Ka kite, Te Tai Tokerau

Days 19-24, Ocean Beach to Dome Valley

Another week of walking complete and it’s certainly heating up! I’m finding great joy in just passing by so many moments of life at the end of 2020 in Aotearoa. Moments on the trail can be fleeting, but that’s what makes them great. I love the short conversations with local folk, when a bird you’ve been observing flies off, and watching a landmark inch further away behind me walking southwards.

At the same time, I’m trying not to rush through this. It can be hard to convince myself of the fact this is not a race when it seems other people are walking the trail faster, or I feel I have to get to a certain place by a certain time. I’m learning to drop all of that and live through each of my own steps. Each of the many, many steps on this adventure.

DAY 19 - Ocean Beach to Ruakaka (24km)

Dad and I left extra early to allow us time to make the afternoon boat over to Marsden Point. As it rained the night before, our feet got instantly sodden as we trudged through the long grass and mine didn’t dry until the end of the day.

It was a beautiful morning for a mammoth hill climb. We accidentally took a direct route (aka rock climbing up a cliff) but were relieved when our little detour soon joined main path. This track is called Te Whara, named after the wife of Manaia, a rangatira who journeyed this route 700 years earlier. The area (Bream Head) is considered a mainland island because it’s heavily protected and is host to diverse indigenous wildlife, including the North Island robin.

Bursts of stairs took us up through old military bunkers and unique rock formations, a mix of histories. At the peak we climbed a precarious boulder to be surrounded by the most exhilarating panorama of Whangārei Heads and beyond. We met a group of friends up there who had just come the other way. They clearly weren’t TA walkers because they smelt like cologne.

The track gently undulated for a while, and before long we caught up with Marianne who had stayed at the holiday park the night before. I pranced down the millions of steps, eager for lunch at the bottom. Dad said I moved like a “restrained trail runner”. I do miss running! We had lunch on the beach under a. dangling pohutukawa, the most New Zealand summer scene ever (ft. my dirty socks drying on the tree branch).

Back to road walking for a bit. We passed the striking Mt Manaia until we reached Reotahi opposite the ugly yet endearing oil refinery. A guy called Blair who runs boat rides across the harbour mouth picked us up and zoomed us over to the other side. In the process we got refreshingly drenched by sea waves. Off the boat, we walked along the beach skirting the oil refinery. Kale, Marianne and I walked along the pipeline track while dad took the beach. We agreed to meet at the Ruakaka supermarket. Dad has a knack for finding places in small towns, he told me, so he didn’t need a map or charged phone to find it.

The Ruakaka Fresh Choice supermarket was a little resupply paradise. We unashamedly took up all the space out in the foyer splaying our packs and sticks everywhere, and Dad soon reunited with us. Dad and I decided to walk the rest of the 4km to the holiday park, but I was so exhausted by the end of the day that I could hardly talk with any expression in my voice. After chick pea soup and a phone call with my friend Maike, I felt much more energised.

Where we came from (Kauri Mountain in the distance)

DAY 20 - Ruakaka Beach to Waipu Cove (17km)

After a tiring day yesterday, Dad and I took it easy. We meandered along the beach (Kale shouted to us from 100m behind that “we’ve walked 400km!!!”) before heading into Waipu, where I dad and I had our final morning tea together at a cafe (one of the only places in the town not named in reference to something Scottish). We got our annual tartan fix and headed to the bus stop, where I saw Dad off back to Auckland. I was all on my own now, and that felt a bit weird. Time to get the podcasts out!

I continued on the road out of Waipu along an incomplete walking path and eventually turned up at the Waipu cove holiday park where they had free tomatoes, picked from their community garden, sitting on their reception desk. I sat in the TV room all afternoon (non-tent roofs are a novelty) reading a terrible crime fiction novel I found on the shelf, made dinner, and popped into my two-person apartment of a tent, my home while my tent pole gets fixed in Auckland.

DAY 21 - Waipu cove to Mangawhai village (25km)

You guessed it - road walking for the first 7km! The forestry road went up and over the hill to Langsview track. I soon headed into farmland, down and then up a steep grassy unformed track which was a physical version of those ‘choose-your-own-path’ stories and an ‘I spy’ all in one. The trail builders sometimes like to pop a small orange triangle somewhere in the distance and make you find it.

It was then lunch time, the best time of day. Being well beyond the point of caring what other people thought, I whipped my socks and shoes off at the trail head of Mangawhai cliffs walkway and spread myself out and made my usual wrap extravaganza: peanut butter and tomato paste on spinach wraps with a few cashews nuts sprinkled in for good measure and texture. A few people passed and noted my big pack.

The cliffs walkway, a popular day track, was gorgeous with droopy pohutukawa and steep drop-offs. A DOC worker ran after me as I got back into the beach and asked if it could do a survey about the walkway. Of course I said yes! Who doesn’t love doing a good old survey on the beach. The beach was busy and for the first time I felt so out of place bumbling along with my pack while people raced each other into the sea, full of the pre-Christmas buzz that seems to be floating around.

Mangawhai Heads is a sweet town with a lot going on: sushi, fish and chips, a stationery shop, a four square, a milk bar, an op shop. I devoured a punnet of strawberries and continued south to my rest stop destination, past a horrendously huge housing development built on an estuary I finally got to Alan and Lisa’s house, where I’d take a rest day. They welcomed me in and I set up my tent.

DAY 22 - rest day in Mangawhai

My third rest day consisted of sleeping in until 8am, visiting the Bennett’s chocolatier place (Wellington chocolate factory still wins, hands down), and a spot of op shopping. Coolectables has great books about Kauri trees - if only I had room in my pack!

