Te Araroa: Tongariro Holiday Park to Whanganui Holiday Park

Day 36 (1/14/24): 22mi, +5720ft // 36.6km, +1744m

Tongariro Holiday Park to Whakapapa Holiday Park

A huhu, one of New Zealand’s largest beetles, and yes, they do fly.

I slept hard from 9-11:30PM and then the screaming chorus of possums began. Their rasping shrieks sound like someone stepping on a wet squeaky toy hard, then letting their foot up slow. Over and over.

I was surrounded.

I’d made the mistake of pitching my tent close to the trees which, during the earlier hours of the afternoon, had provided shade, but now I was far too close to the nocturnal hoard of food snatching gremlins.

There had to be at least 5, no, make that 10 possums and I imagined they were all headed straight for me.

Meanwhile, ever since dusk had fallen, dozens of giant cockroaches had been flying face first into the walls of my tent—they were literally piling up near my shoes, which luckily I’d flipped upside down.

I turned my headlamp on and beamed it into the trees, it didn’t scare the possums at all but it did get the roaches going. I could hear their big wings beating frantically against the glowing outer wall of my tent.

Sleep was not going to happen anymore for me on this night. I sighed a big sigh and set about packing my tent up; it was 1AM.

I wasn’t the only one disturbed, Peter was awake too, and I nearly gave him a heart attack when he entered the dark kitchen where I was sitting, eating oatmeal.

“Ahhh,” he gasped, startled, gripping his chest.

“I’m sorry!” I spluttered. “I didn’t know whether I should say something, or if that would just make myself scarier.”

He seemed genuinely frightened. I’d been distracted on my phone, reading about the huhu, realizing it wasn’t cockroaches flying into my tent, rather, giant beetles with super long antennae.

By 2AM we were both walking in the dark, with just a little distance between us. I kept my headlamp off and enjoyed the stars along the 4 miles of road to the start of the hiking track. The more my eyes adjusted, the more beautiful the night sky became.

At the start of the single track my pace slowed drastically and Peter passed me. Suddenly I was quite tired, all the stress caused by the possums and the 2.5hr of sleep I got washed over me like a wave.

I was seeing them everywhere now, the possums, their bulbous eyes tracking me from the dark. And they didn’t care at all, didn’t even bat an eye at my approach. I snarled at a few of them just because it made me feel big, but to them I was nothing.

Once I’d climbed up a couple thousand feet into the alpine, Taki and Leo went flying past me—Taki was running to catch sunrise—Leo was just doing his best to keep up.

I followed the three bouncing headlamp beams of the boys in front of me for another half hour or so, and then I realized I was gaining on them. My body had adjusted to the lack of sleep and I’d found my rhythm, as I tend to above treeline.

Dawn broke a hot streak of orange on the horizon, fading upwards into a persistent, cozy blanket of indigo. Only one or two stars remained illuminated against the ever brightening backdrop.

Happiness flooded me with each new color painting the sunrise, and I acknowledged to myself this was one of those moments I would remember and cherish for years to come.

When we reached Blue Lake the sun was just about to peek it’s warm face over the ridge.

Taki was beside himself, he even FaceTimed his girlfriend in Japan so that she could see. And his enthusiasm was contagious, all 4 of us were smiling ear to ear despite the brutal wind and chill in the air.

The silvery surface of the lake bristled with wind; it looked like a giant hand had raked the scales of a fish backwards, causing them all to stand upright. When the sun touched the water finally, its shattered surface shone like diamonds.

I was the first to move on, I was getting too cold standing still. And the walk continued to be stunning.

The shadows cast by the volcanic cones were perfectly geometric, all crisp lines, light and dark. Alpen glow lit against the impressive walls of scree and rock, geysers released puffs of steam higher up.

The Emerald Lakes looked delicious enough to bathe in, but I knew they were probably full of sulphur, volcanic minerals, and potentially scalding toxins, so I admired them from afar as I breathed hard and ascended the steep ridge.

