December 17, 2023
The tears were there and it surprised me.
Step 1 of 76,620 steps.
With only a few hundred steps left of the 76,620 steps taken in the previous five days, I was humbled that my body could gather enough hydration to eek out a tear to support the emotions of having completed the Abel Tasman Track. But it did. And I did it…Well, WE did it. Although, in the end, I took those 76,000+ steps myself, Nick almost doubled that amount by making sure he was always at my side as we hit the steep uphills and downhills.
The Abel Tasman Track is a trek (hike) along the stunning north-east coast of the South Island. Named for Dutch seafarer and explorer Abel Janszoon Tasman who was the first European “to see” New Zealand…not that he ever set foot on land…but he did “see it” and after some misunderstandings with the Maori inhabitants, he sailed away. That was 1642. How Tasman received the honor of this spectacular park to hold his name into posterity is a puzzlement.
We arrived 10:00 am at the Wilson’s Tour office in Motueka, about an hour from Nelson, to meet up with the bus. Our two guides, Rod and Finn, greeted us and filled in the many questions we pounded them with. With our valuables locked in the office safe, we boarded the bus. Joining us on this five day tour were a dozen other folks, mostly couples from England, Australia, and New Zealand. I had no idea I was riding on a bus with future friends.
We hopped off the bus and onto the Wilson boat that heads north from Kaiteriteri, at the south end of the Abel Tasman Park to Totoranui at the north end then turns around and heads south back to Kaiteriteri, stopping at beaches timed for the hikers along the way. It allows for trampers (hikers) to choose which legs of the trek they will take, although prior arrangements must be made or the boat won’t necessarily stop.
L: Split Apple Rock on the way up the coast. Granite was quarried from the Abel Tasman coast in the early part of the 1900s and used to build some of the buildings in Nelson. R: Sometimes a trail…sometimes Mother Nature takes it away.
The two-hour ride up the coast entranced us with the beauty of the steep, heavily vegetated coastline, but put a small niggling drop of fear in us as we considered the long plunge from the imagined track into the crystal, turquoise waters below. And just to add a tad more fear, the jungle-ish vegetation was occasionally scarred by a straight granite face where the hill had given way to the elements. Certainly the trail would be re-routed, right?
Fur seals, rock formations, dolphins, and sea birds entertained us. Each time the boat pulled into a beach, a small group of folks would disembark from the boat and sometimes a few hikers would embark. Arriving at Totoranui, we gathered at the DOC (Department of Conservation) hut, got our first instructions and headed off.
Our first task on Day One was to walk from Totoarnui to the Meadow Bank homestead where we would spent the night. A “shorter” day as we didn’t get on the trail until about 2:00. The 9 km (5.6 mile) walk was “mostly” relatively flat. Until it wasn’t. Due to storms that washed out some of the trail, the trail was re-routed in parts, adding to our distance and often to the elevations. None of the elevations along the entire track relate in height to those that Nick and his brother Mark will face on the Milford Track going over the Southern Alps in January, however, the trail was quite steep for a good 1/2 hour at a time that left me huffing, dripping with sweat, and wondering what kind of emergency services were available and if I had cell coverage. And that was only the first hour.
I quickly fell behind the group but Nick never left my side. Just as the track got very narrow and steep with a decided drop off to the waters below, one of our guides, Rod was there to offer advice, offer a hand, assure me that I could make the next step, and generally kept me laughing and smiling which distracted me (at times) from the 100 meter drops. About two hours into that first day, with Nick and Rod encouraging me, we turned a corner and the trail was gone, at least from my standpoint. Most of the trail had already headed back to the ocean to eventually become a beautiful beach, but for this moment, I wanted the rock to be beneath my feet in a safe 36″ path. What was there was enough for my single foot with my trusty Hoka attached. It was at that moment that my acrophobia took on the dimensions of a horror movie and I informed Rod of that issue, as if being overweight and under-active weren’t enough.
Just another stunning view from the trail.
Rod, a wise 22-year old born with empathy to spare, looked me in the eye and quietly told me that I could do it. It was one of those moments that you know will stick with you. Truthfully, there was literally no way to back down. An alternative would have been a swan dive into the cool clear waters and that was only slightly tempting as the sweat dripped into my eyes, until Rod, as if reading my mind, reminded me that the paperwork he would face would be endless. In the end, I took the step. I made it to the safety of a 12″ trail and let my heart rate slow back to a doable 100 beats per minute.
There were many very steep uphill climbs with steep drop-offs, but Nick and/or Rod were there with just the right amount of support without making me feel inadequate. I gathered strength not only from the climb but from the confidence that I could do it.
Relaxing the first night after those first 17,000 steps. Note the wine, beer, and beginning of a blister.
16,186 steps later we arrived at the Meadow Bank Lodge where they had delayed dinner so we would have time to take a shower and join our fellow trampers who had arrived earlier. The stories started and the personalities of our tour mates made us realize we were in this with a great group.
