Late October. The days become longer, the ocean warmer, and summer is just around the corner. Would Aotearoa springtime play to script? Mostly. It stayed dry, and the mercury nudged a pleasant 15, an ideal hiking temperature. The ocean soothed limbs with morning and evening day two swims. And a weka stole an entire block of Whittakers. We did have some obstacles, though. A one-man Macpac tent is more nuanced to erect than you’d think. And did we have trouble navigating our great friend, Loe Gistics?
We booked the hike for a weekend when all three of us were free, and tide timings were in our favour for dry inlet crossings. All locked in, all relaxed. Did any of these sports fiends check the Rugby World Cup draw, to see if there would be a clash? No. Oh, the final might be on then? Ah well, we won’t be there, it’s Ireland’s turn. Or perhaps the French. Against the odds, we made the final; an 8am kick-off on Sunday 29 October. This was the last day of our hike, meaning a “how goddamn early are we getting up to catch kick-off on day three” discussion was required. The answer: a bleary-eyed 540am rise for tents down and pack up, sweetened condensed milk for breakfast, and a 5.5km blat along the final stretch in golden sunlight. An enjoyable start to the day, followed by a drive filled with anticipation to see the Webb Ellis encounter. We missed kick-off by four minutes. Like that block of Hazella, it’s something we won’t get back. Nature and friends was better than the rugby, anyway. Something to enjoy often, and not every four years.
