Queenstune

By Tyler Socash
IG: @tylerhikes

"I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike."  We sing a lot of Queen on trail.  We shout it at the top of our lungs, actually.  On top of Pirongia.  At the Waihaha Hut serenading Couples Retreat.  Along mindless road walks.  Bohemian Rhapsody is our absolute favorite, but from Lake Tekapo to Lake Ohau I hummed a different tune...

Alps 2 Ocean is a massive 301km national cycle trail linking the Southern Alps to the Pacific Ocean.  It happens to overlap with 100km of Te Araroa road walking.  Instead of pounding the pavement, Otis, Reyne, Bekah, and I opted for a new challenge: cycling 100km in one day, because darn it I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like!

The day started innocently enough with a casual late start as we soaked up free WiFi in Tekapo.  Fresh off-trail from a snowy climb near Mt. Cook, we were eager to update our families with our progress before moving on.  WiFi is a dangerous reclusive gateway.  It's the rabbit hole that's too seductive to neglect, especially when you're without a cellular data plan.  Once Instagam and Facebook updates reached their saturation points, we donned our helmets.  Finally feeling Under Pressure to get to Lake Ohau, the Bicycle Race was underway.

With mechanized assistance the kilometers melted away.  Goodbye Telegraph Hut!  Goodbye road-walking friends!  The enchanting waters of Lake Pukaki urged us down a long gravel road to a wonderful resting point.  We found a picturesque spot to belly flop into the glacially-created lake.  Otis belly flopped first with an epic two thumbs up landing.  His smile as he soared through the air gave us a good laugh.  Reyne and I followed suit.  The vibrant water color, caused by the high concentration of glacial flour, captivates every onlooker but fails to soften our landing.

Belly flops behind us, we detoured into Twizel's town center to see our friend Sebastien.  It was great to see him in such high spirits after suffering a broken cuboid bone in his foot the week prior.  We got a bit of a chuckle upon manipulating the medical terminology into "cuteboy bone."  Thru-hiking isn't accident proof.  Somewhere a sinister Geoff Chapple is thinking Another One Bites The Dust.  Resilience is the key, and Seb is resilient.  Sebastien will return to complete Te Araroa next year!

After signing his cast, we collectively realized The Show Must Go On.  Our bike seats felt much less comfortable this time, but we hopped on them to smash out the final 40km of biking.  Departing for this stretch was not without reticence.  If you are mining for ideas to improve your future Te Araroa experience, then please pay attention...

Wishing that we were all Fat Bottomed Girls to cushion ourselves, we followed Te Araroa dutifully down the Ohau River flood track.  Instead of a pathway we were greeted with character-building boulders, stones, and speed-impeding pebbles.  The gravel road shook us to the core and rawed our sore rumps.  We could hear the flood track mocking us, "We Will Rock You."  [Tyler, consider editing this weaker song title reference out before publishing.]  Making terribly slow progress towards Lake Ohau, we barely passed two brave SOBOs who were diligently walking this 100km section.  Our coccyx-crunching crew must have appeared quite pathetic as we had to walk our bikes uphill next to the walkers. 

When all hope had faded, we made it to Lake Ohau at sunset.  Bekah erupted with a series of celebratory dog barks upon spotting smooth pavement.  We laughed initially, but joined her in a glorious chorus of hoots and woofs.  We Are The Champions!  100 kilometers in one day!  Te Araroa has enough road walk sections, and we were thrilled to see that horrendous Twizel to Ohau flood track come to a merciful end.  Avoid riding there, and instead stay on the north side of the Ohau River or ride the length of Lake Ohau Road.

The largest South Island river without a bridge awaited us in the next section.  Reyne must have been thinking Don't Stop Me Now as he forded the Ahuriri above a series of dangerous rapids.  He made the crossing, but just barely through hip-deep water.  Otis went for an unannounced swim when the Ahuriri current proved to be too swift.  Bekah and I decided to walk 200 meters downstream where the river braided to make a safer crossing.