Day Two we explored around Awaroa. The most fun, for me was the first walk of the day which, because it was high tide, required us to walk about a kilometer through the tidal waters to the trail head that would take us over the head and back down to the lodge. I kept thinking about Katherine Hepburn with Spencer Tracer in the African Queen as we walked through the sometimes thigh-high water. I was quite happy that leeches were not a part of the walk.
Nick in his element.
That afternoon, at low tide, we headed across the vast bay on the other side that was now a mud flat so we could find the steam engine that had been used at the turn of the century when logging was happening in the area. This was a no brainer for Nick…a rusty old steam engine sitting in the verdant green, tropical-ish woods. Nick showed everyone how it worked. He was in his place. By the end of the day, I was feeling the 18,357 steps l had taken that day and ready for another lovely dinner.
The serious walking day was Day Three: 20 km (12.4 mi) broken up into three sections. Consulting with what I now considered my personal guide/trainer/guardian angel, Rod, he suggested that we take advantage of the beach boat pickup and walk the first section (which turned out to be 20,939 steps or 7.4 miles), both of us take the boat over the next, particularly difficult middle section, then Nick could get off the boat to walk the final section while I stayed on the boat until our next destination at Torrent Bay Lodge. The timing worked out great and by the time I had showered at the lodge, Nick had covered the 7 km (4.3 miles) in no time without waiting for me. Nick was thrilled to have a chance to test his meddle. And he passed with flying colors.
L: On the trail…one of the wonderfully wide, not steep patches. R: Guardian angel/guide Rod explains that each ring of this palm represents two years. Rod constantly gave flora and fauna lessons as we hiked, amazingly timed for when I needed a short rest.
Exploring Torrent Bay included kayaking across the bay and up a river to Cleopatra’s Pool, a stunning waterfall which includes a natural waterslide that drops you into Cleopatra’s Pool. Given the slippery rocks, and the fact that we still had one more day of hiking, I watched from a rock on the side of the stream as Nick emerged drenched and grinning from his plunge.
Nick escapes from Cleopatra’s icy clutches.
Kayaking back, through the crystal waters, we watched many stingrays dart along the golden sandy bottom and schools of fish dart away in perfect time. The steps for the day barely broke 4,000, but the kayaking kept us thinking of our Mother’s Day outings of Nick’s family and the Grandpa’s Floatilla for his August birthday, canoeing adventures on the Gualala River with my family.
Kayaking from Cleopatra’s Pool.
Day Five: our last day. Once again, we consulted Rod about the best route for us. The full day of walking would have included 16 km (10 miles), the beginning of which was considered very steep. Walking up or even down wasn’t so much the issue as the fact that I was slow. Very slow on any steep incline [which is why I am sitting comfortably writing this email without an injury, unless you count the blisters]. My speed would hinder the group AND the total distance might be more than I could handle. So this time, we caught the northbound boat and rode north to top of the park and back south to a beach where we could meet up with our group, of which half were walking and the other half kayaking.
Dolphins showing off that they don’t have to face the trail.
Through the magic of our guides, we all met up and took on the last of our track. The first hour or two was challenging, but the trail was wide, allowing my fear factor to dissipate. The last hour or two were relatively flat and matched the description my sister Susan and her husband William had given of the Abel Tasman track when they did it in the late 1990s….a lovely walk along the coastline with the water lapping not far away.
Our new best friends on the beach at Torrent Bay Lodge on our last night before the final hike. Right behind me to the left is our guide Rod and to his left in the back row is our other guide Finn.
I was not prepared for the tears. I guess I understood how far I had pushed myself and succeeded. I also realized I was remembering my sister Jenny, who I know would have been there, and maybe was…sort of a Jiminy Cricket whispering in my ear, that I was capable. As we sat down in the cafe at the end of the trail with 12,964 steps for that day, with all of my new best friends sharing a beer and plenty of laughter, I raised my glass to Jenny, on what would have been her 70th birthday. Of course, with Jen, it would have been champagne…
Wendy, NgAmamku, and Nick after step 76,620 of 76,620 steps in 5 days.
~Wendy and Nick
Addendum to Days 34 to 38: Abel Tasman
Written on January 22, 2024
If you read my Abel Tasman account, you will remember my “guardian angel” who helped me through the walk, believing in me and giving me the added confidence I needed to continue. Rod Morrison was that angel.
A week or so ago, an article written by Justin Meneguzzi about the Abel Tasman trail was posted by National Geographic. Meneguzzi had just walked the Abel Tasman trail and had many quotes from his guide: Rod Morrison, our guide. Below is a link to the short article to give you all another viewpoint. Rod’s encyclopedic knowledge kept us engaged, and sometimes distracted from my perceived perils. Enjoy the read!
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/travel/article/hiking-abel-tasman-national-park-new-zealand
~Wendy and Nick