03 to 06 February 2011
71 Km (on Foot) over 4 Days
Days 1 through 3
Gina has taken to hiking in her underwear.
It’s Day 3 on the Queen Charlotte Track (QCT) and Someone is hot. To combat this, she has decided that it’s okay to hike along with her shorts tucked up into her underpants. I cannot decide if this is a good look or not and it seems troublesome to have an opinion either way. Instead, I focus on the ground in front of me which today on this QCT, looks more like a road than a trail. We are not so sure about this QCT.
It all started out fun, taking a fast boat from Picton to the outer Sounds stop of Ship Cove, where we disembarked ready for another great South Island trekking experience. And the past two days have been quite lovely.
Day 1 of the track had us hiking 9 miles through lush bush with Marlborough Sound views to the Furneaux Lodge, where we received a complimentary upgrade to a suite. Sweet! And ensuite! This is only the second time in the past two months we have slept in a room with a bathroom attached. Sure makes a difference in the middle of the night. Oh joy, let me simply roll over, plant my feet firmly on the floor, and shuffle eight paces to the loo. Versus, oh hell, I REALLY don’t want to get up, where’s my headlamp, where are my shoes, crap, I think I just let another mosquito into the tent, what’s that dark shadow over by that tree, why is it so cold out here, oh great, there’s no toilet paper in this stall, etc. etc.
Day 2 of the track was also pleasant, cruising along a predominantly wide and smoothe clay trail 7 miles to the Punga Cove Resort. Here we were bunking for the night in our own ensuite A-frame with a tropical island’ish view. Maybe not quite as fancy as our previous night’s suite but in some ways more cozy, with a super cute cafe on the water, a fat and friendly orange tabby to keep us company, and all afternoon to enjoy a well-earned rest from the trail.
But on this Day 3 we are not as enthralled. Besides the heat, the trail is an achingly, arch-falling, blister-inducing 15 miles long. This distance works well for the March of Dimes, but not so much for a pleasant day on the trail. And the trail keeps going up. And not the gentle, meandering, switchbacking up but straight up, like climbing a fireman’s ladder up. Only to go back down. And not the gentle, meandering, switchbacking down but straight down, like a let-me-belay-you down. Only to go straight back up and then straight back down. On top of this, the trail is as wide and rutted as an Outback road, better suited for pack mules and their carts than for hikers in search of an intimate, wilderness experience. On the positive side, this has inspired Someone to practice her spelling as she hobbles along in her underwear. “B-O-R-I-N-G”, she begins. Followed by “T-W-O-T-H-U-M-B-S-D-O-W-N”. Oh Greenstone-Routeburn-Milford treks, you have spoiled us dearly.
The worst of Day 3, however, is yet to come, and is split into two events. The first event occurs when, after 15 tiring miles, we are dumped off the trail onto an asphalt road. “Where is our lodge?!” we demand of the Universe. Having not needed a map all day long to follow the obvious road through the bush, we now must produce ours out of the pack to determine where it is that we are supposed to go, seeing how there is absolutely no sparkling, welcoming lodge in sight. This event is causing Someone to throw a minor temper tantrum. This temper tantrum escalates to a simmering rage when that Someone learns that our sparkling, welcoming lodge is located at the bottom of that asphalt hill. A bottom that we cannot see from the top and that eludes us with every twist of the roadway down.
The second event occurs when we finally reach the Reception counter of this lodge-at-the-bottom-of-a-big-hill and are informed that there’s been an electrical problem and the showers won’t be operational for another 2 hours. The gal behind the counter clearly has nerves of steel to be announcing this to two knackered, hot, sweaty, dusty, and very much annoyed patrons. But then again, what can you do except smile, say thank you, and totter off to your room to collapse in a filthy heap on the floor? Very little, if we are any indication.
Day 4
It’s another long day on the trail, 12 miles to cover before catching our water taxi back to Picton. It’s clear we are pushing the “over it” stage today. Maybe because it’s so hot, maybe because the past two days on the trail have not been nearly as interesting or scenic as the first two, maybe because we are tuckering ourselves out with all the trekking, or maybe because we have been dodging mountain bikers all morning, who share this part of the track with hikers. Regardless of the reason, we are concentrating on getting to the finish of this road, er, trail. And when we finally make it, here’s Gina’s analysis of the Queen Charlotte Track:
Despite our whining, we’re glad we hiked it and those with OCD like a certain Someone on this adventure would never be satisfied if she couldn’t check-off the whole track as being completed from A to Z. So CHECK!, move on.