THE BRILLIANCE OF GREAT WALKS

Thru-hikers talk often of post-trail depression – an untethered state of withdrawal experienced when the boots come off for the final time, and after several rhythmic months of walk, eat, sleep, wake, repeat, the journey is over. For half of my life, I’ve chased the Great Walks, ticking off one after the other, and I’m not sure I’m ready for the pursuit to end. How am I going to feel when I’ve ticked off the lot?

I was 15 when I walked my first; the stunning Lake Waikaremoana. We drove for five gruelling hours in my school’s sweaty people mover to begin at Hopuruahine Landing.

The final few hours were spent gritting teeth on gravel beneath towering podocarps. I remember skidding past two Maori teens riding bareback on dusty horses, rifles slung over their shoulders. We were very far from