Time to be a mountain goat
Days 65-68, Gable End junction to Raumati Beach
…And into the Tararua Ranges we go!
The infamous Tararua Mud — the rule, rather than the exception
DAY 65 - Gable End junction to Dracophyllum Hut (16km)
I set my alarm for 5.15am, anticipating a big day ahead with at least 1700m of climbing, or as I like to put it, fun. It was still dark as I rose, but there was just light enough to start the track. Straight from the turn off, it went straight up. These hills don’d muck around. I quickly decided not to use poles, as I needed my hands at all opportunities to grab onto the tussocks for dear life.
I set into the Tararua pace of moving at 2km per hour, about half the time I’d take on a normal-ish track. I encountered mud like I’ve never seen it—luckily my shoes stayed on my feet. The Tararua mud is notoriously difficult to wash off. It was misty but still as I got up to Richards Knob (I want to know the story behind all the names!) but was hopeful it would clear up for some views later on. I met Genevieve at the junction to Te Matawai hut. She and Mark had survived what sounds like an intrepid and sometimes sketchy river journey the previous night. They ended up getting to the hut at 9.30 which confirmed my decision not to join them!
We met Mark at Te Matawai and had a snack there. We could see the clouds lifting off the peaks as we left again for a steep climb up to Pukematawai, he second highest peak we’d climb on he TA section of the Tararua Ranges. The mud did not relent, even above the tree line. The track became marked with poles and cairns whic hwe could thankfully see clearly ahead of us. The hardy tussocks that grow up on the ridges are the plant equivalent of the archetypal can-do-attitude New Zealander who understates things all the time but gets the job done.
When you’re on a ridge this narrow, you have to watch every single step. I thoroughly enjoyed the steep climbs and took off like a mountain goat up to the signpost. I felt completely in my element along these hills. It became a hot and (almost) windless afternoon. The views at the top out to the Wairarapa were incredible — we couldn’t believe our luck with the weather up here, as good days here are few and far between.
At the top of Pukematawai, with one of the pole markers that share my rusty/orange aesthetic
The descent was sticky and slow-going, with pathches of mud to constantly navigate through. The hills are described as ‘bumps’ in the trail notes, which I thought was the most understated understatement in the whole notes. We eventually dipped below the bush line again, this time through the magical goblin forest the Tararua boasts.
An hour and a few moments of almost getting lost later, a small orange bivvy, dracophyllum Hut, appeared, which we’d call home for the night. I was soon joined by Mark, Genevieve and Craig, a TA section walker who commented on how small my Crocs were. Thanks, Craig. Mary then joined, and Hannah shortly after, who had both had completed a mammoth effort to get here. Now the question was how to squeeze 6 people in a 2-person bivvy... Craig ended up volunteering to sleep (read: pancake himself) under the bunk about 50cm in height. It was like the tramping version of those sleep pods they have in fancy backpackers. I couldn’t complain as I had a comfy bottom bunk with plenty of wiggle room.
Draco Bivvy, painted in a shade DOC calls ‘emergency orange’
DAY 66 - Dracophyllum Hut to Waitewaewae
I woke up thinking the bunk bed was alive: a pair of legs dangling from the top bunk while a pair of arms emerged from under the bunk. We somehow managed to organise our breakfast cooking arrangements without tipping anything over or setting the hut alight.
We had a fair bit of climbing ahead of us over the day, but nowhere near as much as the day before. I left around the same time as Mary, so it was lovely having her company for the first climb and someone to share a few of the wrong turns with. In and out of the goblin forest we dipped, observing the morning mist filtering out of the folds of the mountains as we undulated onwards. By the time we emerged above the bush line, the sky was clear and the panorama of deep green peaks surrounded us. Although we knew this could change at any moment, Mary and I found ourselves buzzing with excitement that we’d had two beautiful days in a row so far.
The next climb to Mt Crawford lay ahead of us, each pole marking the trail higher and higher. I reminded myself to keep watching each step as not to slip or twist in any unwelcome direction. I’d love to run up these hills, I thought, but my pack reminded me to pace myself and keep steady. In the distance, I made out a few figures on the summit. More TA walkers, most likely! Sure enough, as we got closer, we heard the group cheering us on to the top, the highest peak we’d climb to on this stretch of the Tararua section at 1462m.
On the top I met four new walkers: Max, Rob, Kaz, and Dean. I’d seen their names in previous hut intention books (the OG tracing apps), so it was good to put familiar names to new faces. They left to climb down shortly after, and Mary and I sat gaping at the view and soaking this moment in. We could see Ruapehu, Taranaki, Te Waipounamu, Wellington, and the Wairarapa in one panorama. This was the most of Aotearoa I’d seen at once. It took some time to believe that we could see both where we’d walked from and our next stretch.
Tararua Green
I ate an early lunch with the view’s company, sent a quick message to my family with the reception on the top, and then began the descent down to Waitewaewae Hut. The elevation difference between points is no joke, dropping 1300m over 5km distance. The bush line approached fast, and the lush, mossy, rooty staircases began. This was a real test for my quads more than anything, and my toes did so well to put up with all the pressure me and my bumbling pack placed on them. I had huge respect for people who had used poles for this section, but it made me wonder what they clung onto to stop them from slipping.
The Ōtaki river roared louder as I approached the hut. I emerged from the descent largely unscathed, apart from one token slip onto my back in the mud. It had to happen — if you didn’t slip, dd you really walk through the ranges? Most of the walkers were moving along to the next hut at Ōtaki Forks 5 hours away, but I was content having a restful afternoon by the river and taking care of my body to recover the climbs it had just endured. It was cathartic to wash my socks and gaiters in the river (and also my body) and felt amazing to lie and be still for a bit.