Once I reached the saddle above the lakes, I surveyed the rugged volcanic crater.

I met two girls up there who were doing the circuit trek and we took each others photos. It’s so nice to get a real picture of myself taken every now and again!

When I pushed on, the burst of energy I’d found while climbing vanished, I slowed drastically, I was overwhelmed with awe for this place.

Mount Ngauruhoe (aka Mount Doom from LOTR) stood strong and proud before me, her reddish hide like skin of a rare animal, I could swear she was breathing. Shadows painted her flanks with dark fingers, ever receding as the sun rose higher.

I sat on a rock and just stared in wonderment.

If this is it—if walking and seeing and feeling is all I’m meant to do with my life, then let it be enough. Please, let this be enough.

Peter, Taki and Leo decided to climb Mount Ngauruhoe, I abstained because it is a culturally sensitive site.

I hiked downhill, against the growing flow of traffic (hundreds of people hike the Crossing northbound each day in peak season, then busses pick them up at the other end to shuttle them back to their cars). It was maddening trying to make progress, but I couldn’t help but feel grateful that I’d had the “summit” to myself, at least.

When I made it into Whakapapa Village, I made a beeline for the Holiday Park. I’d read good things about it and even though it was only 10:30AM, I was eager to end my day of hiking there.

The woman at the desk was super friendly and set me up with a room in the dorm, out of the oncoming rain. She also recommended the food truck, Mel’s, which parked a few blocks down. Mel’s did not disappoint! 😋

Peter, Taki, and Leo hobbled into town a few hours after me. Taki rolled his ankle and Leo tore up his hand on Mount Doom. But everyone seemed in good spirits despite that.

A sick hiker was brought into the holiday park and deposited in one of the bunks that afternoon.

The sick hiker proceeded to puke his brains out all evening and all night; he refused to go to hospital. He had drunk water from one of the lakes on the volcano and I had zero compassion for his situation.

You’d have to either be arrogant or idiotic to do something like that when there are signs everywhere telling you not to. Or, I mean, he could’ve just acknowledged the fact that he’s hiking on an active volcano and any water on it or coming out of it is probably poisonous.

Taki and I switched bunks to get away from him and I slept like a dream.

Day 37 (1/15/24): 31mi, +1798ft // 51.6km, +548m

Whakapapa to Coopers Crossing Trail Angel

I woke from a deep sleep to my alarm at 5:45AM. I wanted plenty of time to cover the 30mi distance to Shannon and Roger’s house, the Coopers Crossing Trail Angels, this evening.

It was pouring rain, of course, but I didn’t mind. I was just glad the weather had held for the Tongariro Crossing the day before. I checked in with Peter and then headed out into the wet morning.

At first the forest track was beautifully groomed, it was the Whakapapaiti Valley Track, and it wound along a creek, past water falls, and took me over a series of board walks across alpine wetlands.

Then, as all forest and farm tracks tend to do, it deteriorated until I felt I was walking in a stream, not next to one.

At times, the water was shin deep. Rain pelted down from above and water splashed up from below. I started to get chilled so quickened my pace.

Sopping wet branches smacked into my face and more than once I plunged a foot down into a hole of unknowable depth. I was getting more frustrated the wetter I got—then came the clay luge.

I’m not sure what else to call this particular feature besides a luge, because suddenly the trail just ended, dropped sharply into nothing like a giant ogre had clawed the earth to bits, leaving behind a massive crater. The trail clearly picked back up on the other side of the rift, level to where I was currently standing.

I sighed.

My only option was straight down one 10ft clay wall, and then straight back up the other across the divide. It wasn’t easy work, but I made the traverse happen and only wiped out half a dozen times doing it.

At the end of the forest track I dove into the toilet building at the Mangahuia Campground, out of the rain.

I scarfed down some Oreos and ate a package of tuna, trying not to think about how many people have utilized this toilet for its actual purpose. At least it was warm and dry in there.