A TA highlight awaited us after the Ahuriri.  The summit of Breast Hill provided immaculate views in every direction, including a stunning 1,200-meter drop to Lake Hawea below.  "One should not neglect the Breast... Hill," someone quipped.  While hiking through the Timaru River on our approach, I fashioned a makeshift award for Reyne.  Today happened to be Reyne's graduation day, and he was to receive the "Top Student" award for his program in Quantity Surveying.  Breast Hill provided a worthy backdrop for his impromptu trail graduation.  Speeches were made, and instead of a paper certificate, I presented Reyne with a non-thruhike friendly etched rock.  He was pleasantly surprised, but perhaps a bit disgruntled when he had to hike out with his heavy and awkward award.

Reyne and I sat up there for over two hours.  When you get closer to the end of a journey you tend to give certain moments special significance.  Your last campsite, your last beach walk, your last impromptu trail graduation...  Reyne has been a constant source of fun and intellectual conversation for our trail family since Cape Reinga.  I'll miss this guy a lot.  He made singing Queen songs on trail a tradition.  He sparked my passion to have a continuous path from the Tararuas to Bluff.  He challenged me to be a better version of myself.  As we sat on Breast Hill, Mt. Cook appeared as a snow-capped giant far to the north, while Queenstown's Double Cone in the Remarkables was visible far to the south.  What a spot!  This was one of my favorite moments on the trail.  I'm glad I got to linger here awhile longer with a great friend.

Graduation celebrations continued the next day when Bekah, Reyne, and I hitched over 400km to get to Christchurch.  Bekah and Kate's commencement ceremony was filled with more obnoxious cheering than our 100km bike ride.  Our trail family reunited for an evening in Christchurch, which was absolutely awesome.  The good times were well-earned for the accomplished females in our group.  Congrats again to Bekah and Kate on earning your degrees! It was wonderful to see Kate, Dan, and Seb again before heading back to the trail.  A great surprise awaited Reyne after the graduation as his girlfriend Brooke plotted and planned in collusion with Bekah to return to the trail with us.  It's great to have Brooke as a new member of the trail family.  Her family helped us out tremendously in the North Island, and now we get to walk with her to Bluff!

Lake Hawea led to Wanaka.  Wanaka led to the Motatapu Track.  The Motatapu Track has huts that were funded by the revolutionary American singing sensation Shania Twain.  Bekah got sick in Shania Twain's huts.  The Motatapu Track led to an ambulance evacuation of Bekah.  We waited in Wanaka for three days for Bekah to return to good health.  Wanaka led to the Motatapu Track.  The Motatapu Track led to Bekah's second round of illness.  Tyler ventures out into Shania Twain Country (music) alone.  Tyler meets a man named Dene from Riverton who thru-hiked Te Araroa before it's official inception.  (Dene, as well as those walkers we passed on the flood track, will come into play later.)  Tyler hikes 55km to meet up with Bekah in the biggest New Zealand tourist trap of all... Queenstown.

When you can't find cheap accommodation because Queenstown has been booked solid for months and is absolutely overrun with gawking visitors, Queen's tunes are there for you as a welcomed distraction.  Hum any of them when you encounter life's rocky roads and you'll find yourself blissfully whisked away to a fantastical rock anthem instead.

I recently spent my last night in a hut along Te Araroa.  Martin's Hut has aged gracefully, and provides a rustic staging area for thru-hikers eyeing up their Bluff finish.  Most of the hut book entries are sentimental.  Nearly everyone loved their time in New Zealand, and they made lifelong friends and memories along the way.

My last hut entry reads: Is this the real life?  Is this just fantasy?  Caught in a thru-hike, our escape from "reality."

Enter the Marae

By Tyler Socash
IG: @tylerhikes

"The kauri trees were massive," Petuere walked solemnly in a large circle around a Māori statue, outlining what would have been the circumference of New Zealand's tallest tree.  Our canoe entourage had arrived at Tieke Kainga, our fourth campsite along the Whanganui River trip.  "They once touched the sky."

Tieke Kainga was unique.  A marae, Māori meeting and ceremonial grounds, was adjacent to the campsite.  Reyne once told me that you could not enter a marae without first being welcomed in.  This blog begins with my first powhiri, a Māori welcoming ceremony, involving speeches, dancing, singing, and a hongi.

Our host for the evening was the Waimarino tribal leader.  Petuere, an overtly passionate man in his fifties, stated that tonight's ceremony would be closely followed by a heritage talk.  This was an opportunity to learn about the Māori culture firsthand.

