‘A walk in the park’
Lake Waikaremoana 25-12-08
Ron Pemberton
Aren’t women wonderful? Why in hell’s name they wanted equality is beyond me. Why come down to our level when they are just natural born leaders.
“Why don’t we have a nice walk in the country for our Christmas break?” My partner asked a month before Christmas.
“Yes, I’m game for that. What trails around Auckland were you thinking about?” I asked quizzically.
“I thought, Lake Waikaremoana.” She replied.
“That’s only an hour from Auckland, we could drive around it in a couple of hours.”
“No, not Lake Waikarea, Lake Waikaremoana in the Urewera’s. 3 ½ hours drive from Rotorua.”
“Bugger me! You must be joking. The mosquitoes are bigger than birds down there.” I murmured quietly.
“It will do us both the world of good. Lots of fresh air, camping under the stars just the ticket to brush away the old year and welcome in the new.”
“Fantastic”. I said with a forced smile. “Just the ticket, sand flies that want to suck my lovely English blood from every exposed piece of skin. A 20 + kilo pack on my back trying its best to push my face in the dirt at every stumble and finally, hoping like hell it doesn’t rain for seven days like it normally does at Christmas time in New Zealand. Some bloody hope!” I thought.
Before the trip I was organised. I had all the essentials a man needs. A light so I can go to the toilet early in the morning. A new pair of boots to make a few blisters, a few dried meals to cook and a hat with a flap to protect my neck from the burning sun (I like to be prepared in the event it doesn’t rain at Christmas time). On the other hand my partner organised the campsites, bought a tent, purchased enough food for at least five people to be fed for a month, scroggin in small pouches that she’d prepared before hand, ham, cheese, tomatoes, bacon for the first two days at the main camp site, eggs (you have got to have eggs with your bacon) and enough gas canisters to last a month. We got underway Christmas day and headed for Rotorua, along the way we stopped and had fresh bread rolls with cooked ham, cheese, tomatoes and a hot cup of coffee all prepared before hand by Robyn. Aren’t women marvelous?
Arriving late in the afternoon we had the tent up in a few minutes then a cooked meal of spaghetti and meatballs followed by a nice bottle of sauvignon blanc – now this is what I call camping. (photos click here) We were to spend two days in the main camp area before tackling the Great Walk around Lake Waikaremoana, which is one of the many Great Walks that have been developed by the Department of Conservation in New Zealand. It was classified as ‘Moderate’ what ever that meant. Not having ever tackled a tramp before, walking yes but never a tramp with a pack on my back, so this was to be a new experience. The lake can be walked in two directions, either from Onepoto or Hopuruahine we chose Hopuruahine. This allowed us a relatively easy start especially with all the food we had to carry for five days. From Onepoto the walk ascends almost vertically to the first hut, my partner bless her thought it advantageous to start at the ‘easy’ end first especially with the food we were carrying – clever girl. The walk is approximately 46 kilometres, much of it up hill.
26 December 08
So the adventure began and to prepare ourselves for the coming tramp we took ourselves off to tackle a few small walks of only a few hours’ durations around the main campsite. We walked the Black Beech Trail and then the cave system, not actual caves but large over hangs of rock made of sand stone possible thrown there during one of the many volcanic eruptions over the millennia. The guidebook said that if we were really lucky we might see some giant Weta’s. Whoopty bloody do. Giant Weta’s just what I want to see. Giant Weta’s, are huge armour plated, bug ugly insects that for my money can stay hidden in the caves.
I smiled as we walked through the forest and made encouraging noises about the foliage. Robyn knows all about the flora.
“Just look at that Northern Rata.” (a tree with red flowers).
“Oh, how wonderful, I nearly missed that one amongst all this green foliage.”
She’s wonderful she knows all the plants and trees, to me its just timber. And yes I did enjoy myself as long as I had the mossie repellant. Though one day they were so bad I thought I saw a couple of them drag a young child into the bushes. Enough of these ghoulish thoughts, we had to face the Great Walk the following day. Five wonderful days of living rough, no showers, no flush toilets, no clean sheets, no refrigerated beer. Is there anymore a civilised man could miss? (Boxing Day photos click here)
Day one - the start.
