Te Araroa: Sickness is Catching
21.02.2020 Day 116 (56km biking)
The wind was making it almost impossible to keep my tyre straight. I hoped switching gears would help, but the bike was shit. As the gear jerked into place, the wind shoved me into a patch of rougher gravel. My attempts at salvaging the situation proved futile, and resulted in me lying on my back in the grass. I had managed to push myself away from the bike as I fell so no injuries were sustained, other than a bruise on my hip.
I stayed there for a moment, motionless in the grass, allowing exhaustion to have its way with me. For a few days, I had been feeling quite fatigued, even faint at times, though I continued to dismiss it as nothing. Will pulled up and asked if I was alright; time to move again. With a shrug I cursed the wind, and hopped back on my bike.
The wind and rain pounded me continually, threatening my balance, and pushing me to the brink of exhaustion. Fortunately, that was my only tumble for the day, and after a short break by a canal, the skies began to clear. I wish I could say the wind followed the heavy grey beasts, but it didn’t.
At least we weren’t walking. On a bike the section was fine, but 56km of tarmac and gravel road on foot, with mediocre views, and heavy winds was by no means appealing.
From our sunny lunch spot on the shores of Lake Pukaki, we watched the rain pour down the distant snow-tipped peaks and smiled on our turn of fortune.
Day’s Highlights: Having the wind behind us (which only happened occasionally)
22.02.2020 Day 117 (0km)
My body was revolting against me. I was tired but sleep refused to come, feverish but cold, sweating yet shivering; headaches, nausea, dizziness, shaky and faint. In other words, it was time for a REAL rest.
We had set aside an extra day in Twizel to go explore the Mt Cook area. However, the night before I wasn’t able to fall asleep without the assistance of pain meds and a cold compress on my head, and even then the slumber was fitfull at best. Reluctant as I was, I told the boys to go on without me and have a great time.
The majority of the day was spent in bed, flooding myself with fluids, and occasionally watching Netflix. By the time the boys returned, I was actually feeling a wee bit improved. So we finished off the night by going out for the most delicious meal I’ve had in New Zealand.
Day’s Highlights: Every bite of the perfectly tender steak
23.02.2020 Day 118 (30km)
It should have been an easy day, but the kilometers seemed to drip by like frozen molasses. With each step my pack dug into my hips, so by the end of the day I had raw spots like two little headlights on my protruding bones.
Part of the problem was I had a couple of heavy surprises for the boys, which I would give them at the end of the day. I desired nothing more than to arrive at camp and unload my burden; but the flat road seemed to go on forever. Gravel dug into my feet like an artist trying to mould clay with a tiny mallet.
Mid-afternoon found us abandoning our packs for a quick dip in Lake Ohau. The cold water eased my aches and pains, providing me with the rejuvination I required for the final seven kilometers.
Once we were settled at camp, I pulled out the three cans of beer that I felt we deserved after the long trek in the sun. Watching their faces light up was well worth the extra pain and weight of the day.
Day’s Highlights: Laying down and Tiger Balm on my achy joints
24.02.2020 Day 119 (32km)
That was it: I was going to lose my footing and be swept downstream, and the boys would never let me live it down. I thrust my leg against the current, wedging my foot between two stones and inching closer to the bank.
Another step on the slippery rocks…almost there. Jimmy paced the opposite shore, ready to jump into action should something go wrong. Knowing he was willing to dive in after me was my only comfort.
The water was past my hips. Another step. My muscles ached after the long day and I wasn’t certain how much more they could endure. Then suddenly, the depth disappeared and I was back to knee deep; then ankle deep; I was on dry land.
My body trembled with adrenaline, which I attempted to shake off as I watched Alex navigate his way through the same section. It had been the biggest, strongest, and scariest river I’d had to cross. Thank goodness I hadn’t been alone.
There was no hut at the end of the day, only tents, and no main road for days. I took deep breaths, placing my pack on the rocks, and waiting as others reached the river and forced their way across. I had made it, I was alright, and gradually the adrenaline eased away.
Day’s Highlights: The shade, which only lasted for about an hour at the beginning of the day but was still quite nice.
25.02.2020 Day 120 (22km)
There was nowhere to go, just scattered piles of rocks at the top of the saddle, but I had to go. Something was amiss and my body wanted it gone. Was it the water? Something I ate? Another wave swept over me, forcing me to stop walking until it passed. I was definitely going to be sick, one way or the other, and quite soon.
So, I did what I had to, dropping my pack on the edge of the trail and hopping through the boulder field to find a secluded crevice. Unfortunately, getting it out didn’t help me feel better. I took an Imodium and braced myself against the nausea that assaulted me like swells in a storm.
Will and Alex had stopped for lunch by a stream on the other side of the saddle. I couldn’t even begin to consider eating, but I filtered new water, just in case. Not that it mattered much, I only took two sips for the next eight kilometers.
When I finally reached the hut, I immediately went through my food and discovered the hard boiled eggs had definitely gone off. They had smelled fine the previous day, but now they were well past rotten. To make matters worse, the sandflies were especially terrible at the hut, which was the last thing I needed when I was feeling ill.
After resting on one of the bunks for a bit I managed to keep down some water with electrolytes. Then I had to lie down for the queasiness to pass. A little later I managed some soup, which once again resulted in me horizontal and waiting for calm. I repeated this process several times, until I made it through a pot of ramen. Having skipped lunch, I knew it wasn’t enough, but I couldn’t tolerate anything more.
As I stared at the bottom of the top bunk I thought about how lovely the morning had been. I had taken a short break at a cute private hut on the edge of a bubbling river. Shortly after, I rounded a corner to discover a beautiful range of ragged mountain peaks. I’m sure the views during the second half of the day had been equally striking; I was simply too busy holding myself together to really appreciate them.
Day’s Highlights: Sitting outside the private hut on a nice chair and making it through dinner
26.02.2020 Day 121 (25km)
It was a measly little hill and it was absolutely defeating me. A faint voice in my brain said, “If you’re struggling with this 30m climb, how on Earth are you going to do the 1000m ascent later today?” My energy levers were practically non-existent due to the lack of food on the previous day.
However, I think for my condition, the track was in a way, ideal. Composed of narrow ledges overlooking a river, with short steep inclines, and focus-demanding declines, I had no choice but to take things slowly. Which was exactly what my body required. Although, navigating the bits with the large drops in my weakened state did make me a bit nervous.
By lunch I actually noticed that I was improving. My stomach continued to ache after each snack, but at least I didn’t feel like a deflated balloon anymore. I was as ready as I was going to be to take on the climb.
Other than getting lost and momentarily stranded on a ledge, it wasn’t half as bad as I had imagined it would be. It felt like walking up stairs and before long I was at the top…well, sort of. I had arrived at the hut where everyone else was taking a short breather. I joined them, before heading up the old 4WD track that led further into the hills.
The views were enough to stop you in your tracks: treeless, jagged ridges in the foreground, shadowed by distant snowy peaks. But it was nothing compared to the final peak.
Standing on the jutting cusp of a mountain, the wind caressing my face, I felt like I was on a movie set. From Breast Hill I gazed down the crumbling slopes to the deep blue Lake Hawea far below. Clouds spotted the skies, giant saucers stark white against the crystal heavens. It was the kind of place that made me say, “THIS is why I’m hiking the TA.”
Day’s Highlights: Finally starting to feel a little better AND Breast Hill
