A peaceful night was not forthcoming. Electrical storms. And a whole series of them. The tent feeling alive with the cackle of the lightning. Not fun.
So it is on a modicum of sleep that I pack up, feeling exhausted already, for my 35km day.
The great news is that it has stopped raining. And I’m really enjoying the walk. With the river, the views have opened up a little, and I look forward to my glimpses of the slow moving water. I seem to do better when I can see further.
I hear a foul grunting in the bush, and turn, instantly thinking “emu”! Instead, a burly koala stalks straight up a tree, defying his own weight and physique.
I’m very consciously splitting the day into 5km lots. Taking my shoes off, and in most spots able to bathe my feet in the water. I’m walking slowly and feeling good. I sit down at one of these break spots and pull a coveted chocolate and almond protein bar from my bag. I bend over to take off my shoes. Sit back up. My bar is gone! I look around in disbelief. Stare accusingly at the fairy wrens flitting about. What the hell?!
I delve into the backup supplies and head to the jetty. On packing up, I see the culprit. A currawong, lurking about on the jetty sucking up all my crumbs. He looks at me and gives me a smirk. Arsehole.
With all these breaks and slow walking I realise I’ve misjudged my timing a little. It’s already getting close to 5pm, and I still have 5km or so to walk. Only one thing to do. Pull out my headphones. It’s the first I’ve used them on the trip. And oh man do they do what I need them to do. I fang it. But there’s so many fallen trees. I’m pushing through, fighting, getting prickly acacia thorns stuck in my hands and scratches up my arms and legs. And it starts raining. Hard.
I fang it. But I still reach camp after dark. It’s ok though. With nobody else there, I set up the tent under the shelter, so I can get everything ready and changed into warm clothes under cover. I’m tired, but happy with how I’m feeling. Town tomorrow. And all the good things that come with it.
Of course it rained last night! Not to mention the hikers that rocked up at 9.00pm (after I had gone to bed!) who decided to pitch their tent right between Aubs and I, despite a large, green paddock. Or, the street light that blared all night long that was right above my tent…
BUT! To hell with all that! Because we made it! Goal achieved! We made it to Auckland!
With not far to go, we decided to splurge on a delicious breakfast at a bustling cafe right next to the caravan park. Meal consumed, it was on with the pack one last time and we were on our way.
Despite being so close to Auckland, it was a really pleasant oceanside walk. Water lapping the outskirts of the beach at high tide. No matter the cause, we can’t seem to keep our feet dry!
Up and around a headland hosting a range of military relics and we can see it! The Devonport ferry terminal…and the end of our walk.
It hasn’t been an easy walk by any means. In fact, it’s been rather tough. There have been a range of factors making this so…of course the weather. A bit of rain is one thing, but unrelenting torrential storms closing tracks, flooding rivers and wreaking havoc has been hard. The rain leads to mud. And the mud at times has been awful. Awful and dangerous. What’s more, the difficulty of the mud has meant that some of the intended highlights of the North have been anything but…
And the highlights are important, because much of the original forested areas of the Te Araroa are now closed off due to Kauri dieback disease. Long stretches of walking, often on extremely busy, narrow tar to connect wild areas is the replacement. Not a great deal of fun. When you get there you want to enjoy the good stuff! Not worry about your imminent death by mud slide or a potential broken leg and helicopter rescue.
Lots of people too. A positive and a negative. We’ve met some really good ones. And some really bad. We’ve jostled for spots in the limited campgrounds and been the only walkers around for miles. The walkers ebb and flow. Friendships are forged quickly and can be over before they even have a chance to really begin.
That being said, once again, it’s the people that make it. The laughs and kindness. Generosity and caring. Provision of help when needed. It’s impossible to do this on your own.
And we saw some amazing things!! New Zealand is beautiful. And although we didn’t see it at its best, we are keen to come back and experience more!
And what was walking with somebody like? Different to what I expected. I thought I would really struggle with needing heaps of time on my own. But I didn’t. And there were plenty of times where having a partner proved incredibly beneficial. Whether it be as boredom relief on a long beach walk, providing moral support in dangerous situations, judging the best mansions, hoisting packs above the head on river crossings, talking, having a laugh, being a team. Experiencing a walk with Aubs was fantastic.
So the plan is we’ll be back next year to tackle some more. Discover more of New Zealand. Put ourselves to the test again. But before then, we’ll need to buy a heap of new gear…again!
It was a day of mixed fortunes. Luckily for us, mostly in a positive way!