In the early days of ejection seats from fast moving fighter aircraft compression of the spine was a common problem as the acceleration forces pushed the body out of the aircraft. Thankfully for today’s jet pilot the acceleration is in several stages, which reduces any risk of spinal compression. The same cannot be said for tramping with a heavy pack on your back. The first hour into the journey the pack hung low on my back, which had previously been adjusted for a 6’4” ugly Australian friend of mine who borrowed the pack several years before. After an hour into the journey we stopped and tried adjusting the pack, arrgh so much better, I could feel the full load on my shoulders. On we tramped through the forest, large native ferns dotted the landscape. The track was muddy in places with small branches to step on, designed to keep your boots out of the soft black ooze. Ankle bending branches, one slip and it’s a ride back in the water taxi that had deposited us at the far end of the lake. But enough of the pit-falls and potential ankle snappers. The pack, still pressing down on my shoulders, felt like the world was sitting there. The campsite came in to view nestled in the Northern arm of the lake at the Tapuenui campsite (this is for those that would like to follow in our foot steps, on the internet no doubt). Some of the younger and fitter trampers that had been dropped off with us had raced ahead and claimed the best sites; we, being more civilised and not wanting to appear rushed and eager for a better site, took our time. A big sigh of relief from both of us as we dropped our packs but the body refused to acknowledge the weight reduction and defied our attempts to straighten into a normal posture. Our spines transformed by the compressional forces of the pack. (Day One photos click here)
Day two
The pack still weighs a ton and the track in places is extremely demanding. My fitness level, which is in all honesty, negligible, is only just getting me to the next camp. The one thing that’s gets you through this ordeal and in lots of ways it is an ordeal, even for those that have a higher fitness level than Robyn and I, is the people one meets on the journey. From the drop off point at the Northern end of the lake we have meet two lovely couples that have camped with us each evening provided us with a sharing of their experience and a good sense of humour. After a two and half hour trek through the forest we came to a hut site. One can either stay at a hut or camp, we choose to camp, being the rugged individuals that we are. Although, the final night on the walk can only be done in a hut as there is no camping at that particular site being high on a windy escarpment. Stopping at the rest hut we started talking to the people there, (as you do) when one of the men offered to take Robyn’s pack up and over the next ridge just to keep fit. While the campsite was only half an hour away the climb over the next saddle was considerable. The man, Ian, liked to keep fit and would run his wife’s and daughter packs further along the trail and then come back for his, a fitness person of renown within New Zealand, 48 years of age and the top mountain biker for his age group. I lead the way he striding along behind me as though it was an afternoons picnic walk whereas I stopped every five minutes puffing and blowing like an old steam train as we climbed over the ridge. The generosity of people in these situations brings back your faith in human nature when thrown together without the – what’s in it for me? Though I did promise to buy his family a goat for carrying the pack. It’s hard to find good porters these days.
Tomorrow is another six-hour day to the base of the escarpment where hopefully we can reduce some of the weight from our packs for the final climb to the top. (Day 2 photos click here)
Day Three
Rain is not a tramper’s friend. Yesterday the weather was beautiful, the forest canopy protecting us from the glare of the sun, the warmth enveloping us while we trudged along. As soon as I got to the camp I dropped my pack, took off my boots, and fell into the lake fully clothed. The morning was beautiful as we packed our tent and headed for our next destination. Along the trail a few drops of rain fell so we decided to put on our pack covers and then the rain started in earnest. Not bothering to stop again we continued on minus our coats by the time we reached the Korokoro camp we were wet through. Our final destination was another hour and half away. Discretion being the better part of valour we donned our raincoats and carried on. What can one expect in a Rain Forest – it rains. After finally reaching our destination and setting up the tents everyone was in good spirits especially after a meal, you will notice I didn’t say good meal, as the dried meals are fine for a tramp when you’re hungry but not exactly haute cuisine. We left about half of the weight of our packs behind for the water taxi to pick up, the tent, which turned out to weigh 4.5 kilo’s and many clothes that would not be required for the next two days, including our bedrolls as the huts had mattresses. It was an estimated four and half hour climb to the top of Panekiri then a four hour decent to the end of the walk. If the rain continues it wont help, as the track and the climb will be slippery, a real test of our endurance. A few young people have done the up and down in one day, I will be happy just getting up in a day. The sand flies are still driving everyone crazy even with insect repellant here at the base of Panekiri they appear to be worse. (Day 3 photos click here)
Day four
Its 5.30 in the morning and still raining – wonderful and today we tackle Panekiri not exactly Mt Everest but will be an achievement to be proud of. It wont be pleasant especially with all the rain. Thank god we lightened our load.
