By Tyler Socash
IG: @tylerhikes
ACT II
[Our protagonists collectively stand with mouths agape afront the lush greenery of the Queen Charlotte Track. The surf settles within the reaching arms of the Marlborough Sounds, as the hum of a departing water taxi's motor distantly dampens. Nearby, an interpetive sign reads, "This morn I was awakd by the singing of birds ashore. Their voices were the most melodious wild musick I have ever heard, almost imitating small bells..." Calloused and tan, eager members of Cute Boys Club, Couples Retreat, and Comfort Theory drop their clothes. The South Island christening is about to begin...]
QUEEN CHARLOTTE TRACK
Smelling the sea salt, I retreat from the cold shallows of Ship Cove. Bekah, Reyne, and I had simultaneously touched the water to commemorate a new beginning. A new island! Would we all touch the great white shark-infested waters of Foveaux Straight beside Bluff? I wondered silently.
Suddenly Sebastien, Dan, and I were stripped down to our shorts. With a little bit of courage we jumped off the wharf and into same cove where Captain Cook anchored his ship, The Endeavour, long ago. Fear of the unknown residents within the depths drives me ashore faster than the frigid temperatures. Will Bluff's water be colder? I wondered knowingly.
The interpretive sign informs us that our senses should be bombarded by an environment similar to the one encountered by Sir Joseph Banks in 1770. As the naturalist among Cook's crew, he was taken aback by the teeming bird life. Ambient wasp buzzing and pesky weka caws seemed to dominate in 2016.
Even though the Queen Charlotte Track was well-graded throughout our 3 day walk, Reyne, Seb, Bekah, Dan, Kate, and I saw change on the horizon. Quite literally! Above Picton's city lights the Kaikoura Range stood mightily in the sunset's alpenglow. Jagged peaks perforated the clouds. The South Island would be an entirely different beast.
Our celebratory first night was a catastrophe. We separated from Couples Retreat, camped in the rain, slept on an uneven sloping hill of gorse (the bush was too thick to camp elsewhere), and had to breathe the smell of rotting possum throughout the night. The night was even worse for Bekah, she spilled her macaroni and cheese dinner on the ground. She managed to scoop up most of it, which fell inside of Kate's tent vestibule.
Unlike the Abel Tasman Great Walk, Queen Charlotte avoids the coast. It undulates along a rolling ridge all the way to Davie's Bay. Bekah, who vacations annually in the Sounds with her family, felt at home. "You guys can camp where you want but I'm staying here," she resoundingly declared. I'm glad we stopped! We all pushed and tackled each other into the calm tidal waters, and picked up cockles (clams) to rinse and steam back on shore.
Aside from the consistency of wasp stings (my foot ballooned up awkwardly, Seb's allergies were tested, but Kate didn't flinch or complain at all when she was stung), it was an amazing start to the South Island.
"Was the North Island really worth the effort?" "Wasn't it a lot of road walking?" "Should I only focus on thru-hiking the South Island?"
I learned on the PCT that people try to use fear mongering as a tool to sensationalize their own experiences. Maybe they want to sound like a hero? Maybe they want you to make the same decisions that they made? Typically, they do this to try to justify their decision to hitch around a difficult stretch.
The steps in the Hakarimatas on the North Island had a quote from Henry Ford fastened to one of the railings, "Whether you think you can or you can't - you're right." What kind of mindset do you want to have?
The North Island is laden with trail magic (especially if you endure the character-building road walks). There is beauty also! The Northland beaches, Bream Head, Ngunguru sea kayaking, Pirongia, Pureora forests, Tongariro Crossing, Whanganui River paddling, Tararuas... These are all places that you want to see!
You'll notice I didn't list Raetea, Rangariri stop banks, 42 Traverse, walking along State Highway One, but these places provide good stories. They aren't bad. Like Alex from Couples Retreat says, "It's all part of it."
I'm currently writing my Top 10 Te Araroa Quotes in hut books along the South Island towards Bluff. Every single quote originates from the North Island. Trail families are forged in the relentless grinding crucible that is Geoff Chapple's (curator of the TA) North Island path. I'm glad that I took it. Don't listen to the naysayers, the North Island is cool.
RICHMOND RANGES
Remote. Rugged. Weather-dependent. The Richmond Ranges are unlike anything SOBO Te Araroa hikers have seen. Here are some facts...
