What began as a beautiful trek transformed into a gruelling endeavour. Our plan was to take a two-hour jet boat tour to the end of the Abel Tasman trail and leisurely walk back to our car. The guidebook said the 22 mile trek included only 500 feet elevation change and could ‘reasonably’ be completed in 3-4 days. The description continued stating that the trek was well trodden and included a variety of terrain such as sandy beaches, estuary crossings, and smooth bush trails.
We started our trek with smiles on our faces as we hopped from the boat at Mutton Cove, a peaceful beach five miles beyond the regular route. As the boat driver handed us our packs, he exclaimed, “Ugh! You’ll have shorter legs before you’re done, mate. This is the heaviest pack I’ve felt all year!”
With that cheerful comment we were left standing at the shoreline. After a few quick pictures we were off to our first campsite. Walking with heavy packs (30lbs and 50lbs) on soft sand quickly turned an easy passage into one hell of a workout. 500 yards behind us and we were already panting in the heat. As the trek progressed we were rewarded with stunning views and an unsettling realization that each scenic bay was sandwiched between steep mountain ridges. Six hours later we arrived at our first ‘beach’ campsite. Unfortunately it was located 50 yards into the bush infested with sand flies.
There’s a Maori legend about these pesky little critters that states: When the natives first arrived in New Zealand, life was too easy. Food and shelter was plentiful and the climate mild, so the Maori people became very lazy. This angered the chief, who wanted his people to be productive, so he asked the gods for an antidote. The gods answered the chief’s request by sending tiny biting sand flies, which quickly attack anything not moving. Today this legend lives large. We had to laugh at the irony of our situation: We’d come so far to enjoy nature only to be imprisoned by it!
We awoke early (6 am) after a night of little sleep. The resident possums had discovered that backpackers provide yummy morsels of food and scrounged around our tent all night. The second day’s trek included two large estuaries, which could only be crossed two hours on either side of low tide (7:30 am). A treat after our first early morning crossing was a nice hot breakfast at the only lodge near the trail. By this time our sandals had given us blisters where the sand and water rubbed our feet raw. So we laced up our boots, reduced our weight by giving away non-essential food to the staff, and raced off to the second estuary crossing. After 6 more hours of continuous trudging we arrived at our second campsite to find that all the sites were full. Too exhausted to continue, we pitched our tent half on the trail and half into the downhill bushes. This night we slept soundly regardless of the location.
Day three began with a slow start to ease our aching feet. After breakfast we put on our packs and Dale affectionately named his “the beast”. Our highlight of the day was a rest at Cleopatra’s pool, our lunch stop. The distance to cover this day was shorter, and although the elevation change was only 500 feet, the trail seemed to constantly climb and descend. The easy way out of the hike – an expensive water taxi – was beginning to look more appealing. But, since we’d made it this far we decided to finish the hike by foot. Dale was like a pack mule rushing to the barn, suddenly finding energy as we approached our last night’s destination. This campsite was the most beautiful yet – a secluded beach with only three other tents. A Kiwi family on their water ski boat was the only thing to break the tranquillity. We tried to buy a beer off them, but they thought we were joking and just laughed.
As daylight broke on our final morning, it began to lightly rain. We quickly munched our granola bars and slurped our mini fruit box drinks in order to pack the tent before the downpour. Wisely we had brought waterproof pants, jackets, and pack covers, all of which were necessary for our final three hours on the trail. That night we rewarded ourselves to a nice B&B with a hot tub to pamper our aching bodies. The hot tub had broken the day before, but a shower, bed, and rest after four days without was treat enough.
It may seem that we didn’t enjoy any part of our Abel Tasman trek. At one of our more frustrating moments Dale commented, “Someday we’ll smile and laugh when we look back on this experience”. We did both as we wrote this story.
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