Good judgement, if I have to...

Discretion is often the better part of valor (see Jan 26), but sometimes those decisions are just endlessly frustrating to make. 

After a spectacular 27km walk yesterday, I was really looking forward to the most scenic portion of the Queen Charlotte Track - a section that spends most of its time on a ridge, but has a fair number of ups and downs. Unfortunately, while I'm still practically a goat on the uphill and flat sections, I'm slower than a snail on downhills and quite poorly balanced as well. With heavy rain most of the day yesterday (and a full gale last night), I just couldn't trust the clay and rock on the trail to dry out quickly, even with the great  weather we're having today. There's even an alternate road route, but I don't know how hilly or heavily trafficked it is. 

Thus, the boat. The you-should-have-used-the-other-company-because-they-offer-free-transfers boat. Oh well. Hope there's a nice beach/jetty at the next spot!

Zero in Lake Tekapo - halfway there!

Just a few thoughts:

1) Hot springs are a lovely, lovely way to relax hiker legs 

2) Ice cream is a necessity, not a luxury. 

3) Twizel would be better for a zero day than Lake Tekapo. Lake Pukaki's shores are better than either, though light on amenities. 

4) Nothing says love like home made brownies. Also, see #2. 

Mt Cook & the barren flats

This morning was so great!  We woke up to clear blue skies and a mirror-still Lake Pukaki. I was glancing out of my terribly-pitched tent just waiting for the peaks to start coloring, and as soon as they did, I was up with oatmeal in hand. 

After packing up, Rose and I set out for the third day of road walking. This time, we were largely adjacent to farm land, and we got several hours walking straight at Mt. Cook ( which was marvelously clear and quite majestic looking).  A bit before Braemer Rd, we separated, but this may have been for the best. 

The five hour walk on Braemer Rd was hot, dry, exposed, scrubby, and altogether unpleasant. Water sources were few and far between - most of the marked creeks were dry and many were either fenced off or chock full of cow pies. And the sun and wind were relentless. I just kept my hat pulled down and did my best to plow ahead. 

After that 20+ km of a forced march, hitching the last 3km of highway was an easy choice. I'm just glad that one place in town could accommodate me. 

Twizel to Lake Pukaki

Into Twizel (& some great trail angels)

Up and over to the Holiday Park

Across the Ahuri River

Stodys to Top Timaru

Pakatuhi to Stodys Hut

An accidentally large day

I'm starting to think that I'm just an idiot after taking a zero.  Today, I was hoping to get to the "reserve" just past Lake Hawea, so I headed out sort of early into an ominous-looking day.  I continued around Lake Wanaka on the bike path into a fierce wind.  There were plenty of locals out for their morning exercise.

By the time I got to the outlet track that followed the Clutha River out of the lake (river named after the Cluite or Clyde River in Scotland), the wind had settled a bit.  The Clutha was almost a jade color, and it was flowing quickly.  Apparently, it's one of the fastest-flowing shipping rivers in the world.  (Should have brought my innertube!)  The Clutha also had a fair number of those alpine shrubs with tiny white flowers and plenty of butterfly bush.  After 1-2 hours on the pleasant path beside the river, I turned to walk up the slightly more blue Hawea River.  There were some pretty exposed and dry areas that got pretty hot, and there were also some nifty SoCal-style desert mountains off in the distance.  There was also a busy gun club.  Nothing like continuous banging to help you relax.  Though the Hawea River trail was far less scenic, I did get to check out a 2-feature whitewater park.

Two thirds of the way along the Hawea River path, the rain finally began.  It continued as I walked along the banks of glacier-fed Lake Hawea.  As you would expect, the water was a lovely bright teal.  I ran into four SOBOs, two of whom, unfortunately, reassured me that I could camp before the 1000m climb at the end of the bike path.

When I reached the "reserve" around 2:30, I was much chagrined to find a sign clearly stating that camping was banned in the area.  I made the possibly dangerous and probably foolish decision to climb the 5k up to Pakituhi hut rather than backtracking 8k to Hawea's holiday park.  The first kilometer was on the road, leaving 4km to climb 1000m.  Thankfully, the trail was well worn, clearly marked, and generally obvious.  With the fog and steady drizzle, typical TA track would have been much more challenging.

