Day 102 - 106 | Km 2774 - 2906 | Southland’s Mud & Mice
Ever had a pie panic? For those of you aware of what that is, I can hear you cooing in sympathy. For those unsure, I shall explain. Imagine you’re all packed and ready to go tramping in the bush for a few days, suddenly a wave of doubt runs through you, unsure whether you have enough food and worse still, potentially lacking in snacks. You have exactly 20 minutes before your ride arrives. Google maps says it’s an 8 minute walk to the bakery - you can make it if you run.
This is me on the morning I’m leaving Te Anau. Charging through the pouring rain, bakery bound, I’m having a full blown pie panic. It’s suddenly not a want, it’s a need. I urgently need that warmth in my belly before heading into the notoriously muddy and wet forests of Southland for 4 days. I’ve made it to the Four Square for snacks followed by the bakery in less than 6 minutes; I have time to savour my hot veggie pie on the walk back to the hostel.
I’d left my final resupply with the wonderful Abi of Roscos kayaks in Te Anau. After picking it up Abi had kindly offered to drop me back to the trail head the following day. The car journey was short but I was sure by the end Abi and I would be seeing each other again; with many friends in common through Outward Bound we were full on into adventure planning as we hugged goodbye.
Southland is farming country, so it was only appropriate to refine my sheep herding skills before heading into the first forest of Takitimu…
As soon as I stepped foot into that forest it started to rain, then proceeded to do so all day. The trail was wet, muddy and slippy. Watching the rain clouds pass through the valley below I munched my lunch and vowed to remain positive. The silence of a damp forest can be quite magical. Part of me felt it was about time I experienced more of this weather, compared to some TA hikers I felt I’d been let off the hook lightly; I’d managed to avoid most of the severe storms that had battered the South Island this summer. Head down I b-lined for Aparima Hut. To avoid getting cold, i decided stopping wasn’t an option. Finally after 7 hours splashing through well trodden marshland and thigh high grass I knew I was nearing the hut. It may have been this thought letting my guard down, the fatigue of fighting against mud, or a combination that lead to my face ending up only centimetres from a cow pat. Until then I hadn’t even been aware of any cows nor their fresh steaming poop piles until I was breathing it in through my nasal cavity. It could however of been SO much worse!
Having seen no one all day, I half expected to have Aparima Hut all to myself. I burst through the door cold and dripping yet relieved to finally have made it to my shelter for the night. I was surprised to find a lone older German man sat at the table, he gave me one look and leapt up announcing in broken English ‘I try fire again, if me no work, you try. Maybe you are fire dragon Queen!’. Thankfully this time he got it going and I didn’t have to conjure my inner dragon. As the fire warmed the hut and my toes, we watched the cheekiest of mice running circles around us. This was just the start of things to come…
The majority of the following day was spent hiking through thick forest, lush with ferns. Two things I never thought I’d say; I’d become fascinated by mushrooms and grown a weird obsession with moss. A mushroom’s bright colours contrasted well against the coral reef-like structures of the moss, I couldn’t help but let them catch my eye….
Peanut butter was apparently irresistible to the rats on the Lower Wairaki Hut’s rat traps. Seeing that humans to rats were winning 3-0, my lunch stop there involved rebating the trap in the fireplace with their favourite treat to see if we could up it to 4-0. Back with wet socks on my wrinkled feet, it was onward and upward with the trail. Ascending up into the clouds I spilled out unexpectedly onto the open alpine ridge of Telford Tops. Here I got my first glimpse of the Southern ocean, just a whole lot of farmland and forest left between me and my final destination of Bluff. That night I was in for a real treat, the mice situation worsened, making me feel like the Mickey Mouse. What caused such a ridiculous amount of rodents? Apparently this was a mast year in New Zealand, or in actual fact a ‘mega’ mast year where trees and plants produce an exceptionally high amount of seed, above and beyond that of an average mast year.
