Farewell, adieu,ka kite ano, goodbye North Island, it's been the best of times and the worst of times and it's a far, far better place I go to now (apologies to Charles Dickens).

After the final stretch via scenic Poirua and a failed attempt by a group of weary, chocolate starved ta trampers to get free samples from the Whitakers factory I made it to sunny Wellington (yes, really). I spent Christmas eve and morning with my old mate Andrea and her family then met up with some TA mates to eat prawns, drink beer and go wharf jumping (it's officially my new favorite sport).

Resisting the temptation to do a papal kiss of the South Island at Picton I made do with a coat hanger smile when I saw the Marlborough sounds.  I am having a wee break before I start the Queen Charlotte Track (main danger: too many tourists on the track). 

In light of the fact that it's a new year very soon here are the things that I lost and gained from this year in the North Island:

Lost

My anger at Gerry Brownlee, all the National government and EQC, Fletchers EQR and various cowboy builders.

My lovely super lightweight down jacket down a gully in the Tararuas

Gained

A new sense of perspective on pretty much everything and hence my mojo

Te Araroa SOBO mates  (through trampers, south bound)


I picked up some mail in Wellington and read the messages from my friends that they gave me before I left as I knew that I would need them about now.

Highlights:

Don't come home until you've finished (Sue), relentless forward progress (Paul) and press on with your day but not always (Mads).

So, I can't expect anyone who may want to help me on this trip to have psychic powers so here is a few things that I am fairly desperately in need of for my South Island section.

Any kind of lightweight down or other jacket

An uber lightweight camping pot, that is, titanium or similar

I have been given a generous discount by Macpac for some clothing but my funds/budget are in somewhat of an extreme cash flow crisis at present. Anybody that knows me will realise that I am expert at living on the whiff of half an oily rag but I have used up my reserves with ferry fares, water taxi, food drops, post, camping fees etc.

So, I know that I am all about raising awareness for Multiple Sclerosis but to do that I have to actually survive in one piece on the trail so if anybody can help either with the above or a donation to my south island fund I would be very appreciative. I don't want to trouble my gold sponsors, Mr and Mrs Paul and Sue Roberts yet again for support as they have both helped out so very much thus far.

Thanks folks, as Adele would say, see you on the other side....RachXX

The Tararuas have a sign at the beginning saying, do not tramp alone, this is a dangerous environment with extreme weather conditions and challenging terrain. Luckily, when I was trying not to succumb to the early stages of hypothermia at the first hut Stefan walked in smiling and made me a hot drink as I couldn't use my hands. In his indomitable Aussie way he said hey mate you look a bit rough. I have to be honest here, it was hands down totally irresponsible and  inexcusably arrogant of me to presume that I could handle the Tararuas on my own. Stefan and I eventually carried on to the next hut which had a stove and we met up with several other Ta through trampers. Five very long days later we were spat out, deflated of every breath of energy and motivation but buoyed by the very best sense of camaraderie and support that I have experienced to date on the TA. 

In the hut on the final night I looked around me at my fellow Tararua survivors, Katie with a very  pale, exhausted face after injuring her knee badly, myself still with shaking hands and a feeling of extreme nausea after an epic head first fall down a ridge, even the ever strong Stefan was quiet after days of gale winds and freezing rain. There was a tangible air of relief that we had all made it out.


After this I had to attempt to hitch to the Palmerston North MS Society Christmas lunch and after a rather long time getting myself together in the toilet I think I was reasonably normal. Kia Kaha and apologies for writing a rather more eviscerating account than normal.  I am staying with my TA friend Lois in Wellington to locate my lost confidence and many thanks to her and her lovely family.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

I got my first view of the mighty Whanganui whilst trying to tramp the torrid 42 Traverse  (see last post!) and it really is everything a river should be: Wet, full of sweeping bends, delightful eddies and steep banks, with the gorge-framed bush seeming to say “nothing of interest here, paddle on.” Ha but I’m not that easily fooled,  as I had seen lots of camouflaged tin shacks when I was yet again going to be benighted on my tramp.

I was paddling with Sam, a 26 year old from Glasgow who is a breath of fresh air in the world of TA trampers. She would no more give herself a trail name than she would spend a day without swearing, drinking or attempting to hook up with various other younger TA people. Apparently there is a Facebook page (closed to us oldies, obviously) specifically for them all to arrange their routes (sic).