1 November 2026
The Farm to Whananaki
25 mi/40.5km
Today is long, so the morning is early. I don’t really mind early mornings when there’s an indoor space and a place for me to pack up my bag though, and today has both. Hot coffee in a comfy place, bag packed on a porch and not in the dirt. Tent not wet with condensation for once. Sun shining. It’s going to be a good day.
Mash and I walk together for the first eleven miles of the day, which happens to be all road. We absolutely house the first eight miles, then I poop out a little at the end when my feet start screaming at me. I root around through my pack for any kind of nutrition that will get me to the actual trail. Then I put my headphones in and get some music going. I know this isn’t responsible when walking on the road, but I will not be able to keep moving forward without it. I just know myself.
Good news: I make it through the road section and to the actual trail! As we walk up and over the stile and sterilize our shoes for kauri dieback, Thijs saunters up to us. We ask after the others, but it sounds like he’s the only one who’s done the road walk. The rest hitched.
The Helena Ridge Track starts, and Mash and I are instantly over the moon. Well-graded, wide track? Of actual trail? A ridge with a view in the distance?? Swoon. I’m so happy I could cry. There are more of those wooden stairs like the Puketī day, but because I’m not in pain, they aren’t traumatic—just regular hard. There’s a good bench at the top of one of the stair sections on which we sit for a moment while Thijs passes. It would be a good lunch spot, but the sun is relentless today. We opt to keep going in hopes of finding shade.
Maybe a half mile later I come upon Mash sitting amongst some bright green low ground cover type plants. It looks like he’s a little sprite sitting in a field, especially with his big straw hat. “This might be the best we’re going to get if we want shade,” he says. I plop down, more than happy for the break, even if it is a little planty. We eat our lunch and then agree to go at our own pace until the water tank in a few miles. Then he says he’ll probably zoom ahead after that to make sure he can check us into the Holiday Park.
This is fine with me deep down, but I also like to have a little whine from time to time. I start doing this pathetic little booing sound just as an older guy comes around the corner. We’ve basically seen no one else all day who wasn’t a TA hiker and now that I decide to have a little fake fit this rando sees it? Come on.
Ben’s laughing hysterically after the hiker passes. “I thought I was going to have to tell him that I was doing care in the community, like I’d taken you out for the day!” I press my hands over my face in a semblance of shame, though I’m laughing too.
Remember how we thought we found such a great lunch spot? Well, ten minutes later there’s a beautiful boardwalk with perfect benches in the shade. There are also little plaques here and there explaining the different trees. Boardwalk, benches, AND informational signs? Say less.
I listen to my audiobook more as I plod along. There are cute moments, and it’s a pretty mindless read, which is actually perfect for right now. Towards the end of the forest track it gets pretty rooty again and I have to watch my steps. Then after a step uphill I end up in a big rolling farm field, manage to lose the trail even though there’s only one obvious gravel track, find it again, get lost again a little while later at a confusingly marked stile, get pissed off, until eventually I see Mash walking up the trail towards me from the water. He hangs out with me while I filter, then heads off again. He needs to make it to the holiday park with enough time to check in, so I’m on my own for the last nine miles or so of the day.
It’s a nice evening. There’s more farm track, some more woods, a walk very close to the edge of an enclosure with a bull that takes a step towards me (I hike VERY fast past him then), and a couple of stream crossings where I very nearly escape without wet feet, but one of my heels splashes in. Dangit. At the road I spot Joel hitchhiking just as a van pulls up to him. “Want to get in?” he asks, and I shake my head no even though my feet are going YES YES YES.
Miles of road, listening to book, day slides towards evening. Nothing is specifically wrong with me except the bottoms of my feet, which feel swollen and inflamed. Road. Just so much road. Birds, trees, flowers, some street art, more estuary. Up a hill and around a final corner, and I finally see the sign for my destination. It’s over. It’s done.
Mash sees me walk through the grass towards the others’ tents and he walks right up to me with an enormous glass bottle of beer. I thank him profusely and collapse on the grass next to the tent. All the others are there, too, and they congratulate me on the long day.
Later, after I’ve recovered slightly, we cook and eat dinner in the kitchen and covered outdoor dining area, respectively. I take a shower but I have no soap, so it’s really like a power rinse. Hot, though.
It feels good to have done a long day, even if most of it was road. There’s a forgotten satisfaction in walking very far and being tired as a result. I’m grateful for the bit of trail we did get today, and the fact of my having made it here.