My scorning of a fellow hiker in the video above came back to bite me in the ass. My food is contained in a plastic bag, inside a dry bag, that I then bring inside the tent with me at night. My thought being if its water tight, its smell tight too. However, NOT TO A MOUSE. I woke multiple times through the night thinking I had a mouse inside my tent, I could hear them investigating my pack outside the tent but worse still, I could see their shadows running over my tents inner. Numerous times I’d wake, see their shadow straight overhead and whack the inner, this would send the mouse flying into the outer part of my tent then reverberate back onto the inner with a prolonged squeeeeeeak. They never seemed to get the message so I chose to ignore them and let them be. Only in the morning did I find that one cheeky feck had chewed through my tent and my food bag that must have fallen against the inner during the night. Although I was pleased to see it hadn’t actually eaten any of my food. I hope it was eaten by a stoat.
Strict instructions are given in the trail notes regarding Mt Linton Station; 25km of privately owned farm land. At no time are you allowed to deviate from the trail, or else trespassing notices will be issued. Firstly it’s a working farm so it could be dangerous and secondly it’s private land so respect needs to be given that access has been granted in the first place. This section was meeeh. Although pretty at times there was also a whole LOT of cow shit (gone at this point was my patience for poop so please excuse the swear words). For example, as I approach yet another river crossing my feet are already soaking wet and shoes covered in mud so I think at least this will clean them, if not with a little farm fertilisers added in. I reach the far bank, shoes clean, only to face a swampy river of liquid cow manure that I could see no other way around apart from straight through. Clean shoes lasted all of 10 seconds that day.
There was a silver lining to the day and it came in the form of the Hindrup family! Scott, a keen trail runner and adventurer himself has helped the likes of Anna McNuff & Adventurous Lucy on their TA journeys too. I was totally over liquid cow poop, mud and mice and really just wanted a shower….Like Anna says in her book ‘The Pants of Perspective’, Scott also turned out to be my knight in shining armour too.
After breaking free of Mt Linton Station, Scott and Zach picked me up. I arrived to their home near Nightcaps and waved to Ava & Iris riding their horses in the paddock as we pulled into their driveway. First things first I hop into the shower… but 5 minutes later I have flooded their bathroom! I first meet Chantel (Scott’s wife) dripping wet in a towel stood in a very incriminating puddle of water thats now creeping into the hall carpet! I’d realised the shower basin was filling up but just thought it was a little blocked and something that usually happens… I didn’t feel I was THAT dirty to have blocked the shower in less than 5 minutes. Chantel was an angel, and armed with mop and bucket no task was too big for her to handle. Chantel had cycled across America, she could handle a wet bathroom floor no problem.
The Hindrup’s were amazing, their excitement for life and sense of adventure was epic and put a huge smile on my face hearing all their inspiring stories. Even more so when the self-saucing chocolate pudding came out ;). A massive thank you for your kindness & hospitality xxx
Dropped back to the trail the following morning, the sun is shining and the world seems a better place. Running through Woodlaw Forest reminded me of an Autumn day back home in England, sunny, but with a crispness in the air. I stumble upon Noah, Yani & Callum yet again, happy to have company following a long few days without. Joined by a 5th team member, a Czech guy nicknamed ‘Chewbacca’ or ‘Chewy’ for short (I didn’t ask), we took on Longwood Forest in force.
You may recall I mentioned a forest in Northland called Raetea, renowned for its mud. Longwood was basically Raetea on steroids. Honestly the mud was insane! Every step was effort making it a very slow & fatiguing section. We were rewarded with great views from Longwoods Peak and over lunch we prepped ourselves for the decent.
Martin’s Hut is the oldest hut on the trail. The stories we’d heard about this hut made us certain we’d not be staying the night there. Infested with rats and all round run down, what a treat for the final hut on the trail! We opted to continue along Potts Water Race, a trail following along a water way used in the mining days, to a camp spot near some old mining equipment. Basically as far from Martin’s Hut as we could get!
