Smiles over Miles

Miles and Smiles and are they really that different?

I once crossed paths with an effervescent hiker whose often repeated motto was, “Smiles over miles!” Her version of smiles often included shotgunning an impressive and slightly concerning amount of beer, which I can’t imagine leading to smiles the next morning. However, I appreciated the spirit of her approach to a trail and her commitment to truly ‘hike her own hike.’ While I deeply, truly, fervently, (ardently? Channeling Mr. Darcy) adore hiking, sometimes… sometimes it can feel like a chore. That’s not a hushed confession, most backpackers and other endurance athletes I’ve encountered share the same sentiment. Committing long hours to any sport or project or adventure can be exhausting. And, just like a job, without good balance can lead to burnout. Years before I ever set foot on a long distance trail, I had held the fantasy backpacking would: 

1. Solve all my problems
2. Always be a fun, exciting, and engaging adventure 

Now, several years and trails later, I’ve learned reality is grittier and more complicated. I still harbor the small hope that this will be the time, this will be the trail, the one where my life will segue into perfection, only to learn and relearn and relearn I’m human. (And according to my therapist, that’s not a problem to be solved.) 

It’s easy to begin to channel focus on the miles and miss out on the views, the trees begging for hugs, the sidequests, the smiles. I’ve worn a sloth necklace for the past couple years as a reminder to slow down and not take myself so seriously. Perhaps as a side effect of growing up in a strict, high control religion, I tend to have a low level of constant worry that I’m not doing enough. The belief I must be productive all of the time has been persistent and deeply ingrained. On a trail, this frequently translates into pushing the miles or not taking enough zero days until I feel like I earned it. I know, I know, it’s bullshit, and backpacking has lent itself to gently teaching me the wonder of rest and slowing down. 

Are Zero Days zeros if you walk to the store?

Along the TA, I have been taking more side quests, breaks throughout the day, and generally less weekly cumulative miles. I want this to be a sustainable hike, to listen and be kind to my body, avoid injury if possible and to fully immerse myself in the joy. I began to notice feelings of general fatigue and a lackluster attitude emerging between Auckland and Hamilton. It was not constant, but beginning to tip the scales. After a long, hot afternoon tramping across fields and roads, I decided to take my first full zero in Hamilton. 

The first obstacle between Hamilton and Rest Day was the Hakarimata Range, an 8mi tramp through native NZ bush. I took a short loop detour to see a few ancient Kauri trees. Based on my previous experience tramping through the Ratea forest and some warnings from the locals, I assumed the range would be a slow slog in deep mud. I was pleasantly surprised to find it relatively easy walking. Although there were plenty of roots, rocks, steep ascents and muck, there were also plenty of firm footholds and clear stretches of trail. I reached the summit much earlier than I anticipated and began to entertain ideas of reaching Hamilton in one go, rather than splitting it up in two days. The second obstacle was descending the Hakarimatas via a long, long flight of stairs. This stretch of trail was very well maintained and crowded with day hikers. I was wildly impressed by some of the locals running up the stair gauntlet! The last obstacle was the Te Awa and Riverside Cycleways, a cement path stretching the rest of the way from Ngāruawāhia to Hamilton. Hiking on cement with a pack is a recipe for sore knees and ankles, and I was glad when I finally stumbled into Ann St. Park.

I stayed with a lovely trail angel and the next day had a glorious zero staying at R.’s house. He had to get off trail for a few weeks due to an injury, and he and his wife generously opened their home and fridge to me. We reminisced about various sections of the trail, and fondly grumped about the shared misery. It was absolutely delightful and I felt much restored the next morning waving goodbye at Ann St. Park. I promised myself not to wait so long for my next full zero, and stumbled into an opportunity only two days later. I had been wanting to take a tour of the glowworm caves in Waitomo, and I met several other hikers at Jo’s Funny Farm (which was funny in multiple ways) who also wanted to take the tour. Ferociously bad weather and one of the hikers having access to a car made the compelling case to join them and have another zero day. 

glow worms’ butts, mountains, and other amazing things:

The caves were magical. 

I’m still disentangling beliefs and mainly land in the æther of “I don’t know what I believe,” but I’ve mostly left organized religion behind. I’ve found that there is wilder, more beautiful, and wide open spaces out of it, and the terror of hell and anxiety of not being good enough can go fuck itself. But there are pieces of it I miss, one being the feeling of deep sacredness and holy hush of being humbled by grandeur and the realization of Something Bigger. The journey in the caves and the subsequent boat tour of another cave felt spiritual. There were a few minutes of reverent and awed silence as we paddled through the water in the dark, gaping at the millions of pricks of light on the cave walls. What a fascinating space of the universe we occupy! In the breadth of a couple days, I was able to stand on a summit in the Pirongia range, and gaze over a magnificent view of lush mountains, and then, sit quietly in the bowels of the earth, gazing steadily at bioluminescent worm butts. Both brought a smile and tears. How glorious! How Remarkable! How amazing! 

I walk on, my own version of “smiles over miles” etched into my head and heart. 

Miles Breakdown: 

• Day 28: Parker Rd.- Ann St. Park, 21mi
• Day 29: Zero Day, Hamilton
• Day 30: Ann St. Park-Kaniwhaniwha Campsite 26mi (8mi hitched due to Karamu Walkway closure)
• Day 31: Kaniwhaniwha Campsite- Jo’s Funny Farm (Pirongia Range) 13mi
• Day 32: Zero Day, Waitomo Caves
• Day 33: Jo’s Funny Farm-Waitomo 18mi
• Day 34: Waitomo- Te Kuiti 11mi

The Ring is.. probably somewhere near the dead marshes