After surviving the infamous stretch between Auckland and Hamilton, we decided to push through Hamilton and make it all the way to Whatawhata, where hikers are allowed to camp out behind a café. After we spent (too much) time in Auckland, we didn’t want to waste yet another day in a city.
Suddenly, the hikers are back, but no familiar faces. This trail has sections where hikers notoriously skip, and there are also quite some attractions to visit off the trail (get drawn into big city life in Auckland or visit Hobbiton or go on a side trip to Rotorua to experience geysers and bubbling mud pools). All this makes it hard to grow a feeling of a hiker community on the trail so far.
Anyway, after some more road walking and crossing more farmland (I proudly think I take stiles pretty swiftly now and shrug my shoulder over even more cows coming close from time to time), we approached Mount Pirongia. How could it be otherwise, of course, Pirongia is an (extinct?) volcano. With 959 m of elevation, it is the highest mountain in the area. As there is a mountain hut near the summit, we planned on splitting up the crossing by spending the night on top in the hut and taking on an expected slog down the mountain the next day. We were fortunate with the weather going up: bright sunshine, fantastic views over the Waikato, and the trail rather intermediate challenging. However, the weather changed overnight, and the following day, the mountain was stuck in clouds, and a light rain set in when we left the hut. The approximately 5 kilometers down the mountain back to a gravel road took us 4.5 hours: the trail was a slog through often knee-deep mud pits (after cautiously probing the ground with our hiking poles, we were mainly able to maneuver around the deep ones), over rugged roots, and from time to time I was holding on to branches and shimmying myself around the worst parts like a monkey.
Eventually, back on the road, we zoomed towards a trail angel’s place for the night. But on the way, we encountered a farmer on his horse separating calves from their cow moms. He galloped towards us and interrogated us most sympathetically and cheerily about the hike, our jobs, and where we came from while sitting unimpressed by the constant rain on his horse and not looking uncomfortable at all.
Later, we arrived at Trail Angel Jo’s farm. She provided a warm and dry place to sleep in her spacious garage, where she served us a fantastic dinner (including beer and ice cream!) and where we had a nice chat with three other hikers and Jo herself on how she became such an excellent support for us hikers. It fascinates and touches me how people dedicate so much of their time to hikers, open their homes for us to provide a place to stay, and only expect some stories and a small koha (donation) in return that covers the cost.
Passing Waitomo Caves, one of the major sights in Aotearoa (that we ignored for now, as we don’t feel like sightseeing in a conventional way), we made our way to Te Kuiti.
