Walking Home

reveries of an amateur long-distance hiker

Day 8

September 9th, 2015

Sep 8 day 8 Apple Dam Camp to Puketi Camp 25 km 7:30 – 3:00

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Finally a really beautiful day. Early part on a forest track past many Kauri Trees, and by mid-morning descended down an old atv track through the high rushes to the Mangapukuhukuhu Stream which I then hiked straight down the middle of it for about 3k. It was just like a scene out of The River Queen. Ended up at the Whakapaku River and had to wade across it. The most difficult part then was a track that went along the river for about 4k as it was slippery and in places non-existent. Eventually it climbed out of the valley and met up with another forest road, to a really nice DOC campsite with toilets, running water, etc. got there early enough to spread things out to dry in the sun. The hut was occupied by a detachment of NZ SAS soldiers training In the nearby jungle who made a lot of noise during the night but still, best day so far.

Day 7

September 9th, 2015

Sep 7 day 7 free camp on ridge to Apple Dam Camp 25 km 7:30-3:00

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Woke to rain and cold, packed up quickly, put on wet clothes and headed out fast. The trail down to valley (5km) was ridiculous– standing water, looked like ponds in the middle of the trail. Soon I was completely soaked and covered in mud. Finally got to bottom which was a bit of hiking through pastures, still soupy mud, but clumps of grass to jump from tuft to tuft. Lots of cattle and horses, so things became more pleasant, if not more dry. Soon hit the Makune road and started hiking fast just to dry out and get warm. Got out the the main road and continued fast hiking up to Mangamuka Bridge, where there was Tip Top fast food and store. Had egg and bacon sandwich, coffee, chips, and just reveled in being inside. The woman who ran the place was so welcoming and asked me to sign the register. Two other thru hikers had signed for this season, though I am sure there are several more ahead. The afternoon hike to a simple campsite was beautiful, sun came up, and the trail was a forestry road, so no mud, and gradual altitude gain. The campsite was adequate, had water and a flat spot for tent but really boggy, and no late afternoon sun to dry things out. Still, things are looking up, getting used to the rain, and the word is that the trail on into KeriKeri is not so bad. Spent early evening relaxing in tent (still raining) and reading a bit.

Day 5

September 9th, 2015

Sep 5 day 5 Ahipara to Digger Valley Road 24 km 7:30-4:30

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Started out beautiful, barely a cloud in the sky as the rains had come on hard all night but dissipated by morning. Made coffee in kitchen before leaving, then strolled through town, stopping to get a juice before striking out of town. The first 9 km were on a road, and through the morning, the traffic increased, making for an unpleasant start. Excited about finally turning and hiking on a trail instead of sand or a road. The beginning of the Herekino Forest track was steep but well maintained, but, as the day wore on, the trail wore out. Basically there was not really a trail, just a path marked with orange triangles, but going straight up hills, and straight back down. Very slick red clay, sometimes getting off a bank required climbing in a tree’s lower branches. The surface was completely saturated, and I could make no serious mileage. It was, quite simply, the worst trail I ever hiked. Ended up on a farm road right next to Digger Valley road, pitched tent in the only almost-not-bog place (plenty of cow shit around), found some water, made a quick dinner, and turned in, hoping for better trails tomorrow.

Commencement

September 4th, 2015

Commencement

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Cape Reinga, the northernmost point in New Zealand, is the Springer Mountain of the Te Araroa trail, the place of commencement. There is no public transport there, so you have to rely on hitchhiking, book private transportation, or get a ride on one of the tour buses that take tourists to various sites (Kauri tree emporia, gumdigger museums) on the way up to the cape. They then take their passengers sand surfing and finish with a fast, long drive on the sand down 90 mile beach. The cape itself is on Maori sacred land, a place to visit but not for lunch or other recreation. At the lighthouse, you can see clearly the meeting point of two seas–the Tasman and the Pacific–whose battling currents form a line pointing directly toward where you stand.

Beginning and ends are marked literally or symbolically, but are lived differently. Hiking the Appalachian Trail, most people commence from Springer, but after a mile or two, all thoughts turn to the end: Katadhin, that cloud machine in the middle of Maine that Thoreau attempted to climb so many years ago and which now is the site of thru-hiker jubilation. The first is passed and nearly forgotten, and the second becomes obsession.

On finishing school, people both commence and graduate. Graduation is a marking off, but has a sense of finality, of reaching a specific point, while commencing is an opening out. Days are commenced with anticipation, sometimes even joy, but soon are governed by ends, reduce to the tasks that need accomplishing or the miles that need walking. Many thinkers celebrate the ideal of the in-between, cautioning disciples to not focus on the goal, but instead the journey. What then becomes of the commencement?

