It was a short drive to Marlborough girls where I switched into a second shuttle driven by a guy named Andy who was doing a regular run taking girls through to Nelson for a course. Fortunately for me Havelock is on the way and I would be slotting in and being dropped off at the hall to resume the trail. While we waited to depart I met the school principal who had come to see the girls off. She was interested in my exploits and asked after my blog, so hello if you're reading this! (Sorry it's taken me so long to type up!).
Before long we were motoring out of Blenheim. I sat up front with Andy and chatted to him; he's lived in Blenheim 46 years and consequently remembers Blenheim "before the grapes". For my part I couldn't even imagine Blenheim as an apple orchard town minus the great swathes of vineyards that it has today!
Andy dropped me at the Havelock Hall steps. Before setting off I sat and strapped my feet (there was to be some road walking this morning) and also second-breakfasted on all the food that couldn't fit in my pack (two peaches and a muffin).
One thing I've been wanting to get and keep forgetting to buy is superglue, so I tried the Four Square on the way out of town, but they only had 2-packs and directed me to the tackle shop across the street--success! Finally I set off down the shoulder of SH6, heading west!
Fortunately it's not far before TA leaves the highway and follows the gravel Hoiere Rd that is much less trafficked (you only have to dodge the odd logging truck and farm ute) and crosses the river in two bridges, one either side of the valley. I stopped for a snack at the intersection with Kaiune Bay Rd beyond bridge No. 2. The road here has kilometre markers so setting off once again I was able to count down my progress as I walked.
The road undulates along the edge of the Pelorous River valley, through farmland and flanking forestry blocks on the neighbouring hills (alive at one point with the sound of active tree felling). At some point a car loaded with women and backpacks came toward me and stopped to chat in thick European (Scandanavian?) accents. They were heading out to the eastern end of the road to do a short multi-day walk and wished me best of luck with TA.
I stopped for another break in a paddock that had an old stile leading over the fence and an old trail marker on a fence post. There was nowhere on the narrow shoulder to stop so taking the stile and marker as a sign that I *might* not be trespassing I went and sat in the shade under some large kahikatea-like trees to munch a museli bar and slurp a juicy orange. Not 100% sure I was allowed to be where I was however I kept an eye out for the farmer, and wrapped up my break pretty quickly when I heard a quadbike approaching in the neighbouring paddock.
A few kilometres down the road, during which timed I daydreamed up another scene for my story, I arrived at Dalton's Bridge. There was an old campervan parked here beside the road looking lived in but showing no sign of life. I strode past and up and over the stile onto Dalton's track in the paddock beyond (I use the term "onto" loosely as it is little more than a marked route along the edge of a series of paddocks lining the river bank...still, my gratitude to the landowners; without this track we'd be walking SH6 all the way to Pelorus Bridge!).
Happily the paddocks, though housing cattle were not puggy and I was able to make good time. I stopped for lunch under a large kahikatea, sitting on the small patch of ground that seemed the clearest of cow manure. Still every now and then a breeze whipped up and blew specks of dried God-knows-exactly-what into and over all my stuff. I was careful to keep all my food bags closed and secreted away in my pack after the first gust...
Setting off again I traversed paddock after paddock, mostly grass, but some with crops of cattle feed (turnips etc). Near the western end the route cuts down and up short sections of beaten track across small gullies and I stopped in the shade of one to have afternoon tea. If it sounds like in having a lot of breaks today you'd be right. I have a lot normally anyway, but having just resupplied my pack is on the heavy side and breaks serve two purposes: to rest, and to lighten the load by eating more food!
The last kilometre of track before reaching Pelorus Bridge is a beautiful native bush walk along broad forest pathway which forms part of a loop walk accessible from the road. The only thing that spoiled it was a large feral ginger cat that had been hunting in the undergrowth until it caught sight of me and fled. I was torn between wanting a trap to put a stop to it feasting on native birds, and being sorry it wasn't the cuddly sort of cat I could take up in my arms and scratch its ears. In that moment I really missed my cat.
At the bridge I left TA and crossed the river to the cafe and campground in the other side. I've only just resupplied so the good lining the cabinets must have looked genuinely scrumptious; I settled on a can of Fresh Up, a caramel slice 'bite' and an ice cream. Outside a young girl was gearing up for an epic tantrum and eventually was whisked away by the group of adults who hastily finished their afternoon tea. It was not much past 3pm and I could've gone further today, but here was a nice place to stay and so I stayed put.
The campground office is adjacent to the main cafe and I sat at a table outside waiting for the British guy at
the window to finish checking in. He took forever and I wondered if he was trying to negotiate a rate. Seeing an opportunity (perhaps Billy and Mario have rubbed off on me a little) I offered to share a campsite with him with my small tent and split the cost, but it turns out the $15 charge is per tent, not per campsite so I went back to my caramel slice to wait.
When the window was free I got up to check in again but was only half way through when the phone rang. I indicated the lady at the counter should answer and sat down nearby to wait again when it transpired that it might be a long conversation. From what I overheard it sounded like a reporter or some other interested party was asking the lady her opinion on people free camping in the area. She answered candidly enough but eventually flashed me a shy smile as she closed the window to prevent me from hearing what was said; I assume she launched into some kind of tirade about 'entrepreneurial' TA hikers trying to wiggle out of paying any kind of fees. I sympathise with campground owners, and with hikers (being one myself!). It's a delicate and often difficult balance between giving people their due financial credit for the facilities they provide and having enough money to keep doing that to everyone you encounter for six months. Thank goodness for the people who have taken me in on the trail or else I'd have run out of money eons ago! Really, thank you!!
Finally I was able to check in and given directions to where the 'walkers' camp. I gathered my things and set off down the gravel road through native bush to the campground. It's a lovely spot, but unfortunately all the nice riverside (and sunny) sites are reserved for car-campers. I found the sunniest spot I could in the 'walker' area, trying to anticipate where the sun will be to maximise tent exposure. Afterall, even when dry, a sunny tent us so much nicer than a shady one.
I had a shower (ok, it's $15 but the facilities ARE good), then retired to the kitchen/dining area to try and do some blogging. I wasn't surprised that not many TAers names were in the logbook, but a few were.
Over dinner I got chatting to the guy from the UK and a couple from Moab in Utah, USA. Mum and I drove through there on our trip to the States last year and I was interested to learn the guy was an artist based in Moab. I wondered if I'd seen his work while I was there! His wife was here for a work conference--hence their whirlwind trip to NZ--but was also taking the opportunity to be a shoe tester for a outdoor footwear manufacturer. Rather than wearing each pair of shoes separately she had been hiking wearing one of each, one kind on one foot, and the mate from the other pair on the other. Fortunately the shoes were quite similar so she wasn't experiencing any trouble from differing foot support etc., but she definitely had a preference, for the look of one pair and the comfort and wear of the other. Isn't that always the way? Conversely, the guy from the UK was using severance pay from his position as a consultant in business efficiency to come out to explore New Zealand. I was glad to hear they were all having a great time here. We kept chatting after dinner, over a communal desert offering of chocolate, cookies and wine.
Eventually it was time to hit the hay. I resolved to have another shower in the morning...it's back to huts tomorrow and the shower is too good not to make the most if it!
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