The Sunday Times May 1, 2022 7
CLAIRE’S EPIC
HIKE IN NUMBERS
26
15
22
2
13 2
8
most miles
covered in
one day
kilograms
carried
nights
spent
camping
pairs of
boots worn
out
wild
swims
jars of
peanut
butter
consumed
wasp
stings
snack bar
stolen by
native
parrots
1
stumbling out of the forest my tramping
companions and I were greeted by a local
who pointed at his pick-up truck: “Want
me to drive you to the pub?”
The penultimate day followed the
curve of the coast, fighting a headwind
as a trio of horse riders thundered past
through the surf. I was reminded of where
I began some months ago, on a beach at
the other end of the country.
At last there was Bluff. It’s an
unassuming place: industrial at the edges,
a hostel in the shell of the old post office,
and a couple of pubs (only one of them
open), but the regulars at the bar are
friendly and unfazed by trampers. One
of them offered to teach us some skills at
the pool table, while handles (pints) of
Speight’s — “Pride of the South” — were
enthusiastically drained. Through the
window the sunset burnt the sky a deep
gold and I realised I wanted to
keep going; to discover more
of the back country, seek
out more trails. I’d spent
months exploring
them yet I’d hardly
scratched the surface.
And all this time I
thought that New
Zealand was small. I
hardly knew the place.
Claire Nelson’s
first book, Things
I Learned from
Falling, is out now.
For information,
maps and trail notes
see teararoa.org.nz
pg
enthusiastically draine
window the sunset bur
gold and I reali
keep going
of the ba
out m
mon
the
scr
And
tho
Zea
hard
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