Then, wishing I hadn’t lost my umbrella somewhere along the Timber Trail, I dashed back out into the rain and hit the highway hard.

I pounded pavement for 4 miles, covering the distance in barely more than an hour. At the sight of the Four Square Gas Station in National Park Village my heart did a happy flip-flop in my chest and I practically ran to it.

Pies! Hot chocolate! Warm food was all I could think of.

I dropped my pack outside and stepped, dripping wet and cold, into the air conditioning (oofta, it was chilly). I grabbed a few extra snacks and a dinner to tide me over until my canoe trip resupply was brought to Whakahoro, then I picked out two pies for now and made a hot chocolate at the little cafe machine.

The woman at the checkout counter was kind, but she looked utterly bewildered by me. I didn’t blame her, I was certain I looked wildly out of place inside the tidy shop. While many hikers avoid bad weather or skip sections of trail altogether to avoid it, I am one of the rare few who does not.

An oddity for sure.

After enjoying my spoils under the dry awning of the gas station, I stepped back out into the rain to hike another 14 or so miles.

The clouds began to lift and the rain dwindled to a fine mist. I enjoyed the gravel track and the short farm track to Coopers Crossing. It felt like an easy afternoon despite the weather.

When I reached the monument and saw Sharron’s house I was flooded with relief. I’d survived another wet day on trail and I’d confirmed with her that I could sleep “indoors”, which meant the camper van parked in the yard was mine for the night. It was perfect.

Day 38 (1/16/24): 15.6mi, +1117ft // 26km, +340m

Coopers Crossing to Whakahoro DOC Campsite

The next morning I took things slowly, thanking Sharron for her hospitality, drying out my wet clothes in the sun when it finally peeked out from behind the clouds, and chatting with the other hikers.

Rory, Ralf, Eva, Tom, Kez, Eric, and Tobin had all stayed the night as well and were all—save for Rory who was hiking to Bridge to Nowhere, taking a jet boat, then riding a bike to Whanganui—canoeing tomorrow.

I was still slightly unsure if Leo would canoe with me, he’d seemed keen on kayaking alone but if that wasn’t an option, I was hoping we could paddle together. Everyone else seemed to have partners.

The walk to Whakahoro was a short one. I walked with Kez and Tom for a while, and when we stopped around halfway for lunch, I made a new trail snack that I absolutely love! Brioche with cream cheese and olives. Delicious.

(Apparently the Whanganui River was in flood, meaning it would be moving fast and the rapids would be less challenging. I was a bit relieved when the trail angels gave us the river update, I really didn’t want to lose my gear in a rapid.)

I was wilting in the heat of the day and sweat was pouring off me by the time I reached Whakahoro Campground. There was very little shade there to my disappointment, but I squeezed into a bench at the one covered picnic table with some other hikers and tried to cool off.

I checked in with myself and could tell I was feeling a little anxious. Worried about canoeing and worried about who my partner would be, nervous to be with such a big group—there were 19 of us! And I felt like my hike was out of my control, like I was at the mercy of the group and not operating on my own schedule anymore.

I knew this section would be hard for me psychologically, and a big part of me wished I’d just done what Rory did and organize solo transport so that I could have total independence. But I also knew I would grow from this experience, plus, I genuinely liked to canoe!

Day 39 (1/17/24) CANOE DAY 1: 30mi // 50km

Whakahoro to Mangawhaiiti DOC Campsite

I woke up in a rain forest. The surface tension of the water coating the inside of my tent had broken and I was getting dripped on.

I rushed to pack up my gear as quickly as possible, trying my best not to shake anymore rain free of my tent fly. Keeping my sleeping bag “dry” was my highest priority.

Once I’d packed up, I moved my entire life over to the covered picnic table and ate breakfast while I watched the swallows chirp, fuss, and preen in the foggy morning air. They had so much to say and seemed thrilled by the dew clinging to every available surface.

