Day 72 – Anakiwa to Blackrock Campsite

I was on the trail early this morning and saw lots of mist on the various bays of Queen Charlotte Sound as I walked.  This track is one of the Great Walks of New Zealand, and it may actually be the easiest of them all, which is saying a lot.  It connects a number of bays, many of which have small clusters of baches, or holiday homes, and a few of which have resorts or hostels.  The track in between is frequently wide enough to pass a car, and is thoroughly graded and benched.  I had an easy walk, so relaxing as to actually be boring.

My right knee had been aching ever since I split my boot, and I figured the two were likely connected.  I repaired it with dental floss, a mainstay of emergency gear repair, and it worked surprisingly well.  My stride felt more natural afterwards and my knee stopped hurting.

I reached Portage, the first opportunity to get off the trail to someplace where money could be exchanged for food.  Because I had been expecting to resupply in Anakiwa, I had no lunches or snacks.  So I hiked the fifteen minutes off the trail in the direction signposted, with visions of peanut butter and jelly and Snickers bars and muesli dancing in my head.  The reality of this little country store was a bit of a disappointment.  It seemed primarily to serve those staying at the attached resort who had forgotten a sundry or two.  They sold sunscreen, ketchup, bug repellent, jam, and frozen bread.  I bought the frozen bread and the jam, but was disappointed to find no peanut butter.  I was also a little disappointed that the proprietor wouldn’t take a credit card for a purchase of less than $20.  I realized this morning that the other resource I was running low on was cash.  I had only $42 with which to resupply at a series of overpriced country stores, possibly treat myself to a nice dinner in Endeavour Inlet, and maybe pay for my ferry back to Picton from Ship Cove.  There certainly would be no ATM from here on, and while I could probably cover some items with a credit card, I was inclined to hoard the bills I had.

Back on the trail, at an overlook, I met an American from Wyoming who works in the Forest Service.  We talked for a while – I was surprised how much I had missed talking to Americans.  Even in this country that shares a language and almost shares a culture, meeting someone who shares so many reference points was a relief.  It was especially nice that this woman was also enthusiastic about the backcountry and was familiar with the long trails in the US, so we had a lot of common ground to talk about and compare between New Zealand and home.

I stayed at another nice DoC campground, positioned on top of a hill where it overlooked the sound and had a view of Picton’s lights at night.  I shared it with a nice Kiwi couple, and we watched the huge Inter-island ferries roll into Picton Harbor and back out again, trying to estimate their loading times.