As we sat down for the introduction, Petuere asked for a volunteer to speak on behalf of their group during the powhiri.  My hand immediately went skyward.

I followed Petuere towards the marae.  He led the procession with a powerful haka.  Tongue out, eyes wide open.  The scene was emotionally charged when Petuere beckoned me to come forward.  Holding the ceremonial staff, I introduced the members of the Cute Boys Club and Couples Retreat.  I felt very lucky to be standing there, and I was certainly nervous.  I'm not sure if I found the right words for our group's collective purpose, but I was honored to be the voice.

Earlier upstream Girl Alex and Jer encouraged us to learn group songs for the powhiri.  Jer recommended Bill Withers Lean On Me. Girl Alex adapted an Australian song to appeal to our gracious host...  We sang both numbers.  Girl Alex, who often sings Disney tunes with the voice of an angel, had us learn the following song:

We are one, but we are many
And from all the lands on Earth we come.
We share a dream (Jer and Boy Alex's echo: We share a dream!)
And sing with one voice.
I am, you are, we are whānua.  (Māori for "family")

Upon completing the ritual, we were welcomed to tour the property.  The marae was even offered to our group as a shelter.  Jer, Anna, Alex, Alex, Maria, Bekah, and I decided to sleep there.  "...When in Tieke Kainga," you know?!?

Petuere transitioned into the heritage talk, which covered his tribe's origin, identity, and land acquisitions / holdings.

"Uenuku is the tribe, Ruatipua is the great ancestor, and we are the descendants of the 101 non-seller owners," he recited with pride. 

It was a rather impressive oratorical performance.  He credited his ancestors and referenced his extensive genealogy throughout the talk.  Petuere highlighted the Rainbow Tribe's lands, extending from the summit of Ruapehu to the Whanganui River, much of which we had traversed over the previous week.

Then Petuere spoke of Great Britain's impact on the Waimarino tribe.  This final portion of the heritage talk really moved me.  Petuere stared with great reverence into the air at the base of the Māori statue, looking at an imaginary kauri tree. 

"...And with these mighty old growth trees that the British cut down, they built Wellington, and Auckland, and Christchurch, and Dunedin..." he spoke with trepidation. "When my ancestors asked for compensation from the British, who took trees from our lands, and minerals from our rivers, the Waimarino tribe was offered 2 cents for every dollar that they deserved."  Tears formed in the corners of my eyes.  I just recited The Lorax the day prior at the John Coull Hut.  Petuere's retelling sounded eerily similar.

After the presentation, I asked Petuere how he deals with the frustration of injustice.  "You have to have forgiveness in your heart," he replied earnestly.  "And those trees, they made a promise to my ancestors: 'don't cut us down, and we won't ever cut you down.'  And the trees never have."  That made me cry. 

Walking Te Araroa, I take a lot of pictures.  I share the best ones.  Perhaps I give a distorted image of what the TA is actually like?  It's 15% road walks.  Our halfway point, kilometer marker 1503 is a massive clear cut on a logging road.  Some people say, "Yeah, but those were planted pines.  They aren't native.  They were grown to be cut."  We forget to think back to a time when these pine groves were all native bush.  There are nearly 8 billion people on Earth.  We need to log trees, a renewable resource, to thrive.  That makes sense from an economical perspective, but we also forget that we don't own the trees.  That part is hard to understand.  I guess I still don't understand it.  After walking 3,500 miles this year, I can only say that it makes me sad to walk through clearcuts and along roads where once beautiful, untrammeled forests existed. 

I stared at the ceiling of the marae that night.  A classic line from The Lorax crept into my head.  "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  It's not."

I'm not quite sure what to do about that message.  But I am starting to care about whole awful lot about the natural world on this walk.  I cared before.  I just care more.  We all have the chance to be stewards of the land.  Even the rubbish bin next to me at this McDonald's where I'm typing my blog says, "Inside, Outside: Be a tidy Kiwi." 

                           * * *

The river trip ended on another emotional note.  I thought I'd have to leave the group to stay on schedule with my calendar year plans...  My mood became quite somber. 

