Joy's and my path crossed on the edge of the Ohau River. Her intention was to fill up her water there and rejoin the trail. My own intention was to follow the river upstream to the base of the Tararua Mountains. A short-cut I heard about from an ex- guide.
I had every ambition to clamber, hurdle, throw, slosh and stumble my way to the top of the ridge line as quick as I could and very much on my own.
However, after answering the quiet queries of Joy, I watched her mind ticking over as her eyes widened at the prospect of avoiding unnessecary kilometres and ascension on the "normal" way of Te Araroa. The 3000 kilometres journey we had both undertaken individually this year.
Intrigue turned to ideas and ideas to decisions- to save her asking, I asked her myself:
"Would you like to come with me?"
She nodded and grinned and turned around to retrieve her pack she left a few hundred meters back. I called to Joy that I would wait for her as I watched her disappear back into the creaky and cooling shades of green forest.
After kicking a few rocks and watching the rivers' rapids, Joy popped back into view with a pack so large that it hid two thirds of her body.
I hid my shock, probably poorly, but all doubts left me as soon as we started down the Ohau River and conversation started to flow between us. In doubts place was awe, at 72 years old Joy was undertaking Te Araroa. An ex- teacher and full-time plant enthusiast. She named and taught me every native flower, tree and shrub she could find.
We got to know each other as I stumbled across and into river rock pools and she, with slow grace, avoided getting wet with thoughtful and consistent steps.
Over the next three days I walked with Joy over the Tararua Mountain ranges until I knew she didn't need me anymore. It was days of scrambling, climbing and hauling each other across thin ridge-lines. But still, upon reflection almost 6 months after completing the trail, these were my most favourite and affirming days on trail.
Thankyou Joy.