Though I caught a glimpse of the lake and some ridges earlier, the clouds were steadily filling the valley and shrouding the mountains.  The trail zig zagged up 450m through woody ferns to a sort of saddle, and by the time that I hit the rock and tussock filled ridge that climbed the remainder of the way, the clouds had completely concealed the lake and were starting to drift up my ridge.  Soon enough, puffs of mist covered everything outside of a 150ft radius.  I startled a few sheep on the rocky scramble up and waded through an incredible amount of pebbly dung.

The lookouts probably would be stunning on a clear day, but I was grateful for the cool weather as I climbed.  I was even more thrilled to hit the hut at 6, 1-2 hours faster than the DOC signs predicted.  I'm weary tonight, but excited to be locked in to a short day along the ridge of Breast Hill tomorrow.

Out to Wanaka (+ the busiest zero ever)

Pretty smooth sailing today. There was rain in the forecast, so I hit the trail pretty early.  After a dip down to the river, the trail climbed up 100-300 feet along the side of the hill and cruised through some brush downstream.  The hills were largely obscured by clouds (particularly the tops and the mountains lurking behind the hills), but no rain fell.

Soon enough, the trail descended to the roots and woods of a conservation area.  I wandered along the cascading creek until the trail crossed on to a farm.  Beyond the conservation area, the stream settled into more of a slow, calm brook.  A bit of road walking took me down to Glendu Bay on Lake Wanaka.  Once I was past the holiday park, I got on a quite pleasant bike path.  There were pebbled beaches, manuka trees, and large sections of restored native flora.  The hills and beaches along the path were, as is typical, spectacular.  I would love to take Ali picnicking here.  The day heated up, though the clouds didn't leave the peaks, and I ran pretty low on water.  (If the clouds had lifted, there would have been some incredible glaciated peaks to stare at.)

The gravel was getting to my feet by the end of the day, but tomorrow's a zero!!


** Okay, so today is a zero, and Wanaka is an awesome little town.  I spent most of the day breaking my bounce box and some new groceries into resupply boxes.  Though my Swiss Army trekking poles have held up admirably, one of the carbide tips has come off and there aren't replacements that fit.  I'm also hoping to lighten up a wee bit, so I'm switching to some carbon fiber poles. (Costco rather than Walmart, I kid you not.  I'm not sure why anybody buys the legit branded trekking poles that cost hundreds of dollars when $40 will get you just as good of a pair.)  Food packaging has been vastly improved by a Canadian stonemason.  Gotta love those Ottowans who know how to prep food for canoe camping!

Roses to Fern Burn Hut

I am plum tuckered!  Three big climbs today, and at least two of them were >500m.  And, of course, we descended fully between each one.  And also, of course, TA climbs tend to be steep.  There's hardly ever any of this zig-zagging your way up something.  (When the DOC benches in hairpin curves, you know you're practically clinging to the side of a cliff.)

I got an early start from Roses Hut, and the day was reasonably cool.  While I'm in the very dry Marlborough region, the mornings may be cool, but both I and my skin tend to roast in the afternoon.  The heat didn't hit today until about one, when I hit Highland Creek Hut for lunch.

The first pair of climbs this morning were along Knuckle Peak's ridges.  The trail (and two of the huts) here exist complements of Shania Twain and her producer/husband.  She bought two sheep farms around 2006 or so, and when they heard that the DOC was trying to weasel in some conditions for public access, they not only gave their blessing for trail development, they also donated the funds to build the huts.

The trail here isn't as bad as advertised in the trail notes.  There were only a handful of short sections that were crumbly and narrow.  This is a good thing, since the trail's often wedged along some bloody steep pitches.  On a few of the morning segments, I couldn't rest my entire foot on the trail without straining a calf.  That being said, at least there is worn tread to follow here.

