The map stays blank. The route is a secret. And yet, teams keep coming back for more. That’s the pull of the ONE GODZONE Adventure Race, where anything can happen and uncertainty isn’t a risk - it’s the whole point. With entries now open for Chapter 13 in Aoraki / Mount Cook, another expedition into the unknown is about to unfold, set against some of the most dramatic and demanding terrain in Aotearoa.
To mark the rise of this epic GODZONE edition and to invite teams back into one of the most iconic and unforgiving landscapes in Aotearoa, we look back at Chapter 12 through the eyes of Natalie Gallant, team captain of Team Macpac. Her experience in Marlborough captures exactly what makes GODZONE so compelling: the thrill of the course, the reality of pushing beyond limits, and the quiet confidence that comes from navigating both. As preparations for Chapter 13 – Aoraki MT Cook take off, her reflections offer a powerful glimpse into what awaits those ready to step into the wild.
When you think about GODZONE Chapter 12 as this almost mythical 550–700 km journey through secret terrain, with the route only revealed just before the start, how does that uncertainty feed into your mindset and strategy?
Living in Marlborough there was so much pre-race speculation on where the course might go, I found it really exciting and gave the whole region such a buzz. It seemed everyone felt part of the event even if they weren’t competing. But of course, you only route plan based on your knowledge of accessible tracks, forgetting so much is on private farmland which is awesome as you find yourself in places you never would otherwise get to see. It’s knowing that, or the not knowing that makes it a real adventure. I find it really thrilling and yes liberating too exploring untapped places in a region I thought I knew well!
Marlborough’s rugged rivers, dense bush, and coastal ridges defined this chapter of GODZONE. What was one element of the environment you dreamed about tackling, and one you quietly feared? How did those expectations compare to the reality once you were out there?
I’m most at home in the mountains so tackling anything up high on foot gave me that excited buzz and Mt Barometer definitely fed the soul for that. The weather, however, was intense on that 50km trek stage – temperatures soared and at 2pm in the afternoon on an open ridge, baking sun and no shade we found our pace slower than expected as we battled with our internal thermometers. A 10 minute lay down with a body part in what scraggly patch of shade we could find helped but it was tough going. I also never have issues with my feet, yet wearing a new version of my beloved trainer (which turned out bigger than the previous version) caused a heap of blister issues when my feet got wet and hot. I genuinely thought it was game over! Good call from my team mates to deal with hot spots earlier rather than push on to the point of no redeem. The multiple pauses felt time consuming, but I think it saved my feet in the long run!
I was apprehensive about the length of the paddles in the Marlborough sounds. In the last Godzone, when paddling on flat lakes at night, I’d fall asleep sideways and wake up as I hit the side, I feared a repeat of that but didn’t fancy falling into the ocean! Luckily a combination of moving water and some daylight meant I only had one sleep paddle, and I fell backwards, not sideways!
Adventure racing takes you deep into remote places with very limited outside contact. How does being so disconnected from the world change how you see yourself, your personal limits, and what you’re capable of?
I definitely had a moment climbing up Canterbury Spur with my bike on my back in horizontal rain and gusting wind thinking “the only person getting you out of this is you, so suck it up and keep climbing!” With the extra weight on my back and an unstable surface under foot, each step up felt unnerving and bigger than my abilities, it felt like I purposefully needed to engage every muscle in my leg to know my step up wouldn’t end in a fall backwards.
And if you took your bike off your back for a quick rest you got instantly cold so there was no choice but get it back on and keep climbing. The combination of perfectly timed weather, fatigue and work intensity really pushed me. I remember using the mantra ‘everything is temporary’, a reminder there would be an end. I look back now and feel proud of just getting it done and strangely it being a great memory. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that…
Our final packraft across the top of the sounds was really intense too due to the weather bomb that was striking. We hopped onto the water at the same time as first place team Rab -remembering we had been short coursed- so this added a bit of excitement. This section took real team work to manage the steering. I mentally peaked toward the end as we were getting dragged by the ferocious winds into a mussel farm; I genuinely thought if our skeg (fin) caught on the thick ropes we were done as our packraft would have flown to Wellington before our heads surfaced from the water.
I felt like I placed complete faith in my teammate Jake at this point, to keep me calm and on task whilst the wind and waves were raging around us. Turns out we were able to navigate the ropes and buoys just fine. It’s doing stressful and exhilarating things like that, when your forced into a situation that you just have to deal with, that have flow on effect back into home and work life. I’ve gained a quiet confidence just from tackling scenarios like this.
GODZONE checkpoints are moments where that outside world briefly comes back into focus. Would you ideally prefer to move through the race without that contact, staying fully inside your personal and team bubble, or are those encounters moments you actually look forward to?
