Day 47: Hauhungaroa Hut to Taringamotu Road

Distance Covered: 26 km

We woke up today to the same gray, in-the-cloud conditions we fell asleep to. Just a glance out the window told you it was the perfect weather for cuddling in bed with a book and hot chocolate. Wind whipped fragments of cloud wisps past the trees barely visible through the fog and mist. Our socks and shoes, which were outside due to their muddiness, were now well chilled. If it wasn’t for the post office deadline I think we would have just stayed there for most of the day waiting for the sun to come out.

But no, resolutely we went out, onward and forward! And straight into the mud. It was raining just enough to make things damp and soggy, but not soaking. It was just cold enough that you would shiver if you weren’t moving. It was just windy enough to be noticeable, but not a gale. It was a real threshold kind of day.

But of course, the mud exceeded the thresholds. Long and knee deep and slippery, it went on and on. By now, we’re mostly used to the mud. You can’t be mad at the situation for long as it just wastes emotional energy. You don’t like it, but you deal with it. It still finds ways to be obnoxious, though, like today where the trail builders took us deep into steep stream gullies. They depend on the thick jungle roots to get you down and up, but the mud slides over the roots so you have to sometimes dig around a little bit in the mud to find something to hold onto. It’s not long before you are covered with the stuff. You can see the dark mud line in Emily's pants in this picture.

At one point, we came across a large log bridging the gap. The log, though, was slanted down at maybe 20 degrees and slick with a fine layer of mud. The log was two meters or so above the stream and ground… not deep enough to kill you, but you could easily break something. And of course, nobody wants to fall off a log in the rain anyways. Emily made it across by being very careful. My shoes have no traction on the bottom left so I had a harder time. I considered one big slide, but resorted to crab walking it. I’m the very model of dignified.

In the end, it took us 3 hours to go 7 km. Slow going stuff, even with the “get it done” attitude and tramping through much of the mud. We stopped at a stream very near the end of it and washed up to our knees. With most of the mud gone we walked around the corner to find one more big mud pit with no option to go around. Ha!

There was a sad part just after this. We came across two ducks and 7 or 8 ducklings on the trail. The bushes on either side were so dense that even the ducks could not get through. They ran forward with their ducklings. We didn’t want to bother them, but didn’t have a choice. Then, even though we were trying to be slow and cautious, the ducks ran over a log bridge. Some of their ducklings made it, but four of them fell off and into the little stream. They were chirping loudly, the parents were panicking, and we didn’t know what we should do. We ended up trying to get by as fast as possible. The parents flew into the trees leaving all the ducklings behind and we got by them as fast as we possibly could, hoping the parents would come back. We don’t know what happened afterwards, other than other hikers said they didn't see them later. Hopefully, the parents collected all of them and got them off that trail so other hikers don’t have to bother them.

Lunch at the proper end was good and then the 32 km road walk section started. And so did the rain. For the next 7 hours we trudged along the side of a rural farm road while the rain came down exceptionally steady. It was rain in the traditional sense and it didn’t waiver in its intensity in the slightest. And it was coldish. Maybe low 60s or so. Trudge, trudge, trudge. Here's picture of Emily with her "I'm here to trudge" face.

One high point was that we took a small break on the side of the road. We sat under our umbrellas, feet tucked in, staying as dry as possible while we munched on snacks. A few minutes into this, we heard a quad bike pull up. We peeked out and a woman said they were about to open the gate behind us and run the sheep up the road. We promptly got up and watched the show. They used sheep dogs and it was fascinating. They so smartly worked the hundred or so sheep through the paddock and gate that I doubt a human could better the performance. Watching them leap fences, stand by a sheep trapped in a fence to alert the owner, and race to the front of the herd to change the direction was thrilling.

Then more marching in the rain until we got to “Sam’s Stop”, a little wooden structure outside a farmhouse that a young boy runs for Te Araroa hikers. It had water, a world map, candy, and little things like that. The best part for us was the picnic table where we could make dinner. Just about as soon as we started that process, the rain finally stopped. It took a few minutes, but we even saw the sun for 30 seconds.

Where to camp was a big topic. We did not want to get to town because the place to stay was 5 km past the post office. But we didn’t want to be far either. But too close and it’s too populated to camp on the side of the road. As always, we just started hiking and hoped something would come up. About 10 km from town, something did: a gravel turnout next to a bridge. It was fairly wide and not too many people would be likely to drive by. We chose a spot farthest from the road and setup. 

Some traffic has come by, but it’s been fairly quiet. And it’s not raining anymore, which is great. Tomorrow we will head into town, buying food for the next four day section, getting our box at the post office, and then walking the 5 km to the camping park.