The morning was certainly taxing, but the scenery wasn't great.  Though I felt ok to continue this afternoon, the knife's edge ridge up to the saddle between Highland Creek and Fern Burn was incredibly tough and a little nerve wracking.  Crumbled scree cliff came right up to the (thankfully) banked trail.  While the morning climbs made me pause to catch my breath a few times, this pitch made me want to sprawl out and invite the vultures to dinner.  The sharp, slate-gray path was barely wide enough to hold my seated self and my pack at the same time, though.  Sprawling would have been tough.

The descent to Fern Burn was long and smooth, but it still took my tired feet, knees, and ankles a while to get down.

Duck ramen got a ton of extra salt and olive oil tonight.  I'll be ready for that next zero coming up.

Macetown to Rose's Hut

Ah, the days you're journaling by 2:30!

I took an easy-ish 10/11k day over from Macetown today.  The trail started off following/fording the way up the Arrow River.  There weren't any places where you had to be more than mid-calf in the water, but there sure were some might fine swimming holes!  If only I had done this section in the warmer afternoon.  None the less, I spent a lot of time slogging along in the river.  Most of the time, it was easier than criss crossing from bank to bank trying to avoid the spiny bushes.

I took my one and only dip right before the trail headed up to 1270m(?) Roses Saddle.  After leaving the lupine (and the very numerous thorny bushes) by the river, the trail went along a few ridges, climbing steadily and steeply up to one side of the saddle.  The low tussock and dusty rock make this area look nearly lunar.  Tons of lizards and butterflies, though not any of the irridescent violet butterflies I saw a few days back.

The trail zig zagged right back down the side of one ridge and the length of some others to get back to another creek and Rose's Hut.  I was considering heading to Highland Creek Hut tonight, but with a late-ish start (8:30) and a really hot day, I decided to save those two big climbs for tomorrow morning.  Hopefully, I'll manage to make it to Fern Burn tomorrow!  For now, creek laundry & leisure at a new (as of 2006) hut.

** Right around dinner time, a triple-crowner named Cloudwalker came into Roses' with his flapping-soled tennis shoes and long pony-tail braids.  He pulled out his milk and granola and started adding in anything he found in his pack.  The dried bananas, honey, and raisins, I understood, the other miscellany (dried veggies, TVP), I'll mark down to walking way too far in one day.   Cloudwalker had started my 4-day segment this morning, and he politely probed to see if he could make Queenstown that evening.  I (and everybody else who met him on the TA) think he's crazy.  I'm also sure he made it into town.  He claims that the TA has better scenery than either the AT, PCT, or CDT, but that as a whole package (trail conditions, scenery, resupplies, etc), the PCT wins handily.  He was trying to finish the TA quickly so that he could wrap up another long trail in Israel before he had to find a job again.  As the Kiwi's say, good on 'im.

Queenstown to Macetown

Today was certainly another doozie.  I woke up on the wrong-ish side of the bed - sleepy, too little breakfast, and a little bit homesick after getting a care package from Ali.  The track from Queenstown to Arrowtown was rubbish, too.  Bike paths, incorrect TA signage that sent me along winding county road detours, suburbs, and hot/dry conditions.  The views were largely of houses in the 'burbs, and to top it off, we had to hike through some ritzy golf course/resort/country club/spa complex.  Stupid golf courses in arid places!

Anyhow, sick of the crowded paths and partying Queenstowners, I got into pretty touristy Arrowtown around 1:30.  Rather than pay $40 for a tent site, I decided to hoof it up the appropriately-named Big Hill Track to Macetown.  (In retrospect, I think that I might have liked to look around the preserved Arrowtown and read all the informative plaques.  There's some nifty history here; I just didn't want to have to put up with asinine tourists making fun of my backpacking gear to learn about it.)  Tacking on the Big Hill segment put me at 41km for the day.  Shew!

