For the love of lake-hopping

Days 109-114, Takapō to Wānaka

Kia ora anō!

It’s certainly feeling like the seasons are changing down here in Otago. The air is brisk in Wānaka and I’ve been told the end of daylight saving is just around the corner. It’s funny to say in the same breath that I’m at once close to the end of this journey, and yet still have 411km to walk. That’s a long way, but it’s all relative I guess.

Still, I continue to meet walkers I’ve never heard of before and the scenery changes every day. As I explain, the length and extent of this walk is slowly getting to me, but I’m confident I’ll get over the 5/6th Hump that seems to be common among those of us who have been on the go for at least 100 days. You’ll be happy to hear that I’ve just made up an incredible scroggin mix — possibly the best yet. Bring on the Motatapu track!

Onwards with the chronicles…

DAY 109 - Takapō to Twizel (55km on bike)

I’d organised to pick my bike up at 10am, which gave me an easy start to the morning. The not-so-easy part was departing from my dying shoes which had served me well for the first 700km of the South Island. I hope my new ones serve me equally well.

The stretch between Takapō and Twizel is part of the reputed Alps 2 Ocean cycle trail, so many walkers opt to swap their legs for two wheels for this section. It felt good to be back on the saddle wearing hi viz, and my shoulders thanked me for a break from carrying my home on my back. Long-distance tramping really is like being a snail for a few months, isn’t it!

I got a glimpse of the housing developments while cycling out of Takapō. I got the impression that this place is in the middle of being built up large. The trail then ran adjacent to the canal, as milky blue as the lake itself. I passed about three salmon farms and cafes on my ride, with heaps of people with their rods waiting to catch the farm escapees. Poor fish.

It can get windy on this stretch, but as I pedalled along into Pukaki there was not a breeze in the air. The sections alternated between bone-juddering gravel and tarmac road, including a really fun downhill bit where I picked up a lot of speed which isn’t really possible while walking, unless you run of course.

On the Pukaki shorefront I met Rob, who chose to walk the 55km in one day. He was going strong as I passed him around midday - respect to him! Lunch was calling, so I pulled up at the visitor centre by the fourth salmon farm and whipped out my peanut butter wraps. I filled them with some cucumber and capsicum which I found in the free food box in Takapō YHA. Fresh vegetables are still a novelty at this stage.

The visitor centre was small but filled with the histories of Te Matahuna/Mackenzie Basin. The information was presented by Ngai Tahu and told of how the wahi ingoa/place names of the rohe/area were recorded, and of peaceful protests at Ōmārama about upholding the whenua that was taken from them by the Crown. Low cloud concealed Aoraki at the time I was there, so I just imagined the mountain’s magnificence in its place.

After a short ride through Pukaki Flats I emerged at the turn off to Twizel. I had a bit of time to spare before heading to my friend Charlotte’s place, where I’d be staying that evening. Charlotte has been working for DOC over the summer, and she lives literally across the road from the trail. We’d made the plan to meet before I started, so it felt unreal that it was actually happening. I continued on to the Big Smoke of Twizel to experience its offerings to South Canterbury.

To be fair, Twizel is bigger and more vibrant than I expected it to be. It has not one, but two Four Squares, a cool independent bookshop, and plenty of cafes. I visited two cafes, but it made me sad that I was the only patron in each.

As the afternoon wore on, I went to Charlotte’s place and hung out in the sun for a bit before she got home. It was great to see her when she did: slim the evening she showed me her favourite swimming hole, we made dhal (well I cut up some onions and Charlotte worked her magic on the rest), and I befriended her axelottles Pegasus and Blossom. They have got to be the quirkiest creatures out there.

Pegasus (L) and Blossom (R) smiling for the camera. Jokes, they are always smiling

DAY 110 - Twizel to Lake Ōhau (30km)

It was a scorching day as Charlotte and I headed off along the road, direction Lake Ōhau. Charlotte acted as my personal ecological guide, pointing out bird recovery centres and showing me birds and plants I wouldn’t have ever noticed myself. We saw crested grebes and Charlotte told me they carry their babies on their back. How sweet is that!

We stopped off at—you guessed it, a salmon farm—for coffee, but mainly just to use their bathroom. The day’s walking was flat and hot, along Ruataniwha, a human-made lake that’s somehow connected to Pukaki and maybe Ōhau. The hydro systems here are amazing but how they operate goes way beyond my head. We watched some rowers glide along the lake, wondering if they were racing or just training for something big. It was a tranquil day.

Rob and Kaz soon caught up to us after our chocolate break. At around midday, Charlotte said goodbye but would join me the next day for a more intrepid section of the trail involving a hill up above the bushfire once more.