Living for beginnings can produce nostalgia, a yearning for an irretrievable moment of of pure plenitude. It degrades the present by its shining ephemerality, and is rightly criticized as reactionary if not absurdly mythical. Raymond Williams coined the term “the nostalgia escalator” to describe the infinite regress nostalgia produces, the constant pushing back in time of that moment when the world was not part of a degraded present.

But perhaps nostalgia not the only way to think commencement. Embracing the journey has the virtue of evading teleological totalization, but holding onto the moment of commencement– just a bit longer– is a way to reframe the triad, to turn back non-nostalgically to a different plenitude, to a moment of pure possibility. Surely a time worth re-living even as it is irrevocable.

T. Hugh Crawford

Day 4

September 4th, 2015

Sep 4 day 4 free camp to Ahipara YHA 13 km 8:45-11:15

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Woke up to roosters, and a cool but bright morning. Had coffee in the kitchen before setting off for a short morning stroll and the last of the beach hiking. Became cloudy and started to rain just was I arrived, got bunk room at the hostel, washed clothes, ate at the fish and chip shop (only food in town), resupplied, and spent afternoon next to fire in the main hostel room. Damp but satisfying day– glad to be out of the weather for an afternoon and evening.

Day 3

September 4th, 2015

Sep 3 day 3 free camp to Holiday Campground 40 km 7:15-4:00

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Carefully packed in the rain, hoping to keep much of the equipment dry, though all was completely covered in sand. Of course it started to rain just as I was finishing up. Got out to the beach at 7:15 and, just like Robinson Crusoe, was amazed to find footprints leading down the beach. I trailed them a couple of hours, to discover it was Teddy. He had only planned to hike short days (former pro soccer player with bad shoulder), but was so frustrated with the brutal boredom that is hiking a beach all day long, he was pushing hard to finish this section. We had two camping choices, one we hit at 12:00, and decided it was too early to stop, so we pushed for the next, which necessitated a 40 km day. Both of us were exhausted when we got to the Holiday campground, but it had hot showers and a kitchen, and we pitched tents out of the worst of the wind. Spent the evening wearing all my warm clothes, just wanted to be hot, dry and non-sandy for a little while. The good news is that it is only 13 km into Ahipara, so I’ll have a long day to do laundry and get caught up on correspondence.

Day 2

September 4th, 2015

Sep 2 day 2 Twilight beach campground to free camp 35 km 7:00- 3:30

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Day started out beautifully, clear sky, sun, not to hot. Up and over Scott’s point, then down onto 90 Mile beach (which is more like 85 km beach). Hiked almost entire day without seeing a sign of anyone. Sand was firm, kilometers ticked by. As the day wore on the wind picked up, fortunately at my back. As the tide came in, I had to skip around waves climbing the dunes, and just the sheer drudgery began to wear. Around 2:00 I got to a campground at Bluffs. Even though it was early, I was ready to stop, but the campground was a mess, all facilities closed, horses wandering the grounds, so I decided to hike another hour or so. Found a stream, went up a bit and pitched in the dunes. Of course sand was everywhere, made dinner, walked a bit on the beach, but just wanted to crawl into the tent and get out of the wind which by then was tossing the tent around like a toy. A storm blew in after 8:00 was really gusty. Tent pegs would not hold, so (after trying a few different scenarios including dropping the poles and sleeping on the tent), I ended up in the tent without poles, wrapped in the top, holding on to keep it from flapping and to keep out the rain when it came in. Got very little sleep. Here’s hoping tomorrow is better.

Day 1

September 4th, 2015

Sep 1. Day 1 Cape Reinga to Twilight Beach campground 12 Km 1:00-4:00

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Cape Reinga is the Springer Mountain of the TA. There is no public transport from Kaitaia up Highway 1 to the cape, the northernmost point in NZ, so I negotiated a trip with a tour group who were driving up the highway and back on the beach (which in NZ is part of the public right of way). Having taken the same tour with the family back in 2005, the sightseeing up was familiar including a stop at a Kauri wood emporium built around a large, upright trunk which has been carved into a spiral staircase; then a trip to a gumdigger museum site. It’s an odd feeling commencing a long-distance hike by riding a bus with tourists stopping at every sightseeing opportunity. Even though huge storms passed through last night and there is flooding in Auckland, the skies cleared out mid-morning giving me a warm sunny first day. Walked down to the lighthouse in bright light, turned and commenced the trek. The TA at first is well built, as that part is walked by day hikers. Down to the beach required rock scrambling (some difficult) then long walk on hard sand. The hills are grass covered sand dunes– this stretch is a long 10k wide sand bar stretching between the volcanic hill of Reinga, and the volcanic hills around Ahipara. When crossing a hill off the first beach over to Twilight beach, the trail is marked by posts painted orange at the top. After a while your eyes grow accustomed to finding them in the distance. I had hoped to make it to the beginning of 90 mile beach (about 16k) but on hitting the south of Twilight, I found a Department of Conservation campground with water, toilets, pavilion and wide grass space. Too tempting when compared to stealth camping in the dunes farther on, so I pitched my tent, spread out sweaty clothes to dry, and talked a long time to a young German named Teddy who is also hiking the TA. The sun goes down early here and rises late, making for short hiking days. Around 6:00, the temperature dropped, and it wasn’t long before I crawled into my sleeping bag for warmth and to sleep. Excellent first day, tomorrow need big miles.