Unexpectedly, I heard my name being shouted from atop a river bank.  It was Tobi!  Tobi left the group one month ago to go explore the South Island.  He came back to do one last big hike in Tongariro before flying home.  Tobi drove along the Whanganui River all day, hoping to spot us.  It felt like divine intervention to see him again.  I was reminded about how fun it was to stay with the group.

The Alex's of Couples Retreat gave me great advice: live in the present.  "The trail will always be here, but the people change," Girl Alex said.  "The past is history, the future is a mystery, right now is a gift, that's why they call it 'the present.'"  Sage advice.

Kate added, "Focus on what you have right now."  I know she was telling me to stop being so mopey.

The last day on the river we came across a rope swing.  It was gigantic.  At one point Dan, Reyne, Sebastien, Jer, Alex, and I swung together.  It was a hoot!

Bekah and I also had a fantastic experience capsizing our canoe.  We went through the aptly-named "50-50 Rapids" with a cavalier attitude.  After the second wave, our canoe filled with water.

"Bekah, we're sinking!" I shouted.  She turned around in disbelief as we hit the next series of waves.  My efforts to balance the vessel were futile.  Buckles snapped and our gear emptied into the Whanganui.  The canoe rolled, sending Bekah and I overboard.

I stayed with the canoe, Bekah floated safely downstream clutching our loose barrels.  We had our life jackets on, so we felt safe.  Bekah erupted with laughter, which made me laugh too.  It was quite the scene. 

A jet boat happened to be coming around the corner that very moment.  Talk about fortuitous timing!  The driver helped us gather our goods, and he helped us drag the canoe to shore.  It was a highlight of the river trip!  I only lost a pair of ripped trousers and three Mountain Dews to the angry river spirits that tipped-a-canoe-and-Tyler-too.

Yet again, I decided to prolong my southbound journey with my friends.  We are still hiking together, and I secured a visitor's visa.  The stories with the Cute Boys Club and Couples Retreat are too good to pass up! 

So all is well in New Zealand!  I'll be here awhile longer!  I can't wait to share stories of trail magic and hiking in the Tararuas in my next post.

Look Outside

By Tyler Socash
IG: @tylerhikes

"Why are you thru-hiking?" Otis asked.  With Sweet Caroline playing in the background of Podge's Bar, friends dancing freely around the billiard table, and glasses half-full, it felt more like a hikertrash party than a thru-hike.

Surely a visceral connection with nature factors in.  The sense of freedom you feel while thru-hiking is comparable to being a 13-year old on summer vacation.  "Essentially, to have fun," I offered.

"Look around you..."

Otis was right.  I am surrounded by a phenomenal trail family.  Fun seems to find us wherever we go.  The gang doesn't want me to leave, I don't want to leave. 

This reminds me of hiking with the Wrong Way Gang, Wildfire, Half Jesus, Mantis, Chopstake, Spice Man, and Chili Pepper from the PCT.  I wished we all could have hiked the entire trail together.  Groucho once reminded me to, "look outside," whenever experiencing a challenge.  As I look outside of myself at the moment, I see all of my Te Araroa friends breaking into another rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.  Looking outside of one's self allows for a new perspective.  You notice things like Sebastian the Frenchman attempting to learn Queen lyrics just to be included in another group activity!  I might as well bust out the falsetto voice and join them as well.

Speaking of the WWG, Harpo and Groucho pivide some insight into the overarching southbound saga in their amazing blog: https://songsoutofthecity.com/about/

"But I must press on!" I thought.  Bluff is still over two-thousand kilometers away...

On Christmas Eve I met a wonderful and diverse group of people.  They traveled far and wide to pursue Te Araroa as a thru-hike.  I warned them that I would be pressing onwards Christmas Day.  I had to stay on schedule. 

Something magical happened.  We laughed all night, played music on Otis's travel-sized guitar, and shared stories.  Our group grew close.  We became a trail family.  And just like that, 40km days became 20km days.  Being pulled into Podge's Bar was one of the many recent examples of Trail Magic our group has experienced.  I feel compelled to share these tales of Trail Magic with you all...

● December 30th was amazing.  Our group walked through a nudist beach in Ruakaka.  We ate Fish n' Chips in Waipu (I eat fish n' chips everywhere here).  Then we found the most incredible campsite overlooking the Pacific Ocean on a hilltop. 