The rest at Orewa was just what the doctor ordered. Big breakfasts, beach walks without the burden of a heavy pack, long lunch complete with vino for me, icecream, snooze. And we were able to catch up with Pete, Nas and Daphne for a very enjoyable catch-up drink. When it’s getting you down, take a rest. That’s the motto of the story.
And so we left this morning in much higher spirits than when we arrived. A lovely walkway along an estuary before more of the dreaded road walking. A large verge along with our improved attitude meant it was a cinch.
We arrived at the turnoff to Stillwater, our intended destination for the evening, by mid morning. 7km to go. Sitting down to take a break, I made a quick scan of the hikers comments. “Avoid this road walk at ALL costs!” was the general gist. No point risking it. I stuck my thumb out and was rewarded one minute later, when the friendly Gareth pulled over in his brand new car, offering us a ride all the way to the caravan park. Sweet as!
Having arrived at the park by midday, we were planning a long afternoon spent rambling through the town and marina. That is, until I looked at the map and realised I had accidentally booked our accommodation in Auckland a whole day early!! There was no way we could make it in just one day….
A quick decision was made. We’d just keep walking. Get as far as we could….perhaps Browns Bay, and then get a taxi to where we were supposed to have been, the night before reaching Auckland. Slightly rattled, we set off again.
And this is where the magic happened! You see, part of this next section involves crossing a deep estuary. The only way it can be done, with any safety, is to cross right on the dot of low tide. That, or suffer delays and more road walking. As it was, had we stayed overnight, this is exactly what would have happened. In a stroke of great fortune however, this afternoon we got there bang on time!
And what a walk it was! A massive blue estuary, shrunk with the tide. Towering cliffs lining the banks. Rivulets of water pouring off them as a result of all the rain. And we nailed the crossing. Aubs went in first, sans pack to test the depth and current. Although chest height, we deemed it safe enough. Gear was stowed tightly. We crossed to the point it got deep before the HOSC swung his bag over his head and carefully made his way across. Once safe, he came back for mine. We both felt victorious to have achieved the crossing successfully. Like we had learnt from our mistakes and were ready for moving to the next section. It was a great feeling.
We made our way all the way to Browns Beach, at once admiring and despising the slew of expensive property along the coast. At Browns Bay, we ordered an Uber and 15 minutes later we were in Tapakuna. Easy as that! And we only missed 10km of walking. I can live with that.
One night to go. We have both decided to enjoy our last night in our tents, cooking on our gas stoves, before the adventure ends. I’m guessing it’ll probably rain!
Nothing for it but to jump back on the cart right?
I slept fairly fitfully last night. It was a strange feeling lying in the half packed up cafe, sugar pots under the bench and menus still taped to the fridges. No curtains on the large glass doors, and adjacent to the night time trucks blaring their way along Highway One. Still, it felt like the most comfortable place on earth when the winds started raging, lightning crashed and rain ferociously lashed. Another outrageous storm.
The mood was slow and quiet in the morning as we contemplated what to do. Still raining, but supposed to dry up during the day. Possibly even some sunshine! We talk about taxis and other options, but in the end, we came here to walk, so that’s what we did.
It’s a long, but reasonably interesting day of walking. An uphill road walk to start. A patch of muddy bushland. Another road walk along a quiet, gravel road. This time with views over the valley. An “easy 1km tramping trail” which devolved into a 1 hour mud soaked slip and slide. Further road walking. A 1km section through a patch of lovely bushland full of tree ferns and palms. Paddock walking between spiky gorse bush and an electric fence. Luckily the fence was off!
Finally we reached the intersection with the Puhoi river track, a section I had been looking forward to in completing the day. A fresh sign on a wooden barrier tells us the area is currently closed due to logging. We are left to road walk the remaining four kilometres into town.
It’s a disappointing way to end the day. Though the disappointment could have been avoided if I’d read the track notes properly. Note to self, I’ll have to improve in keeping up with the alerts and closures next time…
To add to the disappointment, a phone call at lunch time had alerted us to the fact that we were no longer able to stay at our booked accommodation at the beautiful, old Puhoi Hotel. The town had been without power all day and they had decided to close. They had no suggestions for an alternative place to stay.
So it was, that by the time we arrived tired and worn out in Puhoi, we had made the decision to take a taxi to Orewa, book ourselves a couple of nights accommodation and take a break. This would mean skipping a 17km section of the trail, much of which was road walking along state highway one. I’m ok with that.
In a rare lucky boon, our mates Pete and Nas were waiting for us at the fish and chip shop in Puhoi when we arrived. Pete was being picked up by his wife Liz and offered us all a ride to Orewa. Perfect!!! Now we just need a place to stay. It’s a big city…this should be easy right?! Wrong!! We rang and rang and rang. Must have tried 15 different motels and caravan parks to discover they were all booked out for the night. The backpackers “Pillows” rated 4.5 / 10 was the only place with a bed. Desperate, we stayed the night.
