This weekend, I got the chance to go on a three day tramp on the west coast, on a trail called the Copland Track. Over the course of the weekend, we hiked a total of 48km with our packs.
In New Zealand, the department of conservation has set up a system where, along the hiking/tramping trails, there are little wood cabins with bunks and toilets and running water you can stay in for a fee. Usually, huts are spaced about 5-6 hours apart along a trail and you can spend a weekend or all week exploring a trail and staying in huts along the way. You can also pitch a tent outside the huts for a cheaper fee. I've never seen anything like this system in the states, but I think it is so cool! It makes backpacking really easy, and there are so many tramps to do (even on the south island alone), I think it would take years to do them all.
I consider myself outdoorsy. I like nature, I like to hike around, and I did a bunch of camping when I was younger with my dad. So I have a bit of an ego about being camp-ily inclined (in other words, before this weekend I considered myself at a pretty high level of nature-knowledge). This weekend, my ego got tramped into the ground!!
The first day, we arrived at the base of the track pretty late. It was about 4:30pm when we started hiking up, and it took us about 5 hours to reach the first hut. It was a steady mild incline, and for about three hours we were walking with only the light from our head lamps to see by. Around hour four, I started to get really tired. My pack weighed about 50lbs, my boots were soaking wet because the trail had intermittent rivers running across it, and the uphill felt really intense.
To take my mind off of wondering how long we had left to hike, I started talking to one of the guys who I was tramping with (there were four of us total--one Kiwi guy, one Finnish guy, and one other American girl. We all met in our Hydrogeology class and decided to trek together earlier in the week).
Before coming to New Zealand, my friend was in the Finnish Army, and had completed enough military training to earn his green beret. He told me stories about doing hypothermia testing, where he had to jump into 7 degree C water with all his clothes on, and stay there for 27 seconds before being allowed to try to swim to shore. He told me about the 100km walk that a unit 5 men have to finish together in order to earn their berets, which involved checkpoints every 5m where different military task had to be completed (like running a certain distance under a very short amount of time...failure to finish before that time meant running it again and again until they finally finished under time). The men had to carry all their gear for sleeping and eating and combat. If any one of the five people didn't finish, nobody in the unit got the green beret.
On the second day of the tramp, I was tired. My pack felt so heavy and the whole trail was uphill, over rivers and rocks and annoyingly technical terain. My boots were soaked. When we got to the second hut I felt exhausted and didn't have much energy for anything but just making food and sitting in the hut for the rest of the night. I did get a great nights sleep which was awesome.
When we woke up the third day, we remembered that on the road back to Dunedin, there is a pass that, due to construction, closes each day at four-thirty. We had 24km ahead of us, and less than 7 hours in which to hike it.
For some reason, something in me switched on. I had been so tired and felt so weak the day before. But on that third day, our entire group raced down the mountain. I practically jogged over stones that, on the way up the trail, I had taken minutes to scope out before I uneasily stepped on them. My pack was still heavy, but my entire mind was focused on chasing down the girl in front of me, who set a mean 4km/hour pace. I didn't think about how fast our pace was, or how my body was handling it (a 50lb pack while climbing up and down mini-summits is no joke!!). All I knew was that I was part of a group and there was no choice. We had to get to the car by three or else we were in for a major detour (pricey, too, since petrol is so expensive here). I didn't start feeling the weight of the hike until the last hour. That's when I had to start praying, saying, "please make this pack light and my feet fast...help me just do this for a little longer!"
I have never been so happy to see the car. Or take off my boots. I teared up a little bit from pure joy when I put my pack down.
From being convinced that I was totally spent up after that second day, the third day really put me in touch with some special reserves I had no idea I was capable of tapping into. When I was talking to my friend about his time in the army, I wondered, "how did he keep going? why?"
The power of a common goal, a common necessity, and a team is amazing! It certainly wasn't the same mind that I had on the first and second day of the trip that enabled me to do what I did on the third day. Maybe this is what my friend was able to tap into during his army training. He's also just a total bad-ass, and very in-shape. But after this experience, I am realizing how much mental stamina can make up for physical limitations. In both hypothermia tests and tramping.
Going back to school today was difficult. In the mountains, on the track, there is very little that matters except the next step. Everything feels so immediate. Food, water, a downhill section, getting near the end of the trail. Those become the most important things, and pleasure is so easy to feel. Putting down my pack, eating hot soup, snuggling into my sleeping bag. Back in civilization it is so hard to stay inside that immediacy, and to stay in touch with the moment. Pleasure is also harder to attain. Food is good, but am I eating too much of it? School becomes a source of stress because "success" in the future depends on good grades, which depend on studying, which depends on limited time and energy...
I love people and I love civilization, but man is it ever nice to get away from the stress and be surrounded by nature. I can't wait to go again! Despite major soreness today, the weekend was one of the best I have had in New Zealand.