Around 9AM, when everyone was awake and mostly packed up, we all migrated the 500m down to the boat ramp. Leo and I finally confirmed with one another that we would, indeed, be paddling partners. I was relieved. He had canoed before—an added bonus—and appreciated that I, too, was proficient with a paddle.

We set about loading our barrels; the big ones were for things that could get wet since they weren’t water-tight, the small barrels were waterproof so I loaded one with my food and one with my camping gear.

Living life out of a barrel wasn’t unfamiliar to me, I’d done it for 25 consecutive days in Yukon on a NOLS expedition, canoeing the Hess River. But transferring my carefully packed life from my backpack into the plastic rounds this time felt scary, even though the paddle trip itself was only 4-5 days long, I had to make it so much longer than just a month with all my gear. I hoped we didn’t tip over.

Once the boat was loaded, Leo and I shoved off away from the chaos on shore.

I paddled in the front of the boat on the first day, meaning I was the motor. After about 10minutes of paddling, I remembered how to do it without exhausting my arms, primarily using my core and my upper back.

I love canoeing. Paddling was almost meditative—the soft slapping of the water against the boat, the gentle splash each time my paddle dipped below the surface, the smooth motion of pulling the boat forward through the water—I’d missed this.

The water was an opaque brown from all the rain; the Whanganui was technically in flood still, meaning we’d move swiftly today, without having to work too hard.

Thirty miles flew by and before we knew it, we’d arrived at the tie-up location for the DOC campsite. I craned my neck to look up the steep slope, where I assumed the camping was. I sighed internally, knowing we’d have to carry all of our barrels up there.

The minute we docked, the clouds of sandflies were on us, their tiny black mouths munching happily on any exposed flesh as we raced to tie the canoe up and unpack the boat.

Panic filled my throat, is this what it would be like every night!?

I swallowed my nerves and made quick work of lugging each barrel all the way up the slippery stairs cut into the grassy hill.

The campsite was insane. Children ran around screaming—this was a Great Walk, so it made sense for there to be other campers besides TA hikers—giant tents where pitched every which way, taking up way too much space and the one covered picnic table was entirely covered in food and gear that most certainly belonged to the large family groups.

Tiny ultralight tents dotted the remaining space and I quickly threw mine up alongside the others. My spot was kind of slanted but I didn’t care, at that point fatigue had set in and all I wanted to do was eat dinner and sleep.

Peter, Leo, Taki, Chris, Tobin, Tom and I all crowded around a picnic table in the trees to cook, commiserating and laughing about the utter chaos of canoeing thus far.

Day 40 (1/18/24) CANOE DAY 2: 20mi // 33km

Mangawhaiiti to Ngaporo DOC Campsite

The paddling today felt faster than yesterday, mostly because we had a tailwind and NOT because I was steering in the back. I’d forgotten how much focus steering takes—and energy! Being that Leo was taller than I was, he certainly weighed more, and it took all my effort to keep us pointing straight down the river.

Early on in the day we “docked” at a very slippery, steep, rock outcropping, to hike to the Bridge to Nowhere. It is a bridge, in the middle of nowhere! But now it is part of a trail system and does actually go somewhere. The hike was about 3 miles round trip, and it was nice to move my body outside of the canoe.

Later, Leo and I paddled into a little cove with a tall waterfall, cascading down like a horsetail, surrounded by moss and ferns. We took turns standing under it, enjoying the bracingly cold water while dodging giant, long-legged river spiders (there were so many!).

We had a great day, and Leo wasn’t even mad when I sent us down a rather large rapid backwards when I lost control of the boat. It happens.

I managed to spin us right around just in time to avoid hitting a giant rock; shortly after that we made it to our second camp on the river, Ngaporo DOC Campsite. I used an eddy to hook us around and park the canoe on the rocky shore.

Unloading the barrels was much easier this go around, as we did not have to climb a vertical cliff of slick grass like the night before. The sandflies were still horrendous, though.

Ngaporo Camp was infinitely more chill and comfortable than Mangawhaiiti. It was just us TA walkers and we had an amazing view of the River and the rapids coming up.

