One thing that had been stressing me a little was rain gear.

Having spent a lot of time bike packing around New Zealand last year, I’d already learnt an important lesson: when the weather turns bad, good waterproof gear isn't a luxury, it's essential. There’s nothing quite like being several hours into a wet day and discovering that your supposedly waterproof gear isn't!

Thankfully, Bushbuck have come to the rescue. As supporters of my Blue September fundraising challenge, they have supplied me with some seriously impressive gear, and I couldn't be happier with it.

I've been really impressed with the quality, materials and ruggedness of everything I've received. This isn't lightweight gear that feels like it will fall apart after a few days on the trail, it feels built for the sort of conditions I'm likely to encounter in the South Island.

For my Queenstown to St Arnaud Te Araroa fundraising hike, I'll be putting the following Bushbuck gear through its paces:

🧥 Bushbuck Alpine Lightweight Waterproof Jacket

👖 Bushbuck Venture Pants 2.0

⛺ Bushbuck Bivlite 8000 Lightweight Camping Tarp

🎒 Bushbuck Glacier 85L Waterproof Backpack Rain Cover

The Alpine jacket in particular has given me a lot more confidence. I'm heading into the South Island in spring, where conditions can change quickly, and knowing I've got serious waterproof protection is one less thing to worry about.

A huge thank you to Bushbuck for getting behind my fundraising challenge and helping me prepare for what is going to be a pretty demanding 33 days on the trail.

I'll be putting this gear to the ultimate test — 730+ kilometres, day after day, whatever the South Island weather decides to throw at me.

And if it rains?

Bring it on. 🌧️🥾💙

If you'd like to support my Blue September fundraising challenge, every donation helps raise awareness and funds for prostate cancer research and support in New Zealand.

To make this hike possible, I’ve had to plan carefully for the long stretches between towns along the route. I’ve created a series of resupply packages, each containing a day’s worth of food.

Inspired by watching far too many MRE reviews on YouTube, I’ve focused on making each day’s food as light and calorie dense as possible. They may not be nutritionally perfect, but they’ll provide enough energy to get me through a long day on the trail!

One parcel is now on its way to Twizel, a huge thank you to Maria at Mackenzie Tourism Trade & Marketing for helping me with the resupply.

The second parcel is heading to Geraldine, and a big shout-out to Demelza at the Geraldine Community Vehicle Trust for helping me out there. Your support makes a real difference.

When you're carrying everything you need on your back, every gram matters. Having these resupply points means I can keep my pack weight down while still carrying enough food to tackle the 730km journey.

A couple of photos of the packages heading off to their destinations. 

I thought it was probably time to set up my new tent and actually sleep in it, especially since it’s been about a year since I last used it!

There’s not much point heading off on a 700+ km solo hike with untested gear, so tonight is a bit of a dress rehearsal for the Te Araroa. The tent is up, and now I’m going to see how everything performs overnight.

My sleeping setup is pretty simple:

Sleeping mat, the main support underneath me. Inflatable mattress, I’m using this mainly for extra insulation and warmth. That layer of air between me and the cold ground can make a big difference. Inflatable pillow, honestly, a game changer! After years of making do with rolled-up clothing, having a proper pillow makes sleeping outdoors considerably more comfortable. Down sleeping bag, my main source of warmth for the night.

It might look like I’m just camping in the backyard, but there’s a purpose to it. When I’m out on the trail, I’ll be relying on this gear every night, often after walking 25–30 km with a loaded pack. Getting a good night's sleep is going to be just as important as the walking itself.

On the 14th of September I start walking. Queenstown to St Arnaud, the Te Araroa Trail, one month, no support crew. 

By the time I finish on the 16th of October I'll have covered 785 kilometres on foot, through the Southern Alps and into Nelson Lakes.

I'll cross two rivers I won't attempt on foot. I'll climb passes over 1,900 metres with a full pack. There's one stretch, eleven days long, where I won't see a shop or a resupply point at all.

I've coached people for over 40 years. Marathons, lifestyle changes, the parts of life that ask more of you than you think you have. Most of that coaching happened from the outside. This time I'm the one carrying the pack.

I'm doing it to raise money for Blue September and the Prostate Cancer Foundation NZ. Every donation goes toward research and support that reaches men and families who need it.

I've put together the full day by day schedule, attached below, if you want to follow along and see roughly where I am on the trail on any given day.

If you can spare something for the cause, I'd be grateful. If you can't, a message of support means just as much when I'm three weeks in and tired.

Sean

Full Schedule on My face book Page

I wasn't planning on buying new hiking boots.

Then these came up in an end-of-season sale at half price — and, well… I couldn't resist. 😂

It wasn't until I put the new boots beside my old ones that I realised just how much mileage those old boots have actually done. The difference is pretty dramatic.

The old pair has been with me through plenty of adventures, but looking at the tread now, I don't think they've got another 730–860 km in them — especially with a fully loaded pack and the terrain I'm about to tackle.

So, an unplanned purchase has turned into a pretty important piece of preparation for my Blue September solo hike from Queenstown to St Arnaud.

New boots.

Broken-in legs.

A long way to walk.

