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.
And just like that….we are on our way! After an uneventful evening (aside from the town’s air horns blasting at 12.30am), the loquacious Greg picked us up, as promised, at 10am sharp.
It was quickly determined that he had a mate who was living on Norfolk Island, and just like that, the rapport was established.
Arriving at Cape Reinga, cultural bohemoth of the north, was a sureal moment. Foggy mists scudded across the sky, obscuring much of the view of the surrounds. After a few happy snaps, both for Greg and for us, we donned our packs, smiled big, and took off. In the wrong direction. Yes, in a not so audacious start we found ourselves in another carpark. Had we kept going we would have ended up back in Kataia! It’s the fogs fault.
Back on track we inspected the lighthouse and thought about the beautiful Maori custom of the area. Then, the main game. The big event. The setting off on the trail. I was excited, nervous, worried and more than anything, happy. A 12 month plan in the making was finally coming to fruition. And it felt golden.
The day was absolutely fabulous. Glistening beaches, dazzling blue surf, islands, creek crossings, stark red earth and massive sand blowouts. It is a fantastic way to get the legs moving, the heart pumping and the eyes seeing.
It was a short day. A nice relaxing way to get back into it. I felt really good. At times it almost felt like my body could remember what it was supposed to do with a pack on. I am still in love with love distance hiking.
And the HOSC and I had a great time! It was so nice to discuss what I was seeing and feeling. It’s especially nice now we are in camp and there are so many people about. Ordinarily I would feel really out of place, but we have our small corner of the campsite and are about to cook up our dinner together. Perhaps watch the sunset. Life feels good.
Hopefully it will last! Tonight a pretty major storm is predicted. And more than that, we have a massive 30km to try and get through tomorrow. Little steps. Let’s just get through dinner and we’ll see how we go…
“Well this is it yorlye! I’m packed up and about to set off to finish this thing. I feel ready….
Also because a small branch/large stick fell onto my tent last night and busted a big hole through my fly. I don’t think the tape will be able to fix this!”
Message to my support crew
True story. Can you believe that!!?? On the final night a stick takes out my tent fly. “Why?” gear gods. “Why?”
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Sleeping bag on the first night. Tent on the last. And pretty much everything else absolutely pummelled in between. Yes, I shouldn’t have been surprised.
But I was. And the gaping hole flapping around in the wind all night did not make for the relaxing, last nights sleep I had been hoping for. So I was up earlier than I have been, and on my way.
It was a spectacular days walk. Absolutely a fitting ending to an epic journey. The colour of the water, the beautiful bays, soaring hills of the most vibrant green. I think I’ll let my photos do the talking.
As for me. I surprised myself. I wasn’t sad. And the reason, I soon realised, was an overarching, intense feeling of pride, that infused my body and mind and smothered all other emotions. A powerful, invincible feeling, that I hope doesn’t fade away too quickly when life’s normal trials and tribulations recommence.
The ending of the walk was super special. Cath and Greg had family and friends gathered to cheer them on, and they did the same for me when I walked in. It was a wonderful moment. Champagne was popped and poured and I was really able to soak up the feeling of having achieved something monumental.
I hugged both Cath and Greg fiercely. The first hugs I’ve given or received in almost 3 months. I told the two of them that regardless of anything else that happened on the trail, meeting them had been the luckiest, most fortuitous thing that could have happened to me out there. These people, who had been strangers, are now such a large part of the story of one of my greatest achievements. The saddest part of the day was saying goodbye to them.
I’m staying in Cape Jervis for the night. I had been thinking this might be a nice rounding off of the journey. A good old fashioned pub meal and some decompression time before heading to Adelaide. Not to be. We all know I’ve visited many a pub on this trip…this one definitely rates as the most dodgy. Even getting let into the general store to buy some dinner was difficult. It was locked. I needed to be let in specially by the barkeep. I looked around, hoping for a microwave meal or something semi-celebratory. The only dinner option…..packets of pasta and rice, exactly the same as those I have been eating for the last 2 months. I bought one. But it’s still sitting on the kitchen bench. Untouched. Twisties and Kit Kat it is!!!
I’m going to leave it here for tonight. Obviously I’ll have many more reflections in the next few days and weeks as I try to get home. I’ll write a little more once I’ve processed things a bit. But for now, thank you so much to all those people that have been following along with me every step of the way. And especially those that sent me encouraging messages of support. It really made a huge difference to my mental well being! Thanks yorlye! xxxx
This is hard. Hard to describe. This feeling of such happiness. And such profound loss. I’ve never felt this way before in my life. And I’m not sure how to process it.
Those are the thoughts in my head as I leave camp this morning. Just one more full day on the trail. One more night and it is done. I pack up carefully. Making sure everything is just so. It is an easy process. Done time and time and time again. I barely need to think. But it feels like a luxury to concentrate on the process, and so I do.
I have tears in my eyes as I leave. It’s a real struggle getting all the emotion under control. The walk is what brings me back. As it often does.