Rob, Kaz and I got to lake Ōhau edge and found a tiny spot of shade under a matagouri tree to have lunch. A group of 20 cyclists passed us, heading in the direction of the Ōhau Lodge. My Aunty Chris had put me in touch with a couple loving on her friend’s house in Ōhau. I still hadn’t heard back from them about their address, as the patchy reception made it hard to get in contact.

As we walked we got a bit nostalgic about the early days of the trail, which do seem like a dream now. We also guessed what each other wears normally when we’re not in sweaty tramping clothes, a question which I commonly ask myself when meeting new TA walkers. Life on the trail is a bit of a microcosm. Three walkers cycled passed us. They were cycling all the way to Ōhau. I hadn’t seen one of them since Porirua so it was lovely to see her again!

I eventually arrived at the collection of houses in Lake Ōhau alpine village, and the others continued on to the lodge. Ōhau was affected by a huge fire last year, and it was sobering to see the fire damage around the place. I stopped off for a quick break on a tree stump, only to find that my shorts became saturated in tree sap. I was interested to note that almost all the cars that drive past were either convertibles or old school gas guzzlers. That says something about the main demographic around here.

As I still didn’t know the address of the friends I was staying with, I decided to walk around the block of houses until I got better reception. It only took me a few metres to the drive before I heard ‘Alex!’ Daiana, the woman I’d been in touch with, called out from the first house on the drive. I loved how easy it was to find. Maybe addresses aren’t really a thing around here!

Daiana and Joaquin welcomed me in. They’re an Argentinian couple who work at the lodge, and are living at my aunty’s friend’s home. It is a beautiful home, soaking in the evening sun. We ate dinner, and I caught up with Shannon about her plans to meet me down south in a few weeks’ time. That feels way too soon, but so exciting at the same time.

DAY 111 - Lake Ōhau to Avon Burn (32km)

I wanted to stay a few days longer here at this home, bed was so comfy. I’m not going to lie, I’m looking forward to having a couch to blob on to and watch films and tv shows after the trail. But back to the present moment!

I met Charlotte at the trail head in the morning. We took off and we’re soon joined by the walkers who had stayed at the lodge. I was so happy to be entering back into beautiful tawhai/beech forest that I almost didn’t notice the elevation we gained waking up to the bush line. It felt like I hadn’t seen a tree in a while (apart from matagouri of course, the wonderfully prickly native bush).

At the bush line there was a spot where a pipe spouted water. Some kind person had left a few glass mugs to drink from; it was a funny sight in an otherwise remote and natural environment, but welcomed all the same.

Charlotte shared more knowledge about a few more plant species including the dracophyllum which is one of her faves. We spotted some riflemen, too—tiny bird whose call sounds like zaps of electricity.

At the top of the climb, we ate lunch including a crisp apple Charlotte had brought up for me. It was delightful. We then parted ways, me going down into the Ahuriri river valley, and Charlotte back to the carpark. I enjoyed her company so much—it makes a huge difference walking and talking with people along the way.

The valley I descended into was beautiful. It was mostly easy walking but a few scree slopes kept things interesting. I passed a NOBO walker who told me the Ahuriri river was only knee-deep when he crossed this morning, which was a relief to hear.

As usual, the afternoon wind soon picked up. At first it was a tailwind pushing us along (very welcomed), but when we got out into the exposed field sidling a pine tree plantation, it pushed us to the side and made for some uncomfortable walking. It felt like I was breaking through the wind with my body, but with the help of a kiwi classics playlist I got down to the steep river bank where the mighty Ahuriri posed the challenge: cross here.

The current was made stronger by the wind, but it was still very crossable. The water only came up to my thigh; it would have been hard to cross if it was any higher or faster. Two of the guys I was walking with wanted to push on to the next hut which was 12km away. That was too ambitious for me so I stuck to plan A which was to camp in the conservation area. That was, unless the wind was horrible. I was not going to re-live the trauma of a few nights ago.

Lucky I found a lovely sheltered spot underneath some matagouri trees by the river. The cow pats around were dry which suggested I wouldn’t be sharing the field with cows that night (fingers crossed). I made dinner, looked up next section’s notes, then went to sleep.

Charlotte and the beautiful Ben Ōhau in the distance

DAY 112 - Avon Burn to Top Timaru Hut (21km)

I had a a surprisingly sound sleep, considering the cows were mooing all night in the distance. The sky was fizzing with red as the sun rose. It hadn’t started raining yet which made packing up my tent much easier. I set off with just enough natural light to not need my headlamp. Yesterday Leo reminded us that daylight saving is about to end, so it will be good to have a bit of extra light in the morning soon.

