A two day retreat away from city life is always good for breaking the stress (or boredom) of a working week and so Ed Newsletter and I decided that, in spite of a MetService severe weather warning for the North Island mountains, we would head into the local hills. A wander over the Orongorongos to the coast and back seemed like a nice idea. So on a fine but windy Friday evening we headed off to Paua Hut. A warm fire, nice meal and a good sleep in a cosy cabin was our reward.
The next morning we woke to the wind roaring through the swaying and creaking trees, sand and gravel blowing down the valley, and clouds darkening the sky in the west. We packed and headed up river then started up Mathews Stream. Normally this is easy travel but the lower stream was now filled with a thick new growth of Buddleia, an invasive plant that runs riot once established. Fortunately higher up the stream it was clearer and easier going and we were soon at the last climb up to North Saddle. And here the forecast rain arrived. Gentle for a short time but soon quite heavy, and all the while the wind increased. Just before climbing out the bush we stopped to put on extra clothes in readiness for the anticipated water blasting we would get on the ridge.
And what a blasting! It was utterly impossible to stand. We crawled on hands and knees along the ridge unable to look into the stinging rain as it lashed around us. I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of Ed clinging to the grass and her laughing at our helplessness as we were spun around then dumped in the wind. But when we finally dropped down the Wairarapa side of the ridge it was quite calm. We followed Wharekauhau Stream towards the coast, past the waterfall that on a previous visit I had difficulty climbing down because I couldn’t find a better way but this time was easy because Harry Smith had told us of the sneaky secret pathway hidden on the true left.
We stopped further down for lunch and while here Ed became acquainted with her first ever hippopotamus. That she seemed genuinely surprised was strange to me because I had become accustomed to lots of them in the Orongorongos. That the hippopotamus was green also surprised her as did the yellow rabbit. But she soon got used to them and in fact to my mind seemed almost too taken by them.
But soon we were on our way again and it was now quite pleasant walking down the river bed. As we neared the coast the sky lightened and the rain cleared. We climbed to a grassy headland and there in the farmer’s paddock was a green mother hippopotamus with a calf, an orange rabbit, as well as the usual white sheep. Ed was not surprised by these animals anymore and in fact was quite obviously becoming more partial to them all the time as she now seemed to be expecting them every time we stopped.
We strolled around the coast as the wind whipped up spray from Palliser Bay and then we started up Mukamuka Stream. Here we came across a battered vehicle in the riverbed partly buried in gravel which we assumed to be the abandoned transport of a previous safari to the area—perhaps searching for hippopotamuses. We didn’t have to go much further before we found a sheltered camp site in the grass among the manuka on the river back. It was a pleasant place to put up the tent and cook tea as the first stars appeared in the clear night sky. And the only animals we saw here were black cows.
During the night we could hear the wind roaring down the valley but in the shelter our tent hardly gave a flap. The next day dawned reasonably fine although the wind had increased further and it made for hard work when we started heading upstream.
Crossing South Saddle was definitely windy but nothing like the day before and there was no rain and we were soon back down in the Orongorongo Valley having a rest in the shelter from the wind.
While here Ed made it quite clear that there would be no more hippopotamuses or rabbits for me as over the last two days she had obviously become quite addicted to them and now wanted them all for herself. But I didn’t mind as I was rather bored with them anyway.
So with the last of them wrapped in a plastic bag and stuffed in her pack we headed back along the five mile track and home. What finally became of them I can only guess.