Animals

August 22nd, 2015

Animals
Pacific Crest Trail, August 2015

One of the first things to strike you on the northernmost part of the PCT is a pervasive silence. The forests breathes, but the birds and squirrels generally don’t chatter (except in Canada; Canadian squirrels make a racket!). It’s like being in a pre-Internet library. Not to say there is no sound, just that it is generally a quiet rustle, definitely not a roar. One exception: an unidentified bird whose call exactly duplicates the single note sounded by the emergency whistle on the sternum strap of a backpack.

It’s never clear whether it’s movement or sound that signal snakes. Snake awareness is always synaesthetic– a full-body response. We only encountered the occasional garden variety, never hearing the electric rattle that stops all movement including the human heart. More often the rustle is a bird pecking at the ground, innumerable chipmunks, and the occasional sharp call of a pika (small round mammals related to rabbits who sound a sharp alarm before diving into their burrow).

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Movement on the trail usually means marmots or grouse. Many hikers regard marmots and cute, almost cuddly animals, who fearlessly perch atop hills, surveying the slopes and the hikers passing by. To me, they are slightly cute grey groundhogs. Back home, I remember kids with 22 rifles going out to hunt groundhogs, and farmers who carried a 22 or a 310 shotgun on their tractors to eliminate the critters who were digging up their fields. Guess it’s an east coast/west coast thing. Other fearless beings on the trail are grouse–the size of chickens (well, almost). Most hikers know the rush of adrenaline when they scare up a covey — the sudden burst and beat of wings brings the unsuspecting hiker to a shocked, heart-pounding standstill (or the hunter to a frenzy of shotgun blasts). These grouse rarely flee, and barely make the effort to run away. Sometimes they just head down the trail in front of you, barely outpacing boots and trekking poles.

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Bears lurk but do not often appear. Parks may require food canisters in parts of California, but the hikers on the Washington PCT don’t use them, nor do they hang. They just curl up in their tent, food bags and all. So the largest non-human creatures to grace the trail are deer. Also fearless and also desperate for salt, they act offended when you invade their area, particularly if it is a campsite. And if you are foolish enough to piss anywhere near camp, you can expect multiple loud visits in the night, with the deer munching carefully the moss, humus, and soil you recently marked.

By far, the most frequently encountered animals are human, falling into several categories: day hikers, trail runners, short section or weekend hikers, lashers (long ass section hikers), and the occasional thru hiker (in the case of the PCT, that would mean hiking from Mexico to Canada). Each species exhibit different behaviors. Short timers tend to be louder and overburdened with shiny new equipment (most of which they will not use). Long timers smell, travel light and fast, and demonstrate remarkable efficiency in setting up or breaking camp, eating lunch on the trail, or crapping in the woods. A typical PCT thru-hike is over five months, usually commencing around May 1, so we were in front of the main bubble, only meeting a few hardy, fast souls.

True long-distance hikes are not just weather but also seasonally dependent, which is why most people hike both the PCT and the Appalachian Trail northbound. As the title of his book indicates, Earl Shaffer (the first AT thru-hiker) hiked north “With the Spring.” But the PCT presents other obstacles to the would-be thru hiker as the mountain passes in California can still be snowed in well into the summer, and Washington can ice up even in September. And, as we learned, other unanticipated obstacles present including trail closures or rerouting because of fire. All that makes a pure thru hike of the PCT, what would be called a “white blaze” hike on the AT, difficult to accomplish. All but one of the thru hikers we met who finished in Canada, still planned to return south to finish miles skipped for any number of reasons.

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The PCT hikers tend to be different from their AT cousins in some fundamental respects (even though there are clear exceptions). Perhaps because of the prior planning the great re-supply distances the PCT necessitates, most hikers are decidedly middle class, and tend to be well-outiftted. Benton Mackaye’s original proposal for the Appalachian Trail opens discussing labor, and quickly turns to the needs of all people for fresh air and some time away from urban factories. His was a decidedly egalitarian vision, turning the great outdoors into a place for all to use. The difficulty of access and resupply on the PCT creates an environmental niche that limits thru-hikers to the well- supplied, the well-heeled in all senses of the term.

 

T. Hugh Crawford