Being the maverick walker I am, I took the well-groomed 4WD track which ran parallel to the boggier official track. The dirt road joined up to the TA trail soon enough, gently climbing up and down. In the distance I could make out numerous black blobs — an extended family of cows. Lots of them. The matriarch soon alerted all the clans in the field that I was coming. They looked startled and there were lots of calves, so I decided to give them some space by taking a detour through the hills above where they were grazing. The detour included some matagouri-bashing and cliff-sidling, but I’d rather that than disturb their peace.

When I asked the other walkers how they found the cows, they casually told me they just walked through the herds, as if it was the breeziest thing ever. I wish I was that confident around cows. The climb to Martha Saddle began after the cow saga. The rain and wind was gradually getting heavier, but not enough to dampen my spirits just yet. The trail leading up there was an old 4WD track, and I spent all the time wondering why and how someone would build a road up to the saddle. Though the terrain was easy, my morale was wearing thin. It took an extra bit of positive self-talk to get up the steep terrain.

Thanks to Charlotte’s ecological wisdom from the days before, I paid attention to the tiny delicate alpine plants growing on the ground. The more I looked, the more species I noticed—the shapes, colours, and textures of each plant captured me in some way. I think we can all learn a lot about resilience from the things that thrive in high places. Martha’s saddle, at 1680m, is a narrow saddle overshadowed by the jagged rocks of Mt Martha herself. I didn’t spend as much time up there as I’d have liked because it was, quite honestly, miserably cold.

To keep warm, I ran-walked the steep path down to the valley floor. It was getting nippier as the wind settled in. I was already drenched and the thought of the hut only 7km away had a remarkable effect on my speed and motivation. The weather was erratic to say the least, but it made me appreciate the fact that I have had relatively few days like these on the trail.

Each twist in the valley brought new hope that the hut was just around the corner. A patch of beech trees suddenly appeared, and in the distance an object resembling a long drop. Not to brag, but I’m now pretty good at spotting long drops from afar. Breen and Leo had already boosted it to the hut and were cooking lunch as I arrived. We sat there looking smugly out at the rain pelting against the window, glad to not be tenting at this time.

I spent the rest of the afternoon lying, reading, eating, and listening to podcasts and hut banter. With my TA days numbered, I’m beginning to dream about my plans for relaxing in Southland after the trail. Bagels in Dunedin/Ōtepoti? Yes please! There’s lots of time to think on the trail…

DAY 113 - Top Timaru Hut to Pakituhi Hut (24km)

Over the last few days, I have been feeling a bit of trail fatigue. I can feel the 2650km weighing down my body and sometimes my morale. I think it’s only natural at this point to experience this, with how far I’ve come but with the end not quite tangible. Today, however, re-invigorated my spirits and reminded me about what Te Araroa is about: challenging terrain, conversations with new people, and walking within the most incredible landscapes. Just what I needed to get me going again.

It was raining as I left Top Timaru Hut at what felt like a leisurely time, just after 8am. My rain gear soon became redundant as the clouds made way to a crisp blue sky which would stay around for the whole day. There was talk in the hut about walking down the river instead of the marked track, which is what many walkers do if the flow is low enough. The marked route was supposedly steep and sketchy. At the junction, I spent about 10 minutes weighing up the pros and cons of each route. It went something like this:

Pros of river route: easier on my body

Cons of river route: having wetter-than-wet feet for most of the day, river energy is intense and drains me

Pros of marked route: love hills! Flat is boring. Inner mountain goat will be pleased.

Cons of marked route: potential for slipping down the slopes, my legs will be sore.

In the end I chose to please the climber in me, and headed up the first of many ups and downs sidling the river. The track dipped through the silty waters of Timaru River many times anyway, but largely stayed in some of the most beautiful beech forest I’ve been in on the trail so far.

I also decided to do something which I’ve rarely done on the trail, which is to set an intention for myself: today I would focus on having fun. In the spirit of this, I played my Dance Party playlist to take my mind off some of the harder climbs. As it was a little dangerous to dance along the slopes, I imagined some dance moves in my head. (Side note - my dance playlist is only 17 minutes long so if anyone has some dance-worthy songs, please let me know and I’ll add them and then think of you each time I hear them!)

I was having so much fun that I got to the junction departing the river in 1 hour than the trail notes said it would take the average TA walker. It’s a good thing I love climbing because what came next was a short and sweet scramble up to Stodys Hut, gaining 500 metres over just 2 kilometres. On the elevation profile it just looked like a straight vertical line. Fun! I got right into my element and boosted up the hill with the aid of a peanut butter shot and some positive thinking.

Stodys Hut, an old musterers hut, lies on the edge of the bush line. I met two NOBO walkers filling up their bottles at the Stream and having lunch. Their names were Lin (from Sweden) and Alex (from Italy) and they’ve been walking sections of the trail. It was lovely talking to them and exchanging notes about the next sections for both of us. The hut itself was largely in its original condition, decked out with dirt floors and minimal natural light. I’d originally planned on staying the night here, but there must have been something in the coffee I’d had that morning that made me want to keep going.