I wanted to stay at this hut as I have made memories here in the past, one of which involved meeting about 20 TA walkers a few years ago. To be honest, their slightly cliquey conversations about feet and peanut butter obsessions put me off doing the trail slightly, but here I was doing the exactly the same thing with my new trail friends in this exact same hut (albeit with fewer walkers, thanks COVID). It’s funny how things come full circle. This day was by far one of the highlights for me. I’ll never forget that view at the top, and just how lucky we struck it with the perfect weather window we stepped into.
Goblin forests
DAY 67 - Waitewaewae Hut to Schoolhouse Flats Campground (13km)
I tried to sleep in but my body’s natural alarm clock disrupted that plan. So 6am it was, awake and stirring my porridge over the old gas canister. The other walkers all left before me as a few were aiming to walk all the way to Waikanae, which from my perspective was a huge effort. Having walked the following section to Ōtaki Forks and knowing how many fallen trees lay across the technical trail, I did not want to rush the day.
I was only a few hundred metres into the walk when I got lost. Not badly, but enough to make me super vigilant for the orange markers for the rest of the day. I think most people take the shorter river route, meaning this section had been left to grow as it pleased and not be maintained. Back on track after a rocky start (GPS, you lifesaver!) I kept clambering along and began to recognise many of the landmarks along the track: the river crossing where I almost fell in last time, the massive tōtara tree by the junction, the part where I expressed to my friends a few years ago that maybe I didn’t want to do the TA after all. My quads were making themselves known quite strongly from yesterday’s gnarly descent, but they held up okay.
I caught up with Mark along the section known as The Plateau, a flat but boggy straight. The original track was closed a few years ago due to a slip, so you’d imagine the alternative route would be slightly tamer. However, this is Te Araroa and ‘tame’ is relative. Over the next few hours, we encountered many fallen trees, most of which seemed impassable at first. Every walker has clearly made their own route over/around/under the thick trunks, which made it hard to determine which route to take. There were a few sketchy, slippery moments of getting our packs caught in vines while sliding off branches into the mud, but we survived. It was the most relieving relief to get down to the junction. Walking along the flat, wide path after two days of only up and down felt like flying.
It was muggy as we got down to the grassy flats. Mark and I somehow managed to find Parawai Lodge despite the lack of signs or markers. It was a cool hut with white painted interiors and an old-school wood fire stove, but after lunch we decided to push on a few more kilometres to the Ōtaki Forks campground. The place is huge - they have flash new shelters and even a recycling system here! As soon as I had set up my tent, I went down to the blue rippling river and sat in the cool water to wash my clothes and my tired body. The sun shone down and I felt like I’d hit a refresh button on my cleanliness and energy. I spent the rest of the afternoon massaging my quads, reading and catching up on the sleep I didn’t get the night before (sleep quality in huts can be touch and go...)
Trying to look like I’m enjoying myself climbing over the 2748537th windfall of the day
DAY 68 - Ōtaki Forks to Raumati beach (35km)
I opened my tent flap to a glum cloud covering the Valley. To be fair, it was 5.15am and I couldn’t see much in the dark, but I could feel the imminent rain in the air. With my head torch on I packed up, ate porridge, then set off as dawn was cracking. For some reason I felt like starting early today to have enough time at the other end of the Pukeatua track to resupply and relax.
Though the track climbed steeply at first through dim forest, it was well marked and actually identifiable as a track (which felt like a novelty after some of the prior bush-bashing). I thought it would get brighter as the morning went on, but it stayed pretty dark and misty all the way to the summit at 812m. I enjoyed the atmosphere with the wind and mist swirling through the otherwise sheltered bush. There was not a single view from the top, so I just imagined what the landscape would look like.
The way down was pretty tame. I came out at an old forestry road which marked the boundary between the Tararua Forest Park and, well, not the forest park anymore. When I got down to the road end, I had a little break as I realised I’d powdered on through for 5 hours without one. It’s amazing how my body has slowly built endurance without me realising it. I made content with home to let my family know if made it out alive, and then trotted down the 11km of road to Waikanae. It all began to feel familiar.
As appealing as the squashed pre-spread peanut butter wrap at the bottom of my bag was, I decided to buy lunch instead. I found a café and as soon as I walked in, I heard: ‘Alex!’ It was Kale, my TA walker friend who I hadn’t seen since Waikato! He was with two walkers called Dalia and Charlie who I’d heard of but not yet met. It was lovely to catch up and eat a fresh bowl of vegetables with them. They’d decided to skip the Tararua Ranges because of the bad weather forecast, and come back to do them later. It made me realise how fortunate our timing was, that we could go straight through.
After our coincidental meet-up, I headed over to new world to resupply for the next few days - mainly to buy ingredients for a fruit crumble for when I arrived at my friend Sarah’s in Paekākāriki the next day. With my pack resembling a fruit bowl, I started along the Waikanae river track which followed on to the coast. The locals I met along the way were all so friendly, and many of them had beautiful dogs.
Blackberry has got to be the most delicious weed ever. I couldn’t believe how many ripe berries there were along the estuary route - why was nobody as excited as I was about them?! Stopping to pick and eat them probably added another 30 minutes to my day, but it was all worth it. It was low tide asking the beach which made for easy walking to Raumati Beach. My friend had generously allowed me to stay at her bach there, which I had to myself. After a week in the mountains, it was honestly like walking into paradise: a hot shower, washing machine, kitchen, and bed awaited my tired body. Thank you Cathy and whānau for your generosity!
In the eerie Pukeatua forest, the final stretch of the Tararua ranges before Waikanae