Big Hill was a beautiful hike.  Though it starts off brutally in SoCal-style dessert scrub, the track soon started winding in and out of the woods (complete with shade!) on the way up to the Big Hill Saddle. The track clung pretty tightly to the hillside; there was just enough ground on the edge of the track for a hand's span of flowers to pop up.  At the very top, I met Jonathan and Rebecca, some South Island NOBOs who have just started the trail.  They're great folks, and I'd love having them as hiking company.  On the far side, the trail steadily descended the dusty brown hill, twisting through slippery low tussock until hitting some lupine-covered creeks.  The banks were completely carpeted in flowers - lupine, daisies, wild roses, peas, queen anne's lace, & small pink and yellow buds, and the cold water was delicious.

Once reaching the streams, we followed their winding route on and off a 4WD track into the old gold mining ghost town of Macetown.  The trail and wildflowers this afternoon more than made up for my morning grumpies.  Oh, to be away from civilization again!

Greenstone to Queenstown - practically a zero

Well, after the wee culture shock of an overflowing 20 person hut last night, I awoke to a thundering herd of early birds. I let the 5:00 risers clear the kitchen before heading out to grab my third of a chocolate bar for breakfast. (I've got more food; I just didn't need it for the day.)

Today's hike was incredibly similar to a million Smokies trails - winding along the side of a hill by a nice little river, sun filtering thru the trees overhead, crossing a bunch of feeder creeks cascading toward the river. Since the TA feeds out at a popular trail hub here, the path was well worn, too. I leisurely passed all of the early folk on the trail, and got a bit of a swim/wash in the crystalline Caples River before exiting to the trailhead. (The deep blue/green swimming holes in the Greenstone would have been ideal, but swimming before 10 can be a bit too chilly.)  I finished before 10:30, hitched a lift by 11:30, and was in town by 1:00. 

Queenstown is a pretty lively little place. Chock full of adventure tourists who are off to bungee jump or skydive. I keep mistaking all of the different i signs for official i-sites, but even so, I managed to find a hostel for the evening. After a shower, burger, and gelato, I'm feeling a bit more human, but I'm antsy to get back on the trail. The past few days have been unbelievably beautiful. I can't wait to see what's up next!

Boundary Hut to Greenstone Hut

Holy moley, Greenstone hut is a shock to the system.  This thing has 20, 40, 80,000 bunks.  There are two sleeping rooms, a living area, a kitchen, two full industrial sinks, a wrap around porch, detached bathrooms with real plumbing, a tool hut, a separate warden hut, and an associated friggin campground.  It's hostel-packed, too.

 I just spent the day hiking through some gorgeous valleys.  Rugged peaks, serpentine rivers, and a lot of sun exposure.  (Thank you hat!)  There were crystal clear creeks with world-class swimmin' holes and an abundance of little lizards.  The trail was 90% (poled) open ground, with rocky footing and low scrub and tussock.  The trail was reasonably clear, if faint at times.  The weather's been windy all day, and though there were some battling rain clouds this morning, only a few drops were blown off the face of the mountain towards me.  All of the moisture cleared up by noon.

I met one SOBO on the trail who warned me about the climb from Lake Hawea and the Top Timaru track.  He said the rest of the South Island should be smooth sailing.

So now I'm here at Greenstone with 70 asian folks (eating MREs), 30 newbie kiwi backpackers (eating ramen) and the drone of tourist planes.  While I'm glad the newbies are out enjoying the trails around here, it's really, really funny to hear them complained about what (as compared to TA track) is perfectly groomed and maintained trail.  It's weird to not be the only person in the hut tonight, but I do like the feel of the sun on my legs while I lay out on that wraparound porch!  At least the hitch tomorrow should be easy enough.

Mavora Lakes to Boundary Hut

No swimming out of my tent this morning, though within a km or two I made it to a pristine spot right at the south end of South Mavora Lake.  Ah, well.  Rest and food in a mossy sandfly divot is better than collapsing from fatigue on the trail.

Today, I made it another 23km/8hrs up the Mavora lakes and rivers to Boundary Hut.  Every hut I've stayed in has a slightly different layout, and this one has an indoor tap!

