New Zealand part 8 – Shattered

As I watch Keith hike out of camp I feel like I’m failing as much as I feel like I’m doing the right thing. After five weeks of bouncing between trails and towns my body seems to have hit a barrier of tiredness and now an oncoming cold. Our hike this afternoon left my legs screaming in protest on even the slightest uphills, muscles bound and burning like straining ropes set to rip through my taught skin. An easy, flat six miles became a series of crawling sprints as I forced myself through each aching step. And then the rain started.

Unable to stop myself I was rent by a primal scream, directed at nothing and no one as much as it was at myself before I sat on the side of the trail and cried. Keith’s patient form was as welcome as it was infuriating. It always feels like me, like my body and my brain are the ones holding us back. When Keith offers to carry my pack the last mile into camp I am as grateful as I am ashamed. I should be able to do this and the fact that I can’t rubs salt deep into my already wounded pride. That last mile takes a small eternity until at last we reach our campsite. A flat enough patch of grass next to an open-sided shelter to cook under and get out of the rain.

I prep and Keith cooks and we both decide to sleep in the shelter instead of setting up the tent in the rain since we are the only hikers in the whole valley it would seem.

I wake in the middle of the night relieved at the torrent of rain cascading around us. If it’s pouring this hard in the morning Keith won’t want to hike out in the rain and we won’t have to tackle the massive climb that would take us up to our ultimate objective—the Liverpool hut beneath Mount Aspiring. Alas, discouragingly, the day breaks bright and blue and I feel crushed beneath the cheerful sun. My easy out evaporating as surely as last night’s rain. But I am tired, and tired of forcing myself to walk through pain. So we make a plan, Keith will head up to the hut and spend the night while I will stay put in the tent and rest. I am grateful that there is a middle ground where Keith can enjoy the trip he has spent so much time and love planning. Almost more than I crave rest I want him to be happy and fulfilled. It’s the best solution we can come up with and somehow still it breaks my heart.