Te Urewera

It was definitely time for a hike, so Cory and I planned our next tramp for this past weekend. The best-known walks seem to be multiple-day walks, maybe 3-4 days long. But Cory purchased a book with 1-2 day hikes, which are much more do-able for us, as we can do them in a weekend and Cory doesn’t have to take time off.

The hikes in the book are rated easy, medium, and hard. There aren’t too many hard ones, as these tend to require mountaineering and/or climbing skills. We’d done some hikes rated as “easy” and found that they were not exactly what I would describe as a walk in the park, but that they weren’t too bad. The one we chose for last weekend was rated “medium” but the book explained that this was due to the length of the walk. The plan was to head to Te Urewera National Park. We would hike about 5-6 hours in to a hut, spend the night, and then hike back out on Sunday.

The hut system here is really nice; there isn’t really anything like it in Iowa. Along set trails, there are huts for people to stay the night. You simply need to purchase an inexpensive pass at the local Department of Conservation to stay there. There are different “levels” of huts, which indicate sort of which amenities they offer; this is usually based on how popular the walk. Huts range from the “standard” variety – with pit toilets, water, and bunks to “Great Walk” huts, which usually have several bunk rooms (sleeping up to 30 or so), a cooking area with heating sources and maybe a grill, water, and toilets.

Our planned walk was to Manuoha Hut, which fell in to the “standard” category. Really, that should have been our first warning. If this was a fun, pleasant walk, it would be well-traversed and would require a somewhat larger hut.

Our second and third warnings were more obvious, but we disregarded them all the same. As we were chatting with the officer at the Department of Conservation in Te Urewera (after driving on almost-two-lane, mostly-gravel roads for an hour-and-a-half), he mentioned that it was supposed to snow up on the summit. Two key words here… “snow” and “summit”. I was so freaked out by the word “snow” that I almost disregarded the word “summit”. Manuoha is the highest peak in the small range within Te Urewera. Granted, it is small – only 1400 meters, but normally, I would not agree to I walk up anything that has had the word “summit” applied to it. But – really – SNOW!? Are you kidding me? I thought perhaps the officer was, but he wasn’t the smiling type, and it seemed that the forecast from the Met did involve snow. As Cory pointed out, it was probably not really snow, just flurries. Small comfort, but I was persuaded on all the same.

Another warning was posted at the trail head. The sign read “Mt. Manuoha Hut – 7 hours”. While these times are usually a little off, this was an hour longer than what we’d planned. Yikes. But they are off sometimes… so on we went.

The last warning came shortly after we started our walk. Within about 20 feet of the trailhead , I was clambering up a rocky, steep slope, using my hands to grasp rocks and tree roots to help me up, while lugging my pack and losing my breath. At this point there was still time to turn around, but did we give in to the warning signs? Of course not. (Though I totally would have if Cory had made any noises in that direction.)

I tried to tell myself that the trail would get better, but the landscape was telling a different tale. For an hour and a half, we clambered upward, using trees, roots, and rocks as handholds. Often I had to swing my knees, one at a time, over a particularly steep ledge, into a crawling position before I could get up on my feet. Remember, as you are trying to stop laughing at that visual, that I am carrying a large backpack with food, a stove, a pot/pan set, and a sleeping bag in it. And I’m muttering to myself. Sometimes cursing, sometimes encouraging, but always muttering. Now, go ahead and laugh…

After the first hour and half, the climb slackened somewhat – but we still had four hours to go! I didn’t know that at the time, because I didn’t see the little hand-carved sign tacked to a tree. And Cory didn’t point it out - good thinking on his part…

As we continued the climb/walk, we did pass through some amazing scenery. From a barren spot along the ridge, you could see the summit. I was so grateful to know it was visible. And once we got to the summit, we knew the hut was close. I was so, so, so pleased!

Of course, we still had the night to go, you know, with “flurries” possible! We dropped our packs and Cory set about getting a fire going, as I worked on getting dinner ready. The wood, though, was so damp, even after working for probably an hour, Cory couldn’t get a fire started. So we ate a dinner of partially cooked rice (I need some more practice with the stove) and tomato soup and headed to bed. We crawled into our sleeping bags fully dressed, including our hats and gloves. Luckily, Stacy and Clay got us some great sleeping bags and we were warm all night long. When we woke up, the sun was shining, and it was warmer than it had been when we made it to the hut. What a relief!We did still have the walk down, but I was in much better spirits, knowing that downhill would be easier. And it was, except for that last hour and half. Going down what we had previously come up was just as tricky! It was good to know, sort of, that I wasn’t just being a wimp, but that it had been quite a tough climb. And I’ve never been as glad to see our car. We took off down the almost-two-lane, mostly-gravel road.

Oh, but the adventures weren’t quite over. After about an hour and a half, those gravel roads ended and we stopped at Murupara, which is the closest town to Te Urewera. We were really hungry and popped into a fish and chips store to order lunch. After we placed our order, we waited out on the sidewalk, watching what appeared to be most of the town drive by. A campervan pulled up next to our car and a long, loud hissing sound began. I commented to Cory how glad I was we had decided against the campervan for our South Island trip – I mean, who wants a vehicle that makes that sort of suspicious noise?

Well, after we picked up our fish and chips, we realized that the suspicious noise had actually been coming from our car! Our drivers-side front wheel was resting on its rim, the tire completely flat. Luckily Cory has had plenty of practice with changing tires and, in all his sensibleness, had insisted on purchasing a full-sized spare. So I got the jack out, while he began loosening lug nuts. But, with the car jacked up and the lug nuts off, we discovered that we couldn’t get the wheel off the car. (I use the term “we” here, but I was really just a not-so-useful observer.) By this time, we’d attracted some attention, and several people had dropped by to offer advice. The most helpful girl agreed that, indeed, the wheel did not want to seem to come off, and hollered to a young guy driving by for a hammer. The hammer was promptly supplied and the owner applied it to the backside of the wheel – and off it popped. Cory quickly put the spare on, popped on the classy wheel cover, and we were ready to go. Another woman said we should check in at the garage and see if they could fix it for us. So we said goodbye to our new friends and headed to the garage. They had the tire fixed in about as much time as it took to pump gas, and they charged us a whopping $8.00. Unbelieveable. If you have to break down in New Zealand, I would pick Murupara.

That classy wheel-cover, by the way, made it through most, but not all, of the ride home. As we were taking off from a red light on the far side of Tauranga, Cory heard the sound of plastic meeting asphalt. We thought about stopping, turning around, and running through traffic to pick it up, but decided against it. I think the old Honda can do without.

(A short note... When we got home, we referred back to the book of recommended tramps. Seems we'd failed to note the sentence that discussed a "steep climb" at the start of the Manuoha Hut Track. Whoops.)