At this point in the trip, everyone agreed we could finish paddling in 4 days, rather than 5, meaning the next two days would be big ones.

I was happy about this decision; it meant less time hanging out in camp at night and more time making miles on the river!

Day 41 (1/19/24) CANOE DAY 3: 34mi // 56.6km

Ngaporo to River Time Lodge and Campground

Leo and I left camp at 8AM and stopped at a cave with a giant waterfall pouring down into it. He was in the back steering again, and I was so glad to just have to focus on moving us forward.

The water in the cavern sounded thunderous and the drooping ferns around the entrance immediately had me thinking of pirates and hidden treasure. The spray from the pounding of the falls was invigorating as I stood staring into the dark cove.

After the waterfall, we paddled through a series of small rapids—one of which was the infamous 50/50 where half of the canoes were liable to tip over—and had no issues. We suspected the water levels were still a bit high, making the rapids easier to manage.

At one point, Leo and I rafted up with several other canoes, meaning we were all tied together—which, if you know me and my control-freak-nature, you know I was anxious about—and went through a much larger rapid as one mondo canoe.

Tom, Matt, and Kez were having a grand time, drinking beer, not a care in the world. Leonie and I, the only girls, were stressing. All the boats took on water and my paddle was sucked out of my hands and into a whirlpool, but I’m pretty sure Peter and Taki slept through the whole ordeal.

At the Pipiriki pullout I immediately untied our canoe from the others and scrutinized the water’s surface for my errant paddle. Nothing.

Then, out of nowhere, it shot to the surface! Tom and Kez paddled out and retrieved it for me—real super heroes!

The rest of the day was pretty lazy. We all paddled in the vicinity of one another, and Leo and I almost flipped over in a rapid because he was making a peanut butter tortilla rather than steering and I just wasn’t paying any attention at all.

There was a giant log jam just under the surface of the water at the start of a small waterfall—we were headed right for it!

We jumped into action but weren’t quite quick enough to avoid grazing the submerged tree and took on quite a bit of water.

The day ended with all 8 of us camping at River Time Lodge, a cozy little campground in someone’s backyard. It had WiFi and a hot shower, a delightful kitchen and a bunch of flat ground. What more do you need!?

Day 42 (1/20/24) CANOE DAY 4: 23.6mi // 39km

River Time to Whanganui Holiday Park

Our last day of paddling felt so slow. The current was barely moving, Leo was barely paddling, and I was so ready to get to Whanganui already.

I missed Logan terribly; I spent most of the day thinking about how grateful for him I was. How lucky I am that he is so supportive of me being in New Zealand for 4 months to hike this trail.

Despite my homesickness and desire to be off the river, the day was still a fun one. I swam, got massively sunburnt from paddling in my sports bra for an hour, we all laughed my baseless fear of river eels—it was a good time.

Getting to the pull off at the Whanganui Holiday Park signaled the end of our time canoeing. We’d arrived amid a group of rowers who moved so gracefully on the river, it was mesmerizing to watch them.

All accommodations in town were booked up besides campsites at the Holiday Park, so that is where everyone stayed. Apparently there was an Antique Festival going on and that is why all the hostels were full. This was a bit stressful because I’d hoped to stay in town, not 3 miles outside of it.

I was painfully hungry by the time I’d set my tent up and started laundry and town was over an hour walk away, so I ordered delivery from Hell Pizza via Grubhub—a worthwhile splurge—and then showered. I FaceTimed Logan in between chores and felt much better after our convo.

It’s not that any part of me wanted to quit the trail, not even a little bit. I just missed Logan and our routine and I wanted so badly to share this adventure with him in more ways than just phone calls.

He’d arrive in New Zealand April 3rd, though, and then we would have adventures of our own together, it just felt like such a long way away!

I was really looking forward to getting back to hiking again, and having my own schedule and a bit of alone time. Canoeing was a great adventure, but it was time to get back to walking!

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