Te Araroa Trail Blog Day 4: Utea Park to Ahipara

**I lost many of my photos from the section up to Auckland. Unfortunately I have lost all the photos from the final day on Ninety Mile Beach, so this post is photo-less.**

I FINALLY MADE IT!

The first 100 kilometres are complete, and that damn beach is behind me!

Day four was, rather annoyingly, the hardest day on trail so far. I was filled with trepidation as I left camp in the morning. 32 kilometres to Ahipara seemed impossible, and I wasn’t entirely convinced I’d get there. The previous day I’d had some suspicious twinges in my heel indicative of plantar fasciitis, and some more in my right hamstring/knee area… possibly an IT band injury?

I was consoled by the fact that at least I could camp halfway at Waipapakauri if necessary. 

Despite donating much of my spare food to other hikers and travellers the previous evening, I still had plenty left from Days One to Three, and only a day (or possibly two) left to travel until I collected my next resupply box. 

Trying to keep the weight down, I also again decided to carry just 1 litre of water with me today. We’d been reliably informed there was water further down the beach at Waipapakauri. 

With my doubts about whether I had the requisite fitness to reach Ahipara today, I resolved to make a very early exit from camp… even to be gone before the others! I was indeed the first to be ready, a marked difference to the two previous mornings when I was the last to pack up camp.

And so I set off, hoping to get at least a kilometre or so before being caught by one of the others. 

It was much less than that. 

Haley and Julia soon caught me, with John trailing slightly behind. Eager to keep to a slower pace again today, I willed myself to slow down, but it was inevitable. Soon we fell into a rhythm together. 

It wasn’t long before Haley began to stride out. Julia and I glanced at each other and shrugged. We had no idea how she could do it when we already felt like we were running down the beach. 

The kilometres dragged on and on. I didn’t look at the time or the map for a long, long while. Eventually, the pain in my legs and my feet forced a look. We’d come almost two hours and it was time for a pee break. 

I had often heard how people build very strong bonds when they embark on something like a thru hike. It was one of the things that had drawn me to the idea, although I had reservations that my social ineptitude and introversion would once again see me on the outside.

But when you have to stop to go to the toilet on the longest beach in the country, where the beach stretches off for literally hundreds of kilometres into the distance and not a hint of privacy or screening anywhere… you soon build strong bonds with your companions.

Julia and I ducked off towards the sand dunes, less than 20 metres apart, dropped trou and attended to our business, all the while maintaining a steady gaze towards the sea, avoiding the temptation to look sideways at the other. 

Ten minutes later we were off again, after quickly scoffing a snack or two and guzzling some water. By this point it was beginning to feel like a long hard slog. There were only six kilometres or so to Waipapakauri so we plodded on…

Eventually, we saw Haley up ahead veer off the beach and towards the dunes. Shortly behind her, John followed. Sure enough, there were cars and people emerging from a gap in the dunes which we assumed must mark the entrance to the small township. When we arrived at the top of the dunes, there were no obvious signs pointing us towards water or toilets. After a bit of lurking, we finally saw Haley beckoning to us from around a corner. 

The best spot she’d been able to find was a small grassy area by the toilets. She hadn’t had any luck so far in finding readily available water. She suggested perhaps the water in the sink in the toilet, but mentioned that it was running brown. It certainly wasn’t ideal.

For the moment, I wasn’t going anywhere. I found a tiny patch of shade underneath a small tree. This particular tree was obviously a toilet area for the neighbourhood dogs: the smell of ammonia was distinct. My feet ached and throbbed, and I flopped down onto the grass with my feet facing uphill uttering a small sigh of satisfaction. I was off my feet.

Once my body temperature had dropped I little, I went to sit with the others and have something to eat. We shared the last of my salami, cheese and crackers, and I hoped it would give me the energy I needed to push on to Ahipara. Without a decent supply of running water here it looked like I had no choice.

The search for cleaner water led me to suggest we try the holiday camp a little way up the road. Haley had already set off down the beach again, so John and Julia volunteered to refill our bottles whilst I looked after the bags. I didn’t argue. 

They returned a little while later. They’d had no luck at the holiday park, it appeared to be closed. So instead they decided to get some water from a house tap nearby. Unfortunately the owners weren’t home, but they hollered out a few times to make sure before filling the bottles.