● It's 160km between resupply points, Havelock to St. Arnaud.
● There are 14 on-trail huts to stay in during Te Araroa's path through the Richmonds. Don't forget to purchase a backcountry hut pass from DOC.
● This section took Bekah and I seven days to complete. Reyne did it in six days.
● When the rivers swell they can become impassable, forcing you to wait out the weather in one of the backcountry huts.
● This would be our longest stretch between resupply points on the entire trail. For those of you who are looking for hardcore tramping ideas, you'll want to experience this part of New Zealand. It's challenging, and very rewarding.
After the most wonderful rest day in Blenheim with Kate's friends Mac and Anne (not to mention an amazing chicken curry dinner) we hitched back to the trail. I found a ragged, bloodied rugby shirt carelessly discarded alongside the road and added it to my wardrobe. You want to look good when embarking on the most demanding stretches of the TA.
A 20km road/farm walk kicks things off, flooding our memories with North Island nostalgia. Teal colored waters beneath the Pelorus Bridge invited us towards the cliff edge. Seb, Dan, Kate, Bekah, and I all hurled ourselves into the frigid depths, just like the actors in The Hobbit did at this location, only to meet our new nemesis...
"Nothing dangerous lives in New Zealand." Aside from three species of poisonous spiders, that statement is correct. There are a few things, though, that you should at least be cognizant of while traveling to New Zealand's South Island: sandflies, spaniard grass, hook grass, matagouri, and gorse. The latter four are spiky plants that trampers invariably walk into during a normal TA day. Sandflies are simply a camping nightmare.
Worse than mosquitos, blackflies, deer flies, and horse flies, sandflies are ubiquitous across the South Island. "I thought they'd be gone by fall?" I asked hopefully. "No, every season is sandfly season." Kate, a native South Island Kiwi, brought unfortunate tidings. As we exited the Pelorus River, the onslaught commenced. The secret is to keep moving. Once motionless, or drying off after a Pelorus River swim session, the sandflies reign supreme.
During our first night of camping along the Pelorus, we found no reprieve from the endless barrage of sandfly attacks. I was honestly an immature baby about it. Rolling my gloved hands over my socks (sandflies attack low) I would steamroll a dozen flies, only to see their numbers replenish within seconds.
"What do they eat when they can't get hobbit?!" Merry cries with utter disbelief in The Fellowship of the Ring Extended Edition. "Stop complaining Tyler," I could hear the others saying under their breath. My tarp tent set up seems absolutely flawed in sandfly country. I lamented my lack of enclosure, and hoped daylight would come soon.
I awoke irritable and tormented. Sandflies abound, I stormed out of camp only to find more flies with Sebastien at the Emerald Pools and Captain's Creek Hut. Previous visitors cried out in the hut book regarding the prolific sandfly population. Protected inside the hut, I apologized for my morning frustrations and continued over beautiful swing bridges and up steep tracks to Rock Hut.
Glory awaits at Rock Hut in the form of a legendary flushing outhouse toilet. Epic views unfold atop The Rocks side trail. The Richmond Ranges surround us now. The Tasman Sea is visible to the north, the seemingly endless Kahurangi National Park dominates the western sky, and our future alpine track lies to the south.
Spotting Mount Owen to was particularly thrilling for me. I climbed this peak six years ago, and to this day it is still the greatest mountain I've ever climbed.
Reyne, who had an extra day off in Blenheim, surprised us the next day at Browning Hut. He hammered out an impressive 40km day to catch us! With the full squad back together, we went towards Hackett Hut. In the hut book we learned that a group of TA hikers were stuck here for nearly four days due to flooded streams. The Cute Boys Club had seven days of blue sky throughout our dry Richmond Ranges crossing.
Dan and I were the first to complete the 900-meter climb into the alpine zone. The Starveall Hut was immaculate. I went back down to tell Bekah and Reyne that unfortunately there was no view, no water, and that the hut was dilapidated with dead stotes in the rafters. They couldn't tell that I was being facetious. The truth was revealed soon enough. At the base of Mt. Starveall we reached thru-hiking glory. Every step since Starveall Hut has been backpacking bliss. Te Araroa had become the most scenic trail imaginable.
