In spite of the dramatic differences in terrain between New Zealand's North and South Islands, there is a strange symmetry to Te Araroa. Entering Southland, it’s not far to the edge of Longwood Forest, mirroring the dense mud of Ratea and Pirongia. Further south, the trail drops down to the southern coast, where it undulates between sheep pastures high on the cliffs and the rocky beaches below. There is even a long, open beach to remind hikers of their first days on Northland’s 90 Mile Beach (luckily, we survived this one without a hailstorm). A stretch of urban wasteland and some good old-fashioned highway walking complete the deja vu, bringing back nightmares from Mercer and Huntly.
Needless to say, Southland was not our favorite stretch of the trail. There were, however, still some moments of beauty in these final miles.
Leaving Te Anau, Southland gave us a lovely day of forest walking, interspersed with massive tussock fields where the grass was often well over my head.
Saying goodbye to the mountains from Princhester Hut near Te Anau
photo/ Molly
Tussock that goes on forever
photo/ Jonathan
Eventually, the tussock gave way to the plushest, lushest carpet of peat bog squishing underfoot. It was wet and a bit oily, but altogether pleasing to walk on (I’m not totally sure why the water is oily in these bogs, but a quick search suggests that it could be a result of anaerobic microbes releasing methane. If you know more, please write a comment and explain more!).
Miles of oily peat bog squishing underfoot
photo/ Jonathan
From the bog, we climbed a steep trail shaded by leafy beech trees to find a perfect rainbow framing the ridgeline behind us. A storm was coming in fast from the south, but we took a moment to enjoy our last high point before beginning our gradual descent toward the ocean.
A rainbow before the storm
photo/ Jonathan
Taking in our last moments up high
photo/ Jonathan
Longwood forest was also much prettier than was advertised by the hikers heading north (I believe one of them referred to it as a “muddy wreckage”). Of course, those lil' baby northbounders had yet to encounter the slip-n'-slide down Pirongia, so I suppose we'll have to forgive them. I won’t say it was bone dry, but really, most of the forest was quite charming.
Ok, not this part. This part wasn't that charming.
photo/ Molly
Deep in Longwood, we even stumbled upon some amazing trail magic from another hiker, Blair, who had carried a full cooler of goodies up to an old hut. We caught him refilling the cooler, so naturally, we sat down to share a cold beer and swap trail stories, as hikers are wont to do. Blair was preparing for the PCT, so we reminisced about good times while offering up some advice (mostly concerning town food and which buffets to avoid most strenuously).
The most beautiful and most surreal moment of our final days on the trail occurred during the last sunrise of the trip. Ready to reach the end, we woke up at 2:30am to catch low tide on the 15 mile long Oreti Beach Track from Riverton to Invercargill. For hours, we walked along the wide, flat sand in near-complete darkness. Then, just as the first flush of magenta appeared on the horizon, a string of strange creatures appeared along the shoreline. We squinted, but couldn’t figure out what it was that was advancing so quickly toward us. Slowly, we began to hear the pounding of hooves and before we really knew what was happening, three horse-drawn chariots flew past us, racing down the beach.
Look very closely and you can see a horse and chariot just below the street lamp.
photo/ Jonathan
For better or for worse, the rest of that final day was about as lackluster as they come. We shared suburban sidewalks with a hoard of school children and then passed through a torrid estuary, followed by the scenic Invercargill wastewater treatment plant. It was raining as we turned onto Highway 1. their abundant wisdom, the Te Araroa Trust decided that instead of ending the trail at the ocean, hikers needed to experience the infinite joys of New Zealand's largest shipping route. After the highway, the epic journey ended with a very wet road walk into the weird little town of Bluff.
Good thing we didn't miss the industrial district!
photo/ Jonathan
In the pouring rain, the end of our adventure was almost comically anticlimactic. And to be honest, neither of us cared very much.
I think the end of a thruhike is always a bit of a funny thing, because it's never the best part of the trip. If it is, I suspect you're doing something wrong. But this trail in particular has an ending that feels like a senior slump. No epic summit on Mt. Katahdin, no clear-cut border into the Canadian wilderness. Just a strange little monument in a strange little town that most people only go through to get to somewhere else.
No, we preferred to think back on the highlights of our trip: the moonscapes of Tongariro National Park and our spectacular summit day on Taranaki, the first views of the Southern Alps from the gorgeous Richmond Ranges and watching wild horses run in Nelson Lakes. In 95 days, we mountain biked through Rotorua, canoed the Whanganui River, and climbed up a waterfall (or several) on our way to Arthur's Pass. We also met some ridiculously amazing people who helped us along the way.
Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along on the weird, wild ride that has been Te Araroa. And an extra special thanks to all of our magnificent friends spread across New Zealand: our journey would not have been the same without you.
If there's anything you'd like to hear more about from our trip or if you have questions about the TA in general, let us know in the comments or shoot us an email (captainsofus@gmail.com). We're taking a little break from blogging, now, while we're beginning some new adventures, but we promise that we'll be back soon with more stories and photos from New Zealand and beyond.
Happy trails,
Molly and Jonathan