Te Araroa Trail Blog Day 3: Maunganui Bluff to Utea Park

**I lost many of my photos from the section up to Auckland. As a result, I have very few left to post. I have tried to put as many here to help you visualise the journey.**

I had such a good sleep and I was raring to go in the morning.

It was still taking me a little while to pack up camp each morning, but today I managed to force down some breakfast (porridge) before finally packing up and setting off. My tent was a little damp from condensation (it had been the same yesterday) and there were some puddles inside that I had to mop up. Otherwise, I had been warm and cozy enough.

I was experiencing a little twinging in my left foot, underneath the heel. I decided to tape my feet up, thinking it may be the onset of plantar fasciitis. The Altra Lone Peak trail runners I had picked as my footwear of choice were great so far, but not being used to the zero drop my feet were struggling on the hard compacted sand.

The results of my first attempt at taping my feet – at Maunganui Bluff campsite before setting out for the day.  

I did the best I could with the tape and knowledge I had, choosing to strap up and under the arch to give a little more support, and then from the arch up and round the heel to my achilles.

Once again, almost everyone had left camp before myself and Julia this morning. John hadn’t quite yet formed a solid bond with us, so was up and hovering a little while before we were ready to go. Eventually he set out with us.

It was the final day on this section of the trail for the other two girls that we had shared camp with the last two nights (funnily enough also called Michelle and Jule) so we would not likely see them again.

We donned our packs, grabbed our trekking poles and hiked off towards the beach leaving Marcus as the sole remaining occupant at camp. It was just after 7.15am. 

The day began and carried on much as it had for the previous two. Today we experimented with logistics: firstly for our water, and secondly for our pace.

Yesterday we’d carried 2 litres of water from camp, but we had noticed a couple of places we could have filled up along the way. Today, we decided to only carry 1 litre of water. Although I didn’t check the map, Julia said it looked like there were a couple of places we could fill up today. I decided to heed her word and take the risk.

Also, yesterday I think I had walked a bit faster than I should have. I noticed I was aching and hurting in a couple of places, and I think this was because I was trying to keep pace with Julia. With her much longer legs, this was some task. Instead, today I was determined to keep to my own pace and (thankfully), Julia was happy to oblige.

We had a total of 30 kilometres to hike today, through to Utea Park. The first few kilometres flew by and before I knew it we’d already hiked 9km! I was so happy and invigorated I decided to leave a note in the sand for Marcus behind us.

The first sand-message I left for Marcus, still a little way behind us.  

Marcus is a kiwi bloke from Kerikeri. Over the past few days I had been listening to his stories, and was surprised that he had decided to start the trail with no real prior thought or preparation. As a result, he was carrying all the wrong kind of gear. He had a cheap tent from Hunting and Fishing which was heavy and bulk, a heavy sleeping bag, a full sized towel and some fishing rods (to name a few). In the back of my mind, I wondered how far he would get. He said he wanted to at least get to Kerikeri but I thought that was unlikely.

His determination seemed strong, though, so from then on I left little notes at each substantial milestone for him (not least of which because it was also fun for me)!

A little further up the beach, we reached the 50 kilometre milestone. It was the furthest I had ever walked continuously. Excited by this I convinced Julia to stop for a photo.

Julia and I couldn’t help but mark halfway on Ninety Mile Beach with a personal twist!  

I intended to mark off all the major milestones along the way: Not just these early ones, but later on each 100 kilometre milestone.

When we reached the day’s halfway point we marked that off too.

Woohoo! Halfway for the day!  

It was mainly the milestones that kept us going. Again, hiking along a beach for a hundred kilometres doesn’t offer much in the way of scenery, especially when it’s one of the remotest and wildest beaches in the country. We saw a variety of different creatures washed up on the sand again, including a dead puffer fish. Mainly, though, the bulk of the sealife was washed up bluebottles.

The remains of a puffer fish, washed up on Ninety Mile Beach.  

Unlike the last two days, there was a bit of cloud cover today which gave us some much appreciated respite from the sun. I made sure to keep reminding Julia to put sunscreen on and cover her skin. Even on these cloudy days, the UV can burn severely, and it often comes as a nasty surprise to those who aren’t used to it. Having noticed early on in my preparation that extreme sunburn was one of the casualties of this leg of the trail, I made it a mission to discuss it with as many international hikers as I could. 

One of the very few selfies taken on Ninety Mile Beach.  

The final 10 kilometre stretch was the worst.

My feet and legs had resumed their dull ache and I was having some issues with my right knee. Along with the twinges in my left foot (which had returned) there was a dull pain in the side of my right knee which made itself known each time I took a step. The monotony of the terrain, so flat and slightly cambered, was playing havoc with my body. 

The camber on Ninety Mile Beach’s 100 kilometre length is particularly evident in this shot.  

My toes seemed to be getting off lightly, though. No blisters… yet.

The rest of the hike down the beach was interspersed mainly with cars, trucks and Utes that whizzed past us on a regular basis. On one occasion, we heard the distinct rumble of a car gaining on us from behind. As it whizzed past, who should lean out the window but Marcus! It looked like he  had decided to take the easy way out. We never saw him again.

After what seemed like an age, I spotted the twin green flags of Utea Park. I couldn’t believe it! We’d almost hiked our longest day to date!

The flags were a very welcome sight. It would still take us nearly an hour to get to the driveway off the beach, but at least we could actually see the end now.