The 20km hike from Starveall to Rintoul Hut was a glorious ridge walk. Ridge walks are the best. We scrambled over seven mountains and had great views in-between. Scrambling might be an understatement. Climbing and descending Little Rintoul and Rintoul were downright dangerous. The risk was worth the reward, as we were treated to stellar views and an incredible sunset.
What happened the next was unexpected. In the midst of the greatest hiking day on trail, the Cute Boys Club separated. Reyne, Bekah, and I went ahead, while the others enjoyed various campsites along the way. Despite the separation anxiety, we were all able to appreciate the Richmond Range brutality. We were ready for anything the South Island could throw at us.
NELSON LAKES NATIONAL PARK
At Redhill Hut, the final hut in the Richmond Ranges, Bekah was reading some entries from the hit book aloud. These hut books are like trail registers, and the personalized comments are typically humorous as well as informative.
"Sounds like the Lodge in St. Arnaud has an all-you-can-eat barbecue on Sundays at 6pm," Bekah inferred from the notes. "Hey Ty-Lah, what day is it?"
"...Oh my God it's a Sunday!"
The three of us hustled for three hours. We made it to the Lodge at 6:10pm and enjoyed two hours of delicious food. Medium rare steak, tender to the touch was our primary objective with each plate reload. Cucumber salad, couscous salad, hearty potato salads, succulent chicken legs all went down smooth after completing the seven day gauntlet.
I had a trail deviation in mind for Nelson Lakes ever since flying back to New Zealand. Six years ago I hiked to Angelus Hut, which is a ridge walk of a lifetime. I didn't climb Mt. Angelus due to the snowpack, and I wanted to make amends. Instead of valley walking, Reyne, Bekah, and I left St. Arnaud's, climbed Robert's Ridge, and camped in the Angelus Basin.
"Just magic!" as some Kiwis say. After 12km of ridge walking, we were at Angelus Hut. Positioned in a ring of mountains sits the most wonderful tarn one could hope to find. The brand new Angelus Hut sits adjacent to it.
Mary the 70-year old hut warden told us that she climbed Mt. Angelus in 1 hour 30 minutes yesterday. Reyne and I nearly matched her ascent with a time of 1 hour 28 minutes. This brings me to the conclusion that Hut Warden Mary is an absolute animal.
I feel like I could be an ambassador for Nelson Lakes National Park. Instead of prose, allow me to bullet the highlights of this section.
● Hike Roberts Ridge
● Stay at Angelus Hut (requires a DOC booking)
● Climb up Sunrise Saddle and summit the 2,000+-meter Mt. Angelus
● Skinny dip in a tarn
● Jump into the Sabine Gorge
● Stop by Blue Lake, clearest known freshwater in the world
● Be on the lookout for whio, New Zealand's endangered duck
● Be on the lookout for whio pooping in what once was the clearest freshwater in the world
● Stand upon the Lake Constance glacial moraine
● Climb Waiau Pass and marvel in the glory of New Zealand's backcountry
The pictures won't do it justice!
SAINT JAMES WALKWAY
I'll end this blog with a bit of astronomy. After a restless night in Caroline's Bivy, a sandfly stronghold, we ambled through fields of gold to Anne Hut. Bekah stayed here years ago, and was excited to return. An older group of trampers greeted us upon arrival. You never know what type of characters you'll bump into at the huts, but they usually have interesting stories. Thus group, including mostly women over the age of 60, had done Waiau Pass the day before us. We shared tramping tales all night, played an addicting card game called Quiddler, and received an astronomy lesson from Jupiter Jeff.
Jeff was rolling around in the grass to secure a primo view of Jupiter's moons. I was permitted to use his binoculars to see them for myself. I felt like a modern day Galileo! Here we are hiking across a small portion of planet Earth, while staring at moons and planets in different parts of our solar system.
Then Jupiter Jeff (I started calling him "Jupiter Jeff" in the wake of this astronomy lesson) showed us how to use the Southern Cross constellation to navigate.
He wasn't finished! Then he pointed out Alpha Centauri, the closest star to our very own sun. Jupiter Jeff showed us the Coal Sack in the Milky Way. Finally, he pointed our two other galaxies visible to the naked eye: the Magellanic Clouds. It felt really good to dork out again.
This experience at Anne Hut made me want to be more aware of the happenings in the night sky. There's a whole universe of new worlds out there, and no time is better than right now to start checking them out.
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