🗓️ October 27, 2025

🏁 Kilometers : 161

Four in the morning, it's still dark. The tent is dripping with moisture, the sleeping bag feels damp. It's particularly cold this morning, but with a long day ahead, I need to get moving. I methodically pack my things, following a routine that's becoming quite well-established. I've been on the road for a week already.We've found our rhythm with our group of five; we meet up to share the evening, but during the day we each walk alone. The day before, however, Steffie and I had decided to walk together today. Georges has been with a friend for two days; we'll meet up with him this evening. Ben is still suffering from blisters on his feet, and his face has been closed off for three days; we're not sure of his intentions. Steve tells us he's decided not to attempt today's challenge and will meet us at another point in a few days; the day before, he spoke with a local who completely discouraged him about the day's difficulties and the upcoming weather forecast.

The crossing ahead of us today looks difficult. Much like Ninety Mile Beach, the Raetea forest is legendary in the Te Araroa community. The accounts of those who have already crossed it are sometimes daunting: "mud up to our knees," "12 to 14 hours to reach the end," "the muddiest section of these 3,000 km," "repeated falls"... After breakfast, we set off at 5:45 a.m. with our headlamps, even though we won't be using them for very long. We walk along the edge of the forest, not yet under the canopy of trees, and dawn is already breaking, easily revealing the path ahead. The weather seems clear, the sky gradually losing its stars in favor of still-timid colors.After winding along a path for three-quarters of an hour, we enter the forest. The path gives way to a trail, which itself disappears, leaving only a sort of more or less clear passage in the middle of a seemingly impenetrable forest. Mud begins to appear, at first occasionally, then repeatedly, before becoming omnipresent. Countless roots also join the party. The peaks of the mountain range don't seem very high, 744 meters for the highest point of Raetea. But with a trail like this, we understand that it will indeed take us a long time to get through it. We climb a steep slope, stepping over high roots, constantly trying to avoid the mud, and we bless our hiking poles, which give us more stability. We decide to start a competition to see who will fall the most. Five minutes later, I open the scoring with a magnificent sequence: a back slide, a kind of pathetic triple axel, and a back-first landing in the mud. We're in stitches !

The forest around us is like a jungle. We have a passageway, of course, but the rest is a veritable wall of vegetation. The trees are tall, covered in lichen and all sorts of other plants. It seems to us that each tree has its own unique biodiversity, given the sheer number of plants clinging to its trunk and branches. Meanwhile, the sky has clouded over, a thick fog now enveloping Raetea, giving it an even more mysterious air. For fans of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, welcome to Fangorn (and for those who don't know it, Fangorn is a very old forest where the trees are alive, capable of thinking, speaking, and even moving). Moreover, I'm careful not to dig the tips of my hiking poles into the thick roots; I don't want to anger the trees. We don't and won't see anyone all day. There isn't a single human-made structure. We are here in the heart of the forest kingdom, and the trees are its guardians. We think we're making good time, and yet the obstacles are so numerous and so close together that we cover very little ground. On the most difficult section, we only manage three kilometers in two hours. Steffie ties the score with a spectacular fall on her backside in the mud. We perform acrobatics to avoid getting dirty and compete to find ways around the worst muddy sections. I hear a fall behind me followed by a burst of laughter; I think Steffie has just taken the lead! Our shoes are now an indescribable color, the bottoms of our trousers would make the court at Versailles blush. The peaks come one after another, punctuated by numerous ascents and descents. A long stretch is along the ridges, giving us views of the immense forest. But despite the difficulty of our progress, we wouldn't trade our place for anything in the world. We take such pleasure in tackling the challenges that come our way. We feel so privileged to be in such an exceptional, pure, untouched place. It seems we are traversing an area that would have been no different if humankind had never existed.

After hours of scrambling, we feel ourselves descending several hundred meters; the end is beginning to loom. We hear a noise behind us, and what a surprise it is to find Ben, his face beaming! Having set off 45 minutes after us, he managed to catch up, and it seems he took particular pleasure in wading through the mud today. So, the three of us finish the last five kilometers together. The path descends gently on this side of the mountain. The mud begins to become more patchy. I take one last fall, which ties the score; no winner today. We reach the bottom of the mountain, the forest opens up so suddenly it feels like we're going from shadow to light. The woods give way to a stretch of lush grass, and we sprawl out on it, tired, dirty, our muscles aching. It took us 8 hours and 15 minutes to finish; Ben took 7 hours and 30 minutes. 

Raetea let us pass.