Tramping through Water

- Cindy Leavitt

My husband, Mark, and I chose to complete the Routeburn Track based on our desire to see the amazing vistas advertised on the web site and our belief that it would be fairly easy. “Tramping,” aka hiking, is very popular across New Zealand. There are campsites and bunk houses one day’s journey apart throughout New Zealand’s national parks that are used all year long. We chose to do the guided hike, which meant that we would be staying in private lodges with beds, electricity, warm showers and excellent food. All we needed to carry was a daypack with our clothes and essential personal items that would be needed for the three days that we would be hiking.

I started the hike in a grumpy mood. It was raining and the forecast called for rain over the entire three days. I was feeling herded and not appreciating being part of a large group. I was using a borrowed rubber jacket and backpack with an orange rain pack from the touring company, which was helpful in keeping me dry, but made me feel like I was part of a giant orange turtle army. The first optional vista hike was so socked in by clouds that all vistas were hidden. And I was hot despite the weather, because I had purchased and was wearing an extra base layer that was suggested by the touring company. Generally I was feeling annoyed and uncomfortable.

The day got much better as the group split apart naturally and I adjusted my layers so I was comfortable. Mark suggested that we try walking meditation to fully appreciate the moment. That brought clarity to how blessed we were to be on the journey and allowed me to appreciate the breathtaking beauty. We were in the deep rain forest with vibrant moss growing on the trees and rocks. One of the guides walked with us for a long time and answered our questions about the plants, birds, and animals.

As we progressed through the day, I started to get very worried about Mark. Mark has limited mobility in his left ankle because of some nerve damage, and so uneven surfaces are painful for him. He loves to hike and be outside, and so is always trying to balance his desire to do these kinds of activities with how much pain he will be able to manage. As we started to descend into the valley where the lodge was located, the trail became much more difficult. It was very steep and rocky. Mark was in serious pain and I realized that we did not have a Plan B. We were going to need to walk out and we were only on the first of three days of hiking.

The hot shower felt miraculous when we finally made it to the lodge.  That evening, I nursed Mark with ibuprofen, good food and wine, massage, and a comfortable bed. The lodge had facilities to hand wash and dry our clothing, so we were dry and comfortable when we headed out in the morning. Mark’s ankle was doing well. The forecast called for heavy rain, but the group was cheered by the relatively good visibility that allowed us to see the mountains that surrounded the valley.

The “turtle army” made its way with relative ease to the first break point where we were instructed by our guides to don our winter hats and gloves. As we moved to the exposed face of the mountain, we were plummeted by stinging rain and gust of wind that threatened to turn our backpack covers into parasails.

We were soaked from the rain and spontaneous streams were springing up along our path. My favorite moment of the trip happened as I was studiously mapping my course over one of these streams, trying to figure out how I could avoid getting my boots soaked. As my gaze went to the other side of the spontaneous stream, my eyes met those of a beautiful elderly woman, whose white curly hair was poking out of her rain cap. She was smiling and said in a kind voice, “You might as well tramp through it, you are already wet!” 

I laughed and realized how much energy I had been expending trying to avoid stepping in the water when I was already soaked. I took her advice and from that moment on tramped through the water, knowing that the water was taking the easiest path that I could follow.

After lunch, we were rewarded with the most incredible view as numerous waterfalls cascaded down from all sides of the valley and fed the rushing river. The path became a stream and we sloshed through the water as we took our time enjoying the experience. The woman’s advice (and my wool socks) were allowing me to be grateful to be tramping through water in such an amazing and beautiful place.

The sun never came out, although we did catch a glimpse of a patch of blue sky and a rainbow on the final morning. My husband and I observed how many of our fellow trampers seemed intent on finishing on that final day, while we were focused on slowing down and enjoying our walk through a part of the world we may never be able to see again. 

My experiment of disconnecting for three full weeks went to a deeper level when I was on the track. There was no wifi at the lodge and so I was not able to write a blog or upload pictures to Facebook.  Our trip was not perfect. We dealt with injuries, rain, sand flies, and lost gear. I learned to listen to my body, accept the weather, and enjoy the journey. I was able to deeply connect with my husband and our traveling companions and came to love New Zealand. I feel renewed and more deeply connected with my husband. The positive effects of the trip have lingered all week as I have returned to my hectic work life. 

My trip of a lifetime is over.  My challenge now is figure out how to regularly disconnect from work and technology to make space to connect with the people and places I love. If you have something that works for you, I would love to hear about it.