Day 22: Ocean Beach to Mcleods Bay (16km; 399km total)

Best sleep in the tent yet! Must have had something to do with the springy grass, soft ground, or something but I think I only woke up once all night--unheard of!

Despite my initial misgivings I've decided this is a happy little campsite. I didn't see the friendly chicks again today but the calves came over to investigate as soon as I started making breakfast. First the black calf--the odd one out amongst his orange and white paddock mates--came to the fence to watch silently as I stirred my porridge. Noticing this the noisy calf from yesterday (distinguishable by his patterning, which made him rather an ugly duckling amongst the others, at least to my mind...) began mooing and immediately came over, closely followed by the other calves. They lost interest as I began packing up and wandered off to begin a hard day of munching grass.

I in turn prepared for my own hard day ahead: tackling Bream Head. I'd risen early and dawdled a bit to try and give the sun a chance to dry the condensation that had accumulated on the underside of my tent fly. My plan was foiled however as it turns out the track of the sun as it rose almost exactly followed the curve of the hill behind the carpark meaning it was only dappled sunshine that ever made it through the forested hillside to suing on my damp tent. Keen to get underway I split struck and then went off in search of water.

I had hoped there would be a water fountain but no. Then I went to investigate the surf club. While they had an rusty outdoor shower affixed to one wall of their boat house, there was no sign of a tap anywhere. Not sure where else to try I turned in the shower and a trickle of water came out of the shower head. It was fresh enough so I filled up 3L and dropped in three treatment tablets. Saddling up I dropped back down to the beach before beginning the big ascent.

The first part of the track climbs steeply through lush grass on the lower slopes of the headland. A crude wash station consisting of crate, scrubbing brush and spray bottle is placed next to a notice board, asking trampers to disinfect their boots to help prevent the spread of kauri dieback disease (the first of many such stations I would encounter on this trip).

Onward and upward, into forest that is apparently the most diverse native broad leaf forest in Northland. It certainly is a lovely array of different trees, and home to an assortment of birds including tui , fantail, native pigeon, varioussnall parrots, and the elusive kiwi. An extensive trapping campaign means the forest is almost possum-free (and presumably other pests as well), but I did notice  a handful of European wasps during my walk. I know these cause problems in the beech forests down south, but I don't know about here.

Not far into the tree line you pass the ruins of a WWII radar station and a short loop track provides a stunning view out over the glittering ocean and miscellaneous islands (complete with a bench seat dedicated to the DOC archeologist who presumably worked on the ruins). Back on the main track a shaft if sunlight lit up a small concrete bunker-type thing that is now covered in miss and has ferns growing out of the top. While it was probably part of a hideous concrete edifice in its day, just then and there it looked nostalgic and beautiful.

Onward and upward...and upward...and upward. The track gets steeper nearer the summit, with only a few false tops to give your lungs and legs a rest. A lot of the track has been upgraded with stairs, but there's still a fair bit of root walking and the odd rock scramble. I had to take several short breaks.

Finally, utterly exhausted I reached the top of the main track and walked the short distance to the lookout. The shirt track along a narrow ridge emerges at the base of a giant rock standing upright and tall on top of the peak, beneath which the ground just falls away in a forested slope some 400m down the the seashore below. From the base you gave wonderful views north and south. I sat there trying to take it in but feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the height and my proximity to the edge. It rounder have been so bad if I hadn't of been so tired but as it was I took a few pictures and then returned to the relative comfort of the ridge line track. I passed a pair of day walkers, recommending that they take the short diversion to the lookout. I found out when they passed me later that it is actually possible to climb up to the too if the summit rock to get a full 360 degree view...but I don't think I'd have made it up there, tired or not.

Moving on along the ridge it was quite a steep, knee-jarring decent to a saddle, where the track unexpectedly emerges onto a well formed gravel footpath coming up from a carpark at the bottom if the saddle. The footpath continues until it turns off down toward Dove Cove, but Te Araroa follows a tramping track as it climbs back up and over the top of Mount Lion. There are several minor ridge tops on the way up, one with a handy seat-sized rock where I decided to have lunch.

I passed two more sets of day walkers during the day. One group, which I guess was a father, daughter and young granddaughter trio, we're intrigued to learn the route was part of Te Araroa as they had plans to walk the Cape Reinga to Whangarei Heads section later this summer. Another pair, strode past me while I was having lunch, heading back the way I had come. They must have come up from the Smuggler's Cove end of the track for which I was bound...rumoured to be a prolonged steep section of track composed almost entirely of stairs.

The rumours are true, though no doubt stairs are a vast improvement on whatever kind of dirt path/mudslide was there previously. After climbing up over successive shoulders of ridge you unceremoniously arrive at the narrow tree-clad summit of Mt Lion before immediately beginning the comparatively short descent back down to sea level. And there are LOTS if stairs. Nice to have such well defined, easy to traverse trail, but the successive jarring on my knees on the way down (compounded by the fatigue of the climb) meant I strode out of the trees and into the reserve-come-cattle-paddock at the bottom, legs shaking. There's a small rickety wooden bench at a crossroads between different walking tracks where I sat and let my jelly legs dangle for a bit while scarfing down some over-concentrated black currant cordial. The dangling feet wasn't helping the situation so I found a patch of manure-free grass over two low rises and lay down with head on one rise and legs elevated on another. That helped a lot so I lay in the sunshine for a bit, letting my brain and body readjust to being back on relatively level ground again.