This place deserves its rating. My room is…ok. Aubs room is the “worst he has ever stayed in”. We’ve got an alternative place for tonight. Hopefully it won’t have old blokes standing around drinking at 10am and rat shit in the shower.
So this afternoon we’ll be resting in our lush accommodation and planning the last of our trip. Just two more days of walking and we’ll be in Auckland. That’s the plan anyway!
I’m not sure there is adequate words to describe how awful today’s walk was. Plain, old awful will do, I suppose. It really was.
Today’s walk was supposed to be one of the highlights of the North Island. Up and over a couple of mountain ranges, with pristine green bush and outstanding views.
Not to be. As you know, it’s been raining in torrents for a while now. More has been predicted, including a possible thunderstorm later in the day. Absolutely not ideal. On top of that, reports from those in the know speaking of mountains and mountains of mud. Rain and hundreds of trampling hikers do not mix well.
What to do? What to do? We are in an isolated location, with little options for moving forward. A plan is hatched. We will depart at 5.30am, hopefully making it over the mountains before the storm hits. It’s a sleepless night.
The dawn breaks, ethereal and misty. We have already squelched our shoes into the cold, muddy waters by the time the first birds decide to sing. It’s going to be a hell of a long day.
The landscape is beautiful, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not looking. All I’m looking at, all I’m thinking about, is making it up and down these quagmires without breaking a leg. Concentration is required every, single step of the way. My fall count skyrockets from 0 to 6. More than Aubs today, though he took his fair share as well. It was ludicrous, dangerous and not fun.
With 6km remaining we decided to get off the track and walk a gravel road being utilised as part of a logging operation. Luckily, they let us proceed through. Unluckily, the clouds burst, the thunder thrumbed, and we were instantly saturated, adding insult to injury. Nothing like wearing sopping wet, clay soaked rain gear.
A saviour arrives. A bloke who had driven into the area on a whim, looking for a spot he and his brothers used to go hunting. Despite our appearance, he was all too happy to plonk us in his car, drips and all. He was a lovely fellow. Enthusiastic about the trail, and Norfolk, one couldn’t help but be perked up by his attitude.
He dropped us right to our campsite for the night. A closed down cafe. But in another embodiment of kindness, the owners allow hikers to camp inside…especially during thunderstorms. We are invited to have a hot shower in the caretakers own house. Spread out beds and dry off in the warmth. It’s like a miracle.
We’ve met another young Belgium hiker here, Daphne. The three of us have had dinner together, staring out at the pouring, thundering rain and comparing notes on how awful the day was. Bed beckons. I’ll be curled up before long, so very grateful to be undercover.
A touch of most welcome kindness today. We had met up with our old mate, Peter, again a couple of days ago. Yesterday was his birthday, and his wife had travelled to town to spend the evening with him. Today, Pete was being dropped off directly at the beach, saving himself 7km of road walking through town. We were asked if we would like a ride. Hell yes!!!
Help was offered and gratefully accepted! It was such an unexpected relief to know that a 20km beach walk was all that stood between me and a pre-booked cabin. Finally, a shorter, easier day!!
So, with that it was a 20km cruise down a windswept beach. Shoes off and on through three separate, low water level inlets. Dodging variable oystercatchers and spotted dotterals as they fiercely guarded their tiny chicks. No rain. Despite ominous grey clouds.
Thanks to Pete’s generosity, we arrived in camp by 1pm providing opportunity for a catch up nap and blog time. It is definitely harder keeping up with the blog as a duo! All that “spare” time I had as I prepared and ate my dinner is no longer there. Which is very nice.
Some time will also be spent planning. We are at the end game now for this trip. Less than 100km to reach Auckland. We will definitely make our goal!! But first, the promise of a very punishing day tomorrow. May I sleep well in my little cabin tonight! Fingers crossed for this one.
Definitely a four seasons in one day type of day. Both the walk and the weather!
The trail initially wound up a mountain, sun shining intensely. Fantastic views were visible to the North and we were able to look back on mountains and beaches already trodden.
The sky began to darken. We veered from a gravel road onto a bush track. Steep and slippery ascents and descents on a small, muddy path. Aubs fall tally advanced to four. Mine remains at zero. Though I must admit it is probably due more to luck than superior technique!
