An attempted murder, a hypothermic friend and a gratuitous amount of carbs:

“I can’t use my hands”

Adventure, camaraderie, and unexpected challenges await you in this account of a fastpacking journey that stands as a reminder that you’re never too far away from being in the sh💩t.

Kate Morrison gives an honest and transparent account of their adventure on the Hope-Kiwi track, where five friends embark on a surprise birthday trip involving lots of white powder and hotboxing with a few curve balls that turn the trip into a test of teamwork and resilience.

Take it away, Kate.

An attempted murder, a hypothermic friend and a gratuitous amount of carbs:

This Is Fastpacking.

“Can you take your bag off?”

“I can’t use my hands.”

My friend shivered uncontrollably, soaked through and covered in snowdrift.

We were still a 500m drop from the valley floor and I knew if she didn’t start running that she would be in trouble.

At 7am on a wet Saturday morning, five very excited runners crammed into the Adventure Prius and drove to Windy Point. One of these runners had no idea what she was in for – Jen was on a surprise birthday trip and wouldn’t find out the group route intel until 7pm that day.

Getting out of the car we were stoked to find that while it was a bit wet around, it wasn’t raining anymore!

We shoved on our fastpacks and delighted in the smallness of them.

“Tramping is dead to us”, we proclaimed,

“for we are now fast packers.”

Gone are the days of 20kg canvas packs – a new horizon has dawned of ultra-light sack-bags filled with sugar-based snacks and just enough clothes to get us through a wintery overnighter.

Jogging off up the Hope-Kiwi track, I had the vague feeling that Jen-the-Topo-Queen had already guessed most of our route. Our destination for the first day was Top Hope hut, some 25kms up the Hope River. The track starts with a windy, open route through farmland, manuka and bracken fields. After a few kms we entered a lovely rolling terrace covered in beech forest. The bellbirds were singing, the rain was still holding off and our group was frothing. Cue the first incident: an attempted murder.

The comrades regrouped and stopped for a quick snack as it had been a few hours of running now and I’m quite anal about getting food intake in. Liam turned to Alastair, a generous glint in his eye and offered him an entire row of his peanut chocolate block.

Stoked at the free carb-replenishment opportunity, Al took a massive bite into it. He paused. Al looked at Liam. Liam looked at Al. Al’s eyes bulged, and his mouth heaved. “PEANUTS?”