With the biggest of climbs behind me, I started along a gentler farm track climbing into Lake Hāwea Station. From here, the whole track rolled out ahead leading all the way up to Breast Hill. The occasional cloud passed over the sun which provided just enough cool from the afternoon heat. Being up here reminded me of the Skyline Track back home, only I was now 1000m more above sea level than Kaukau is. My favourite part about this section was the colours and textures of the hills to my right: a deep forest green, crinkled yet sharp in places. It gave me perspective on how high up I was. If those climbs were worth anything, it was this.

The biggest reward of the day’s climbing, though, unfolded as I arrived at the top of Breast Hill. The view was a panoramic feast of the snowy mountains of Aspiring National Park, wispy clouds whipping dramatically away from Mt Aspiring’s northern face. Lake Hāwea and neighbouring Wānaka stretched out in front. Behind me lay vast high country plains, and below (if I dared to look down) the jagged rocks jutted out above heart-stopping drops. A lonely kārearea landed on one of the rocks in front of me, my only company on the summit. I messaged a few friends and family to let them know I’d made it go this trail highlight, before the final descent down to Pakituhi Hut.

Just after the turn-off to the hut, I experienced a deep sense of accomplishment I hadn’t felt in a while. The challenge and variation of today, though physically demanding, made it one of the best days on the trail. A family of four, and a NOBO walker, welcomed me into the hut. With Leo and Breen joining later, it was a full house (and early night for us all) in the end. I’m really looking forward to a rest day in Wānaka; my body and soul are calling out for it.

DAY 114 - Pakituhi Hut to Wānaka (36km)

The thing with being on top of a mountain is that you have to somehow get down again. The morning began with an expected yet quad-crunching grind down to the shores of Lake Hāwea. I shared the path with some perplexed merino sheep who probably enjoyed watching my clumsiness down the sheer rock faces.

The sun hadn’t hit the side of the mountain as I descended, but the climb still made me hot and clammy. The track eventually turned into a more manageable switchback track. A group of hardcore, mostly older trampers, were coming up the hill on their way to Pakituhi Hut. We exchanged some obligatory comments about ‘feeling our knees’ and wished each other well. Going up to the top would be a fun scramble, I think.

Getting down to the flat road was a relief for my legs. I decided to break this long day into three sections, and I was 7km away from my first break. I bounced along the gravel path winding through Gladstone Reserve. This was my first time in Hāwea. I was liking the vibe I got, but I can see how this will soon (if not has already) become a sibling of the ever-expanding bourgeoisie capitals of Wānaka and Queenstown. I often think a town’s wealth can be defined by the breeds of the town’s canine inhabitants: the amount of cavaschnoodles and golden retrievers I passed along the water’s edge said it all.

The local cafe lured me in for a drink. As soon as I stepped into the place, my friend Sophie from Wellington surprised me by jumping in the line! She was on day 23 of riding down the country on Tour Aotearoa, the cycling equivalent of Te Araroa (both conveniently having the same initials TA). What were the chances! We caught up in the sun for a bit before she raced off with her crew.

The Hāwea river track was a delightful breeze, though hot and dry to walk on. I’d not expected the river to be so glisteningly blue, but just looking at made me want to drink it all up. There’s a point at which a standing wave has been artificially created by placing a concrete slab in the river, I presume to satisfy the ocean-deprived residents of central Otago. I sat and watched the surfers attempting to outlasting the waves as I ate my peanut butter wraps.

Getting to Albert Town was much of the same, but made more fun by calling my sister for a catch-up. The knowledge that Albert Town (another developing extension of Wānaka) had a Four Square helped me push on. I devoured a crunchy apple and cold drink on the side of the road, before continuing on the river walk.

The day was reaching peak heat by this point, and I’d been walking for a long time now on the straight and flat. The occasional cluster of mānuka provided shade, but I was a little uncertain about where my next water source would be. It’s cruel, walking along a body of water when you’re thirsty.

I finally reached the point at which the river opens out into lake Wānaka. To my left, Wānaka reasserted its wealth. The holiday homes, each with their own manicured lawn and tennis court, blow Auckland’s North Shore out of the water. To my right, the magnificent mountains sprawled around the lake’s edge. As early evening approached, so to did the township where a bed and dinner awaited me. My body was done by the time I arrived at the backpackers, but I still had just one more walk to do to get dinner. That squished the last bit of juice out of me, and I had a very good sleep that night.

I haven’t done this bit in a while!

Distance travelled: 2589km

Current mood: re-motivated

Currently reading: Born to Run by Christopher McDougall (not really enjoying it tbh, overrated)