I’ve only experienced GODZONE since having the supported format. Knowing you’ll see familiar faces with hot food and coffee is something amazing to look forward to, and kudos to our crew who did a phenomenal job! They receive the cheese toasty award!! Many teams lost members through injury /illness so having a support crew as a mental prop for them at these points were invaluable. On the flip side I did find it broke my concentration and the excitement felt overwhelming at times. I’d like to experience an unsupported adventure race to truly know a preference. Unsupported vs supported are really two different races I think, and both are to be embraced.
Team MacPac had to adapt mid-race due to injury and substitutions. When and how do you start rewriting the plan along the way, both as a team and as an individual, and how did that process shape your personal experience of this race?
As soon as someone is injured you adapt in whatever way is needed to keep moving forward, but sometimes you don’t always know the extent of the injury at the time. Adrenaline is high, its dark, people are moving past you, it’s hard to fully assess or appreciate what’s happened apart from knowing there’s no wounds to be patched and they are still able to walk so we keep moving forward. I suspected Meg had bruised her ribs falling onto a tree but as the stages went on it became evident it was more than that. The pain she fought through to keep the team going was phenomenal, it’s hard to comprehend her mental capacity to tolerate this. Superhuman efforts, really!
GODZONE isn’t just a physical challenge, it’s also deeply social, with teammates sharing space, decisions, and emotions for days on end. How do you navigate the emotional terrain of relationships when everyone is exhausted, depleted, and vulnerable?
Laughter! I think we naturally did a really good job of joking & keeping things fun. We were all out there because we wanted to be, so even when things felt tough, no one complained, and everyone just had great attitudes all round.
What’s one thing about this race you’d never be able to explain to spectators watching from home, something that only people who go truly deep into a race like GODZONE can understand?
How downright feral you can get! People probably don’t want to read this, but I clearly remember at one transition my hands down my bib-shorts putting anti-chafe on and Meg’s there simultaneously tipping mouth wash into my mouth. One of those crack up moments when we realise how ridiculous we must look!
More seriously though, it would probably be how comfortable you become with sharing long silences and at other times having deep conversations and an openness in sharing things you might never normally do. I think it’s the freedom of movement in wild places, that gives space for this kind of open connection with each other.
You had to watch Meg, your teammate and close friend get injured, push on while hurt, and eventually be forced to leave the race. What was that experience like for you, and how did you balance the emotional weight of that moment with the need to keep moving, look after your team, and continue the race yourself?
It felt like heart ache, or an emotional pain that’s hard to explain. Meg had worked so hard to be there and to have such an unfortunate accident and so early on, I was just gutted for her.
All kinds of thoughts ended up running through my head, like: “I got Meg into his, I’m responsible for this”. But I had to dismiss them because I knew Meg wouldn’t be thinking that.
Above all I felt a deep sense of empathy and knew she was hurting to a far greater extent than she was letting on. I think clarifying that to the boys was helpful both in their understanding of her need for assistance, like carrying her bike through rivers, and in mentally preparing them that she would be dropping out the race. They likely had their suspicions but in telling them where my thoughts were at perhaps allowed more processing time for our change in mentality from competing to becoming unranked and completing the short course.
We left Meg in the hands of the medical team at the Rainbow transition, and I just remember everything being so busy after that, the three of us – Jake, Al and I were on the clock to get into the canyoning section before they closed it. It sounds unemotional but I felt like there was no time to process loosening her at that point. I just had to keep a next step focused mindset if there was a possibility to keep us moving forward.
To continue GODZONE we now had to find a 4th team member. I raced over to our Outward Bound crew friends and posed the question: “do any of you want to join our team?” It was ridiculous of me not to ask Catherine, our chief crew member who was fully qualified to do so, but my fatigued brain simply couldn’t process that someone else could step into her role. Eventually, both Brydhi and Catherine took turns joining us for the remainder of the course, and what incredible assets they both were!
It's after the race when all the processing went on. I felt this insane mental fatigue and feel it was in part related to how heavy hearted I was for Meg and decision making around that. The mental fight between it shouldn’t be like: ‘why Meg?’ versus ‘shit happens so deal with it’.
Adventure racing is often described as life changing. Looking back now, what does GODZONE Chapter 12 represent for you personally?
Godzone chapter 12 gave me a baptism of fire into leadership and tough decision making. Individually all our team members were great leaders with an array of experience across the board, so stepping into the position of Team Captain felt an extra challenge of itself. I’m proud of not shying away from it, embracing it and giving it my best shot. I have heaps to learn but I see gaining skills like this a huge way of personal growth, one I’m now really motivated to peruse.
If you had to describe GODZONE Chapter 12 as a character, what kind of personality would it have and why?
Thor – the Norse god of storms, strength and protection. Marlborough threw some gnarly weather systems at us, we had strength to embrace them and muster on through, and when Thor got angrier, GODONE put a halt to climbing Mt Stokes and paused the race to allow his tantrum to calm down!
Keen to be part of the GODZONE adventure?
Check here www.godzoneadventure.com for more information.
Photo credits: Alexandre Socci & Karn Christian