Te Araroa: The Tararuas

30.12.2019 Day 71 (15km)

I was soaking wet, tired, and hungry, but the second I smelled the fire coming from the hut, I pushed myself into overdrive. It was my first day in the Tararuas and they had met my expectations: difficult and muddy. Within the past two weeks two people I knew personally, had been seriously injured in the mountain range. So, I was absolutely content to take things slowly on the slippery, wet slopes. 

Rain was my constant companion as I navigated through roots, scampered up rock walls, and climbed up into a bursting green forest, shrouded in mist. Sweat dripped down my face in rivers, and despite the cooler temperatures, my body was steaming. I honestly believe, if it had not been raining, I still would have been soaked through. 

Te Matawai Hut was quite busy when I arrived. Nine people were huddled inside near the fire and only two of them were TA hikers. After dropping my bag, I quickly removed my shoes and headed to the side of the hut where water streamed off the roof. I climbed underneath the water tanks, where the force was greatest and stood there rinsing the mud from my legs, socks, and shoes with the runoff. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I wrung out my socks the water was still a murky brown. 

Before a chill could catch me, I ran inside and removed my wet clothes, hanging them by the fire. I was bombarded with a sea of questions about my day, before the conversation settled into a more natural flow. It was refreshing to meet a group of hikers who weren’t part of the TA.

Three guys encouraged me to do a side route of the Tararuas, which I had been considering for some time. My concern was doing it alone. They assured me that I would be fine, however one of them was hiking barefoot, so I think their definition of difficult was a bit different from mine. 

Day’s Highlights: Walking through the cloud forest in the rain

31.12.2019 Day 72 (12km)

Mud haunted the path, making each step slippery and treacherous. At a few points, a simple misstep would result in sliding right over the cliff. It didn’t help that grasses were overgrowing the trail, obscuring the view, so it was difficult to discern whether there were rocks, drops, or holes.

Along with the shifting surfaces, the terrain was a series of steep ups and downs. There were a few bits where I had to hang my poles from my wrist and scramble up or down using my hands. Every time I reached a patch of dry, solid ground I took a moment to breathe normally and reassure myself that they day would end with me alive and well. 

I stopped for lunch at a little bivy, 7km away from Te Matawai Hut. It had taken five hours to get there. My knees and ankles were definitely a bit wobbly. As I aired out my wet, muddy feet I hoped the next 8km would be a bit quicker. 

I continued on through thick forests where the trees looked like sheep waiting to be shorn. They huddled close together, shrouded in their fluffy green coats. The path was quite clear, except once, when I followed some footprints to a dead end and had to climb up a steep slope to rejoin the trail. After that I was more attentive to the orange blazes. 

Before long I was back on the cliff tops, a sheer drop descending several hundred meters on either side of me. A dizzying descent over loose stones brought me down into the forest, where the occasional mud puddle slowed my pace. 

The breeze was light and refreshing, as the sun danced in and out of the clouds. Yet, I could feel my energy levels fading as I climbed the final 200m towards the Nichols Hut Junction, so I paused for a few squares of dried coconut. 

Once I reached the summit, my breath was stolen from me. Elegant mountains surrounded me on every side; their hues warmed to golds and emeralds by the sun. In the distance Mt Ruapehu poked its head above the clouds.

Tears rushed to my eyes. Standing there exhausted, encompassed by indescribable beauty, I wept: tears of joy for the day, tears of gratitude for being alive, tears of excitement for the bed that was close at hand, tears of pain for my sore body, tears of sorrow as I could never begin to convey the magnificence of it all to friends and family. 

Day’s Highlights: The spectacular view and lying down at the end of the day.

01.01.2020 Day 73 (19km)

I woke to the virgin light of the new year filling the sky with a rosy pink blush. None of my plans had come to fruition. Originally, I wanted to “Hike in the New Year,” with a dusk till dawn hike. This idea was abandoned when I realized I was going to be in one of the most technically challenging portions of the TA. I didn’t want to be the third person I knew who ended up injured. 

Then I thought I might take an alternate route through the Tararuas. It was an easier descent than the TA, but would add an additional two to three days to my time in the mountains. I had packed extra food, just in case, but quickly realized that I was eating twice what I normally did, due to the challenging terrain. If that weren’t enough, the topographic maps I had downloaded in order to hike that section, were not functioning, which meant I would be hiking blind. 

A tiny part of me still wanted to detour when I set out in the morning, however the wind quickly quelled all desire to spend any more time on the ridges. It wasn’t that it was terrible, comparatively it was quite calm, but I imagine it would get worse in the days to come. 

I had also toyed with doing a sunrise hike on New Years Day, but when it came down to it, the view from my warm sleeping bag was sufficient.

I was only on the ridges for a couple hours before starting the 1000m descent into the forest. Now that I’m settled in for the night and writing, I realize I hardly took any photos of the crazy steep bits. I had been so anxious to get down safely, that I hadn’t cared enough to stop. The range was drier than the other side, so the trees were coatless and mud was rare. Roots created stairs and ladders to assist with the journey, although I approached each with caution and focus. 

Three hours (only 3km) later, I stopped for lunch at Waitewaewae Hut; then pushed on 10km to the next hut. I lost count of how many fallen trees blocked the path. Each required me to stop and detour, over, under, around, over and under at the same time. It was a bit of a hassle, but the relief that washed over me when I conquered it all was amazing. 

Day’s Highlights: I didn’t fall off a mountain! (like James)