The walk today was my favorite yet, though the weather was overcast and most of it was on a foot-bruising 4WD (large gravel/torn up) path.  I stayed mostly in the woods along South Mavora Lake.  The views I did glimpse were of incredible, rugged mountains guarding the sides and head of the valley I traveled through.  There were plenty of singing water fowl - including Canadian geese, of all things.  There were also two folks in sea kayaks out on the lakes.  I think we each gave each quite a surprise since it seemed like such a quite morning in such a remote spot.

After the deceivingly small southern lake, I crossed a very sturdy suspension footbridge over to the incredibly popular Mavora campground.  Ok, so maybe this wasn't such a remote spot.  However, as soon as I got a few km north of the campground, hiker population dropped to just me, again.  North Mavora lake is stunning.  I know I've said that a lot so far, but this is prettier than Milford Sound and more aesthetically pleasing than anything I've seen so far.  It's also incredibly serene.  I'm just starting to relax into this hike, and this is the most peaceful I've felt in a very, very long time.  My body and mind are adjusting to the rhythms of waking up each day to mind-blowing splendor, and this kind of scenery makes it so easy and appealing to mimic the deep wells of strength, beauty, and peace by which I am surrounded.  Sounds cheesy, but it is what it is.

I followed the 4WD track for 10k along the lakeshore while the blustery winds drove some clouds in from the west, and then, both I and the track turned into yet another stunning valley for the last 6k.  With the wind at my back, I wandered along the foot of a ridge, well above the very serpentine river that carved out this particular valley.  Though rain threatened, it rarely fell.  The rays of sunlight that occasionally escaped the racing clouds did provide quite the dramatic lighting.

Mossburn Highway to the Mouth of the Mavora River

Whoo boy, today was a doozie.  After a trip to the ranger station for a hut pass and a 1.5 hr wait for a hitch, I set off along the Mavora Lakes Road for what was supposed to be 11km of road walking.  Thanks to one short hitch from a chatty farmer (i.e. maybe 100m) and one more hitch from a hiker on his day off (to get me back to the trail after I walked past it), I finally reached the Mavora River.

Following another farmer's instructions, I ended up crawling 5-10m through bush lawyer and devil's tongue to reach the river and my orange TA poles again.  (These farmers are nicer than I expect.  I usually expect shouting/shooing rather than trail-finding advise when I'm standing lost in the middle of a patch of dirt when the farmer comes to plow.  It's not their fault that they don't think the orange marker poles just across their boundary fences mark a footpath.  They can look as well as the next person and tell you there's no worn tread there.)

The river "path" was reasonable, though.  It went through reasonably low (knee-high) grasses with only occasional prickly bushes and thistle barring your way.  There were tons of yellow-flowering shrubs, and lupine dotted the banks of the Mavora.  As long as I kept to the poles, there was even a beaten footpath that showed up from time to time.  If you went away from the poles in hopes of following the river rather than winding back and forth between river and farm fence, you ended up in hip-deep bog.  (Ask me how I know.)

After 2-3hrs of moderate progress along the banks, the trail forded the lower calf-deep river (full of algae-like gunk and didymo) and headed to a super-fast path through the woods.  Older, well-spaced trees + drought = zooming trampers.  There weren't even a ton of roots to keep me from a 4km/hr rate!  There was some nifty rotting wood along the path - it didn't have signs of lichenous/mossy fuzz, but it was turning a nice teal/turquoise color as it decomposed.

Unfortunately, the terrain was so nice that I passed 5 quality camping spots and ended up on a bluff above the river (and away from a water source) before I got tired.  After another hour of hiking, I've made it to a little divot in the land near the mouth of the Mavora.  I've covered 30+km today (and that doesn't include the piecemeal hitches, since I wasn't walking then).  I'm glad that I covered good ground today, there's some nasty weather hitting the fiordlands, and who knows how far inland it will come.  I'm just hoping there won't be rain tonight, as my tent site is a prime pond spot.

Zero Day!

Oof, what an incredible week!  Well, after three days of beach and four days of woods and farms, I've hitched a long ways into Te Anau, tourism capital of the fiordlands. The town is pretty decent, especially considering that it's at 600% of its off-season capacity. Lots of cafes and outdoors stores, and a handful of very patient locals.