730+ km for Dad. 💙

If you'd like to support the challenge and help raise funds for prostate cancer awareness and support, you can follow the journey and donate here.

The Te Araroa pack turned up this week. I laid it all out on the kitchen table like a kid on Christmas morning, except the presents are a trail pass, a bag tag, and a pledge card.

There's a lot in the box. A trail cloth. A patch. A walker card for the 2026-27 season., a small paua pendant on a cord, a taonga, a gift of love from the land. It comes with a promise attached, not to me, but from me. The Te Araroa Pledge asks you to walk with care and respect, to leave the places you pass through better than you found them.

I'll take that seriously. Solo and unsupported from Queenstown to St Arnaud is not a trip where you get to be careless, with the land or with yourself.

The trail app is in there too, the official navigation tool, offline topographic maps, elevation profiles, hut and campsite locations. I've downloaded it and poked around the section-by-section notes for the bits ahead of me. It's the closest thing I have to a promise I won't end up bushwhacking through unmarked scrub on vibes and a compass bearing.

None of this replaces the actual walking, though. My baseline test hike a couple of weeks ago covered just under 33 kilometres in six hours, with over 1,600 metres of climbing. That's roughly the daily distance I'll need to hold, day after day, for about a month straight, to get from Queenstown to St Arnaud on my own two feet. One good day proves nothing. Thirty of them in a row is the actual test.

This walk is for Blue September, raising funds for the Prostate Cancer Foundation of New Zealand. It's a cause that matters to a lot of men I know, and it's the kind of thing that's easy to put off talking about until it isn't easy anymore. I'd rather walk a long way and make some noise about it now.

More updates as the kilometres add up. For now, the gear is unpacked, the pledge is signed in spirit, and the countdown to Queenstown has properly begun.

As the countdown has begun, I thought I'd share a gear check, what I already have and what I still need to organise.

Most of this gear has already been tested on previous adventures, including the Tour Aotearoa and my trek through Nepal. It's been through plenty, but it's all ready for another challenge.

✅ Already sorted

* 65L backpack

* Lightweight single-person tent (Intents)

* Bushbuck tarp

* Sleeping bag

* Sleeping pad

* Inflatable mattress

* Inflatable pillow

* Water purifier

* Gas cooker, canister and pot

* Hiking boots

* Wool socks

* Bushbuck Venture 2 hiking pants

* Hiking shorts

* Merino thermals

* Gloves

* Hiking poles

* Head torch

* Dry bags

* First aid kit

🛒 Still to organise

* Rain gear

* A few other odds and ends

Training is only one part of preparing for an adventure like this. There's also the planning, the logistics, and making sure every piece of gear has earned its place in the pack. Every item has a purpose, and every kilogram matters when you're carrying it all yourself.

The checklist is getting shorter, and that's always a good feeling.

One step closer.

It's really easy to sign up to something, but at some point, the reality of the endeavour ahead is going to become apparent. 

Six weeks from now I'll be standing in Queenstown with a 65L pack on my back, about to walk 730 kilometres to St Arnaud. Ten kilometres for every year since I lost Dad. One step at a time, the way most big things get done.

Before any of that, I needed a number. Not a feeling, not a guess. An actual baseline for where my body is right now, today, before six weeks of training turns it into something else.

So on Wednesday I laced up and went and got one.

32.66 km. 6 hours flat on the move, 7:07 elapsed once you count the stops. An average pace of 11:03 per km. 1,654 metres of elevation gain. 41,690 steps. 1,344 calories.

I'll be honest, the gap between moving time and elapsed time tells its own story. An hour and seven minutes of standing around, whether that was navigation, photos, or just needing a breather, is worth paying attention to. On the trail proper, that adds up fast over 730 km.

The pace sits where I'd expect for a loaded test hike with that much climbing in it. Not fast. Not meant to be. This wasn't a session to chase a number; it was a session to find one.

I've stood at enough start lines to know the temptation. Look at a session like this and immediately start grading it against some version of myself from Nepal, or the Tour Aotearoa, or Riverhead Forest ten years ago. That's a losing game. This body, on this Wednesday, carrying this pack, produced these numbers. That's the only comparison that means anything right now.

What I actually want from a baseline is simpler. Where's the fitness sitting. Where's the pace sitting under load. Where does the elevation start to bite. And where's the time leaking away that I could get back with better habits on the trail.

That elapsed time gap is where I'll start.

Six weeks isn't long to build fitness for 730 km through the South Island, but it's not meant to be. The distance itself will do most of the training once I'm out there. What these six weeks need to do is close the obvious gaps, get the moving-to-elapsed ratio tighter, get comfortable under real pack weight over back-to-back days, and make sure the legs and feet have already met the kind of climbing Waiau Pass and Stag Saddle are going to throw at them.

This number is the line everything else gets measured against. In six weeks I'll test again and see what moved.

September 16th, Queenstown. For Dad.

If you'd like to support the walk, my Blue September fundraising page is here.

This is the route.

As the countdown has begun, I thought I'd share a gear check, what I already have and what I still need to organise. Most of this gear has already been tested on previous adventures, including the Tour Aotearoa and my trek through Nepal. It's been through plenty, but it's all ready for another challenge.