Abel Tasman National Park, New Zealand (Anchorage Camp)
The drive to the trailhead took thirty minutes from Motueka. All of us were very excited to get on the trail and finally hike through one of the many National Parks in New Zealand. We ate our bananas, situated our packs one last time and set out on our journey right at 10:00 AM—our goal time!
We planned for all types of weather, but luckily we only had to deal with brilliant sunshine and scattered clouds. As we looked toward the bay from the trailhead the sun turned the water a sparkling greenish blue; we were in for a special day.The well-marked trail escorted us along the coastal range through dark, lush, green fern groves. The gradual undulations along the footpath provided us enough height to peer through the cool, shady forest and catch an occasional glimpse of the luminous water to our right. It seemed at every turn there was a new plant, stream or waterfall to admire. Crystal streams ran under perfectly placed footbridges while brilliant red toadstools with white polka dots, straight out of Alice in Wonderland, grew beneath massive silver ferns. At times I felt like I had to pinch myself; there were moments where
I thought I was in a dream. The trail was not physically demanding, a few ups-and-downs, nothing the four of us couldn’t handle. The toughest section of the day was a steep ascent after lunch, but well worth the effort. We found a small trail that led us down to a lonely golden sand beach in a quiet cove. We parked ourselves on a couple large pieces of driftwood and enjoyed a few slices of cheese and salami before powering back up to the main trail towards our destination for the night, Anchorage Campsite.
The final few kilometers of the hike were on top of a ridge overlooking the bay. The lush fauna we were in awe of earlier was now scrub brush. The terrain was more desert like, with hard unforgiving soil, both on the knees and the plants. Dustin took note of the contrasting landscape, explaining the new terrain reminded him of his hunting days with his Grandpa near Arbuckle, CA.
When we arrived at Anchorage, we still had a few hours of light left and took advantage of the time to explore the beach at low-tide. Marc and I took off on our own while Shelby and Dustin relaxed below the radiant sun on the beach. At the west end of camp were small caves obviously
created by the surge of the sea over thousands of years. A few names were etched into the stone, including a few memorials, for what appeared to be fishermen. The dates on the majority of the rocks were from the 1960’s and a few from as early as the 1930’s. One of the names, MATT, was now spelled in barnacles, after the mollusks found the deep etching of letters to be a suitable home.Overall, the day was spectacular. The landscape today resembled the pictures we ogle over in Lonely Planet and on the Discovery Channel. I know we only scratched the surface of the South Island today with more spectacular sights to come.
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