Light scuds of rain continue to fall as we move from a bush track to a grassy paddock. I can’t help but revel in it and reminisce about the Heysen. Sadly, road walks have replaced fence lines on the northern part of the Te Araroa.
We reach the highlight of the day. The Mangawhai Clifftop Walk. A stunning 5km track that will lead us all the way into town. Waves pound on the rocks far below us. We spot a huge stingray lurking in the pools close to shore. Following a strenuous, hilly, slippery day it is a delight to walk this flat, well formed track. The rain starts to bucket down.
At the campsite, we are lucky enough to get a small break in the weather enabling us to erect our tents. Once showered and dressed in warm clothes, a decision is made to go into town to get some supplies and have dinner at a local pizzeria. We are told that for fit looking people like ourselves it’ll only be a 5 minute walk. We call the taxi. Ominous rain clouds are looming. No answer. We decide to make a dash for it. Mistake!
No sooner had we got going when BOOM!! A massive crash of angry thunder. And those thick, heavy grey clouds let loose. Despite raincoats, we copped a soaking. 5 minutes my arse! Even if we are fairly fit!!
The evening made up for it however as we relaxed into the pleasant surrounds of the Bistro. Rain pelting the outside whilst I sipped a couple of glasses of red and enjoyed a spicy pepperoni pizza on the inside. All whilst listening to the unbelievable antics of a fellow hiker, spruiking to all and sundry, who kept us entertained if not amused! A thoroughly enjoyable day, despite the weather!
Further gear losses…Aubs – phones x 1.5, thermal longs ripped, undies worn through. Me – deflating pillow
Boy oh boy it was hard to get out of my bed this morning. After a lovely rest day, filled with long breakfasts, snoozes, washing and drying, and Indian dinners, it was time to stuff everything in the pack once again.
I felt rested. But this trail has been hard. Long distances between camps; more people to circumnavigate; hideously drenching downpours at the drop of a hat: mud, mud and more mud; sopping campsites. I’m still enjoying it. But it has certainly been a mission.
We bid farewell to the bach and headed across the road. Peter is destined to pick us up at 9am to ferry us across the bay to Marsden Port. We are staring out to sea, waiting for him, when we hear the putt putt putt of a motor. An old tractor is dragging a boat towards the water.
Peter and his wife explain that taking hikers across the bay is a hobby for them. They are headed out fishing after they drop us off. We enjoy the boat ride, finding out more about the foreboding looking Port on the other side as we go.
Once on the other side , we make haste. It’s almost 10am and we have another 32km to cover. We immediately take a wrong turn. Backtrack and start again. Wasted time.
We get back on track and it’s a good thing as the beach itself is beautiful. Aqualine water with a shell studded shore. We can see the dragon we conquered in the background. It feels pristine and beautiful. An expanse of beach well worth visiting.
We reach a tidal river at Ruakaka and face a physical challenge. The water flooding down to the sea is completely brown. A result of the heavy rains. There is no way of gauging the depth of the many rivulets we will need to cross to get to the other side. We probably should have taken a bit more time….but we didn’t. We walked around for a bit, picked a likely spot, and in we plunged. The water felt nice at first. Until it got higher and higher and higher. I could feel it lapping at my bag. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” We dragged ourselves out the other side. Poor Aubs realised the water had cascaded into the pouch holding his new phone (and his old one!). He turned his bag up and poured water out of his pouches. His phones were drenched. He was impressively stoic about it. I vowed not to look in my bags until we reached camp. It was quite a painful lesson.
We continued down the beach. Easy walking. Just a long way. Rain poured as we passed through Waipu, and again and again as we made our way to Waipu Cove. A large section of the track was roadside, and Saturday afternoon proved to be a very popular time for a drive. We were very glad to make it to camp.
Dinner was had overlooking the beach. A beautiful hot shower followed by a stroll through the caravan park finished off the evening. Bed by 8pm. The patter of rain started immediately, lulling me into a satisfied doze. They are all long days now until we get to Auckland.
The first order of business was to say goodbye to new found friends. We are having a rest day tomorrow, so it is possible we won’t see any of them again. It’s a strange sensation…how quickly you become attached to these people. A product of shared experience. How quickly we all say goodbye.
In the past week or so we have met and become friends with Peter, an older Kiwi with a wicked sense of humour and in depth knowledge of the environment; Nas, an older French woman walking the trail solo with a bubbly personality and decidedly sarcastic streak; Steve, an older Kiwi wanderer who has been walking the trail in sections, today he will complete it; and the young guns, Reed (Kiwi), Rob (Netherlands) and Alistair (UK) who met the first day of the trail and have been together ever since. We have been crossing paths with them on and off for almost two weeks. They are young and quick, and leave us in their wake as they speed past us and up the mountain.
