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What a day!! This is hiking at its best. Adventurous, beautiful, a test to the limits, reward at the end. Perfectly epic day!

It didn’t rain! Well not much anyway. Not enough to worry us. So 13 intrepid hikers set off, butterflies in the tummy, hoping to make it to the end.

The first half hour was all downhill. And it was all about mud. Great big swaths of boggy, clayey, gooey mud. So much for the dry, clean shoes. Time to embrace the day. Mud it is!

Not to worry, because the second pass is all about water. And not just a creek crossing. A creek walk! We plunge into the icy water and start slogging. It’s just over 4km straight down the creek. No side track. Just the creek itself. It’s heavenly.

We quickly all break up into smaller groups giving the illusion that we have the whole forest to ourselves. We cross small and large streams trying to find the best route through the rocky passes. The sun glistens off the water and the greenery along both sides of the bank shines. It’s an immensely enjoyable experience.

At the end of the creek walk is a large, inviting waterhole. Here folks have gathered for a break, so a quick dip is not on the cards. Instead, we move into phase 3 of the walk.

Phase 3 consists of what kiwis call ‘siding’. This is traversing the side of a hill on a very small track, often with a potentially damaging fall off to one side. It’s tricky going. The track is tough with tree roots and mud making things slippery and difficult. The forest is lovely however, as we travel adjacent to a vibrant river.

Close to the end of Phase 3 we decided to take a break on a log on the opposite side of the river. No sooner had we sat down when across sloshed a new face. Enter Chris. A Swiss fellow who has lived in NZ for 20 odd years. And can you believe it….we both knew someone from Norfolk!! Right out in the middle of nowhere! Although a small place…Norfolk Islanders are everywhere!

We begin Phase 4 with a steep, steep climb up many, many steps. Before long, we’ve travelled from the creek to the ridge. The forest changes. Massive kauri trees are everywhere. It feels such a privilege to witness them in all their glory. The track traverses several ridge tops and tree routes continue to be a problematic trip hazard. The air is cool and mountainous. It feels like freedom.

Eventually we reach a 4wd track. Just 9.5km left to camp. Another few hours. We start to move quickly, enjoying being able to stretch the legs. It’s starts to spit. And gets heavier and heavier.

We arrive tired and elated into camp. It’s been an epic day. One of those days you hope for when doing this sport. It’s a jostle in the campground for sites again. Particularly because rain is due. Big rain. Dinner is spent huddled under a small shelter. At its completion I scurry to my tent, eager to tuck into my warm sleeping bag and reflect on an amazing day.

It was quite a cold evening. The cat decided to stay in my tent vestibule half the night. Because of the cold, or wanting company I’m not sure. When I emerged from my tent this morning, the landscape was awash with an eerie, white mist. Smoke rising from a cauldron.

I said my farewells to the dog-like cat, and we were on the road by 7.30am.

Comparatively it was a really pleasant walk today along a quiet, gravelly 4WD track.

I spent much of the day making comparisons between Norfolk plants and animals and those of New Zealand. Last time I came to NZ, I didn’t have the knowledge of Norfolk’s species like I do now. This trip, I recognise related species of long leaved Isaacwood, glossy leaved Coprosma, serrated edged Streblus, pre-historic looking procris, giant melky trees and more. I spot cheeky, little grey fantails and colourful blue nufkas. Rurus, or moreporks as we call them, are constant night time callers. Over the past few years I have learnt that Norfolks plants and animals are much more similar to those of NZ, than they are to Australia. It’s so enlightening to see that in practice.

The stars of the day however are the ancient Kauri trees. They tower over the forest, life support for hundreds ferns, orchids and stags growing on their skin. We witness the base of one of these forest giants, it’s girth measuring many metres in diameter.

It’s a long, hot afternoon in camp. The new campsite, designed to limit the spread of the soil borne disease phytophera further into the forest, seems large at first. It shrinks over time however, as more and more walkers arrive, elated and exhausted to the campsite. At last count there are twelve of us here, with reports of more to arrive.

