A leg injury brought big tramping trips to a temporary end for one couple, but it didn’t mean the end of all adventure.

Last summer my husband David seriously injured his achilles and calf. The result was severe curtailment of trips into the hills together. I did manage to get out with others, but David was unable to do any tramping. For a long time, even easy, flat, short walks caused pain. 

It’s no fun. Most outdoorsy people I know, over the age of 50, tell me they are dealing with some sort of niggle in their body. A lot of us even have multiple niggles. Knees, shoulders, wrists, ankles…. Over the years David and I have increased our intake of ‘Vitamins I and P’ – anti-inflammatories and Paracetamol – while tramping. It’s helped ease the pain of stiff knees, sprained ankles, wrenched shoulders, sore backs.

This time though it was different. David’s physio told him that next summer’s tramping depended entirely on the time he allowed for the injury to recover. He recommended David didn’t tramp for three to four months: he was literally grounded. We had to re-think our adventures, and be creative in the trips we could do.

When his calf started to improve, we used three short overnight trips close to home to gently ease him back into the hills, and to test his recovery. On our first trip we walked for 10 minutes off a nature trail, pitched the tent and spent the night in the forest. We heard ruru calling, had a sleep in and woke to bellbirds. After months of not tramping together, our cups felt well and truly filled. 

Testing the sore calf a bit more, for our second trip we walked down an easy track to a beach campsite and spent the night. We took two hours to do what was usually a one-hour walk, along the way photographing moss and other understorey plants in the luscious West Coast rainforest. We wandered aimlessly along the beach, had a large bonfire and enjoyed a beautiful sunset. The sandflies were merciless, but it was a wonderful trip away.

A couple of weeks later we tried going uphill. We chose an easy two-hour off-track walk to a small tarn 500m above Haast Pass. David’s pack was light; he carried only his sleeping bag and clothes, and I carried everything else. It was so nice to be back camping above the bushline together in an environment we both love. A good friend joined us and we whiled away the evening taking photos and enjoying the views to Mt Brewster. The next day David’s calf felt fine enough for us to walk up Mt Cross, a further hour on. This was an added bonus and hadn’t been on the agenda.

Through the whole summer we were very cautious, heeding the physio’s advice and knowing we needed to play the long game. By autumn David’s calf had improved enough for us to enjoy some longer trips. 

What lessons did we learn from this injury? The most obvious is that patience pays. But more importantly, we were forced to reflect on what an outdoor adventure really is. We were reminded that micro adventures can be enjoyable and fulfilling. We knew of this from when our children were young but had since forgotten it. With young kids we were content with shorter walks, camping at road ends or pitching the tent an hour’s walk from the car. We were genuinely surprised at how much we loved our night out, 20 minutes from the car and just 10 minutes’ walk off a nature trail.

Although at times David felt frustrated, it was important to keep it in perspective: many people suffer from things that are way more severe than a calf injury. We were grateful for what we could do and were reminded that there’s always joy to be found in the outdoors.