Growing PAINS

WHILE WALKING THE TRAIL TO HAMILTON HUT, where I was to spend two weeks as the warden, I marvelled at the new scenery and contemplated what the following days might bring. I could not have guessed at the number of people I was about to meet, nor how much I would learn about New Zealand tramping and, specifically, about the Te Araroa Trail.

Within hours of settling in at the hut, my first trampers arrived. Given they were a couple from France and New Zealand, I felt self-conscious about giving a hut talk to a Kiwi who I felt must know more about the backcountry than I ever could. But I quickly learned that she, along with pretty much everyone else who stayed at the hut, understood the need for a hut talk even if they’d heard it all before. Those unsure feelings of the first night were soon eased by the visiting trampers’ friendliness and willingness to share, and there began my education about life on the Te Araroa Trail.

I come from the US,