July 28th to 31st - The Deathening

Albeit an admiral undertaking in the heart of winter, the Lake Waikeremoana Great Walk was unfortunately almost a complete disaster. The DOC ranger responsible for administering our hut passes was incredulous to our lack of knowledge concerning things as simple as the direction in which we intended to walk, though in our minds we weren’t there to think, just to walk. We figured we’d be able to hitch a ride to the beginning of the track with one of the regular tour operators but it came down to the last one on the list and even he was hard pressed to leave his home at this time of the winter to drive us. One of the few things we did do correctly in preparation for this undertaking was pack enough food though only because we got greedy at the supermarket with all the snacks that caught our eyes. So it was that we set off at 8am on Thursday morning on what would be a real test of our limits. The driver warned us that the track started with a massive uphill hike that was as frustrating as it was difficult because it continually deceived one into think they’d reached the peak when really they had not. I started the morning in three layers and a rainproof jacket but was down to a t-shirt only 10 minutes in despite suggesting we ‘’have a quick rest every half hour’’. If it weren’t for the spectacular panoramic views I might not have made it through that first day. We climbed to a cliff over 1100 meters in elevation that zigzagged through muddy, treacherous forest, all the while toting packs stuffed to the brim with snacks and multiple clothing layers. I was particularly feeling the strain as my pack had a few broken straps keeping it from staying upright properly which made the fact that it had our camping stove in it a…well, a bitch. When we finally reached the hut (otherwise only accessible by helicopter) I felt lightheaded. It was only then that we realized we had forgotten our cooking pot back at the motor camp where we’d left our vehicle. Luckily for us someone had left an old clunker of a pot behind and so we were able to cook our spaghetti dinner with a reasonable amount of dignity. That night was actually quite nice at first; we were exhausted but content after wolfing down copious amounts of pasta and chocolate which was followed by reading by candlelight. The elevation combined with the snow outside should’ve been a clear indication that we were in for a really cold night but we weren’t prepared for what was to come. We hauled the sleeping mats over by the fire and were able to fall asleep but were awake by 2am freezing our buns off. We were forced to build a heat trapping fortress in the darkness and I ended up wearing 5 pairs of socks and sticking my legs through the arms of my jacket. Regardless of our efforts it was a long night; a very real risk of hypothermia existed due in part to a finicky fire and our lack of sleeping bag but we somehow survived, physically fine but mentally shaken. It was a treat to boil our drinking water in the morning because we could hold the bottles in our hands and warm our frozen fingers. We once again devoured our meal; we were absolutely ravenous after using up so much body energy remaining properly heated. It actually felt nice to be walking again because it meant we could feel our toes once more. As I learned on my England walk, going downhill can sometimes be harder than up if it continues for long enough. My knees were starting to feel the burn and I was in a bit of a foul mood. The deity of the forest took pity on us and granted us a hot, short day and by 1pm we were at the 2nd hut, at lake level, basking in the afternoon sun. We applied all the lessons we’d learned from the previous night to avoid another disaster. I built us a heat fortress and insulated it with unused mats. I used some of the precious propane fuel to heat my hot water bottle and after emptying out my backpack I placed it inside to warm my feet as the backpack became a makeshift mini sleeping bag. We kept the hut fire running all afternoon so that our room would be as warm as could be and I actually managed to get a somewhat decent sleep that night. Jaclyn may shoot me if she reads this but the only thing stopping me from sleeping through the night was her snoring. After I remarked upon it she claimed that I was snoring too though I haven’t been told I’ve done that in years (and she’s done it every night!). I can forgive her nocturnal nasal noises because she can make a mean fire, and that kept me alive. Day three saw us walk the equivalent of a half marathon and it teetered back and forth between pleasure and insanity. The straps of my backpack cut into my shoulders at times making the hills unbearable but the vistas at breaks were exceedingly beautiful. Dinner and breakfast were the same as the past two nights, pasta for the former and oatmeal for the latter. We mutually agreed to indulge our gourmet fantasies upon our return to civilization. We settled upon burgers and shakes which we are leaving to get shortly. The good news is we didn’t die; the bad news is that with a little more careful consideration, the walk could’ve been a lot better than it was. That being said, I would still whole heartedly recommend it but do it in summer and take an extra day to fully appreciate the surroundings. We drove to Napier after finishing up today and, perhaps on account of my tiredness, I almost got us killed in a roundabout. I was listening to Jaclyn as she searched for street signs to give directions to our hostel and at the last second we realized I was in the wrong lane. I indicated to go left but didn’t notice the roundabout had started already and so I went in looking in the direction opposite to that of oncoming traffic. Luckily Jaclyn shouted in time and I swerved to miss a van coming right at us. I hopped up on a curb and came to a halt about a foot from a streetlamp. I’m sure to anyone watching it was a huge nail biter but I’m inclined to forget the whole episode. We survived, no one got hurt and we can forget and move on. This burger I’m about to devour is well deserved. After all the stupid things I’ve subjected myself to in the past three months, it would’ve been a shame to go in a low speed car wreck but for now I’m just going to call it another item in the laundry list of near death experiences that have happened to me in New Zealand.