Day 73 – Blackrock Shelter to Endeavour Inlet

This morning the fog was even denser and hugged the lower elevations long after sunrise.  Since my campsite was a few hundred meters up, I was above it and got to enjoy the sensation of being far above the clouds despite the fact that these hills are not particularly tall.

It was another cruisey day on track that must be like a highway in peak season.  I spent a while chatting with a holidaymaker who owns a home in one of the bays here, about how DoC had recently re-cut the track to go behind his place rather than in front of it, where the mountain bikers were causing a bit of erosion and effectively washing his property into the sound.  It sounded like he was pretty happy with the process – DoC depends on the goodwill of the property owners to keep this trail open, and was careful to make sure everyone’s needs were met.

Towards the end of the day, I descended into Endeavour Inlet, the second-to-last bay before Ship Cove.  This is one of the more populated areas, with a curious mix of bull paddocks, seasonal campgrounds, high-end resorts and vacation / retirement homes.  The main “road” of the settlement here is the track itself, which sees traffic only by foot and wheelbarrow and the occasional riding lawnmower.  The residents are dependent for their supplies and mail on the ferries running from Picton, which run many times a day during the summer but slacken off significantly during the winter.  There’s mostly a happy relationship between those who live here and those who hike through.  In front of one house is a cart full of various backpacker’s necessities, from locally grown apples to trekking poles to Garfield keychains.  All of these could be purchased by putting money in an honesty box, since there was no-one attending the booth.

I had met a hiker who described to me a backpacker’s hostel here that allowed camping in their yard for a discounted rate.  At first I had planned on “treating” myself by staying indoors, but as hiked the idea came to seem silly.  I should celebrate my last day on the trail by doing something I would do for the rest of my off-trail vacation?  Sleeping in my hammock one last time seemed more and more appealing, especially since I not used it in a while (I slept directly on the ground at the last few campsites).  So when I reached the hostel and it turned out they did not actually allow camping, it was a quick decision to keep on and hang my hammock outside of town.

Unfortunately, “outside of town” is not actually a legitimate camping spot – I would have had to continue around to School Bay to find the next official site, and it was getting dark.  But I found a cute little beach far from anyone’s house, with a wide selection of perfectly-spaced trees.  I cooked my last trail dinners sitting on a log, burning the very last of my fuel.  My second pot of noodles never quite reached a boil, but a little patiences and they were perfect nonetheless.  Occasionally I heard an outboard motor puttering across the bay and clicked off my flashlight, the very picture of discretion.

I was more than a little sad that tomorrow would be the end of my journey and a return to “normal” life.  I didn’t have the feeling I was about to cross a finish line or accomplish some massive task, I simply felt like I was going to stop walking.  Perhaps this was because I allowed myself so many caveats, like hitching long road sections.  Perhaps not continuing to the North Island made the trip seem incomplete.  Or maybe it was just that Ship Cove is a somewhat odd place to finish, since it’s not the northernmost point of the island, nor is it the point of departure for the North Island – that’s Picton.  It is, in Geoff Chapple’s words, a “cultural touchpoint,” and a worthwhile beginning / end for the South Island half of Te Araroa.  But I definitely had a case of the second-to-last-day blues.