Words cannot convey my grief and despair at the loss of our gorgeous tramping friend Grace. Her name said it all. She was always gracious, extremely generous and had a great sense of adventure and fun. She brought out the best in us with her constant smile, great sense of humour and of coarse her silliness. She always had us laughing. Her absence was always missed when she wasn’t there. Where’s Grace? She called me her tramping sister. We had each others backs. We shared meals. She saved me the best spot on the bus for overnight sleeping. With other club members we had such fabulous trips and a great tramping bond. For someone so outgoing, Grace was private about her personal life. We had to respect that. I am so sad to not be there for her memorial. I’d love to hold up my walking poles and salute her. She has been in my thoughts constantly as I hike the fantastic Italian Dolomites. She is edging me on and is with my every step. I used the glue she gave me today. The Labrador sprawled in front of the fire would have had her so excited. And every dog we met on the track. We’d have had to drag her back in route. I know she will always be in my thoughts when I tramp. A missing team member. I wish I could be there to join you to remember and share our loss. I would be happy to help in any way possible. Love to you all 🥾🏔️❤️🥰🏖️🌊🌋🐶

I have so many fond memories of swimming with Grace. There’s usually only a small group of us who want to go in the water — especially when it’s cold— and Grace was always one of them. She didn’t just get in, she loved it. She had such joy in the water. I will cherish the memory of our most recent swim at Te Arai on May 4. The sun was shining, the water was sparkling and we had a beautiful time. It’s painful now to look back on that day, not knowing then how much Grace was struggling. I wish Grace had shared how hard it was. I wish I had asked her more probing questions. We’d often swap ideas about tramping gear — especially budget-friendly ideas. I just sent Grace a message on Monday night about gaiters, expecting her usual quick and friendly reply. When none came, I had no idea she had already passed. Grace cared deeply — about people, animals, the environment. When our son had been seriously unwell, Grace sent heartfelt messages and gave me a big hug on our next trip together. She shared beautiful photos, mostly of animals, and little video clips she thought our son would enjoy. She especially loved the donkeys at the Mahurangi reserve. I remember how disappointed Grace was to miss the Heaphy tramp last year because she had taken on a job caring for kiwi birds. It was a volunteer role, but she treated it with high levels of commitment. Grace sent me a lovely message wishing me well for the Te Araroa trail. I’ll carry her encouragement with me over the years as I do it in sections. Grace’s passing is a heartbreaking reminder that we don’t always know what someone is going through, even when they seem bubbly and cheery. I hope this tragic loss encourages us all to reach out and honestly share when we’re struggling, and to keep checking in on each other — even when everything looks fine on the surface. I miss you, Grace. I always will.