Not sure you’ll ever traverse the 3000km Te Araroa trail yourself? No matter, Explorer Jack captured the experience through the lens of his analogue camera, before developing, scanning, and printing the images himself.

‘Te Araroa’, as it is referred to by the Māori people of Aotearoa, is a 3,000km long-distance hiking route in New Zealand. A network of hiking trails, cycleways, rivers, and roads form an interconnected passage between Cape Reigna and Bluff, the most northern and southern points of the country. For three months, I followed the foot-worn path northwards as I crossed this unworldly country on foot, documenting my story on an analogue camera.

Te Waipounamu – South Island

Nothing could have prepared me for this odyssey. In the beginning, oceans of doubt flooded every fibre of my being as the depths of what lay beyond sat unparalleled to anything I’d yet experienced. Before the first week had reached its end, I considered returning home.

Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to desolation when the comforts of tradition have already been realised?

The only truth I knew was I had the opportunity to capture a story, a hope to one day inspire someone.

Emerging from the Longwood forest, a two-day mud-fuelled charge and the first true testament to Te Araroa. At its edge sits Merivale Hut and a first encounter with a trail angel.

Headed south, fellow through-hikers gathered and prepared to tackle the forest, and for the first time, a sense of community was brewing. For the first time, a light glimmered through the darkness as a great adventure awaited. 

 

In truth, Te Araroa would remain concealed for several more weeks. North of Queenstown, a group was taking shape and not far past Wanaka, this gathering had transformed into something far deeper – a near inseparable family. ​​

Each of us came from different walks of life, with varied jobs, ages, and backgrounds. But here, on this journey, these diverse individuals, once strangers with lives far apart, had come together in an extraordinary way. 

 

As I tracked further north the more I yearned for every element Te Araroa provided. As the sun rose each morning, a thrilling anticipation loomed with the allure of the unknown. With every kilometre a new expanse unfurled before me, each a striking prospect waiting to be conquered. 

The South Island was a pristine masterpiece, a symphony of dramatic mountains and glimmering turquoise rivers. An ever-changing landscape providing a mesmerising trance. 

Wolter and I completed the South Island together, and as we finally reached the coast – seeing the vast blue expanse for the first time in nearly two months – a surge of joy washed over us. Yet, that exhilaration was soon eclipsed by the weight of exhaustion. We collapsed into the shade, our bodies craving rest as we awaited transport to the next challenge.

Te Ika-a-Māui – North Island

The North Island presented a starkly different challenge, where the grandeur of mountain ranges and river crossings became a distant memory. I found myself surrounded by endless beaches, winding roads, and scattered animals – my now closest companions.

I struggled as the landscape no longer struck awe within me. Rolling hills akin to The Shire of Middle Earth was the norm and would remain this way until the perils of Mount Doom.

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Belangoloopy – Paddy Pallin Intro Rogain, NSW Rogaining

Now joined by Linda, Tongariro National Park revealed a starkly different world, with the infamous Mount Doom standing as a brooding sentinel over a barren, Martian landscape unlike anything Aotearoa had yet presented. As the sun dipped below the horizon, we set up camp at the base of this formidable peak. That night, temperatures plummeted and fierce winds howled, a forewarning for what lay ahead.

We left camp as light broke, a clear morning, light breeze, and inspired surroundings as we made our way up towards the pinnacle of the alpine crossing. As we climbed higher, the wind intensified, clouds gathered overhead, and visibility dropped to metres.

With the pinnacle within our sights, snow began to fall as the surge of the wind grew to nearly 150km/h, knocking us off our feet and forcing a desperate crawl to continue. Unsure of what lay beyond, we turned around and retreated, living to see tomorrow.

Before long, Cape Reigna was drawing near. On the eve of its arrival, one final challenge awaited on 90 Mile beach, a seemingly endless expanse of hard-packed sand, a relentless treadmill of unchanging views. I set foot on the beach in the morning and made camp long after midnight. As dawn approached, Wolter, Linda, and I eagerly packed up, our hearts racing with anticipation for a goal we’d long pursued. 

Arriving at Cape Reigna was a joyous day. Unlike before, our exhaustion was eclipsed by a wave of emotion. Our pilgrimage was complete. 

 

We’d traversed this breathtaking country in the truest form we knew. What lay beyond remained uncertain, for everything we once knew had become a fleeting memory.

My first taste of unencumbered freedom. Unconfined to the expectations of the populace. For a transient moment, I merely existed. 

This piece was brought to you by a real living human who felt the wind in their hair and described their adventure in their own words. This is because we rate authenticity and the sharing of great experiences in the natural world – it’s all part of our ethos here at We Are Explorers. You can read more about it in our Editorial Standards.