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Despite a fitful night’s sleep (brought on by the army of possums and an over-inflated sleeping pad) in the morning I felt relatively lively. Awaking at roughly 6am, Julia and I had decided to head out today as early as we could.
A 28km trek through to the Maunganui Bluff campsite and the first day of hiking on Ninety Mile Beach followed today. I hoped an early start would mean being able to tick off the first 10km in much cooler temperatures.
Despite my goal, however, it took me an hour and a half to break camp such that I was finally ready to leave closer to 7.30AM than 7AM. We left Haley behind us at camp, she preferring a more leisurely start to the day.
Twilight Beach from Scott’s Point – Ninety Mile Beach – Te Paki.
Looking back towards Twilight Beach from Scott’s Point hill. You can just about make out the rotunda at the Twilight Beach microcamp in the middle foreground.[/caption]
Our first hour involved hiking up Scott’s Point. A gentle climb up a mainly sand four wheel drive track led to a short section through an overshadowed bush track, and then finally out to the summit of Scott’s Point, Pukekarea. It was a beautiful first hour, but the hills played havoc with my already sore legs from yesterday’s effort.
At the summit, we were treated to spectacular views of both Twilight Beach behind us and Ninety Mile Beach ahead, where we’d spend the next three days until we reached Ahipara.
Taking our first glimpse at Ninety Mile Beach from the Scott’s Point summit.
As we began our descent to Ninety Mile Beach, we had to tackle a steep staircase which was quite slow going. I held on with at least one, but usually two hands, and took slow steps so as not to miss one.
Heading down off Scott’s Point towards the stretch of the beach out in front of us.
Pay Attention: Steep staircase down to the beach. You can just make out Julia in the distance.
At the bottom, we saw signs of human life, the trickle of smoke from a dying campfire and a parked up four wheel drive. To our surprise, we found the two germans from the day before just finishing packing up their gear. The four wheel drive occupants had been their companions overnight, and they’d received a wonderful seafood feed from them as they sat around the campfire.
We said our goodbyes and set our feet to the first sand of Ninety Mile Beach. For me, it was a surreal feeling, to finally be taking those first steps on this beach that I’d been anticipating for some months. 23 kilometres down the trail we’d be setting up camp for the night at Maunganui Bluff. And we could barely see half that distance ahead of us.
Julia hikes off towards Maunganui Bluff in the distance along Ninety Mile Beach.
The beach simply went on, and on, and on. I’d find myself picking a marker point up ahead and walking to it. Then I’d pick the next one. When I got sick of picking physical markers, I’d walk instead to a time rhythm… one hour or two, then take a short break.
Julia was great at sticking to a regimented schedule, and we spent most of these hours chatting and getting to know one another (when she wasn’t listening to her audio book, and I wasn’t filming videos).
About an hour later, we arrived at Te Paki Stream. This stream is approximately 5 kilometres from the Twilight Beach campsite and is the first guaranteed water spot on Ninety Mile Beach, so Julia and I had decided to stop for a cuppa and a snack. I also took the opportunity to rinse some of the stream’s cool water over my exposed skin to cool down.
Relaxing at the Te Paki Stream, one of a very few reliable water sources on Ninety Mile Beach.
Before long, we spied Haley steaming past us on the beach. Rather than stopping to say another quick hello, she kept pushing on. As I watched her walk, I couldn’t help but think how much more experience she seemed, pushing on into the heart of Ninety Mile Beach completely solo and poised. In my head I named her Wonder Woman, and wondered if my own endeavours would match in comparison further down the trail.
There isn’t much to say about hiking along a beach for over a hundred kilometres. Outside of the dead wildlife (especially jellyfish and the occasional seal) there isn’t much in the way of interesting scenery. Today’s hike took us past the outskirts of the Great Sand Dunes, world famous in New Zealand with tourists who bodyboard down them for fun.
The tourists are usually shuttled to this remote region by tour buses. The buses drive right along the beach, which may seem strange but Ninety Mile Beach is actually a recognised State Highway (as are many beaches in New Zealand). In fact, I wasn’t expecting to see quite so many vehicles as we did during our three day odyssey towards the end of the beach, with four wheel drives, buses and trucks (or ‘Utes’ as we call them in New Zealand) being the most prominent.
When I was a child, I remember taking exactly one of these tour buses with my extended family, and boarding down the dunes. As I gazed over towards them I could almost see my much younger self racing down them in fits of laughter.
My Nanna and I also had a scary experience on this exact beach, too. Having stopped to collect some pipis (a small New Zealand shellfish) from the shallower waters of the Tasman Sea, we barely escaped being knocked over by a large rogue wave which saw many of the other people on our tour running for the safety of the beach.
For the first time, I felt a palpable connection to the land I was walking on, through a little bit of the history I had with it.
A four wheel drive zips along past us on the state highway that is Ninety Mile Beach.
Up at this end of the beach, there was tour bus after tour bus. They would come screaming past, first from in front, then from behind. I could imagine the commentary running in the bus. “And if you look out the left window now, you’ll see two Te Araroa hikers. The Te Araroa trail is a 3,000 kilometre walking trail which ends in Bluff, and begins all the way up here at Cape Reinga….”
At one point along the beach we approached a tour bus that had stopped (just as ours had in my childhood). As we got closer, a couple of the tourists asked us what we were doing. We watched their jaws drop as we explained.