In New Zealand, the department of conservation has set up a system where, along the hiking/tramping trails, there are little wood cabins with bunks and toilets and running water you can stay in for a fee. Usually, huts are spaced about 5-6 hours apart along a trail and you can spend a weekend or all week exploring a trail and staying in huts along the way. You can also pitch a tent outside the huts for a cheaper fee. I've never seen anything like this system in the states, but I think it is so cool! It makes backpacking really easy, and there are so many tramps to do (even on the south island alone), I think it would take years to do them all.
I consider myself outdoorsy. I like nature, I like to hike around, and I did a bunch of camping when I was younger with my dad. So I have a bit of an ego about being camp-ily inclined (in other words, before this weekend I considered myself at a pretty high level of nature-knowledge). This weekend, my ego got tramped into the ground!!
The first day, we arrived at the base of the track pretty late. It was about 4:30pm when we started hiking up, and it took us about 5 hours to reach the first hut. It was a steady mild incline, and for about three hours we were walking with only the light from our head lamps to see by. Around hour four, I started to get really tired. My pack weighed about 50lbs, my boots were soaking wet because the trail had intermittent rivers running across it, and the uphill felt really intense.
To take my mind off of wondering how long we had left to hike, I started talking to one of the guys who I was tramping with (there were four of us total--one Kiwi guy, one Finnish guy, and one other American girl. We all met in our Hydrogeology class and decided to trek together earlier in the week).
Before coming to New Zealand, my friend was in the Finnish Army, and had completed enough military training to earn his green beret. He told me stories about doing hypothermia testing, where he had to jump into 7 degree C water with all his clothes on, and stay there for 27 seconds before being allowed to try to swim to shore. He told me about the 100km walk that a unit 5 men have to finish together in order to earn their berets, which involved checkpoints every 5m where different military task had to be completed (like running a certain distance under a very short amount of time...failure to finish before that time meant running it again and again until they finally finished under time). The men had to carry all their gear for sleeping and eating and combat. If any one of the five people didn't finish, nobody in the unit got the green beret.
On the second day of the tramp, I was tired. My pack felt so heavy and the whole trail was uphill, over rivers and rocks and annoyingly technical terain. My boots were soaked. When we got to the second hut I felt exhausted and didn't have much energy for anything but just making food and sitting in the hut for the rest of the night. I did get a great nights sleep which was awesome.
When we woke up the third day, we remembered that on the road back to Dunedin, there is a pass that, due to construction, closes each day at four-thirty. We had 24km ahead of us, and less than 7 hours in which to hike it.
For some reason, something in me switched on. I had been so tired and felt so weak the day before. But on that third day, our entire group raced down the mountain. I practically jogged over stones that, on the way up the trail, I had taken minutes to scope out before I uneasily stepped on them. My pack was still heavy, but my entire mind was focused on chasing down the girl in front of me, who set a mean 4km/hour pace. I didn't think about how fast our pace was, or how my body was handling it (a 50lb pack while climbing up and down mini-summits is no joke!!). All I knew was that I was part of a group and there was no choice. We had to get to the car by three or else we were in for a major detour (pricey, too, since petrol is so expensive here). I didn't start feeling the weight of the hike until the last hour. That's when I had to start praying, saying, "please make this pack light and my feet fast...help me just do this for a little longer!"
I have never been so happy to see the car. Or take off my boots. I teared up a little bit from pure joy when I put my pack down.
From being convinced that I was totally spent up after that second day, the third day really put me in touch with some special reserves I had no idea I was capable of tapping into. When I was talking to my friend about his time in the army, I wondered, "how did he keep going? why?"
The power of a common goal, a common necessity, and a team is amazing! It certainly wasn't the same mind that I had on the first and second day of the trip that enabled me to do what I did on the third day. Maybe this is what my friend was able to tap into during his army training. He's also just a total bad-ass, and very in-shape. But after this experience, I am realizing how much mental stamina can make up for physical limitations. In both hypothermia tests and tramping.
Going back to school today was difficult. In the mountains, on the track, there is very little that matters except the next step. Everything feels so immediate. Food, water, a downhill section, getting near the end of the trail. Those become the most important things, and pleasure is so easy to feel. Putting down my pack, eating hot soup, snuggling into my sleeping bag. Back in civilization it is so hard to stay inside that immediacy, and to stay in touch with the moment. Pleasure is also harder to attain. Food is good, but am I eating too much of it? School becomes a source of stress because "success" in the future depends on good grades, which depend on studying, which depends on limited time and energy...
I love people and I love civilization, but man is it ever nice to get away from the stress and be surrounded by nature. I can't wait to go again! Despite major soreness today, the weekend was one of the best I have had in New Zealand.