After breakfast I pinched (with encouragement) some more oranges from the tree before Ron dropped me back where he picked me up on Saturday. I set off, into the drizzle, which was sufficient to warrant getting out the pack cover but not donning raincoat (it's the trade off between wet and sweat...and it wasn't cold).
The trail went through a farm initially before a short road walk ended up on an old forestry track heading up a ridge toward Moirs Hill. By the time I was on the uphill the sun had come out. Climbing up the back of the ridge on an old track, boxed in by cutty grass on all sides, in full sun with no wind was horrendous. The track wasn't steep but with the heat on top if recent rain the humidity must have been 99.9%, without a reprieve from even the slightest current of fresh air until near the very top. I was sweating like I have never sweated before; it was running down the back of my ears, trickling into my eyes and drop of my nose, chin and fingers. I thick I had tangible sweat rivulets running down my arms! Not pleasant!
About halfway up I encountered a jogger coming down. He just said hi at first but stopped and called out to me (turning off his audio-book to do so. He had an english accent, like do many of the prod I've encountered!). He knew all about Te Araroa and recommend I take a short there and back diversion off the trail to get a nice view over the valley from a point where the land just drops away below you...and consequently is a favourite launching spot for paragliders. Come to think of it I'd seen a paraglider flying high round here on Saturday... I thanked him very much and decided choose whether or not to take a look when I got to the junction with the trail.
The junction was just before the radio tower on top of Moirs Hill. The side trail headed off into native bush and from the map appeared to travel approximately 1km along a ridge before coming to a dead end at a semi-cliff. 'What the hell' I thought, 'at least there's fresh air up here!'. I had stopped sweating buckets and was much more comfortable, plus I had plenty of time, so off I went.
Not far in he trail started going suspiciously downhill but it soon levelled off before starting to feel more ridge like. Before ever I got to a view point I came to a fence with an old and rusty "private property, keep out" sign. There was also an old stile leading over the fence and. A well worn track through the grass beyond. I'd come all this way and figuring I'd blame the jogger if I encountered a less than happy farmer I left my pack and just took my camera over the fence and along the final part of the ridge. Finally the gorse and other bushes parted and there was a the view...nice, but not overly impressive poor light of the once again overcast day. I could see a few farm houses near at hand in the valley below and was aware that they would be able to see me, which made me nervous given I wasn't 100% sure I was allowed to be there. Feeling a little like Aragorn on Weathertop I took a couple of quick photos and then headed back down. I heard a vehicle start up and drive off in a rush in the valley as I went and gf wondered if it was the farmer rushing to intercept me back on the trail to give me a bollicking.
Back burdened with pack I followed the track back to the forestry/radio tower access road Te Araroa follows over Moirs Hill. There was no irate farmers in sight so I went on past the tower and down the other side. A short road walk near the top soon branches off onto an old quad bike track that leads more or less straight down the hill. The track is exposed clay in places and was a bit slippery. From the markings the one or two horses which had been the last heavy-footed things to traverse the route had also slipped and skidded on occasion.
The track emerges at a T-intersection of two broad gravel roads. Boulders had be placed at the track entrance to prevent people taking vehicles up it and they provided a handy spot to sit and have lunch. The intersection proved surprisingly busy with traffic, and I soon found out why.
Following the trail down the stalk of the T it soon passed by several lifestyle blocks, some just paddocks and some with very desirable homes. The road goes on through a recent well-to-do subdivision before the trail diverts onto a walking tracking over the crest of a hill and through Dunns Bush, a patch of preserved native bush nestled in the surrounding farmland. It's a lovely walk through mixed broadleaf forest with lots of Nikau and rimu etc. The track emerges from the trees at the top of a farm and the TA follows the fenceline down and around to Remiger Rd. Just beyond the last fence beside a corner of ther road was a grassy patch full of tall white daisy-like flowers. I stopped and had a boots-off snack break, not at all phased by the guy doing done thing with his ute in the yard across the way, who seemed content to ignore me.
Moving on again, the trail follows Remiger Rd a short distance before crossing the Puhoi River via a sturdy swing bridge. From here on is known as the Puhoi Track which follows a narrow strip of bush along the side if a ridge, flanked be pine forest on the top side and farmland in the valley below. The track is well maintained and passes one or two lovely big kauri trees amongst other nice bush.
At the end if the track you follow a mown swathe down through farmland, then some rough steps through trees before stepping out behind the public toilets in the town of Puhoi. A bunch of hippyish tourists were sitting on the grass beside their van-come-camper and responded to my cheerful "Hi" in heavily accented "Hi"s of their own.
I was a bit early so I headed over the bridge boy they town proper. There's a cafe right there, and a short distance up the road is the pub. Ron had said the pub was something to see so I headed on up there. Several of the outdoor tables were filled with people...most looked like aging biker types or others who were similarly a little rough round the edges. The pub itself is fascinating. You could stand I it all day and still not take in all the different bank notes, photographs, oz horns and all manner of other paraphernalia that covers every inch of the walls.
Only one patron was seated at the bar in the pub itself--the most aging biker-like of the lot. The barman and barmaid were talking to a guy and it sounded work-related so I waited until they were free before ordering a ginger beer. I took it outside and sat at a table, removed from the others but close enough to engage in conversation. A black dog was doing the rounds, checking people out and bumming an ear scratch here and there. A man behind me called out to it every now and then if it wandered to far so I asked him it's name. "Jet" was the answer. There was no other enquiries made. The guy was not unfriendly but I got the distinct impression that all of the locals had seen and spoken to plenty of hikers before. They'd asked and been asked it all before and I alone wasn't sufficient to arouse their interest.
As I moved on to a cider a few other patrons showed up: a pair of guys who could have been foreign hikers but were missing the requisite backpacks, and a well dressed family including a women in heels, which seemed out of place ins place like this. The conversation at a table over my shoulder carried in the quiet setting and from what I could gather many of the contributors had worked on fishing boats in the area. I grew envious as they began swapping stories of encounters they'd had with killer whales...but never got up the guts to enquire further. I have a kayak keg to the coast and then a coast walk for much if tomorrow...Crikey it would be something if I saw a killer whale!
Presently Ron arrived. I'd only just started my cider so I shouted him one as well and we chatted for a while before heading home. He'd put on a roast for dinner--my favourite! Gosh I've been spoiled these past few days! I tried to repay some of Ron and Betty's generosity by doing the dishes and making the tea; a small and insufficient token of my gratitude!
As I said, kayak leg tomorrow! Ironically enough my rest day means I'll have perfect timing with the required high but receding tide. I tried to call Paula to see if she's keen but there was no answer. Oh well, there's plenty of other sections of track to do!
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