I am writing this in the living room of the Platinum sponsors of the Many Steps for MS-TrampNZ, my long suffering friends Sue and Paul Roberts. After a much-needed break with my friend Adrian in Amberley, then a day in Hanmer Springs with Sue and Paul, I realised that perhaps I was more tired than I thought, but luckily as shown in the picture I have an ability to sleep anywhere, forged in my childhood of endless hours in a VW combi with my brothers and parents driving around Scotland and France.

​Well, Geronimo, a German TA tramper, decided to go off the TA route to stay at Hopeless Hut near to Mount Misery, to be far from the madding crowds. I was very tempted to join him: The Nelson Lakes section has highlighted a BIG issue on the Te Araroa, which is the sheer numbers of TA trampers staying in huts on popular tracks. Whilst I would say that all the Kiwi trampers I spoke with were unfailingly polite and well, Kiwi, they were clearly none too happy with the overcrowded huts.
 
I have met so many lovely people, from so many countries, whilst tramping the Te Araroa that I hesitate to mention that some of them don’t seem to be aware that just because you have a DOC hut pass does not mean you don’t still need to sweep out huts, replace firewood and generally respect the fact that other trampers will use the huts. They may express polite interest in your tales of long distance ‘hiking’, they may act bemused when you respond to questions whether people hike with mules in NZ (er, seen any mate?!!) but if you chat outside the hut with them, where they felt compelled to go for some peace and quiet then they may well ask detailed questions about the TA ROUTE so they can avoid it.
 
The tramp to the upper reaches of the Sabine valley and beyond is a walk through a mixture of enchanted lichen-dripping forests, thunderous rivers, stunning tarns and is quite simply the most wonderful and profoundly-enjoyable section that I have tramped so far. By the time I reached the hut the grin on my face was in danger of turning into a permanent rictus.
 
The Blue Lake Hut (located on the West Sabine River, just before the Waiau Pass) was a tad crowded, with a mixture of TA trampers and Sabine circuit people. The Waiau Pass trip started out early and in misty rain, so I didn’t really see much of the much-photographed clear multi-coloured  water in the oh-so-aptly named Blue Lake, nor of Lake Constance, to which you climb beside on the way up to the Pass.
 
I was lucky enough to be accompanied by an American TA ‘hiker’, even though I didn’t realize she was walking with me until I looked behind and there she was, my own noisy shadow. It is of course safer to walk together, especially in difficult sections but usually I’m aware that I’m walking with somebody.
 
When I reached the top of the Pass I was obviously super-thrilled to be sharing the moment with a very loud American woman, veteran of all THE long distance hikes overseas who hit my hand and shouted “O.M.G we are so amazing. High 5!!!” followed by much waving of poles in the air. Despite my frequent attempts to enjoy this enthralling setting by stopping to have a break, we arrived together at the river crossings. This was actually great as I thought we could cross together. But then again, after an initial attempt where she didn’t seem to grasp the concept of moving slowly-together, I felt it may be necessary to give up this ‘mutual-support’, as I wished to see the day out....Luckily for me, as soon as the scary sections were done, she took off, when I was stopping for lunch after 6 hours on the go, Apparently through-hikers just gulp a 1 square meal on the move....
 
I decided that I may need a break to meet some non-TA trampers, so I headed to Christopher Hut which I reached at 9pm. There I had a nice chat with some Kiwi trampers, who gave me some red velvet Tim Tams. A perfect end to a bloody-tough day. One which went all the way from elation, stomach-churning  fear, exhaustion…. and beyond. Yup, perhaps an average day tramping in NZ!
 
When I sign the hut books I always write “Many Steps for Multiple Sclerosis”  and I have been asked numerous times by people who have seen it about my tramp. I hope that I am in my own small way raising awareness of MS and the sterling  work of the fantastic people working for the society here in NZ.
 
Next up is a wee break for body and soul, then through from Lewis to Arthurs Passes followed by Lake Coleridge. ...
Ka Kite
Rach XX

For those that have been asking/needing an updated schedule, my best guess of where I may be when can be found via this (pdf) link....

Ka Kite,
Rache X

After my unscheduled stop in Nelson I left for the Richmond Alpine Track on a scorcher of a day from the Hackett picnic area: A beautiful place, despite the Mongrel Mob crew who were jumping off the bridge into WATER trying to take selfies. “Bro my phone’s not working, what’s up with that?” Ermmm....

Richard started off at a cracking pace on his fresh legs, whilst I tried to keep up with my creaking body...We arrived at the hut to be greeted by a group of French guys who were smoking roll-ups and moaning about the price of tobacco in NZ. For reasons best known to them they had cranked up a fire, despite the 27 degree weather, so we elected to pitch our tents. It was then that I noticed that the French crew had a stove that, instead of a gas canister, needed lots of twigs to heat anything: A  really lovely contrast to all the many jet boil stoves that most TA trampers use to heat water for their Backcountry meal pouches.

