Five years ago at Easter I had to bail on a club trip to Whirinaki because of a cold. Despite multiple sneezes on the day we departed, this time I decided to take a “kill or cure” approach.
We don’t often go to Whirinaki because of the distance: seven hours driving under the best possible conditions. But Helen had cunningly booked a backpackers in Turangi and we were drifting off to sleep by 10.30pm. Happily the easy-mediums were easily convinced to depart by 7am, as us medium-fits had a longish day ahead.
After a windy drive to Minginui, Richard and I were tramping by 10. The start of our long loop, to Central Whirinaki hut, was a highway reminiscent of the Heaphy, and it was a novelty to look at the forest scenery instead of your feet. Richard’s wishlist for the trip included seeing Blue Ducks and Kaka (and perhaps curing his own cold). Within an hour we saw our first pair of Whio, making loud alarm calls.
We had lunch at a strangely flash A-frame shelter (complete with wood burner!) before saying a quick hello to Central Whirinaki hut’s warden and heading off into what was now pouring rain. One interesting feature of this trip was the variation between the official DOC leaflet, track signs, and other track signs. Would it take 3 hours, 2.5 hours or 2 hours to get to Upper Whirinaki hut? The next section stumbling along the river provided a stark contrast to the morning’s track.
We arrived soaking wet at 4.30pm, thankful for the lovely and unoccupied 9-bunk hut (after the Ruahines two weeks prior, visions of chopper loads of hunters were hard to shake). Like every hut we visited, it had a nice supply of dry wood, though a bit of conscientious wet wood collection did occur.
Going up another river on day two, a flash of orange ahead resolved into a lone hunter, who told us he was fly camping further downstream. We soon left him behind, feeling guilty about disturbing the wildlife (Richard spooked a deer on the track – just after we spotted another pair of Whio).
Lunch was at Upper Te Hoe hut, another seldom-visited nine bunker. While mistily atmospheric, the weather wasn’t too wet, making the climb from the hut back up to the ridge almost enjoyable. The final part of the descent to Central Te Hoe hut was on a newly cut track blasted into the hillside (complete with overkill handwires). Little did we realise it then (and in continued contradiction to the information leaflet) but this highway-standard track would persist for the rest of the trip.
We arrived at the hut happy the promised 10-hour day had become only eight. I was not so happy to realise I’d accidentally abandoned my hut socks at Upper Whirinaki but the 15-bunk hut was soon warm enough for even the sockless. Again, no one else was to be seen. Not exactly what you expect on a long weekend, and it was hard to rationalise the size of the hut given the lack of entries in the log book. It felt very isolated among the ancient trees; real back country.
The next morning, we headed up yet another river, complete with another Whio sighting. The trees seemed even older and more impressive here, in the most isolated section of the park. You expect podocarps but the beech were giant too. Some identification attempts ensued, of which Illona and Megan may or may not have been proud. And we mostly avoided the nettle that distinctly failed to live up to our now-dubiously-regarded leaflet’s warnings.
This third day was in theory the longest; 10 hours with two huts to pass on the way. The descent towards Mangakahika hut was a highlight – primeval forest and liquid bird song. Lunch was at Roger’s hut, famous for its stained glass window, and here we encountered some mountain bikers. They told us that what we thought would be a grovel up a barely tracked river was in fact a purpose-built MTB track. We were not unhappy to hear this news, even if it did make the day’s 7am start and forced-march-pace retrospectively redundant. The expected rain front soon arrived in earnest, and it was lovely to reach Moerangi hut by 3.30pm for another night by the fire.
Monday dawned truly wet, and we appreciated the three hours of MTB highway back to the beginning and our rendezvous with Helen’s group. It’d been 80km of spectacular forest, with three Whio sightings, one Kaka heard and two colds cured. Even the one hour spent stationary in Bulls on our return journey didn’t diminish the experience