It’s a quietly anxious night for all of us. We all have an arduous day ahead of us. 22km. Expected time to completion….9.5 hours. And if it rains, we can’t go at all. As the sky begins to spit, the campground empties. Everybody has fingers crossed that the rain will stop. Zippers are closed and lights go out. Here’s hoping.

The second part to the Plan B alternate…a full day of roadwalking, before rejoining the trail in the small village of Mangamuka. Fun?

Despite a dewy morning, the clear skies promised another warm day.  The night had been rather disrupted, with party goers, free roaming possums and fireworks all competing to drain me of sleep. It was definitely a dozy start to the day.  Despite this, we were all packed up and ready to make tracks by 7.30am.

This would prove to be a good decision, both in terms of avoiding the blistering sun, and getting out and about before the majority of cars started rushing past.  There was little road verge most of the day, so squeezing up to the side of the road when a particularly large vehicle passed, became the norm.

Although the road walk was hot, sticky, and potentially dangerous, it really was rather interesting.  And nice and flat.  That was a great bonus as well!

The morning consisted of cruising up a valley, lush green paddocks on either side.  We spotted plenty of big, fat turkeys, cows, sheep and babbling brooks.

The second half, though hotter and busier on the road, was more interesting.  A large brackish creek wound its way next to our road, supporting unexpected mangroves and swampland. 

We arrived at the Mangamuka radio station, formerly Red Lion Pub, around 1.30pm.  Our hopes of the Dairy being open with the opportunity to ravish our thirst with cool drinks, was quickly dashed.  Back to the pub with no beer.  And lots of cats.  One in particular is very white and demanding when it comes to food and attention….reminds me of a little dog I know…And miss terribly.

So we have rejoined the trail.  Tomorrow we will be getting off the main road and heading bush again. Hallelujah!

To start with, lets get up to speed logistically.  Aubs and I enjoyed a lovely, restful day off in Ahipara, visiting the cafe again, meandering through the town, enjoying the flying fox in the kids playground, and working on plans for the next few days.

It’s a bit trickier than usual.  At Ahipara the TA is closed.  Has been closed for several years due to kauri dieback disease.  The alternative is to do a 16km roadwalk, along a reasonably busy road into Kaitaia.  From here, most people resupply, and then need to get a further 5km along a stretch of highway to the starting point of the days walk.  This road is even busier, and the TA association themselves urge walkers to get a ride, rather than risk it on the side of the road.

Additionally, the walk today was supposed to traverse through the Ratea forest, renowned for its views and mud alike.  Sadly, a severe storm several months ago devastated the track, with a reported 100 trees downed on the trail.  An alternative route has been devised which departs from a hilltop saddle and ends up in Broadwood, a small town to the south of the trail.

So a fair bit of planning is involved.  Enter Greg.  Our loquacious driver from the first day.  Not only did he agree to drive us into Kaitaia, wait for us to resupply, take us through the drive through at Maccas, and then drop us at the start of the trail, he charged us an absolute pittance for it.  What a legend.  On top of that, his wife delivered us an amazing feed of Thai deliciousness last night for dinner.  Absolute, bloody legend.

And so it was that we were dropped off at the starting point by 9am, bags and bellies fully laden to begin the days adventure.

First off, a road walk of around 16km.  It was a nice soft gravel, and there were very few cars, so it was a lovely morning.  And oh so good to be off that beach.  To have changing scenery.  To see a variety of plants and wildlife and houses and paddocks.  To see corners.  To have hills.  The start of this walk really is brutal. Especially in hindsight, that beach is no joke.

Before too long we arrived at the turnoff to Ratea forest, and began the upwards climb towards the saddle.  It was a lovely gradient, not too steep, and the views across the lush valleys were spectacular.

Up at the saddle, markings made it easy to find the alternative track and from there we motored downhill.  The decision was made at a bubbling brook to take our shoes off and walk across.  Heaven.  The water incredibly cool and soothing on hot feet. 

We are now in Broadwood, and somehow, seem to have been deserted by all other walkers.  I have no idea where they all went today.  We are set up in the local park, and have just witnessed a group of 30 or more horses clip clopping down the road together.  Owners yelling out to us in friendly banter about their mode of travel being so much more quicker and better!