Legs no longer shaking I packed up ready to walk around the bays. Two women came along as I was nearly ready to go and stopped to chat. Their nanes were Olivia and Rachel, and Olivia very kindly offered to put me up in her house in Urqharts Bay if I needed a place to sleep that night. I hoped to get several kilometres further round than that today, but I thanked her very much and we exchanged numbers so I could let her know where I got to and if I found a place to stay nearer the end of the track. I had a half-hearted hope of getting a lift across the harbour...although where one would camp in the vicinity of Marsden Point I had no idea.

Bidding Olivia and Rachel a good walk I set off down to Urqharts Bay and followed the road/footpath round the bays. This side of the harbour is housed and forested. Across the blue-green water is the Marsden Point oil refinery, a huge complex of towers and pipes the generates a constant hum that can be heard all around the harbour. I stopped to chat to a retiree walking along one of the beaches in one of the bays. Turns out he was house sitting in the bay and I was the first hiker he'd encountered. Like most who have not heard of Te Araroa he was suitably impressed by both the existence if the trail and the fact that people actually walk the whole thing in ine go. He had a few misgivings about me doing it by myself, but wished me well.

In the next bay over I was gaining ground on a woman walking her dog. The dog was so intrigued by this person coming up behind it kept looking behind and dragging back on the lead. I did my best to catch up as quickly as I could to save the woman tripping over the dog or it's lead, but there's only so fast I can go with my pack. In the end the woman stopped and let me catch up to save herself being dragged back down the footpath by her dog. Curiously enough once I caught up the dog decided it didn't like me and started barking it's head off. So we set off walking again and the dog amused itself with smells on the footpath while his owner and I chatted for a bit before she turned round to head home again.

It was late afternoon when I got to the Reotahi coastal walk around a small headland and reached the jetty at the 399km mark that is the end of the trail on this side of Whangarei Harbour. Turns out you don't need to walk all this way to McLeod's Bay and are advised to try and catch a boat across at any point along the route. There's no official way to get across the harbour; if you can't score a lift with a local fisherman you have to hitch in to Whangarei and then back out to Marsden Point to pick up Te Araroa again.

On the Reotahi Track I'd met a guy jogging, which was fortuitous as it both confirmed I was on the right path (at that point it looked suspiciously like a private driveway) and because, seeing I was a hiker, he stopped to chat. He knew all about the trail, and knowing it stopped at the water on this side asked what my plan was. My answer: eat, sleep and get across the harbour, but not necessarily in that order. The guy, Marcus, laughed and kindly offered to put me up in a cabin out the back of his house for the night. His house was in Mcleod's Bay, just beyond the end of the trail. He gave me his address and we agreed that if I couldn't get a lift across the harbour tonight I could just drop by. Then off he ran and off I walked.

By the time I got to the jetty boat traffic was zilch, the only thing out in the water being a tandem kayak with two guys fishing. Even if I could have got across tonight that would have left me with the issue if finding another place to stay so I decided to take up Marcus' offer and headed up to the main road through the town. I had meant to go to the cafe to get some dinner first, but I passed Marcus' house on the way--and he jogged up just as I got there. I waited outside while Marcus checked that it was okay with his partner Tam that they take in a random hiker for the night. Turns out she's nine months pregnant...with the baby due TOMORROW, but she wasn't phased at all--apparently their first child was nine days late and Tam was sure baby #2 would be similarly tardy.

They showed me to the cabin they had built in their backyard to house family members and their kids when then came to stay.  A roof, a bed, sheets and pillows! It's only been a night since I last had them, but as a hiker who never really knows where I'm going to end up sleeping next it's always a very welcome sight. While Marcus and Tam got their young son Otto off to bed I let Mum know I'd settled for the night, and also Olivia, who had said she'd grow concerned if she hadn't heard from me by nightfall.

I made friends with Marcus and Tam's cat before having a shower, and emerged to find myself invited to dinner: home made spaghetti and meatballs....and a glass of red wine, ah!  Turns out Marcus, who is originally from Germany, is a marine biologist, and both he and Tam, a Kiwi, work for the local council. I told them about life on the trail (Tam was especially amused at how being a hiker meant you ended up following some strange sweaty man home--not something you do everyday!) and they told be a bit about their work. They also showed me a website called Backyard Kiwi, where kiwi movement in the area can be tracked online.  Apparently its not uncommon for people to get a kiwi visiting their backyards here at night; we checked Backyard Kiwi but none of the transmitter-fitted birds were anywhere near our bay tonight. I'm glad to hear people diligently lock up their cats and dogs here at night!

Marcus and Tam also kindly offered to help me find a boat to give me a lift across the harbour in the morning. Marcus posted a request on the community Facebook group and within five minutes the neighbour across the road rang up and offered to take me, since he'd just bought a new boat and was keen to get it in the water. Fantastic!

Thanking them very much for their wonderful hospitality--and agreeing to lend a hand if it was required if Tam went into labour in the night (it had come up in conversation that I did six months volunteer work with the Tasmanian ambulance service...although I missed the pregnancy & birth training session!)--I headed to bed, once again overwhelmed at the good fortune and generosity I've encountered on this trip. Amazing.