Upper Travers Hut - Blue Lake Hut

Nelson Lakes is hailed by the majority of TA hikers as the best section. Big, airy huts and fantastic landscape. So far I agree wholeheartedly. The Richmonds had some great views, but this stretch is beyond my vocabulary. Yesterday had been my favourite day on trail… until today. We left Upper Travers Hut in the early hours of the morning to climb the calf-killing Travers Saddle. The trail clung steeply to the edge of the basin, dewy tussock brushing against our legs as we climbed. It took us an hour to reach the saddle. Purple clouds evaporated steadily from the mountaintops and revealed blue sky. Another sunny day ahead! Toby being Toby ran up to one of the lower summits towards Mount Travers while Team Swiss and I sat munching Whittaker’s chocolate. It was freezing cold in the wind, and we opted to keep moving fast.

I don’t think my knees will ever forgive me for that hellish 1200m decent from Travers Saddle to West Sabine Hut. Can you tell how steep that is? The hut was at the bottom of the far valley, and the trail forced us to brace with legs, poles and soul. Just as we passed the treeline, Etienne – who was in the lead – turned to us with an alarmed expression. “Daaaaamn!”

“What’s going on?” Patrick almost walked into me after Etienne’s sudden stop.

“I left my underwear in the hut!”

We stood dumbstruck for a second before keeling over with laughter. It was all I could do to not pee myself for the second time in less than a week! Etienne suffered from bad rash in his groin from all the sweating and chafing, and spent considerable time attending to it with baby powder in the hut bivvies each night. He had hung his boxers out to air at Upper Travers, where they now remained on the porch to greet every new hiker. He had no choice but to go commando for the rest of the stretch. We hiked onwards merrily through the beach forest, snorting with laughter every time someone would imitate Etienne’s signatory “Daaaaamn!”.

We reached the lovely West Sabine Hut to enjoy our lunch under the dazzling sun. It was just as sweltering both inside and out, so we sat on the deck to air out our socks. I peeled off the band aid patch covering the sore I’d gotten from yesterday’s incident with the log, and felt my mouth go dry. The wound wasn’t better. On the contrary, it was bigger, swollen and weeping. Shit! No way I was going to get sepsis out here, and I bit my lip as I dabbed the wound firmly with alcohol swabs. I decided my best bet was to leave it uncovered and let the sun dry it out. Etienne’s shin wasn’t looking much better, and we concluded that the tree trunk was poisonous. How about a sign advertising “Want a helicopter ride? Scrape yourself here!”

Coming away from West Sabine Hut, with a throbbing shin and swollen feet, I thought back to El and her hiking philosophy. I decided to saunter the stretch up to Blue Lake Hut for all I was worth. So for the rest of the afternoon under the huge New Zealand sky, I walked slow enough to hardly break a sweat, running my hand along the trunks of beech trees, listening to the sound of the rushing Travers river. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed the act of hiking so much! Everyone took it easy, wandering the soft moss and stony banks of the river in easy strides. Tiny butterflies fluttered around the ruffled alpine daisies growing along the side of the trail. Mountains leaned in all around us, the sun shone splendidly, and I felt like the luckiest person alive.

This hiking life combines the ultimate adventure, freedom and simplicity. You’re logging a heavy pack up steep gradients for 8 hours a day, but you are also free to do whatever you want along the way. In the last few km before Blue Lake Hut, I discovered a calm spot in the river with a grassy bank to sit on. I stripped naked and dove right in, squealing at the cold. After grappling with wet merino underwear I sat and waited for Etienne to join me, and we shared a block of chocolate to enjoy with the silence. We walked the last mile together, gaping at the crystalline river and the gooey algae growing in clumps at the bottom.

At Blue Lake Hut we grabbed the last bunks and set off to explore Blue Lake, which lay just up the trail. The hut was swarming with activity. The Nelson Lakes track intersects with the heavily trafficked Travers Sabine Circuit, and Blue Lake is a major attraction. The clearest freshwater lake in the world, it is a sacred site to the Maori and it is forbidden to swim in it. I could just barely hold back from touching it, it remains one of the most stunning sights I’ve ever seen in the wild. Look at it! With over 60 m visibility underwater, it didn’t even look real as it lay like an ultramarine gem nestled in the grand mountainscape. This is where life is. We tanned for hours on the narrow shores framed by fuzzy green beech forest, our eyes magnetically glued to the rippling blue lake surface.

For 18 months I had envisioned living these days. Now that I was here, I realised that even my wildest fantasies couldn’t capture this kind of beauty. “How wild it was… to let it be!”