With April break nearly a third completed, la grande finale lay just ahead, in a few short days. But a few short days during the school term is a very different situation than the same during holiday. Action can be taken; nay, must be taken! To sit around and twiddle your thumbs while the warm weather slowly dissipates? Criminal.
Just outside of Arthur's Pass, the Otehake River runs south through the hills and surrounding forest. In comparison to some of the other trips recently taken, an expedition to Otehake would appear to be a downgrade. The initial terrain was very similar to the harsh riverbeds found on the Crow River near Avalanche Peak and the elevation changed very little, depriving travelers of any mind-numbing sights found on the peak of a distant mountain.
Yet, as with all selected destinations throughout these journeys, there was a definite purpose for this particular trip. After following the river and trampling through the forest for several hours, the smell of sulfur would begin to invade the nostrils. Traveling a bit more, the path would again merge with the river, forcing one to cross the chilly water multiple times. Finally, after more struggling across rocky riverbeds, several small pools of water would be located, most likely shooting steam into the sky above.
These were the Otehake River Hot Springs, a notorious attraction for students all across New Zealand. And so, on the afternoon of April 10, the Blue Balloon was again packed full and turned loose, limping out west and towards Arthur's Pass.
The local Department of Conservation site gave us some interesting advice, directing us to park our car with a local farmer rather than risk damage to our prized piece by leaving it at the public carpark. Apparently Arthur's Pass, along with being known for its many picturesque hiking tracks, is also notorious for rampant destruction to visiting vehicles.
Why anybody would want to set the Blue Bordello ablaze is beyond me, but it was a risk we refused to take. Because if anybody is going to torch that car, it's going to be us.
Disembarking from the vehicle and slinging packs across our backs, we set out for the path. Very quickly, however, an unwelcome sight came into focus.
Those g*&!$#@ riverbeds. Pebbles get in your shoes, the soles of your feet ache, and you have to focus on each step rather than admiring the scenery. Truly frustrating.
Within five minutes we stumbled into a group of cows. Their disgust with having to dwell on such rocky terrain mirrored ours as several stood and took a shit upon seeing us. I'm sure the reader is as charmed as the spectator. Magnifique.
From there the hike progressed slowly. Moving slowly down the dried riverbed, any hopes of reaching the hot springs before dark were dashed when the group failed to take note of the 90 degree turn veering onto a path through the forest that led to the springs. The route was well-marked; comments were actually made about the sign ("Oh... look... that way leads towards a lake... fun."). Yet the thought never crossed our minds that this was the road we wanted to take. Whoops.
We did figure it out, however. Just not until we had spent over an hour traveling in the opposite direction. Double whoops.
Turning back, we reached the path with only about an hour of light left. Covering as much ground as the fading sunlight would allow, we eventually settled down for the night on the banks of the aforementioned lake. It was not until morning that any view of the water was available.
Though there was little that was extraordinary about this particular tramp up until this point, a significant event was beginning unfold, the ramifications of which would not be known until the following day.
As we walked through the forest searching for a suitable camping location, a twinge began to ripple throughout the side of my knee. Only a dull ache as we walked, the discomfort was quickly dismissed as we cursed ourselves for failing to locate the correct trail.
When we awoke, however, the feeling that had been written off as nothing more than soreness due to ineffective stretching remained. In fact, the pain had not been extinguished at all. It was still very evident, and slightly disconcerting.
I have never had any serious injuries of any kind; been very fortunate in this regard. But if I were to have to choose the one injury I would most like to avoid, it would be anything associated with the knees. I look at it like this: your knees are important. The ability to walk is important. When hiking up and down steep terrain, a pair of functioning legs is important. As we packed up our camp and set off to find the hot springs, I was rapidly becoming more and more concerned.
Not knowing this at the time (the visit to the health clinic upon our return revealed the diagnosis), the pain being experienced was the first symptom of iliotibial band syndrome, or ITBS. The iliotibial band is a strip of tissue that extends from your pelvis down just below your knee. When the knee is extended and contracted repeatedly, the band (especially if poorly stretched) can rub against part of the femur, causing an increase in friction and, subsequently, intense pain.
The best remedy for ITBS is ice, stretching, and rest. Keep in mind that I discovered this injury on April 11. I will not refer to it in any future writing, but it did not fade quickly. At points it was excruciating. The second day of Otehake was one such point.
And really, there is not a whole lot more to say about the path to the hot springs. For a long time we continued to push through the forest, not exactly sure of how much more ground we needed to cover before discovering the pools. Finally, the forest opened up.
And back onto the riverbed we went.
Winding our way along the bank, the water moved rather quickly in some parts. Depth was difficult to gauge, and when we did have to cross to the opposite side, we did so cautiously.
But how blue the water was. Feeling nice on the feet after dragging them across kilometers of pointed rocks, at times the route called for travelers to wade in up to their waists. Though it looks sunny and gorgeous, the temperature was not that warm outside. And the water was even cooler.
Yet onwards we moved, confident that the springs would be reached... eventually. The unintended detour on the previous day had thrown off our whole concept of time and distance, and combined with the fact that we were not confident at which point on the map the pools were located, the journey took on a hesitant tone.
Then, suddenly, an oddly welcome scent wafted in our directions.
Sulfur.
Only a few more bends in the river, a few more false discoveries, and the real hot springs were finally located.
Wasting little time, clothing was discarded and a good soak was had. To the victors...
The soaking lasted much shorter than we would have liked. Due to our poor concept of time, we had managed to leave for ourselves only half an hour of rest before we had to begin heading back from where we came. One of the worst consequences of the change is seasons is the earlier sunsets, and if there was any possibility of reaching the carpark before twilight, there was little choice. So move we did.
Back through the forest, back past the lake where we had camped, back by where I had felt the initial irk in the knee (did I say I wouldn't refer to it again...?)
In truth, I find it hard to separate this trip from the shocking pain that had developed in my leg. At points it would take my breath away. It was debilitating. But what choice was there? Ruining the trip for others was not an option, and once the hot springs had been reached, the only thing to be done was to hike back out.
What began as a slight ache progressed to a minor annoyance, then to somewhat of a hindrance, and finally, I arrived back at the car as a complete liability. Worthless, infuriating knee. So great was my annoyance that I decided the best way to punish it was to push it more, to work it harder. It may bend, but it won't break. Oh, God, please don't let it be an MCL or ACL...
Sickening. Please look at foliage shots while I bury my face in my hands, massaging my eyes while slowly shaking my head.
And the landscape.
This next shot was taken shortly before the car came back into view.
Quite the conclusion to the trip.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. It is easier to appreciate now, looking back from the comfort of a reclining chair, without anxiety and panic surging through the body at the prospect of having suffered a serious knee injury.
I will be the first to admit that I am biased against Otehake. Out of sheer spite I nearly omitted this trip entirely. Deleted it from my memory. Erased the pain and frustration from my computer as well as my brain.
Sadly, it is not that simple to perform such an act. The Otehake Hot Springs were visited by four of us on that April weekend, and for three of us, they were thoroughly enjoyed. One, not so much.
Eh, okay. There were times when I did my best to feign pleasure. But only briefly. And only for the sake of the camera.
Convinced?
solid read.
ReplyDeletebut you are a whiney bitch!
landscapes are beautiful however.