Immediately after capturing a scandalous butt photo for Facebook, we hear the sound of an ATV climbing the hillside to our site.  We met Jason, Frank, and Nicola who informed us that we were on private property, but we were welcome to camp there.  Two more ATV's came rumbling uphill.  Each of them carrying multiple passengers.

"Who are these terrorists?!?" grumbled the witty old man.  It was obvious that he had been drinking.  Or as Reyne would say, he was half-cut.  "This is my land, but you're welcome to camp all over it." 

The conversation with the locals evolved into an invitation to join their party down the hill at their cabin.  I encouraged the crew to embrace this unexpected magic, and down the hill we went!

We stumbled upon a backcountry cabin with music blaring and a fire roaring.  Soon we were drinking home-brewed ale and rum, playing cards, and painting murals on the cabin walls.  Reyne and I stayed an extra two hours laughing with the locals.  At the end of the night, we were chauffeured back up the hill via an exhilarating ATV ride.  We were given a huge jug of homebrew as a parting gift.  It was a crazy night.  One of many to come consecutively...

● On New Years Eve we gathered together on Pakiri Beach to celebrate.  I performed a rendition of The Lorax while Tobi played guitar.  We competed in a game of Scrumpy Hands, which is the Kiwi version of Edward 40-Hands.  Kate's friend James flew up from Christchurch to join us.

That's when the magic began!

James caught a fortuitous hitch to the Pakiri Beach.  (Kiwi hospitality is legendary.)  The hitch provider was a  friendly local named Tristan.  The hitch went so well that James invited Tristan to join us at our beachside extravaganza. 

Darkness fell,  the surf picked up, and our tents shook violently in the wind.

After a few more hours of debauchery our group was presented with an opportunity.  "A storm is coming. 180mm of rain in 24 hours.  You guys are welcome to crash at my place," Tristan eagerly proposed.  It took us awhile to consider the offer.  Honestly, Tristan repeated his New Years Eve alternative 16 times and I finally said, "Guys we have to take him up on this magic!"  Minutes later we were packing up and shuttling to a stranger's home for the countdown to the New Year.  Just after midnight, The Great Deluge of 2016 began.

We woke up on January 1st to find Tristan preparing farm fresh eggs and ham.  He cooked for nine people (while also providing space and hot showers for nine filthy hikers) out of the goodness of his heart.  He asked for nothing in return.  Tristan even offered us free accommodation for a second night, but we thanked him and explained how we had to return to the trail.  We didn't want to overstay our greatly appreciated welcome!

● The magic continued New Years Day as Reyne (Hilarious Kiwi), Sebastian (Romantic Frenchman), Maria (Newest Group Member - German) and I pulled ahead of the group only to get caught in another driving rain storm.  Our German friend Tobi was able to secure an earlier hitch into town even while looking like a dripping wet serial killer in his full-body durable poncho.  (This same hitch provider took Tobi out for tea once they got to town - what a country!)

After 4 more hours of walking we were certain that Tobi would be gone for good.  We headed into the town of Orewa at sunset to seek reprieve from the cold only to find that the hostels were booked. 

While drying out in Maccas (Kiwi slang term for McDonald's) we were able to convince a hostel owner to toss four thin mattresses down in a communal space for the night.  Amazingly, Tobi happened to be at that same hostel.

● January 2nd turned out to be a real treasure.  If you're still reading, this is when it gets good.  Reyne and I trudged through the rain together when suddenly a car pulled over.  With a surfboard stuffed in his backseat, and his eyes burning red from sea salt, a Te Araroa veteran pulled over to ask, "Are you guys thru-hiking?!" 

Luke completed Te Araroa in 2012-2013.  Our large packs looked all too familiar.  Within minutes, Luke invited Reyne and I to stay at his flat that night.  A few moments after arriving, Reyne and I were introduced to the game of the century...

Rules of Vase-ball (Copyright belongs to Luke, Michelle, Rory, Stephen, and Laura)

- In the center of a table, a cylindrical vase stands empty and upright.

- Participants entering the arena must have a drink in their hand.

- Ping pong balls must be shot from approximately 1-meter away.

