This time a fortnight ago we were frantically packing for a trip to the South Island.  My sister has a significant birthday coming up and she was choosing to celebrate it by hiking the coastal track in the Abel Tasman National Park with her husband and two daughters.  She invited Clive and I to join them.  It is the sort of thing that requires a rather significant amount of planning and preparation, and preferably even some training.  Not much at all of this was done on our part. My sister arranged the bookings of the trail and the huts.  Several weeks beforehand, evidence of preparations could be seen throughout her house – piles of sleeping gear, sachets of porridge and bags of lentils, copious notes and even trial-runs of suitable recipes.

Meanwhile, in our household Clive booked our flights while I vaguely wondered what one should wear when sleeping in shared accommodation.  We did go for a training walk.  It was roughly eight kilometres and we were quite proud.  I had even worn my proper tramping boots.  I had only worn the boots for gardening up to that point, but they seemed to manage the training walk well.  We knew we would be walking between eleven and twelve kilometres a day on the hike.  Eight kilometres hadn’t felt too bad at all, and we were sure another few kilometres more would be quite manageable.   We would be carrying packs on the real hike, but it was only for three days so really, how much gear would we be taking anyway?

Well, it turns out that the gear needed for a three day hike (which meant four sleeps, I might add) is quite a lot.  At least, it certainly feels a lot when you are carrying it all upon your back.  That is what I thought as I carried my pack for the first time from the airport carpark to the terminal.  Actually, it was only half that distance, as we came across a couple of luggage trolleys and thought they would be a much better idea.  It seemed very sensible to save our energy for the real thing.

The real thing was very real indeed.  It was hard, interesting, beautiful and restful – at different times and in various ways.

I have grown up close to the Waitakere Ranges, so walking in nature is by no means new to me.  But there is something mysteriously wonderful about a slow, laborious trek through the bush for hours on end, one step in front of the other, listening to tui and being entertained by hopeful fantail.  Although we were hiking together as a group of six, our configuration was constantly changing and every now and then I would find myself walking alone, with no-one else within view or earshot.  The company of my family was fabulous, but these moments of solitude were also surprisingly precious.   Not long into the hike, I began to realise that the feeling of stress that I normally carry was gone.  It was a weight I was glad to be rid of.

What I could not be rid of so easily was the weight of my pack!  It was heavy to put on, heavy to take off and definitely heavy to hike with.  It made going up-hill hard and down-hill even harder.  There were many gorgeous views along our way and we did take the time to stop and appreciate them.  But even stopping would become difficult at times as the loss of momentum meant starting up again was a real effort.  More than once I found myself thinking that I would probably be able to enjoy the journey a whole lot more without the burden that was weighing down my every step.  Hmm, I think there’s a message in there somewhere.

But despite the hard work, it was a fantastic experience.  We got to chat with (and sleep beside (eek!)) lots of interesting people, forming a sense of camaraderie as we met up with several of them again along the way.  We got to slow down and enjoy the basics of boiling water over a tiny gas burner for a cup of tea, and sharing a block of chocolate together as a family for dessert, while sitting on the hut floor in front of the fire.  We watched people help each other and learn from each other.  And we made great memories together.  It was pretty special.

And the answer to my ponderings about night time attire?  I think you pretty much just stay wearing what you are wearing – minus the boots.   It’s simpler that way.  Smellier maybe, but definitely simpler.

Would we do it again?  Yes indeed, but next time with lighter equipment and better-fitting packs.  And perhaps a few more training walks to boot (see what I did there?).

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Matthew 11:28