Past the sand dunes, the beach turned into one long monotonous stretch. A bank of sand prevailed to our left, beyond which I knew lay a large tract of forest. The dunes in between are heavily protected, so we didn’t veer off to explore.
I spent much of the middle hours of the day peering through the sea spray into the distance, searching for any sign of a jutting promontory of land which could possibly be the Bluff.
In fact, this landmark didn’t appear until only a few hours before we actually reached it. We’d been following the tiny figures of two hikers up ahead in the distance. One of them was Haley, who disappeared quickly. The other, we couldn’t identify.
It was approaching 4PM by the time we arrived at Maunganui Bluff. My feet were starting to hurt pretty badly (although it appeared I didn’t have any blisters yet, thankfully) and I was well and truly exhausted from carrying the weight of my pack in such an exposed environment.
To my horror, though, the entrance to the campsite was actually on the other side of the Bluff, and I had to navigate around another small outcrop of rocks which (at this time of day) came just down to the tide mark.
Thinking it would be faster than picking my way over the rocks (as Julia was doing) I saw my opportunity with a break in the waves, and walked as fast as I can around the edge of them. I thought I had almost made it… but right at the last minute a big wave came in and fully submerged my shoes.
I was more than disappointed. Apart from anything else, the salt in the sea water was now at risk of aggravating my feet for the last half a kilometre or so to camp.
By the time we reached the entrance to the campsite, I was well and truly ready to be done for the day. There was a small sandy incline to get up and over the dunes to the campsite, and I found could barely walk up it. dropped my pack in the bare vicinity of where I wanted to set it up later, found myself a shady spot under a tree…. and cried.
And cried and cried and cried.
Eventually the tears stopped and I came to the stark realisation that I’d have to keep going tomorrow. There was no choice. But I had no idea how I’d do the same distance again, plus another 2km.
Julia eventually came to join me, and I brushed away the tears. I didn’t want to show any weakness just yet. The heat was getting to her too, but she seemed in a much better place, mentally.
Aside from Haley, when we arrived there were two other girls who had already set up camp, and Marcus had also arrived before us. It had been his figure we’d seen following Haley up the beach earlier today.
The two girls were doing their version of Te Araroa, hiking around New Zealand for the next few months. They were starting with the Te Paki Coastal Track and a short section of Te Araroa, and were planning to go back to the main road tomorrow.
About an hour after Julia and I arrived, Haley left. She’d taken a small break to rest and recuperate, and had decided to spend her second night on Ninety Mile Beach stealth camping somewhere a little further along.
The thing with camping along Ninety Mile Beach is that there are designated for doing so. I assume there are plenty of reasons for this, one (the main one) being erosion and environmental protection and the other being the lack of water. Therefore the Te Araroa Trust highly discourages stealth camping on this section of the trail (or any section, to be honest).
I could have said something to her, but in these situations I often find people will choose to do what they want regardless. I’m sure she knew the rules and was choosing to do so anyway. I was just happy to see the majority of the other hikers adhering to the stealth camping restrictions, particularly in this region.
A little later on Julia and I decided to start making our dinner in the covered area under the shelter. I heated up some water and simmered dehydrated mushroom risotto over a flame before trying to force it down my neck.
I was feeling incredibly anxious. My entire body was throbbing and exhausted from the effort of the day, and all I could think was that tomorrow the distance would be longer. And so would the day after.
There’s no easy or gentle start to Te Araroa. Due to the nature of the beach section down Ninety Mile Beach and the camping restrictions, thru hikers are forced to pull three massive days straight out of the gate.
I was still in the throes of a mini-panic attack when another American hiker named John turned up. I left most of the chatting to Julia whilst I battled my internal demons.
As we ate, Marcus came to join us. Clad only in a T-Shirt and towel, he sat down outside the shelter and gladly informed us that he’d just had a shower. A shower!
I couldn’t believe it! It turned out the concrete block next to the shelter, which I knew probably housed the long drop toilets, also housed a cold shower! I’d rinsed myself off under the drinking water tap a little earlier, so was no longer in need of a freshen up, but it was his next comment that caught me off guard.
“And, a flushing toilet!”
I pretty much skipped off to the toilet right then and there. And sure enough, he was right.
I have a pathological fear of using long drop toilets. It’s something I take back to my first ever planned hiking trip on the Pouakai Circuit on Mt Taranaki back in 2017. An almost packed-full toilet at this hut didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and it being one of the first I’d used, I had failed to avert my eyes. Ever since, I’d lived in fear of what was lying just a few metres below my exposed backside, and especially the scary toilet demons that might reach up to pull me in.
So I was thrilled at the sight of a cistern and proper plumbing at this particular facility. Well and truly worth the $10 per night camping fee.
A little later on that evening we once again watched the sunset over the Tasman Sea from the beac. I felt calmer but still apprehensive about what to expect.
The anxiety was still running high, so when I eventually got into my sleeping bag that evening I popped a sedative. It turned out to be the best thing for me. With my sleeping pad and pillow at the optimum inflation, and heavy eyelids from the tablets, I put my head down for one of the best nights’ sleep I experienced on the trail.
prefer to watch?
Watch the full video from this section of Te Araroa below.
https://youtu.be/UrjIT8-oxeE