Turns out it wasn't another hiker but Taylor. He's come down sick with a cold overnight and he was rifling his stuff looking for something to help, finding only that eating helped sooth his sore throat. Despite the rough night he seemed his normal self over breakfast; if it were me I'd probably have just sat there making "blurrrgh" type noises.
I'd struck my tent as soon as I got up at 6:30, just in case a ranger came by who was unimpressed by our ability to identify the best of available opportunities. But no one came except a couple of mountain bikers who parked up for the day as we were packing up. Like so many other people I've met out and about, they were UK expats out making the most of the NZ wilderness. (Come on Kiwis! We need to get out there too!).
Shortly after 8 Taylor and I set off along the Timber Trail. The first part is a truely lovely forest walk during which I got extremely excited when I saw what was definitely a kaka in the trees overhead. I thought I had glimpsed one flap briefly out of the forest during dinner last night, but hadn't been sure as I didn't know if they were found in this forest or not. Certainly it had been a parrot of some kind (the squawk told me that) and I couldn't think of any other native parrots that were that big or that dark in colour. Happily an information board at the start of the walk confirmed that yes, kaka do live here, and I'd set off hoping to see one. Having done so so soon I found myself hoping to also get to see the rare and elusive kakariki which apparently can also still be found in this forest (I dared not hope to see the forest's most elusive resident, a kokako!).
As the Timber Trail is primarily a mountain bike track it is broad and an easy walk, with only a few muddy sections. After treating you to a wander through wonderful mixed native forest it pops out into a historically (recently?) logged area where the transition to a chaotic assortment of broken logs and branches gradually being overgrown by grass and weeds is quite startling. Not far along two large stumps offered up nice seats in the sun for a break. Taylor's throat was troubling him again so I offered him a strepsil, only to find I hadn't packed any! I felt so bad, but he seemed content to munch on his trail mix.
We had quite a long break, talking about life, the nature of fun, and depression...we've both come to the conclusion that Taylor may be mildly depressed since he finds it so hard to find things exciting. Still, as I pointed out, on the positive side, he's still doing things! He's travelled all the way to NZ (his first time overseas) to come and do Te Araroa for crying out loud! That's got to count for something, and who knows, maybe (hopefully!) he'll find something in it to excite. He said the other day that he expected doing the PCT to have been a life changing experience but that at the end of it he just went back to his old life and nothing had changed. This gave me much food for thought as I guess I too have taken on Te Araroa expecting/hoping for a life changing experience of some kind. It occured to me then that things don't just change because you go and do something different for a while. Things only change if the doing something different gives you a new perspective, reprioritises or completely changes your goals in life and how you mean to pursue them. Thru-hiking is the step-back from which you can appreciate your life as a bigger picture--but it's up to you whether you then go on to change how that picture is being painted. I wonder what changes I'll make when I get home...I don't want to just go back to being a couch potato!
As negative as he fears he sounds, I think there's hope for Taylor, and told him so. He has the quite admirable habit of every time he changes his situation in life (job, place he lives etc) he notices something about his life or habits that he can improve on, and so continually betters himself (as long as he doesn't pick up other bad habits along the way I suppose!). As a small example that made us both laugh the TA has already been good for his dental hygiene. After being couped up on a long haul flight for the first time and not having packed a tooth brush in his carry-on (something I think seasoned travellers will only ever neglect to do once) he now brushes every time after he eats--a regime that would impress any dentist. He puts me to shame really; whilst I try and brush twice a day, occasionally I've been so knackered at the end of the day I've gone to bed and forgotten! Oops. And yeah, gross...
As we had our break the mountain bikers passed us as part of a larger group, one of whom stopped to chat. She was very interested in the walking trail and we reflected on how much wonderful outdoors stuff there is to do in little ol' NZ.
