Noodles worked quite well yesterday but I don't have any more of those...so I had another pasta snack for breakfast. These are getting a bit old now. I made a resolve to try and find a steak in Kerikeri...
Today's section of trail follows gravel roads for a few kilometers before striking out over rolling farmland and sheep paddocks. Then it's back on gravel road again for a few more kilometers and back onto rolling farm country. Coming down through the farmland you connect with the Maungaparerua Stream. The track follows this for a couple of kilometers as it meanders through flat, cattle-grazed farmland before flowing into the Kerikeri River. The trail then follows this river into the town, crossing under the SH10 bridge and then running along the back of small farms and lifestyle blocks that abut the river. As you get closer to town things get more developed with some very flash houses going up on the blocks...so much so you almost feel like you're walking through people's back yards. Some of the residents obviously think so too as someone has gone along one part of the track and put up extra big orange markers in addition to the small official ones, denoting where the track goes (and thereby, where it does not).
About 5 kms out from my destination of Kemp House in Kerikeri Basin I ground to a halt. My blisters were hurting, but more than anything my feet just plain hurt. Three days compounded blisters on my heels are now the size of $2 coins but have fortunately not yet drawn blood...I like to think due to careful management. The more immediate problem was my feet were pruny...and I mean PRUNY. Rookie Mistake #2: I had worn my wet socks from yesterday again today. The tingling sensation of the water had initially helped stimulate the soles of my feet providing a nice little massage as I walked. Then later in the day I had the strange sensation of feeling the texture of my socks where I had never felt it before. Well, turns out it was the texture forming on my feet! Honestly, John Wesley Powell could charter expeditions down the canyons that had formed in my feet. As well as this they were hot and swollen, despite being pale whitish-purple in colour. Dumping my stuff I went down to the river to cool my feet in the water before scrambling back up and drying them off and massaging some foot balm into them. I got out the hiker wool and plaster stuff I have, cutting it to size and assembling custom blister-covers. Then I pulled out a dry pair of socks (not hiking socks, but still thick merinos) and left my feet alone for half and hour to recover.
I'd been there about 20 minutes when a dog came and found me, shortly followed by his owner, a kind woman with a South African accent. She asked if I was okay, and when I explained I was doing the trail and resting my feet she offered me a lift into town. I thanked her but assured her that I'd be alright. I was determined to walk and not take vehicular short cuts except at the 'utmost end of need'. Treatment and rest did the trick and I eased my boots back on and did them up...and stood up...and walked...and my feet were okay! It took a minute or two for the plasters and socks to come to an agreement about what was going to give and pull where, and then I could walk on, pain free except for the residual ache of already having walked 20km that day. I was concerned my boots would now start rubbing around my unprotected ankles, but they're well padded and caused no problems despite the short socks.
The trail soon intersected with the Kerikeri River Track, a DOC footpath through kiwi habitat along the banks of the river that begins near Rainbow Falls and undulates along the river bank all the way to Kerikeri basin. It's a lovely walk and despite my exhaustion I thoroughly enjoyed the majority of it (the last kilometers are always the hardest and in this case aren't quite so pretty). Finally you emerge at a broad park with a footbridge over to the quaint and picturesque Kemp House--the oldest house in the country (1821-22), and the Stone Store. It was gone 5:30pm so they were both shut, but I resolved to come and visit them tomorrow as I had decided to have a rest day in Kerikeri. Stopping to have a quick rest and take a couple of photos I slow-trudged up the hill to the motel (mercifully only about half a K away) and checked in.
Wendi, the wonderful woman behind the desk, showed me to my room, bringing along a plate of strawberries and cookies. I walked in and immediately felt too dirty to be in such a nice room. Wendi said not to be so silly. The though of a muddy, smelly hiker in her pristine establishment didn't seem to bother her at all. When I asked about dining in/delivery options she explained they do cook in house...and offered me the long desired steak! Steak and salad--sold! With an hour until dinner I staggered into the shower and managed to scrub myself clean without my feet or legs giving way. Wrapped in towels (actual towels!) I lay down on the bed...and felt my body shut down. While you are going you don't really notice the accumulated fatigue...but as soon as you stop, everything that's been holding its collective breath lets it go. I suddenly became acutely aware of every bump, bruise and ache, and they were everywhere, mostly in my feet, but everywhere. I decided a rest day was a very good call.
 |
| A bit of a contrast to the tent... |
At 7pm there was a knock on the door and there was Wendi with a tray containing a plate of steak and mushroom sauce with a fresh green salad and handful of beer battered chips. And it was not just any steak...scotch fillet, beautifully cooked, and quite possibly the best salad I have ever eaten (leaves, fresh asparagus spears, avocado, grapes, melon, strawberries...nom nom nom).
I was in heaven, lamenting the fact that I couldn't stay another night despite my decision to have a rest day in Kerikeri as unfortunately the motel, Woodlands, is booked out tomorrow night...or so Wendi told me when I enquired on check-in. As fate would have it however while I was lying there, clean, fed and a little less achy, I got a text from Wendi saying I could have the room for a second night if I wanted, but if it didn't fit my budget I should feel free to pitch my tent on the lawn free of charge. Wonderful, wonderful woman! I decided to give myself a birthday treat and took the room.
Cue Fred Astair..."I'm in heaven..."!
No comments:
Post a Comment