It’s almost 6.30pm now.  The sun is still blazing.  It’s going to be “ramen bombs” for dinner tonight.  And probably an extended discussion between ourselves as to where all the hikers went!

Despite the unsettling night, we were both in good spirits when we got up. Our first town day!! And a rest day tomorrow! And beds and showers and lights, my my.

We’ve got lush accommodation lined up (well, cabins anyway), a short distance, the wind at our back, and a cafe lunch in front. Time to kick it.

We resolved to try and get all the way into Ahipara as a bit of a test / training venture for the day. And we did it!! It was perfect walking conditions. Early morning sun, azure blue waves, no folks around, and a gentle breeze pushing us along.

The whole time I’ve been on 90 mile beach I’ve been thinking of my mum. Pippy shells, all the colours of the rainbow, have littered the shoreline. At the low tide, thousands of sand puffs can be observed, as the pippys push their way to the surface. The birds break them open with their specialised beaks and prize out the molluscs inside. Predated shells are scattered like confetti.

Pippy shells are a conduit to my childhood memories. My mum’s nickname is “Pippy” and the sound of the shells snapping and cracking and crunching underfoot is so ingrained and comforting and treasured. I will always love the colour, texture and sound of those shells.

We made it into the small coastal village by 11am. Quickly settled into our cabins, before venturing to the North Drift cafe for a luncheon feast. Two ice cold, fizzy drinks, toasted sandwich and chips, and an apple and custard muffin for me. Thank you very much!!

Rest day tomorrow. The end of 90 mile beach spells the end of the first chapter and the beginning of a new. Time for some planning, organisation, rest and food. Next up, we’ll be into the mountains!

Another day of waking. Another day of packing up. Another day of beach walking. But this time, under 20km worth!! The excitement was palpable! We got walking.

The highlight of the mornings walk was a mystery chopper, zooming overhead in what seemed to be a grid like pattern. Large cargo load swinging off the base. We wondered what it was for a while, before deciding on some sort of scientific explanation, like LIDAR or similar. That, or it was dispersing toxic gas over all the hikers…

We have met many people on the walk already. Most of them walked the extra 11km into town today, so it’s up to fate as to whether we see them again. Some we got to know a little bit, and others not at all.

Enzo, a young fellow who explained about his job working with teams of Husky dogs in -45 degree temperatures and, alternately, his “ordinary” life working in a pizzeria in France. We nicknamed him Stryder, owing to his dashing, rugged looks and very large walking stride. Stryder hadn’t heard of Lord of the Rings (he was that young!) and resolved to look it up before getting to Tongariro National Park (site of the infamous Mount Doom).

During the conversation, Stryder casually asked if I had heard the horse that he had seen grazing right next to my tent when he got up during the night. Ummmm. No. No I did not. I have been sleeping so well! I put it down to feeling so much more secure at night, having someone that cares about me looking out for me, and heaps of people around. Either that or it could be that I’m just completely buggered!

Janek from Germany, though young, was an absolute pro when it comes to long distance hiking. Conrad, also from Germany (I think) had just completed the Bibbulman in Australia, and come straight over to tackle this track. A young couple and his dad are here from the Netherlands and excited to be going on their first long distance trail. Others we saw regularly, but never actually met.

Now we are here at the campground and are the only hikers in sight. We’ve been greeted in the traditional way by a couple of Maori fellows who were impressed with Aubs Polynesian tattoo and the fact we were from Norfolk Island. Say what you want about our lovely, little island, but it is certainly a conversation starter.

The afternoon was spent wandering around the very small township; trying to entice a loveable, big mutt of a dog over to no avail – he’d just give us a bit of bark and then race around like an idiot; and yarning with, providing counselling to, and learning from a variety of characters who were staying at the park. Very friendly, talkative folk, the kiwis!