I love today’s walk. Short, but with some challenging hills around Deep Creek Gorge. I revel in the physicality of it. Charging up the mountains, often without a stop. Knowing that this would have been impossible a couple of months ago. I realise I’m as fit as I’ve ever been. Maybe even more so in some respects. It’s a lot to be grateful for.
There’s plenty of people out on the walking track. Families with young kids and no water heading down to the bottom. It never ceases to amaze me. And in my job, I’ve seen it more than I care to acknowledge.
Past the Trig campsite it is quieter, enabling me to get wrapped up in my thoughts a little bit. I’m thinking about returning to Adelaide. To the city. And more specifically, shedding my armour.
For two and a half months I’ve lived and breathed in this small assortment of clothes that I have. They’ve handled it all – from facing weather adversity to going out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. It is such a strange feeling, an unpleasant feeling, knowing that soon, I will put something else on. It feels a bit like a betrayal.
I think of my drawers and wardrobes of clothes at home and shake my head. It’s all so much simpler when the choices are limited. I’m dreading going to the shops and facing the crowds. But I’m going to have to. For one, I’m pretty sure these clothes stink, and I’m just not really aware of it…And two, I’ve lost a lot of weight. Maybe 10kg? I’m not sure. All I know is that my leggings are now more like tracksuit pants and my shorts must be cinched in and tied. So, I’ll do it. But I don’t want to.
I reach the campsite early and proceed with my final site set up. Again, I take my time and am fussy about everything I do and everywhere I put things. It gets windy, so I crawl inside and lie on my bed for a while. I will miss this simplicity.
My Clothes List
My Wonder Woman outfit consists of:
Blue walking shirt (Exofficio)
Shorts (Lorna Jane)
2 pairs of walking undies (Exofficio)
1 bra (Icebreaker)
Marino Leggings (200 – Icebreaker)
Marino Thermal Top (200 – Icebreaker)
1 pair of bamboo undies
Marino singlet (Icebreaker)
Pullover jumper with hood (Macpac – I love this item!)
2 pairs of walking socks (Balega)
1 pair of night socks (Injinji)
1 pair of town socks (Wright socks)
Bamboo singlet for town (Patagonia)
Cotton long sleeved shirt for town (Kmart)
Puffy Jacket (Montane)
Beanie (Patagonia – this is probably the only thing I would have swapped out for something smaller and lighter)
Waterproof rain pants (Columbia)
Rain / wind jacket (Patagonia – which I love and features in nearly all the photos of myself!)
And, of course, my amazing and highly identifiable, town skirt!
Another wonderful day of walking. It really packed a punch! Gorgeous, fine weather again with a slight, cool breeze. Perfect for walking. It’s really turning it on for the final few days!
The first part of the day was through sheep paddocks with distant ocean views. The water is a deep, dark blue hinting at substantial depth beneath the surface.
A steep, skinny descent ends at the beach where I found a fellow munching on Twisties. He tells me this is his first time doing something like this – but doesn’t indicate how far he is planning to go. He looks amazed when he realises I am almost at the end. It seems such a normal thing for me to be doing now, that it is easy to forget that it is actually rather extraordinary.
Th beach is picture perfect. Rolling waves azure in colour. Rocky formations in white and rust. The tide is just right, and the sand is hard and firm to walk on. The sun glistens off the water. It simply couldn’t look any nicer.
It’s too much for me. I decide I have to get in. There is no way that I can’t swim, having seen how perfect it is. And there is no one around. I strip off to my undies and clamber into the water, squealling with delight. It is icy cold and it takes my breath away. But as the salt seeps into my pores I realise this is the longest I have gone without a swim for 6 years. Again, I get a wonderful feeling of going home.
I get out and dry off on the beach. I feel refreshed, happy and ready for the rest of the day. The sand eventually hits the rocks and the track climbs up and over a long headland. There are some decent up and downs through this section, so I take my time and rest in the shade where I can. I am watching a couple of surfers having the time of their lives (I can hear them cheering from right up on the clifftop) when I see a pod of dolphins – ten or so – cruising through the water. So effortless and graceful. It’s a treat.
The final section of the day occurs on a bush track through the Deep Creek Conservation Reserve. Again, wildflowers are abundant. It’s hot here. Not a breath of wind. And I am glad to reach camp a short time later.
I wander around looking for campsite 12. I pass Cath and Greg, and also Mel who was at the campsite last night. Mel has been section hiking, and this is her second to last section. She has been completing the trail slowly over a period of 4 years. That’s also such a massive commitment to achieving something! She will arrive in Cape Jervis the same day as the rest of us.
I find my site and set up. Still no reception – not enough for a conversation anyway. So I’ve decided to try not to think about the end today. Just enjoy the day for what it was. A perfect walking day.
P.S. I do get to talk to the head of my support crew. So that is an extra special treat that tops a wonderful day off nicely.