For that is what we are doing today. Heading up a mountain. Walking the Te Whara track is like following the path of a great, sleeping dragon. All ridges and spines. Up one spike, carefully down the other side, and up again once more.
It is a breathtaking place. It’s steep slopes and dense vegetation act as natural barriers to invasive predators. Many threatened NZ species have been introduced here, where they thrive in the pristine scrub.
We jagged a near perfect day. It was overcast and incredibly misty along the spine, stifling what would have been amazing views. However, it didn’t rain until we reached the bottom, which we were extremely grateful for.
5 hours to walk 8km. It was rather demanding!! There was a definite sense of relief at reaching the bottom and witnessing the beautiful calm waters of Urquhart Bay.
We managed another 3km before the sky opened up and torrential rain began to fall. Raincoats are not very effective in this sort of deluge, but we put them on anyway. Another 3km around the bay before we reach our destination, “Thistledo”, a little bach where we dry off, replenish sleep and food, and, plan for the final push into Auckland.
A lovely meal is consumed at the local restaurant. A twilight walk back to our accommodation. And a very well earned, magnificent sleep. Got to love the rest days.
I’m having a bit of trouble getting started with today’s blog. Its a tricky one. It was a difficult day. Taxing in the body and on the mind. We had a disagreement. Our first since we started the trail. It’s all sorted now. But it sure did make a long day, infinately longer. Definitely harder. Anyway, I’ll just get into it I suppose…
The day started early. Very, very early. I was woken, in the dark by my buzzing alarm at 4.30am. Groan. We have been thoroughly and expertly briefed by James. If we want to complete two river crossings today, we MUST be at the second crossing, 13km away, by 9.30am. Time to get up.
We reach the first crossing right on time at 7.30am. Waist high at points, but nothing unmanageable. We have been advised by James that it is “pretty muddy” at the other end. Best to keep the shoes off. Understatement. It’s foul at the other end. Thick, squelchy, stinking, black, gooey mud. Not just a little bit of it. Several hundred metres of foul. I enjoy it immensely. “People pay good money to do this” is the joke going around. It’s made bearable because James has advised us that there is a large pool of rainwater at the far end where we can wash our feet off before moving on. Again, his advice is reliable. We gratefully wash off the goop and move on.
This time a quiet road walk to the small town of Pataua Beach. We cross a foot bridge and make our way through town. Arrive at the second crossing just before 9.30am. We’ve made it!
The second crossing is much, much longer and much, much deeper. Several kilometers. At times shallow sandbank, and at times, waist deep. We get about half way across when it happens. The argument. We break apart and walk separately to the end of the crossing.
My mind is swirling, yet I’m still trying to enjoy the experience. Fairly unsuccessfully. Especially when I reach the far end and find more of the deep, squelching, putrid smelling mud. With nowhere to wash at the end….
All the hikers languish in the grass taking a rest. We’ve all marched here without a break in order to beat the tide. Folks are trying to remove the mud as best they can using grass, a bit of drinking water, whatever is at their disposal. I wipe my feet off with a wet towel, yet my legs remain covered in black, foul smelling stockings.
The HOSC and I exchange a few words, but it is still tense. I enact our pre-arranged plan for this scenario. I take off, and walk alone. We will walk separately until we can resolve things.
I’m the first to leave. I take off at a clipping pace, keen to leave the group, my feelings, thoughts and everything behind. All I can think of is the ocean. The sweet, salt water. Cleansing all this stenching mud off me. Washing away the tension. Starting afresh. I fang it.
Which is really hard to do, because it is straight uphill. The longest uphill of the walk yet. But I do it. Barely stopping. The views are amazing, though I am barely taking them in. I reach the top and immediately make my way down a set of stairs though a nice patch of bush. Just a couple of kilometres to go. I am powering.
I reach the ocean. Immediately I shed my pack and clothes and plunge into the water, scrubbing at my legs and hair and thoughts. It’s cool and fresh and mine. I feel my temper dissipating. I catch waves, the enjoyment rising. Salt on my skin.
Other hikers begin to arrive. Some swim, some don’t. I sit on a log to dry out and wait for Aubs. He arrives. Sits for a minute. We tentatively start walking together again. Another 8km down the beach. Sand, thick and heavy just after high tide. Massive bluff, a beacon, along with the knowledge it will have to be climbed tomorrow. It is difficult, but we make it.
It’s been a long, tiring, emotional day. We talk it out as best we can before turning in for the night. The whole camp is silent by 7.30pm. Tomorrow is another day.