I took a bus/boat combo in to see Milford Sound, which is a quite spectacular fiord. I'd love to grab a sea kayak and paddle around some of the other areas in the 3 million acre national park. The 4000 ft peaks here plunge straight into 180 ft deep water. The mountain faces are so rocky and steep that they're subject to the occasional "tree avalanche."  Under windy or rainy conditions, a trees roots will give way, and its fall will wipe out everything below it - like a mudslide without mud. 

All in all, the Te Araroa's been reasonably kind so far. The long days on the beach toughened up my feet first thing, and the terrain's steadily increased in difficulty. I've only had one difficult spot as far as navigation goes; shoulder high tussock doesn't mix well with stomach high trail markers. (Or, for that matter, with finding good footing.)  One of my knees seems to be balking at tough inclines and declines; hopefully, it'll get the hang of things soon. Regardless, I'm planning to split up hikes longer than 25km for at least the next 7-10 days. I really, really enjoyed the days that I could finish early and have some down time in camp. That may have to change eventually, but I don't mind having more R&R for now. 

Aparima to Te Anau

Alright, so today was tough. The terrain was ok, the weather was pleasant, and there weren't any major elevation changes. But I am developing a strong aversion to tussock. Specifically, neck-high, packed, stupid-tufts-of-grass-that-obscure-everything tussock.

In addition to the full body workout that dragging your body and pack through thick mats of grass requires, navigating through tussock also requires laser vision, which I currently lack. There are branches, brambles, ankle-wide/calf-deep seeps, knee/hip-deep troughs, and, of course, ankle-twisting tussock bases that all litter the spongy ground on which you must walk. And you can't see any of that because you're in a field of tussock.

Needless to say, though the terrain was a mix of the typical TA woods and bad tussock, travel was slow today. I twisted a knee about 3 hours in (in tussock), pulled a quad while being chased by a nesting pair of raptors (through tussock), and proceeded to scrape the inside of my elbow pretty well on a marker sign (which I couldn't see due to - surprise - tussock).

The vistas were lovely today, though. And the second half of the walk mainly stuck to the woods. Granted, TA-style woods are still rough with two sore legs, but at least they weren't tussock!

I hobbled out through the woods about 4hrs after I thought I would, but managed to get 6km down the farm road to a highway in one piece. The flat ground even helped me recover a bit!  Now, I just need the zero day to take care of the rest. 

Lower Wairaki to Aparima Hut

Another short one today!  Jaunted through the woods to Aparima Hut.  It was 17/16.5/13.5km, depending on which sign or notation that you trust, and thought the trail notes said navigation would be tricky, the trail was clear and well marked.

The rolling terrain was largely split into open mossy forest or open-ish bracken woods.  The weather was poor - cold and wet with mostly just a light, steady mist and a bit of a breeze.  With the help of the weather, the ferns and grasses kept me soaked from the knee down, while everything covered by my rain shell and skirt barely got damp.  I kept my gloves and my fleece beanie on nearly all day.

I must have seen well over 100 different types of moss today, and it honestly wouldn't surprise me if that guess is an order of magnitude too low.  There was stuff that looked like tiny ferns and tufted evergreens and other stringy mosses hanging from the birches.  The mosses were a gazillion different hues, but my favorite was a pale green-white moss that hinted of edelweiss.  I didn't stop for anything more than a few sips of water and two nut bars all day, and so I made it to the hut (complete with pot-bellied stove!) for a late lunch of melty cheese quesadilla around 3ish.  The fire's warming everything up now, but this hut is big and new and drafty.  Thank heavens for whoever filled the wood pile so well!

Oh, and while they weren't yesterday's Telford Tops daisies or the little shrubs with tiny white flowers, today's prairie did have some evergreen-looking shrubs/trees that adorned themselves with a rather attractive small, white flower.  Up close these guys have tiny round leaves that rotate around projecting stems, and they (or something that tends to share similar habitat) every now and then smeel just faintly of allspice.  They almost look like self-decorating Christmas trees.  (I've since learned that those trees are Manuka trees, and those small flowers produce a pretty tasty honey.)