Can you spot the green flags of Utea Park?  

As with yesterday, walking back over the soft sand dunes to the cabins was the hardest part of the day. I was happy to collapse in a ratty sofa in the shared kitchen when we eventually arrived. Two days ago, I’d avoided this particular seat, thinking it looked like it had all sorts of things living inside it. Now it felt akin to what I assume sitting on a cloud feels like.

Even though it was only mid afternoon when Julia and I made it to Utea Park, both John and Haley had arrived much earlier and were now napping. In fact, I was initially surprised that Haley hadn’t pushed on given the early hour, but the look of utter exhaustion in both their faces spoke volumes. I pulled up another chair in front of me and put my feet up on it, not moving for most of the rest of the afternoon.

When I took my shoes and socks off, I was shocked to discover my feet and the bottom of my legs had developed a very red tinge. It wasn’t painful, per se, but it was tender to the touch and had a slight burning sensation to it.

The results of hiking two days at ~30km per day – painful heat rash!  

Pauli came by soon after we arrived to congratulate us for making it this far. When we could each eventually move, we took turns savouring the hot showers. Once finished, Pauli showed the others to their accommodation for the evening: three little beds sited in the back of his Kanuka tea tree oil still shed out back. Although they had originally planned to pitch their tents, Pauli put paid to that when he told them there was a rainstorm due.

Part of the accommodation-transport package that Utea Park offers TA hikers is a second night of accommodation on the way back down the beach. Although this second night was supposed to be spent in one of the cabins I’d stayed in on the first night, unfortunately someone else had booked the other cabin tonight. Instead, I was offered a bed in the main house.

The first thing I noticed was how strange it was to be separated from the others. Pauli escorted me to the house, around back of the main campsite area and up a small sandy driveway to an elevated position. We entered next to the garage at the back of the house. The main area of the house was largely empty, except for six or seven queen size beds scattered around the main living area which faced out towards the crashing waves of Ninety Mile Beach beyond. 

Tanya and Pauli were staying in another part of the house, underneath the level I was on, but on the other side of the house. Aside from them, I was the only other occupant, which sent a slight shiver down my spine.

My caution has to be taken in context. For a young(ish) single woman, who’d never really travelled by herself before, let alone embarked on a solo adventure down the length of a country, being left entirely alone in a house with two complete strangers whom I still couldn’t quite put a finger on was an uneasy prospect. To my untrained eye, this was the closest I’d come to a hippie convent. Pauli was open about hiring young travellers to help him around the place throughout the year, and regaled me with stories of how they would often sit around the campfire playing music, telling stories and passing around joints.

Although I don’t remember the details exactly, the one that stuck with me was his apparent appreciation of a young girl or two. I was left with the impression that his and Tanya’s relationship was an open one, if that. I could see how it would be easy to get sucked into his charm. He had a passion for both life and storytelling that was immediately apparent even to those without much social awareness (like me). He simply exuded the sense of peace and freedom I’d been searching for.

After settling in at the house (as best I could) I made my way back down to the camp area where John, Haley, Julia and I set to making dinner. We chatted and debriefed, making plans for the upcoming day. 

It was around this time that I informed Haley of the trail name I’d given her (‘Wonder Woman’) and in return received a (tentative) trail name from her. She called me ‘Gram’, because I’m always counting them. 

Thankfully, the name never stuck. Trail names are not prevalent on New Zealand (or other worldwide trails) to the extent they are in the USA.

We watched as other travellers arrived and went about their chores. Pauli had a policy of making his existing guests welcome the new ones, and unfortunately I drew the short straw on this occassion. The awkwardness was finally ended when I eventually revealed that Pauli was the owner of this establishment… not me!

By this point, I knew I’d brought far too much food with me. In the spare food bag I’d left at Utea Park three days ago, there was still a whole salami stick and 500g block of cheese. I hadn’t even made it halfway through the pairs I’d carried with me so far. They were donated to some grateful travellers, probably with more gratitude on my part.

The remaining bag of grated cheese I had carried with me was opened up and passed around, each of us grabbing handfuls and shoving it in our mouths like chips. There was no way I was carrying it with me tomorrow.

Finally, it was time for bed. I headed off to the main house and telephoned Mum. By the end of it I was in tears again, but it was nice to hear a familiar voice after three days of no contact.

I told her my tentative plan for the next few days. Already the prospect of hiking another 32 kilometres tomorrow to Ahipara was daunting. This was the itinerary the others wanted to follow, and I thought there was a good chance I wouldn’t make it and would have to camp half way in Waipapakauri. The general aches and pains in my body were far more pronounced today than they had been yesterday. I seriously doubted I could make it. Regardless, once I reached Ahipara I knew I would not be pushing into the forest section. Having had some basic experience of true New Zealand ‘tramping’ I knew exactly what that 5-6 day effort would take, and I wasn’t confident that my body would stand up to it right now.

Pushing an anxious mind into a hard physical environment seemed like a recipe for disaster. I was still getting used to my new normal. Best not push it.

Before finally settling down to sleep I packed most of my gear into my pack ready for the morning. After attempting a crossword puzzle (I’d brought a few with me) I settled down to sleep, ready for (hopefully) the final 32 kilometres of Ninety Mile Beach up ahead.

prefer to watch?

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

https://youtu.be/UrjIT8-oxeE