Part 5
A little rain throughout the night but a good rest was had by all. Forgetting for a moment our constant adversaries, we swung our tent doors open to be greeted by a hoard of biting demons. After a quick scramble we got back into tents to hide and prepare for the next leg of the journey.
Then we were off again, climbing and crawling from one rock to another along the powerful and windy Wanganui river. I noticed that depending on how the sun hit the rocks, certain sections of the bank were more slippery than others and needed better footing. Every part of the body was being pushed, like I was in some kind of never-ending workout plus 20kg weight on my back! Every kilometre or two a small patch of green meadow would appear and provide a brief flat walk to ease the back and legs. Side creeks cut their way toward the river every hundred metres or so and gave us more fresh clean water than we could ever need. Small trout would dart behind cover as we stepped through and pressed on. Blue ducks and wild birds seemed to have kept this valley a secret to themselves.
It was a cat and mouse game with the valley. As soon as the boulder hopping pushed us to the brink of exhaustion, a small green meadow or forested area would appear with a slither of trail to walk. How could a place this beautiful be so hard to move through? The wildness of the valley forced the mind to remain present to stay safe. Any carelessness at this point would mean a cool dip in the river that would have ended more than just this journey.
After hours of grinding we finally reached a milestone point of the hike. The famed suspension bridge:
After photos and renewed confidence we continued. The trail turned into the forest. It seemed as though every tree or plant, while beautiful, was designed to scratch or sting. Our legs were covered in grass seeds, hands trying to keep the spike covered trees away from the face and eyes while dodging stinging nettle. Stiiiiinging Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeetttllllllllllleeee!!!! My first experience with this stuff. It seemed to grow and overhang the trail at every tight corner and tricky creek crossing. “STINGING NETTLE!” Became the warning cry for the entire length of forest trail.
We popped out of the jungle/forest and slipped back down onto the rocks. There were huge areas of land where a trail may have existed, but washed away with time. I didn’t want to be there when the weather was bad enough to push some of the truck sized boulders around that river. That must be where the trail went…
The river started to gain a glacial hue. That milky sky blue colour gave hope that the glacial mountains we were heading towards were getting closer. Slowly…
Back into the thick stinging forest and out onto the rocks again. In, out, in, out. Sometimes we climbed and sometimes we crawled. We remained mentally tough, but our unseasoned bodies started to wear down. I wondered to myself how anyone could possibly hunt the forest here. In an instant the blue skies turned grey and now we were soaking wet. The rocks were more slippery and the forest trail quickly pulled you into its muddy arms up to the knees.
Then we saw it.. another ‘bridge’ in the distance. I swear the only thing keeping me from collapsing at that point was the vision of that bridge. The bridge marked the final push until we reached our destination. So… push we did. We arrived and couldn’t wait to see how this contraption worked…
Spirits were now high. We knew the hut was close and a REAL trail appeared and it was almost flat! After a short walk through an incredibly beautiful section of forest… we made it.
The rut was just starting and I hadn’t heard a roar yet.. When would the valley fire up? I wondered what the morning would bring… The stove fired up and off to sleep, dreaming of beasts that surrounded us.