Alan and Lisa invited me to a gig in the community hall that afternoon, literally right next door to theirs. Albi and the Wolves were playing. I got quite emotional hearing live music for the first time in a while. I really enjoyed feeling part of the Mangawhai community for just a few hours. The 100-strong audience in this small hall, licking ice creams while gently swaying their heads to the music. Everyone knew everyone.

In the evening, to my surprise, Gabriela arrived at Alan and Lisa’s too. It was so good to see her again and catch up on the last 10 days. The trail is funny like that - we don’t know when we’ll see each other next, but it always works out somehow. We stayed up till a grand old time of 10pm and then headed bedwards.

A rare selfie at the Northland/Auckland boundary ft. high vis

DAY 23 - Mangawhai to Tamahunga summit (28km)

There’s nothing like a bit of road walking to start the day. This stretch marked a significant milestone as it crossed the Northland/Auckland border. My pack was super heavy as I packed all my resupplies and had packed wAaY too many oats for porridge. I don’t think I’ll be physically able get through 1kg of oats in 4 days, but I’m up for the challenge.

The track suddenly went off the be eaten track and through a private golf course in a pine forest and I was transported out of this country for a kilometre and into some American billionaire’s one. It was very strange. Luckily, Te Arai beach came quickly to save me from the golf course. It is home to a wonderfully diverse birdlife including NZ’s rarest bird: the tara iti, or fairy tern. I was lucky enough to see a few of them, as well as little fawn dotterels which are now my new favourite native bird. Maybe the billionaire could have spent their money on saving these birds’ habitats instead. Just a thought.

The birds kept me entertained for a while before I headed over the headland to embark on 12 more km of beach bumbling. This stretch was tough. No shade, no water sources, no clouds. Just the perfect window of opportunity to listen to podcasts and get sizzled by the sun, both of which I did.

I finally made it to the beach end and crossed over to the Pariki holiday park. Tempted to stop there for the night, it had just passed midday and I wanted to go a bit further. I also knew there was a steep climb ahead, that there were a few possible camping spots in the bush, and that I was really low on water. Weirdly (or maybe masochistically) I wanted to feel the uncertainty of not knowing where I’d sleep or drink next, so I continued onwards.

The climb up to the Tamahunga track did not mess about. Imagine a hill 400m high, then imagine a track going straight up to the top through exposed, overgrown farmland. I have never appreciated shade more than I did when I got to an old pine tree near the top. The views were more than worth the climb, as they always have been throughout Northland. I enjoyed eating my muesli bar in the breeze and texting dad to substitute for him not being with me on the trail. I also have to keep reminding myself that there is no rush or race to get anywhere on this trail as I often find myself rushing along for no good reason.

The track went up, down, up, and then more up into the Omaha ecological reserve. At the top, I found a sneaky place to pitch my tent (which previous walkers clearly had the same idea about). I was running out of water and wanted to save my energy for the next day. This was the precarity I was looking for. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was what I needed as part of being okay with that discomfort.

That night I felt lonely. When I get lonely I think about all the great people in my life and this helps to ease the loneliness. I thought of my family and friends who are finishing up the working year, my sister in Germany who’s about to sit her exams, and my dad who’s now back in Wellington, and I found comfort in that. I often find myself sitting on that line between solitude and loneliness, and though I’m mostly content in my own company, I’m missing people right now and wondering what I’m doing in the middle of the bush overlooking Omaha and all the fancy yachts.

The wild pigs must have sensed my loneliness and so they joined me for the night, scuffling and squealing around my tent for pretty much Beth whole night. It sounded like they were having fun out there, but I didn’t dare poke my head out to join in the fun.

DAY 25 - Tamahunga summit to Dome Valley (18km)

I woke up pleasantly surprised to find that the pigs hadn’t stolen my drink bottle which I’d left outside. The sunrise struck just as I was getting up at my new wake up time of 5:45am. I have developed a mechanic morning routine: pack my pack, dismantle tent, make breakfast, do the ‘dishes’ (read: rub my fingers around the pot with a drip of water) and be on my merry way. The upside of not having any water left is that my pack was significantly lighter as I left down the track.

One hour into setting off, I found a glorified puddle to refill my bottles in. It would do for now. I soon got to the trailhead of the track into Dome Valley. I was relieved to find ample shade and picked up good momentum along this section. I’m developing a slight tendency to ralk (run-walk) along sections, but I should probably pace myself a little more if I want to complete the upcoming 2510km of the trail in one piece.

The track bumped up and down in usual fashion. There were some steep no-nonsense climbs in this section. After a strenuous few km, I finally made to the viewpoint on Dome Hill. From here, in the faintest of distances, I could make out the Auckland Sky Tower and Rangitoto. The bustling metropolis is in sight!

At this point I feel a bit like a sticky cloth. A concoction of sunscreen and dust permanently caked onto my skin, sand in every pocket, my socks have a no-going-back-to-white brown tinge, and I feel overjoyed when there’s a flushing toilet where I’m staying as I write this. At this stage I’m being propelled forward by two main things:

Fantasies of huge porridge servings during this stretch with dollops of peanut butter (anything to make my pack lighter)
Seeing Grandma and my Aunt Chris at the end of the week! Grandma plans to join me on the boat ride across the harbour, which I’m excited for.

Scroggin-wise, I must admit I’ve been a little slack on this stretch. I’ve been going for a minimalist scroggin of almonds and dates because the resupply opportunities have not been optimal for mixing up creative combos. Better days await, however, as I approach Auckland and fuller supermarkets.

Reading right now: Conversations with my Country by Alan Duff

Mood: Sticky cloth, as previously noted

Distance walked so far: 511km

I will leave you all with this voluptuous Christmas tree