Moving on Taylor and I headed up the logged section of track, coming to a small shelter overlooking the slope we had just traversed. It had only been an hour or do (if that) since our last break but I'm not one to look a gift seat in the leg and happily took another one. We didn't have far to go today so there seemed no point in rushing. Also, I'm a little under the weather myself today (girls, you'll understand me...) so ambling along at a snail's pace with regular stops suits me just fine.
After putting our feet up (and a lot of chocolate scarfing on my part) we set off into the forest once again. Having gained some height the forest has changed to be dominated by alpine totara (Hall's totara--go information signs!). After a while of continuous gradual climbing TA diverts off the Timber Trail onto a walking track leading up to the summit of Mt Pureora (the track condition markedly deteriorates from this junction).
As I dropped into slow-gear for the climb (which isn't steep but is sufficient to get the lungs working harder, or maybe it's just me), one-speed-only Taylor went on ahead (he reckons he finds uphill hard...does he bollocks!). Up through the forest the track gains the shoulder of the low, rounded summit and winds up through low sub-alpine scrub for the last several hundred metres. I met Taylor at the top, just in time to catch a glimpse of a view of the nearby hills before clouds began rolling in. We had lunch and I went to see a bush about some watering services, finishing up just in time as a helicopter did a low sweep over the summit, trying to stay clear of the cloud. (Why didn't I wait until I was back in the forest you ask? Sometimes when you gotta go, you just gotta go!).
Enveloped by cloud we headed down the back of Pureora and into the forest once again. The track must once have had some serviceable wooden stairs, but these are for the most part so washed out now they are more of an obstacle course (and absolutely photo worthy). Consequently it was with relief we emerged back on the Timber Trail cycle way, and followed it for a few Ks before TA branches off again to follow a forest track to a T-junction, left leading to the trail, and right leading to Bog Inn Hut (about 600m off TA). We took the right track, me finally able to be the quick one on the root-strewn and slightly muddy downhill, reaching our destination by mid afternoon.
At the end off the track is a small clearing housing the small hut that a realtor might describe as "bursting with rustic charm". It's a fifty year old rough wooden structure with a small porch at the front, an enclosed wood burner inside, along with a rough and graffitied wooden table, two form benches, four bunk beds, and gaps in the floor boards big enough to assume that the "Mr Rat lives here..." scrawled on the side of one of the bunks is entirely justifiable. It was a cool hut, but yes, it does smell a bit...um...ratty.
Taylor and I dropped our packs and did an inspection of the bunks. The few rat droppings we'd seen about the place was nothing to the collection we found between the mattresses and the slats of the top bunks. We cringed to think that a few nights ago, according to the log book, this hut had been full; what was falling on the people sleeping on the bottom bunks when the people on the top bunks moved...?!
In minutes we'd hauled the mattresses (standard DOC PVC plastic-covered thankfully) outside to air, and I began sweeping with the broken end of a broom we found in the corner of the hut. I tried not to raise too much dust, but it was difficult (I blew my nose afterwards and what came out was enough to make me inhale a drop of hand sanitiser in each nostril).
Finally I'd swept all the bunks and the floor and swept everything that didn't fall through the gaps between the floor boards out the door. I also wiped down the mattresses. I was encouraged by the fact that none of the rat droppings looked fresh...perhaps Mr Rat didn't live here anymore and it was simply that weeks' worth of hikers just hadn't bothered to look under the mattresses and every now and then some of the cumulates had dropped out on the floor, fueling the legend of Mr Rat...? I could only hope.