Telford Burn to Lower Wairaki Hut

Telford campsite was just magnificent last night!  I got a wash & soak in the creek, washed all of my clothes, and got a spectacular view up the valley out of my tent.  Sandflies came up in the evening, thick enough to act like curtains for my tent, and mist slowly envelopped the hills.  I did catch some nice stars in the middle of the night.  (This is the first night I haven't been bone-tired enough to sleep like the dead through the entire night.)

Today was another short day over to Lower Wairaki Hut.  As per the DOC, it's 9km and was expected to take 5hrs.  For those of you unfamiliar with the DOC measurements, they're designed for fit mountain goats.  If you are neither fit nor a mountain goat and the DOC tells you that it will take one hour to travel about one mile, you are in for some pretty intense terrain.  The trail started with a brutal climb straight up a hillside.  And I do mean straight up.  The kind of straight up where you use your hands to grab the tufts of grass hanging out right beside your face, so that you can scoot your foot up another step.  The climb was mostly through scrub and tussock, but there were some small and tricky sections on scree.  After of two hours of climbing, I was on to a long and steady descent through the woods.  I'm glad that I went NOBO here - descending that climb would have been terrible!

I was considering continuing on to Aparima hut since the weather was so perfect and warm today.  Trail sign at Lower Wairaki shows 16km rather than the 13km in the notes, though.  I'll take another ~6 hour day tomorrow and a long steady march out to Te Anau the next day.  The hut here is lovely and reassuring.  Where Martin's was damp and cramped, Lower Wairaki is dry and open.  The fact that it's in the open and not in a muddy wood probably helps.  My feet didn't love the downhill or the mid-afternoon burst of speed, but my feet and knees are both noticeably starting to strengthen.  (The rest helps!!!)

There were some neat mushrooms along the trail today - small, near-sperical yellow balls.  When they grow big enough, it looks like the stalk gives up and the top goes rolling off, dispersing seed.  There were also lots of meadow flowers on the way up - daises and some small yellow flowers by the ton.  Hopefully, I'll get some more practice climbs like today before I reach the really meaty mountains further on!

The Cheater's Route to Telford Burn Campsite

Whoo, I sure did cheat the trail today.  No ride back to where I hitched in from yesterday was apparent, so I attempted to get over toward Ohai.  It took forever.  (How did I manage to plan this hike so that I'd need a hitch bright and early on day one of the new year?)

In a miraculous occurrence, the guy who picked me up after 4 hours of trying to hitch (a ~10k? distance) works on Litton Station, the sheep farm that I'd be crossing on the TA.  This guy is a tramper himself, just back from hiking around in the Fiordlands, and cut out a significant amount of my gravel farm road walk.  I'm a bit sad to have skipped the Otautau to Ohai portion, but the logistics were daunting and maybe I'll be able to give some of my aches and pains a bit more rest and attention for the next couple of days.  So far, I feel pretty vindicated in my cheating.

So, Litton Station is the biggest sheep farm in all of New Zealand, and it is gorgeous.  Drop-dead, I-could-live-here-forever, why-am-I-not-a-sheep-in-New-Zealand, maybe-I-could-go-into-farming gorgeous.  Seriously, if I thought I would have any chance of being hired on at this farm, I would discard that shiny new genetics Ph.D. in a second and start working on my, I dunno, shearing skills or something.  This farm has some really steep foothills with crystal clear streams and incredible vistas through a multitude of narrow valleys.

I took a short walk up a hill, across some sheep paddocks, and through an area with a bunch of cattle who were not so used to humans.  I've made it just to the start of conservation land, and have set up at Telford Burn Campsite.  This is the prettiest spot I've ever camped, and thanks to my laziness and my odd turn of luck, I've been able to wash, read, and relax while the sun's still up.  It's still toasty out, and I think this is the first day that I haven't been on the trail for 10-12 hours.  Lordy lou, this is a beautiful spot.