15/10/2024
Day 61. Jan 4th
Whanganui to Whangaheu.
1380ish/3000kms
To welcome the new year, I decided it was finally time to shave my head. We bought a cheap razor and Marco cut and shaved my filthy knotted hair away. I don’t suit having a buzz cut. My hair sticks up like hedgehog spines, and my cowlicks can’t be tamed. But I (mostly) don’t care. I love the freedom this haircut gives me. It is the only time in my life I have never truly cared how I look. Instead I focus on the strength in my legs, my mental capacity for pain, my fit lungs, and I feel powerful instead of worrying if I’m beautiful.
I put my little home on my back for the first time in 11 days, and we set off hiking again. After days paddling on the river, my body has quickly forgotten its hiking strength. Everything hurts like it did when I started this hike 2 months ago. Made worse by the fact it's an entire day of road walking. But this hike has taught me that the pain always passes.
Our water is running low. It’s been a windy hot day and we’re thirsty. We come across a rest area we were hoping to camp, but there’s no tap or stream to fill up. There’s a small town a few kms further up the road so we keep walking, hoping to find a tap, or knock on a door and ask someone to fill up our bottles. The entire village seems like it’s covered in grime. Spider webs on the front door and windows and not a sound emanating from any of the houses. We knock but nobody answers. We walk to another house which has the same eerie abandoned vibe. Each house is empty. We have to keep walking. I’m too tired and thirsty to get my camera out.
We finally spy a house that looks lived in. We’re hopeful. Someone’s up on the balcony overlooking the yard and we yell up asking if we can fill up our water. A woman comes out and offers us tea and coffee and lets us know we’re welcome to camp on the lawn.
Her young children run out to greet us as we set up our tent. The kids pick us plums from their trees, they climb into our tent and ask us a million questions, and make us laugh constantly, before they’re finally called in for dinner.
It's amazing how quickly a day can turn on the TA. It's amazing how the pain always passes.