As seems to happen all the time on this trip, I met Stefan again on the track and  was excited to see him. This was not only because he’s great company, when he sticks around - but also because he and Richard could zoom off at warp speed whilst I ambled on, listening for birds and looking at the views. Unlike the guys, I’m not training for an adventure race or wanting to join the Australian Police special ops team.

We had a verrrrrryyyy long day on the Alpine crossing route and after speaking to 3 other trampers who had decided to turn back because of mist, we headed on, screwing our courage to the sticking place (apologies to Macbeth fans, but I love the visceral image this quote conquers up).

We were very lucky when we finally hit the top of Rintoul. The views reminded me of my brother Martin’s model war game set-up. That utilized cotton wool, paper mache and all the many hues of Airfix paint from tiny pots to create a realistic topography, complete with tiny figures and random features. It felt as if the ranges of mountain went on forever with so many different colour hues, rocks carelessly strewn around. The real version however also had the addition of a backlog of weather systems queuing up for prime position.

I’m still attempting to get some pictures from the Go Pro and hopefully will be able to post them in here soon but meanwhile have posted some from my phone, The small orange toilet below has the best view from a dunny anywhere in the world I reckon. Mind you Richard was a tad shocked when getting water, to see an arc of French piss heading his way, so maybe not everyone appreciates a good toilet view....

​I am writing this on a lovely sunny deck in Nelson, whereas I should be tramping towards the Richmond Ranges. Are you sitting comfortably? Then let the story begin....

I started the mainland on the Queen Charlotte Track which was rather a shock due to the hordes of people, especially hung over Scottish backpackers.  All I will say is that I am now an expert at putting up $20 tents from the Warehouse, which did not look so flash in the morning after the overnight torrential downpour.

I spent a lovely break on my friends boat in Havelock where I managed to get more injuries than whilst tramping whilst tripping onto the boat, dropping my shoes into the water and banging my toe then spending a fruitless time trying to locate a missing sock. Luckily this was not my new smart wool socks generously given to me by my friend Emma along with a complete black bamboo ninja outfit. Top tip: best not to walk through a busy camp ground and Marina whilst wearing the said outfit that makes me look like a stick of liquorice.

Many, many thanks to my friend Mads who has given me an uber light down jacket to replace the one lost down a gully and to her extremely generous contribution to the Many Steps for MS budget. To Paul, Sue, Emma and Matt many many thanks for the lovely meals I am a new woman and the bangers and mash will remain writ large in my memory especially when I'm fighting Richard for a spare peanut in the ranges.

The Pelorus Track, apart from a horror section from Havelock (thanks for the company Ems I hope the extreme sunburn/blisters and bad back have cleared up!) follows the river in a string of superlatives. The greener than green water seems to invite you in and then says ha ha tricked you as you jump into the freezing depths with a squadron of sand flies for company.

I walked into the Rocks hut after a night of very heavy rain and was met with a hut full of TA trampers who had created an aroma that makes the term fetid seem like a breath of fresh air...

I spoke with three women of my age (after they had crawled out of their respective pits at 10am) and found out that one of them had a serious knee 'injury'. They did not have any painkillers so I gave her some from my mobile pharmacy.For reasons best known to themselves and possibly a psychiatrist, they had walked from the previous hut despite the woman being unable to bend the knee and being in considerable pain. I remember reading their comment in the hut book wondering why they had not just walked back out to the road at the start of the track. They had all started the TA on the QC track and had not the North Island or indeed, it transpired, any training or planning. Thus, although they had told a friend when they were due out they had not realised that the friend would more than likely contact the Police/DOC if they were late.The final piece of information that made my head swivel, Damon like, was that the 'injury' was in fact arthritis and obviously pre-existing. Even scarier than this revelation was that the two 'fit' women were going to carry on bravely with the TA Trail after they had made it out  of one of the most benign tracks on the whole of the TA with their injured mate.


As there were several young TA walkers in the hut I suggested that, given their were no river crossings, that they tramp out to tell the women's friend that they were going to be very late as they were already more than a day over due. As there were no takers for the attractive prospect of a 5 hour tramp in the pissing rain and gales I decided to take my chances outside rather than in the toxic hut. Also, due to the level of stupidity I had experienced I was liable to break my brand new year resolution of trying, oh trying oh so very hard not to be judgemental....

After a lovely walk to the top of Dun Mountain in the mist I made the descent to Matai Valley dam, pausing only briefly to talk to a French guy wearing only budgie smugglers and his raincoat looking for a cave...

The sun arrived, hurrah, and with it a lift into Nelson where I phoned the contact person and left it up to them to sort out their friends total stupidity, incompetence and selfishness. Mmmm, I feel I may have broken that resolution already...I am enjoying an unexpected break with Carol who is Richard's sister and he will join me for the Richmond Alpine Track, and then through to Lewis Pass so this will be the last post for a wee while.

Ka Kite

​Rache