Abel Tasman

In my penultimate South Island trip of the summer, I decided to visit Abel Tasman National Park. After all, it would be a crime to live only 1 hour from the golden shores of Marahau without dipping my toes in the sand.

I jogged into the National park expecting beautiful beaches and sea-side relaxation – but once again, I succeeded in making the easiest of the ‘Great Walks’, into a rip-roaring adventure with uncertainty lying around each corner.

I started out with a couple from Wellington as they began their 3-day northern hike, but within twenty minutes, I was bored and my eyes were drawn away from the trail-highway, to the seductive coastline. I strode along a dozen beaches while hundreds of holiday-makers sailed, swam, and sand-castled. Meanwhile I revelled at being off the beaten track once again, boulder hopping around the rocky coastline and occasionally squeezing through tight caves.

Eating nectarines in the shade of the cool forest at Watering Cove campsite was excellent, the air smelt like summer. Golden.

After a leisurely trip north, I ducked my head into Anchorage hut – lifting my Hut Bagging total to over a half century. Though on most hot days of summer the hut would be the last place I’d want to stay, a sleeping bag on the beach would be all you need for a great night sleeping under the stars.

Each clearing through the cool forest revealed a new hidden bay waiting to be explored. Judging by the huge number of kayaks at each cove, the sea-borne travellers were getting the best of it.

 Dirt-crete: thousands of tourists pound and compress this trail into a fast, yet exceptionally hard running surface.

 Seals and White-faced Heron were rampant along the coast, hissing and inhaling violently as I burst into their territory. Threatened, as I cut the line between them and their offspring, I sent the oily creatures flapping into the ocean … safety, for us both. Meanwhile, I managed to capture our mutual fear as we dodged and darted each other along the narrow strip of traversable terrain.

I present to you, In the Hall of the Seal King.

http://www.youtube.com/get_player

The sunset was a mere reminder of the epic-ness had that day. Wood-fired pizza with a band of Dutchmen, couldn’t be better!

Ninety Miles of Beach

“E kore e mau ia koe, he wae kai pakiaka”

A foot accustomed to running over roots makes the speediest runner.

Old Maori saying.

Te Houtaewa – The Legend

Absorbing the Maori legend and cultural significance of Cape Reinga

Compulsory handstands at the lighthouse

Endurance is all about pushing your limits. Striving towards a goal where the outcome is uncertain, and going further than ever before…on the morning of April 11^th 2010 we did just that. At our country’s unique spot, I stood next to the lighthouse and gazed northwards to see nothing but ocean… our most outrageous journey then began as we faced the south and ran… We ran through scorched bush and desert, a contrast to the lush farmland of the mainland and the expanse of blue sea. As we crested the final hill, an everlasting stretch of beach unfolded before our eyes…

Hannah, legendary support crew.

90 mile beach….

Fourteen hours later, we stumbled into Ahipara.

Midnight at Ahipara

For me endurance is another word for patience. Endurance is battling against your mind – and the clock – in the midst of monotony to simply “just keep going”. This was the motto for one of our most outrageous adventures. Making our mark on the New Zealand map we ran from our northern-al-most point at Cape Reinga along the never-ending sands of the infamous 90 Mile Beach. Jeremy Minton and I had just completed our first ultra-marathon of over one hundred kilometres.

Maori legend has it that the headland of Cape Reinga – Te Rerenga Wairua – is the departing place for spirits on their homeward journey to Hawaiiki-a-nui, where they enter the underworld. Legend tells of a spirit trail along Ninety Mile Beach, starting at the southern end of the beach. The homebound spirit waits for an outgoing tide before starting the journey towards Cape Reinga. He then climbs the sacred 800-year-old Pohutukawa tree before slipping into the ocean. Maori souls follow Te Ara Wairua (the spirit’s pathway) between the meeting place of the Pacific and Tasman oceans towards Three Kings Islands where they take one last look towards their land.

The History: why is it called “Ninety Mile Beach”? The going theory is that in the days when missionaries travelled on horse back, they calculated that an average horse could travel 30 miles each day before needing to be rested. The beach took three days to travel, and so the name was born. But the optimistic missionaries didn’t take into account the slower speed for sand, so thinking they had travelled 90 miles they really had only covered 55 miles (88km). The additional 12km from the northern head to Cape Reinga conveniently makes up the full 100km.