- If a participant sinks a shot, they can nominate an opponent to take a drink.  The shot maker must remove their ping pong ball after a make.

- If another participant sinks a shot before an opponent's made shot is retrieved, the original shot maker drinks twice.

Ping pong balls were flying everywhere.  Before we knew it, Reyne and I were invited to go grab Vietnamese food in Takapuna with this energetic bunch.  Stephen even accomplished an unprecedented eating feat at the Vietnamese establishment.  The beer flowed like wine.  Cab fares and bus fares were covered by these kind strangers.  When we got back that night, Luke and Rory treated us to a musical performance of a lifetime.  Laura and Michelle made us feel like lifelong friends.  It was the greatest flat in the world!  It was a tough place to leave.  Thank you Luke, Michelle, Rory, Stephen, and Laura for your inimitable kindness!

● On January 3rd Reyne and I continued our coastal walk with Auckland's Sky Tower in sight.  Out of nowhere a wonderful man chased us down and asked us what we were hiking.  "Te Araroa,  New Zealand's Long Pathway," Reyne explained.  "We walked here from Cape Reinga." 

"Oh cool!" Marcus exclaimed. "Do you guys want to come in for a cold drink?!?"  We had only departed from Luke's an hour prior, but you learn to become a "Yes!" person on the trail.

Marcus brought us into his home, introduced to his wife and kids, and we proceeded to share travel stories.  We also had a lovely sidebar conversation about The Force Awakens.  Marcus and Sue really blew us away with their hospitality and their genuine interest in our journey.  Reyne and I left their home in the highest of spirits.  Receiving all of this unexpected magic certainly humbles and invigorates you.  It makes me want to be a more loving person.  The good karma of the Kiwi people is off the charts!  Thank you Marcus, Sue, Louis, and Ella for being so generous with your time.  You guys make me want to listen to the stories of others more intently.

I continued on my own into Devonport and got stopped by an elderly couple who were interested in my backpack.

"Where are you king with such a big pack?"

"To Bluff!"

"...I see... You'll want some of this chocolate then?"

I thanked them profusely.  What a week!  Kate, Rebekah, Otis, James, Sebastian, Reyne, and his lovely girlfriend Brooke all converged upon the Devonport Ferry site at once.  We were off to Auckland!  Rebekah and I did our best imitation of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet as we approached Auckland.

Tobi, Manuela, and Maria were there to greet us.  The gang was back together, albeit temporarily.

Kate's cousin Tracey graciously allowed us to stay at her house for two days in Auckland.  We played a lot of Rummy Cube and had a farewell party for Tobi who was moving on to the South Island.

It's sad to lose a group member like Tobi.  I had so much fun getting to know him since Christmas Eve.  He has such a good soul!  Tobi was our bodysurfing champion!  He is full of life and eager to do anything.  It's crazy, Reyne and Sebastian met Tobi just before the 90 Mile Beach by Cape Reinga.  Tobi was simply starting his solo North Island vacation.  Reyne and Seb told him what they were doing, and Tobi just decided that he would walk Te Araroa too!!!  What an impulsive decision! (I call this, "pulling a Tobi.")  He ended up walking 600km on a whim!

At a pub in Auckland, Tobi told me that he was having one of the most amazing times of his life.  This was his last supper with the group.

His words stuck with me.  He was having a great time with this group.  It was emotional, it was powerful.

• • •

As we walked towards Hamilton, we were offered to sleep for free in two backyards.  One of them leads us back to the beginning of this blog post. 

While at Podge's, I thought of what Otis said, I thought about what Tobi said, I thought about what Groucho said.  None of this trail magic would have befallen us had the group dynamics been different.  This trail is keeping us together.  As Wildfire and Half Jesus used to say, "The trail provides!"

Kate, Rebekah, Otis, Sebastian, Reyne, Manuela, Maria, Tobi... This TA family has become a critical part of the journey.  It will only get better as our mate Tim returns this week! (He left the trail due to a foot injury before New Years Eve... and to do some wakeboarding / rollerblading because he's so damn interesting.)

It's time for me to pull a Tobi, look outside of myself, and commit to the group as long as possible. 

*****************

Godspeed Tobi, see you on the Appalachian Trail!