With fresh water and fresh(ish) feet, John, Julia and I set off again. It was at this point that John asked if he could walk with us. He seemed to be finding things a bit tough going by himself, despite preferring to hike solo. 

He was well worth the entertainment, and the first hour or so went quickly. 

But then the pain really set in. 

Talking became a thing of the past. Every breath that came was directed towards some part of my legs or feet. We were close enough that we could see the houses of Ahipara by now, but they weren’t getting any closer. There were at least two more hours to walk. We plodded on, and on, and on. 

Eventually I told the others I had to stop. I just couldn’t go on anymore. 

Taking the opportunity for another toilet break, Julia and I ushered John on so we could make the most of our privacy. Completely frustrated, we each threw our trekking poles onto the sand and swore very loudly.

For the next ten minutes we each tried hard to psych ourselves up for the remainder of the journey, but it didn’t make any difference. We just had to get up and keep going.

There was little to do but to find a method of coping. I started picking landmarks to walk to. This dune, that tree, that abandoned house. Each time I reached one, I set my eyes on something further up the beach. But really the only landmark that was in my sights was the one still so far out of reach. 

I’d strapped my feet up once again this morning, so thankfully the pain in my heel wasn’t too bad. But my right leg was twinging so badly it threatened to collapse on me every ten paces or so. On top of that my feet were on fire, burning from the heat rash which had now spread up my calves. I began sobbing uncontrollably behind my sunglasses, hiding it as much as I could from Julia lest I break her morale too. 

Eventually, I saw John up ahead bend and sit down on the sand. Julia saw it too and we dared to hope for a second.

Soon it became obvious that he had stopped at the end point of the beach section. We couldn’t believe it! As we got closer, I saw the telltale signs of a stream. Somewhere to bathe my feet! As I came up to it and waded through I burst into tears. The relief from the cold water was heaven.

Julia and John obviously wanted to stop for a while, to mark the occasion of finally finishing the beach and the first hundred kilometres. It was still early enough in the day.

But I couldn’t focus on the milestone. I just wanted to be off the beach. I did the obligatory dipping of my feet in the ocean, but soon after donned my sandals and headed off towards Ahipara township and the promise of somewhere to put my feet up. 

Of course they don’t tell you it’s another two kilometres to the dairy. 

I was walking so slowly that John and Julia had almost caught me by the time I arrived. I was thirsty, hot and hungry. We plonked ourselves on a table outside the takeaway shop and ate a hearty meal of fish, chips and burgers. It was only as we ate that we realised we needed to find somewhere to stay.

After seeing that we were now a good few kilometres from the Ahipara holiday park (which was in the opposite direction back the way we had come), we debated whether or not to stay or hitch a ride to Kaitaia.

Julia got on the phone to a trail angel (his name escapes me now!) who runs a shuttle service for TA hikers between Ahipara and Kaitaia to avoid the dangerous walk along Kaitaia-Araroa Road. Unfortunately, he was unavailable to transport us this evening. The decision was made.

Checking Booking.com for alternatives, we found Endless Summer, a backpacker hostel that we liked the look of. The owner, Blaine, hearing the despair in our voices, agreed to come and pick us up. 

He drove us out along the coast road a little way to a converted historical homestead on the beachfront. As I collected my pack from the back of the car, I felt something fluffy on my legs. A beautiful four year old border collie bitch named Marley had come out to greet us!

My eyes started leaking. I knew everything would be okay from then on.

The bunk rooms were beautiful, and Julia, John and I managed to get into one room with four bunks together. By this time it certainly felt like we had made a nice bond between the three of us, and we had laid down the initial foundations of our trail family. 

I took the opportunity to once again make a call home to confirm my achievement and my upcoming plans. I couldn’t believe how far I had come, but I was overcome with a sense that there was still so far left to go. 

After a much needed shower (where I had to run the shower almost cold due to the burning sensation of the rash on my legs) we went out to the front of the property to laze in three hammocks looking out towards the ocean. From our vantage point, we could see all the way back up Ninety Mile Beach… at least as far as the sea spray haze would allow. 

Not wishing to move, I gazed up at the clear sky above, watching the silhouette of a crescent moon get slowly brighter. It was perfection.

Eventually, we couldn’t keep our eyes open anymore, and retired to bed… where, for the first time in a week, I slept like a baby.

prefer to watch?

Watch the full video from this section of Te Araroa below.