut, which we had to ourselves. Sitting on the edge of the lake with the mountains all around it, the hut is very picturesque. Before dinner I decided to go for a swim/bath in the lake and was pleasantly surprised that it was actually warm. I think that since we have a short day of hiking tomorrow I may elect to go for another swim before we head out. The only bad thing about this location is the sandflies.

December 9, 2007

I slept in until nearly 9:00 a.m. today, which is the latest I can remember sleeping in a very long time. We had a shorter day ahead of us, so I felt we could easily get a late start.
The track was uphill at first, climbing away from the peaceful lake towards another mountain saddle. Once we crested the top it was about two hours of sidling around the mountain, making our way over tree roots as we went. From there the path began to climb again, and snaked in and out of valleys each with a river flowing through it. Soon the trail began to descend and before long we came to a clearing on the hillside and found the Speargrass Hut. It’s a smaller hut and not as frequently used, but I’m enjoying it very much at the moment, since it began raining shortly after we arrived. It’s extremely nice to see the rain soaking the trees and grass while being warm and dry behind the window. It’s even more enjoyable to be able to cook dinner away from the elements. I love camping and I love feeling the different weather, but having these huts out in the backcountry is definitely a blessing when you’re out here for an extended period of time. If I ever begin to take them for granted all it takes is a good rain to remind me to be thankful.

December 10, 2007

I should have known that we were long overdue for a rainy day of hiking. We’ve had extremely good weather this whole trip by New Zealand standards, so really it was only fair that today should be crummy. Faced with a total lack of food we couldn’t choose to stay an extra night on the trail, either, so we were forced out into the rain.
It actually wasn’t bad walking in it. Once you get adjusted to being wet it helps to keep you cool. And it was only about two hours to the carpark, where we caught a lift back to St. Arnaud.
Once we were back in the very small town of St. Arnaud we checked into a hostel. Then the outrageousness began. Towels to shower with were two dollars each, the hot showers were two dollars for six minutes, the laundry was seven dollars, the internet would have been twelve dollars/hour had it not been broken, and a box of cereal from the general store across the street was nine dollars! As soon as morning comes we’re hitting the road to hitchhike out of this money-pit of a town.
On another note, what began this morning as me using a small pair of scissors from the first aid kit to trim my beard around the mouth turned into an hour and a half venture ending in the entire beard being cut down to a five-o’clock shadow look. I barely recognized myself afterwards, but it was definitely a good call. It caught on and Eric cut his beard off today as well. Maybe we’ll get rides easier now that we don’t look so grungy!

December 11, 2007

We took an enormous detour today, but overall it was a positive thing. We began the day needing to hitchhike about 160 kilometers around a mountain range to get to our next track, but ended up riding over 300 kilometers and still being 150 kilometers from the track we wanted to get to. Here’s how it happened:
Our first ride out of St. Arnaud took only half an hour to get, and we were just glad to get out of that town. The next ride took about twenty minutes to get and was the longest ride thus far. A Czech couple picked us up and took us to the small town we planned to get groceries from. Food prices were going to be high though, so Lucy and Radim (the couple) suggested we go with them to Westport near the coast to buy groceries and then ride back to where we were headed with them the next day. So, we began our ride in the opposite direction we intended and ended up doing our shopping in Westport.
From there we rode with them south along the coast and stopped at a place called Punakaiki, famous for the “pancake rocks,” which are incredible rock formations. Then Lucy and Radim changed their plans and we decided to head off on our own.
Shortly thereafter two guys in their late thirties picked us up in a van. They were surfers who liked to listen to eighties rock music on their tape deck in the van (which I’m sure was as old as me.) Really strange guys, but friendly.
Then from the town of Greymouth where they left us we caught a ride with a woman who kept telling me about her mental breakdowns. I guess the semester of counseling courses I took last year comes through in my listening skills or something because this lady just poured it out during the car ride. It was a little strange, but I guess if I do become a counselor I should get used to hearing these things.
Then after not getting a ride for an hour we resigned ourselves to setting up our tent at a motor park, still 150 kilometers from the track we want to get to. Hopefully tomorrow we can get rides actually going that way.

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