Day four
Panekeri 4.50 pm we made it after six hours, the park estimates it should take you on average 4 hours. This is assuming you don’t stop and talk to all the people you meet on the trail including the occasional comfort stop. Our apprehension of the climb turned out to be an anticlimax. Many on the trail had talked about the steep and dangerous places that had to be traversed. During the climb to reach the top and the awful descent the next day that for some, the thought of climbing it was very nearly a decision whether to climb or not. The fear of the unknown can be a strong deterrent. We started out with the rain falling steadily and the way ahead straight up. The path wound its way up the escarpment with some difficult parts, which required both hands to pull yourself up to the next level. In some areas the place would have been impossible for an average tramper without the necessary climbing equipment. The Department of Conservation made provision by building wooden steps and bridges across and up the most difficult bits. Once at the half way point in the tramp the walk almost becomes a ‘Walk in the park’ as the track levels out through leafy glades of Beech and Ferns. We ambled along with the occasional and easy climb up towards the hut. Gaps in the foliage allowed us occasional and tantalizing but magnificent glimpses of the lake below. Then the rain stopped and the heat of the day created a mist, which hung like a crumpled lace curtain finally blocking any view of the lake. The hut was a welcome sight and our new companions had saved us a good bunk. The hut was filled with people from all over New Zealand and some from Canada. I arrived almost refreshed after the climb, the adrenalin from the endorphins giving me a huge high, no pun intended. Many in the hut thought I’d taken something – a drug, maybe? Although the climb took us six hours instead of the four and half that was normal but we weren’t in any hurry and it was pleasant chatting to all we met along the way. The headiness of the views and friendliness of those we encountered brought a spark I had been missing for some time. We all travel this road of life with its ups and downs, its glorious moments and its depressive ones. So when we experience the highs we need to savour them as much as possible. The trail from the start had brought its moments of angst but overall a great joy. The joy came from small moments of kindness shown by our fellow travelers, from friendships made at each camp and from those we walked the trail with. (Day 4 photos click here)
Day five
We have finally got to our motel in Rotorua the muscles in our legs having contracted with a few hours rest after our six hours decent of Pankiri. We met most of the people that had stayed in the hut the night before at the bottom before we got on the water taxi. Everyone was smiling and joking and congratulating each other on the effort put in over the five days. We might never meet again but the pleasure of their momentary companionship along the way brought forth a sense that as human beings we are better than the world seems to think we are.
I have felt this joy many times in my life, when my son was born, interacting with him has he grew to manhood. Other times when I’ve stopped to look at a view so magnificent that it is impossible to describe. There are times when I forget where I last put this ‘drug’ or to take it. But the ‘drug’ is available to all. It’s life in all its glory; life with its small pleasures. Pleasures taken from the ordinary, an individuals laugh, a smile, a persons courage when faced with life’s uncertainties, friendship and a million dollar view that can’t be bought but can be enjoyed by all for a few pennies and a little effort.
When I strolled into the hut on that last night those that knew this was my first tramp asked me how I’d done climbing up. I replied, “It was a walk in the park.” (Day 5 photos click here)
Day Six The 1st day of 2009.
Last night was Heaven with those symbols of civilization that surround us. A nice hot shower, a flush toilet, clean white sheets, and a remote control for the TV - what more could a man need? We languished in a hot spa for what seemed like an age then we sat back with a good bottle of red wine (Merlot) from that other Eden - The Hawkes Bay. After much sleep such glorious sleep, on a comfortable but firm mattress we awoke with our legs muscles still aching from the previous day. Walking down the steps of the motel our gait made us both look like two ancient and arthritic seniors. We hobbled down Fenton Street in Rotorua for 2 kilometres at a snails pace each step our calf muscles sending out spasms of pain. Stopping for brunch we savoured the delights of a cooked breakfast not made on a camp stove and assembled from packets of unknown origin. We sat and waited whilst someone else made us, eggs Benedict with salmon. It was a sensual overload of culinary pleasure. Arggh civilization where all your needs are catered for with the swipe of a card.
“We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience, and we live without
heart;
We may live without friends; we may live without
books;
But civilized man cannot live without cooks.” Owen Meredith (Earl of Lytton 1831-1891)
Next time someone says – “What about a walk in the country?” I will travel a lot lighter. Maybe, if I can find someone, to carry the pack.
