The End

I forced myself to wake up in the wet, black, night of a morning. Headlamp clumsily slanted over my rain jacket and hat. Shit. Battery's almost dead, just like my bloody feet. I had to wrap my tent over the ridiculously gigantic souvenir I so intelligently purchased for my last day on trail. This word cyclone vibrates fear through my veins, but it's really just a little synonym for storm.

I left early. So early that it was almost yesterday. Eerie silence. Calm and quiet. Just me and the moon. I was prepared. Five Bumper Bars and two bags of gummies in my right side pouch, a Red Bull on the left with my water bottle and countless hard candies hidden in the hip belt in case of emergency. I sat in front of the library to steal a few minutes of free wifi before running down the beach, at probably my fastest pace to date. It was going to be a 60 km kind of day, and I had to make it to The End, as my travel arrangements were booked for the following morning.

Someone was looking out for me because I tell ya, not a drop of water wet me nor my clothes for the first 25 k's. I was followed by a perfect blue circle of light... Rain pouring in all directions except for straight above. And then, the sunrise... The beautiful ocean sunrise. This brought tears to my eyes. I gave my momma a fat hug and grin, feeling her warm smile as she watched me with pride and joy for how far I've come.

A lovely local named Jason offered me a ride into town once I hit the road walking section, just two minutes before the absolute downpour. He's the frontman for an ACDC cover band and has the sweetest pit bull I've ever seen. Nine k's later and what do you know, my old hiking pal 10-Speed met me with the famed French Laura to lighten my pack and re-hike into Bluff.

We made it. We did. It was exactly 1.5 million miles from start to finish, filled with an abundance of blood, sweat, mud and tears. Actually, it was mostly filled with laughs, but that's not how the saying goes. The last day on a thru hike is always the best, and this one proved right. I wish I could leave you with some profound words of wisdom upon reaching my end point, but right now I only have one thing on my mind and it's that ITS TIME TO CELEBRATE! 

Best Idea Ever... Almost

When I say that there's a lot of road waking on this trip, I really mean it. According to my notes, I had 80 more km's to go before I hit the trail again and genius me convinced the hostel to loan us 2 bicycles for a small fee. They even agreed to pick them up at the next town. PERFECT!!! In theory, that was...

It was a complete disaster. I don't really know how to ride a bike, but that was a minor detail next to the fact that only 3 of my numb fingers could reach the handlebars. My pack became unbearable, it felt like I was carrying the sinking Statue of Liberty... All the responsibility of something noble and grand melting away into the hot sticky asphalt. I'm not ready to talk about the bike seat... Just know that I wanted to stitch my legs together, sleep with raw meat on my bum and never sit in a chair again. This feeling lasted nearly a week. Oh, and to top things off, my hiking partner (10-Speed) just happens to be a retired professional cyclist... What was that? You used to bike 25,000 kms a year?! Great. I remember a point when we were on a flat farm road with zero traffic and he had to push my back to keep me moving forward when he noticed my quivering legs. After nearly passing out on a 3 meter high hill, I knew I was in trouble.

There was a cafe, there was a phone call, and there was one last bus to Palmerston North. I only made it 35 kms before giving in to the feeling of utter defeat. Sometimes I'm happy to be humbled down, to realize that I'm not as strong and invincible as I originally think.

White Water Christmas

I was worried about spending Christmas alone in this distant country, worried of wallowing in the bitter nostalgia of my mothers memories. I was worried that I would cry myself to sleep in a soggy cold tent with nothing to eat but instant noodles saturated with MSG.

Merry Xmas

The stars must have aligned because this Christmas was one of the best of my silly little life.

Eatin like 3 Kings

I met Lucky Luke, 10-Speed and Julian in town and we hopped on the idea of spending the holidays together for a seven day canoe trip down the Whanganui River. It was perfect timing, as I just got my first shin splint and needed a week's rest to recover. Armed with 10 barrels of food and booze, we paddled towards the sea singing Christmas carols and being merry. 

Nase des Manes

​Beautiful... Indescribably beautiful.

Waterfront property

There was so much good that happened on this trip, I really don't know where to begin. I can start with the cheesy egg, bacon and butter breakfast... I packed out 24 eggs, oh yes I did. Then there was the torrential downpour we somehow avoided at the Blue Duck Cafe. How about the Christmas tinsel and tacky Santa hats? That one's for you mom. We only flipped twice in the rapids and what a blessing to have a healthy stomach after swallowing 4 gallons of polluted water. No giardia for the holidays! Oh, and my Swiss-German language lessons... I can now curse, talk about big noses and the full moon. And yes, there was a full moon on Christmas, too. Julian caught us an eel on our final night, and we smoked it for one last meal together.

The smoking eel

If I've learned anything, it's that worrying doesn't do a damn thing.