The evening ended bizarrely and awfully. Aubs and I were making our way back from the toilet block right before bed, when I noticed a man, dressed all in blue, appear from behind a fence just outside of the park. He had a gun, he raised it and he took aim, right into the middle of all the caravans. He fired. BOOM! BOOM! And he shot the loveable mutt with his air rifle. The mutt, whom we later found out to be called Romeo, howled and whined with pain, running around and around in circles trying to reach the source of the burning. Eventually he ran off, crying and whimpering with distress, no doubt towards home. He had been wearing a collar and a lead the whole time, had obviously escaped, but was much loved. As a dog lover, and a human, it was an awful thing to witness…not to mention dangerous and unsettling.

Romeo was known to many in the park. The upset and unease was palpable. No doubt the cops will be making a trip to see the shooter today. I hope they throw the book at him.

So, this one was not the best sleep in the world. I’m hoping this is the last we see of this sort of violence in New Zealand.

Well the title really says it all doesn’t it? 70 clicks by the end of the third day. It really is a brutal start.

We decided to push off early this morning. Try and get a few clicks under our belts before it began to heat up. First out of camp!! Gold stars to us!

And it was a good decision too. The sea had deposited a mysterious mist over the land. It was like walking into an infinite void, where one could be swallowed up whole and disappear forever.

The first 15km passed reasonably quickly, despite our various ailments. The last 15 though….pretty hellish. Is it crazy that something as beautiful as the ocean can get monotonous after a while? There came a point where I longed for a change in scenery, just to change the focus and interest.

I had a musing thought that whilst brutal, the designers of the trail might have done this on purpose….forced the walkers to face themselves and the challenge straight up. That they had set it up so there was nothing to do but let your thoughts drift like an endless current, pushing you further and further from the comforts of home.

Although it was tough, we laughed a lot, put on some tunes, and said the word ‘inlet’ countless times….without any other features we used them as distance markers. It felt an amazing achievement to make it to camp, after two very long days of hiking.

A nice hot shower, cool drink and dinner overlooking the sunset had me feeling right as rain again. Though definitely looking forward to a couple of shorter days and then some much deserved rest!

Broken gear count -1 (My little keyboard I usually use to type my blogs with…this is all coming directly from my phone, so no guarantees of future quality!)

Number of times tape has been used so far – 2 (Aubs tent and my feet)

Testing times for the brand new hikers. Testing indeed. Firstly a massive storm that ripped through camp at midnight, bringing with it crashing lightning and lashings and lashings of rain. Not really the start we were hoping for. Despite little sleep, two dry tents made for a successful start to the day….if not a bit of a late start. By the time we were packed up and ready the hordes had departed, leaving us alone to take a final look at the beach.

The days walk commenced in a civilised manner. Up over a little bush track, made even more pleasurable in the knowledge that once we hit the beach again, we hit it hard! They don’t call it 90 mile beach for nothing!!

So it was good times and a lot of laughs before…plop, plop, plop. Big, fat drops of rain. Slow and steady at first. Little by little getting harder and harder and harder. Until it was torrential. With not much else to do we splashed along in muddy puddles yelling defiantly to the gods of trouble .

I shouldn’t have done it, because before long we hit the beach. The long, long, long, long beach. In wet shoes and a dripping attitude. The gods of trouble continued with their rain wrath, the sand sticky wet, and clinging to everything it touched.

It wasn’t all bad. Beautiful coastline. The crawing of huge, fat gulls with black beaks. Shells and starfish littered the shore. Iridescent purple jellyfish swirling like space.

Although the rain eventually petered out, heavily running inlets kept shoes drenched. The wet sand in my socks began to rub both feet and mind.

It was lovely to have somebody to talk to. Steadfastly walk with, despite aching feet and tired legs.

We hobbled into camp late in the day, cheering excitedly at our achievement. On tender feet and legs, tents were slowly erected, and the unwinding was able to start. A freezing cold shower washed away the grime of the day and the last of the toils. Sitting in the sun, drinking a hot cocoa with my hair drying, watching Aubs come back from an exploration of the surrounding islands, I felt peaceful and happy.

Just need to do it all again tomorrow now! Another 30km day. The start of this trail is indeed, brutal.