Wild Camp Challenge ~ Nov 27-Dec 2, #8
The wait was over. Nivaun’s fifth appendage now restored. We camped one more night back at Lake Maraetai in Mangakino before starting the 50km link section to the Timber Trail, our first ride deep in the forests of the North Island.
Link Trail - Day One
Based on the conversation amongst the other cyclists about the elevation gain on this next section, and our experience to date just riding along the Waikato River, I was already hesitant about riding it in one day, but even more so about whether we could find a reasonable spot to wild camp mid-way. In an attempt to find some bare patches of ground on Google Earth, it appeared there might be a spot near the Arataki Suspension Bridge, at about the half way point.
In typical fashion, our start the next morning was slow after 6 days off the bike - slow to pack, followed by a last minute stop at the store, even though we had already been the day before. It was almost noon before we even left town.
The route starts on the next section of the Waikato River trail, the Maraetai, crosses the Mangakino Suspension Bridge at the 9km mark, and then climbs away from the river to wind through more farmland before reaching the edge of Pureora Forest Park.
By the time our tires hit gravel at the edge of the forest, it was nearing five o’clock. Just around the corner, the gravel road abruptly ended. Before us was a rutty 4WD track with a small “Great Ride” sign poking out of the tall grass, pointing down. (I guess to confirm this was indeed the route, because at that moment, the scene before us was not jiving with my mental map of a “Great Ride”). A few meters ahead the rutty track dropped down to the Arataki Suspension Bridge over a deep and narrow gorge. The Mangakino Stream pushing its way through underneath.
To our collective relief, there was a reasonably flat grassy mound, just on the other side with only a faint track through the grass, and a small creek running around behind it. The main dirt track turned right and curved around to head up the hillside. We thought it strange to find a side track carved out behind the grassy mound that went across the creek from there and then vertical to rejoin the main track. Finding no other options nearby, and considering from here, the main track started climbing, we decided to make camp.
As was our routine, Nivaun pitches the tent, then I setup the bed, while he goes on a walk to journal and take photos, giving us both some down time. Next, I decided to shower off, before thinking about what to prep for dinner. No sooner had I dressed again, than I heard motorcycles nearby.
To my surprise within seconds, I was looking across the bridge at not one, but two dirt bikes, getting ready to squeeze their way onto the suspension bridge and come to a full stop directly in front of our camp. With incredulous looks coming from underneath their Motocross helmets, the first Maori guy says, “Uh, we are going through here”, meaning our camp, and across the creek. Dumbfounded, I wasn’t sure what to say in response, I attempted to move our tent far enough to the side, so they could pass. After putting oil, in his engine, the same guy proceeds to inform me, “we will be coming back through here in about 10 minutes”. I watched in disbelief as their bikes roared to life, skirted around the tent with only a few inches to spare and then gunned it up the hill spitting dirt in all directions. I stood there dreading their return.
In a state of disbelief
By this time, Nivaun had heard them as well, and intercepted them on their return just above our camp, making it very clear (in no uncertain terms) they had no other option than to take the main track around our camp. As we watched them cross the bridge again, I knew there was no way I could spend the night in this spot and be at ease.
After a brief debate about whether we could find another place to camp further up the trail with only about an hour of daylight left, we packed up, pushed up, and began riding, earnestly looking for a spot where we could disappear into the underbrush.
Amazingly, within a few kilometers Nivaun discovered the perfect spot, and we did just that - disappeared off the trail into the comfort of the bush, tucked in amongst the ferns, with only bird song and the faint sound of the stream filling the air, as the twilight hour came to an end.
Finally - a peaceful Wild Camp all to ourselves!
Link Trail ~ Day 2
After a considerably more restful night, we were ready to climb the rest of the way to the start of the Timber Trail. By mid-day, we stopped at the intersection to the YMCA camp to get water from the stream and started to meet up with other cyclists. We presumed all of them were riding this 50km section from Mangakino in a day, but we discovered two of the cyclists had actually camped in the spot we abruptly left at the bridge. One was from Tasmania and the other Germany. They started the night before at 5pm from Lake Taupo 40km away, and fortunately by the time they crossed the Arataki bridge, we had already moved on to find another camp. A strange turn of events, but it was a relief to know that things had worked out as the universe intended. Even more so when we later learned, the Tasmanian was actually the son of the business partner to the couple we stayed with in Oyster Cove.
Mid-afternoon we arrived at the geographical Centre of the North Island, where a short walk winds back into the forest to the marker and two incredible old growth trees standing as sentinels. Just by letting our journey unfold we had somehow managed to find our way to the centre point of Tasmania and now the North Island of New Zealand.
By the time we reached the Ngaherenga campground, we had more than our fill of riding roller coaster gravel roads on what we thought would be a descent into the valley. We arrived to find all the cyclists we had met along the way, along with a number of Te Araora hikers.
Just before twilight, we were finally making dinner when a car pulled into camp, slowly circling the perimeter of the campground. As it passed us by, the Maori woman behind the wheel, rolled her window down simply to ask “are you okay and do you have everything you need?” Although we were in a campground with a long-drop and water, there was no cell service or any other services for miles. Thinking about how many backpackers must come through here during the hiking season, it was comforting to know these locals were checking in on everyone.