Turakina Beach is very much black sand and white logs, which it quite picturesque in a slightly desolate kind of way. The say was a flat calm, with only the occasional wave breaking with white water across an intermittent shallow sand bar just offshore. At one point I saw a smallish fish jump and skim a few metres across the water.
I pretty much had the beach to myself, except for two fisherman long lining from winch-controlled lines attached to quadbikes and who busied themselves with seeking out shellfish in the sand while they waited, and one old guy who road up on a quadbike to stop and say hello, and then went about collecting trash from the beach--explains why the beach was in general so rubbish-free.
Despite being overcast it was still very hot, especially in one little stretch where a talk dune on one side blocked the breeze as the sun was peeking through the clearing clouds and the heat was being radiated back up by the sand. I pushed on through this and sat on a log to have a break, and watched two pilots in airforce aircraft (no idea what kind sorry, but nothing so sleek as a spit nor so lumbering as a Lancaster) doing figure eights and loop-de-loops, one inland from me and one some way south. Ohakia airbase is around here somewhere...
After 8km I spotted a cutting in the dunes that proved to be the track leading out to the forestry road which TA follows out through mature pine trees to Santoft Rd and then carries on for 5km through harvested pine plantation. The runway must be somewhere south of here because as I walked something like a Hercules took off and turned overhead to fly off to the north. There's no shade along here and I resolved to stop at the first shady spot I came to along the road at the other end to rest, cool down and have lunch. I stopped for a good hour when I did, eating but mainly resting my poor feet. They were okay on the beach but they're really not coping too well on all this flat, hard ground.
Walking out along Brandon Hall Rd my breaks got more frequent. The last 5km was very hard and I finally hobbled into Bulls--after 5:30 so all the shops were shut and I couldn't get the smoothie I'd been craving all day (I'd even rung the visitors centre to see if there was anywhere that might sell me one).
To late for cafés I hobbled through town to the campground. I'd phoned ahead and spoken to a cheerful woman who assured me there was loads of tent space left. The man who met me at reception wasn't quite so friendly and instead looked me up and down with an expression that said "well you're not going to pay for our nicest cabin". Still he dutifully showed me the facilities and later redeemed himself by surprisingly more cheerfully offering me the two bottles of water left in the kitchen fridge. I offered one to a fellow TA hiker named Tom who had shown up as I emerged from the shower block (incidentally the showers are great--hot and good pressure--as long as you don't mind sharing the cubicle with at least four daddy-long-legs).
I'm stoked to meet Tom. Having had such a long break from walking I feared I would have been left behind by all the other hikers and have been worried that I might not meet any more. Turns out Tom, a Kiwi from Auckland, stayed at Koitiata campground last night and followed my footprints all the way along the beach--apparently the fishermen told him there was another hiker ahead if him, a girl who was "kicking your ass!".
I also found out that Rotten Orange, our poor ill-fated canoe is STILL in the Whanganui River! Tom paddled past it only a week ago, and fell about laughing now when he found out I was one of the pair that put it there. He was impressed that anyone could do that to a canoe at that point in the river, saying that it couldn't have been more expertly done if we'd planned it. Oh dear. There's a chance Taylor and I are going to be notorious...
Tom and I chatted for an hour or so, relieving our favourite moments from the trail so far. I had scroggin for dinner (am not planning to resupply until Palmerston North) and then fended off cattle in the neighbouring paddock who had become a little to interested in the clothes I'd hung out to air/dry on a string between the fence and my tent. Erring on the side of caution I reclaimed my clothes to air in a pike on top of my pack before going to bed.
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