Taylor and I sat outside at the picnic table (damp!) to allow the dust to settle. We had an early dinner (meaning he munched all afternoon and I eventually got out pot and gas canister and cooked pasta). We talked some more about life and things that make you change how you approach it. Apparently he is always being told to "be positive". I laughed as I know through my own bitter experience how impossible that is, especially when you're not already in a positive frame of mind (once you are it's a lot easier!). I find it interesting, and a little unfortunate, that what Taylor looks forward to most thru-hiking is town days, when he gets to eat whatever he wants, have a rest, and check out the town. I look forward to being in the forest, up mountains, or sitting having lunch by a nice little stream. Don't get me wrong, I look forward to town as well (fresh food! Shower!! Bed!!!), but I guess the point is there's something in every aspect of thru-hiking for me to enjoy, not just one. Every person, every bird, every unusual plant, and yes...every rock...sparks my interest (unless I'm really tired and then I often couldn't care less either...unless it's something really unusual, fortunately then I can usually still be inspired). Even the really awful sections of track I enjoy on some level because I'm able to do it. I'm able to get through it and out the other end, bruised, muddy, and knackered, but I've made progress, I've beaten the nasty track, and there's a sense of accomplishment in that (that must be the bit I enjoy; I'm no masochist).
But it doesn't seem so for Taylor. I can't help feeling he's missing out. I know birds and rocks aren't for everyone, but surely the mere fact that he's thru-hiking a second time means there was something in it that inspires him?
It's a tough question to answer, when people ask you "what made you decide to do Te Araroa?". My default answer has become "I needed some exercise", mostly for the amusement value this seems to have for the questioner, but while that is a part of it, it's only a small part of something much larger that I don't really understand myself. The idea just appealed to me, and it grew on me until there were far more reasons to do it than not, and I simply had to give it a try.
At one point Taylor asked if my recent experience of my Dad passing away had altered my approach to life, which gave me pause to think. Yes, it has. I may not be doing this now if it hadn't. Even though Dad 'had a good run' (as they say), there's no escaping the fact that life is finite and that there simply will never be enough time to do all the things you'd like to do (well, if you're like me and have an endless laundry list of stuff). Therefore I'm very conscious of the fact that I don't want to waste time doing things that don't enrich my life in some way. "There's always tomorrow" is a good approach when you're stressing out at work over something that needs to be done, but it's no way to approach life. Fact is, tomorrow is not guaranteed and metaphorically it comes around a hell of a lot quicker than you realise. I'm nearly thirty for crying out loud...when did that happen?! Consequently Dad's passing has helped me become a lot less mentally fettered by things that society in general seems to have engrained within us. I don't want I get trapped into a job just for the sake of earning money to pay off a mortgage etc. If the job isn't satisfying I'll do something else. Fortunately I've never been too hung up on the whole marriage and kids aspect of life, but I still used to have the odd moment of feeling like those things were 'passing me by', however it doesn't really bother me now.
If something insane comes along that looks like an awesome experience (like walking the length of NZ...?) I'm a lot less inclined now to find the obstacles, and a lot more inclined just to bite the bullet and give it a go. Life's too short not to. Maybe such things are a luxury not everybody can afford (and maybe I won't be able to for long either...?), but I'm determined to make the most of them for as long as I can.
And if that means sleeping in a rat-infested hut, wearing clothes caked in sweat and eating a pasta snack for dinner with a broken plastic spork--so be it. Bring it on!
--END evening's introspection--
...it seems I'm getting a lot out of my discussions with Taylor. I only hope he is as well!
D&M'd out we adjourned to the hut, returning the mattresses to the bunks and trying in vain to light the fire; even with a good dose of Taylor's methylated spirits the available wood was just too wet to burn. Still, we left some wood inside to dry so that future hut dwellers might have more luck.
I should have done some blogging but I'd typed up an entire entry over dinner only to lose it when I accidentally shut the app without saving it. Consequently I was in no mood to type it all out again right away.
Taylor opted for a top bunk--I think he was still grossed out by the bottom ones--and I went for the alternate bottom one (I had cleaned after all, and it's less far to fall if I accidentally roll out...which has been known to happen). It was quite fun making use of the various candle brackets and couple of candles on hand while we pottered about (at least they burnt and gave off a pleasant glow even if the fire would not!). But the light faded outside and no one else turned up so it wasn't long before we snuffed the candles and settled down to sleep. I intended to keep an ear out for Mr Rat, just in case, and I suspect Taylor intended to do the same, since he had gone to the trouble of securing his food in his pack and hanging it from the roof...
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