Hope Halfway Hut - Hurunui Hut

Today has been a very important lesson in thru-hiking life for me. Despite a golden sunrise coming over the hills and into my tent, I woke up feeling half-dead. You see, at about 01.30, I woke up and stared into a pair of big yellow eyes. The eyes were attached to a face, attached to a mouth that was busy gnawing through my $600 tent. POSSUM! I shrieked, sending the culprit fleeing and waking up Toby and probably the hunter inside the hut. Fuck! Possums may look fluffy and squishy, but darn if the little monster didn’t come back at least 10 times until it was almost 03. I oppose guns on principle, but I would gladly have blasted a rocket-propelled grenade across the meadow to get in some precious sleep.

Tent was of course soaked through with condensation. Also, it became very clear after leaving Hope Halfway Hut that we were in for another soggy day. What looked like a fine field of green grass just disappeared once we stepped onto it. Water gushed into our shoes. Was there no end to this? We trudged between bushes, oblivious to the pretty green mountains around us. I wistfully thought back to the bone-dry trails of California with each slurping step. We reached Hope Kiwi Lodge (not a lodge), a beautiful log hut encircled by daisies and a paved footpath to the front door. Inside was a cool American NOBO hiker taking a zero and reading Harari’s Homo Deus. Good guy. He saw the green Backcountry Cuisine pouches in our food bags, snorted and asked us if we’d crapped our pants yet. I regret to inform you that this is a horrendously common thru-hiker experience. Freeze-dried will only take you so far. But as of yet, no such baptism for me! *crosses herself*

Leaving Hope Kiwi, we embarked on the 18 km stretch to Hurunui Hut. I walked in silence and raked through my mind. Why was I feeling like this? My gear was wet, my knees hurt, I felt incredibly tired even after two zero days, and even the sunny weather couldn’t lift my spirits. But then… perhaps that was a part of the point of this journey? Accepting what is far from perfect, persisting despite drudgery. I had become such a quitter during my undergraduate years. Quit assignments, quit friendships, quit hobbies, quit anything that required more than minimal effort. Part of the rationale for doing the TA was turning that around. So I walked a bit faster. Breathed a bit deeper. Stroked the familiar beech trees as I drifted by them.

By the time we reached the shores of the vast Lake Sunmer, the sun was shining splendidly. I let my hair out of my braid, fished out my book and broke into this stretch’s Whittaker slab – hokey pokey. Toby and I leaned against each other’s back and felt peace settle. When you are facing a bad day, you have about two constructive choices. Either plough through as we had on Mt Rintoul where lingering would have been dangerous. Or stop, take a break and allow yourself to feel tired and demotivated whilst still appreciating the beauty around you. A long trail is hard on your body and your mind. But rushing to get to a hut because it feels instinctively good to be inside isn’t always the way to go. When I look at the photos from this day now (2,5 years later), I would give anything to be back.

Standing at the edge of the forest facing a huge grassy valley, I knew we were lucky to be there. Lucky to have tea and hot chocolate for dessert. Lucky to swim in the wide river under a swingbridge before Hurunui Hut. Lucky to have met the spunky gal there, Rosie Rose. Just gotta zen. Your motivation deserves some devotion too, don’t save it all for your feet.

Clouds settled over the faraway mountains as I wrote this at the table by the light of my headlamp. It felt lovely to spread out my now dry sleeping bag on a big mattress next to Toby and Rosie. We are right where we are supposed to be.