TUESDAY 1ST MARCH - DARK WATER
 
I arrived at the Legendary Black Water Rafting Company in plenty of time for my trip and sat outside in the morning sun, drying my towel next to me. This was going to be my one splash out, pardon the pun, during this last stage of my walk and what better to splash out on. Gathering the group, our guides took us all down to get fitted out. We were decked out in wetsuit dungarees, jacket, boots, cut of wellies and a helmet with miners light. I was bracing myself for some serious sub-zero temperatures but at least it was summer as the water gets down to below 10 degrees in the winter months.
 
All loaded up in the van, we drove to where we were going to finish the rafting, or tubing should I say, and chose ourselves a rubber inner tube. Before heading to the cave mouth we had some quick tuition on how to jump onto our rings and we each got a go leaping backwards off a small jetty, clasping our rubber doughnuts to our jacksies. Appetites wetted, we motored to the cave and, after carefully climbing down the small opening, we were all immersed in the inky blackness. Our two guides were really nice and they kept the jokes flowing which hopefully helped ease the anxieties of the more nervous in the group. Before we could get the tubing underway we first had to walk, scramble and slide deeper into the cave complex to where the underground streams were deep enough. We hadn't got far in before I noticed the glowworms gleaming above us. They looked like thousands of tiny LED's shining green above us and I though someone had maybe just rigged up some old christmas lights to keep the punters aghast. The whole experience so far had a surreal quality to it and even the cave walls looked like the fibreglass walls you get in theme parks. It was of course all real and we had a brief moment with our head torches off to admire the worms, or should I say... maggots! That's right, they are in fact fly larvae or, in other words, maggots. They glow as they don't have any outlets for bodily waste so their bodies push it all down to their tail end and mix it with a chemical that produces the phosphorescent reaction. Ingenious eh! The light they produce is apparently the most efficient known to man, producing only 2% heat to 98% light. A normal light bulb is 98% heat to 2% light which is pretty lame really. There is obviously a lot we could learn from these faeces burning cave maggots.
 
After a little tubing and all sufficiently wet, we got to a waterfall which our jumping practice earlier was preparation for. One by one we had to jump backwards onto our rings into the dark. It was only about 4ft but it was enough to get the adrenalin flowing and rouse a scream or two. Luckily only the worms could her me whimper like a girl as I took the plunge. It wasn't actually that cold and I was almost cozy sitting in my ring staring up at the ceiling constellations. We were now in the belly of the cave and we all rafted up in a line, turned our lamps off and floated quietly down the stream admiring the maggot show. Life was but a dream. The gentle current carried us slowly through and we all periodically added our own 'ooooooohhhhhhs' and 'ahhhhhhhhhhhhs' for dramatic effect. I never knew floating down a cold dark eel infested cave looking at maggots could be such fun.
 
Reaching the light at the end of the tunnel was the most surreal of all. It was like a golden lit jungle opening into the nocturnal world I had become accustom to so quickly. The regal beams of light tumble down from above and my pupils humbly contracted. It was like climbing out of a dream into Jurassic Park and I half expected a raptor to leap from the ferns to slash itself a fresh feed. Back at base we all devoured our hot showers and sat round warming ourselves with complimentary soup and bagels. It was a tasty end to a fantastic trip but before biting into my hot, butter dripping bagel I did a quick maggot check just to be safe!
 
I only had a short walk to Te Kuiti and wanting to get there early I set out in the midday heat. It was a grueling road walk over a huge hill but the views were nice enough to make it bearable. Reaching a junction I shed the pack for a drink and was beaconed over by an old maori woman at a house over the road. Being such a scorcher of a day she was taking pity on me and she invited me onto her porch for a cold drink with herself and her husband. They were a sweet couple and we chatted for a few hours in the end about this, that and the other. Lamenting over my coming road walk to town, the husband suggested I should cut across the farmers land adjacent to them and he phone and got permission. On leaving he even gave me a bag for frozen fish for my tea. Could this country get any nicer? From their house I also rang the local rag and got an interview for the next day, my well earned day of rest. I badly needed one. I could smell my socks through my shoes and I also had to arrange sending some food ahead as shops were about to get sparse in the coming week. As I hit Te Kuiti the big welcome sign read, "Te Kuiti, the shearing capital of New Zealand."
 

WEDNESDAY 2nd MARCH - HOUSEWORK 
No rest for the wicked. Got my washing, shopping, internet and housework done and also managed to save on postage on my food by popping into the local DOC office. There happened to be an officer there from Pureora, my next destination, and she took my bag of food ahead for me to pick up in a few days. They staff there also gave me some useful route advice and they even updated me on the weather prospects so I was well set for the days to come. Shortly after I had my paper interview which I steamed through, well rehearsed after the previous three. I was thrown, however, when the reporter, Doug, asked me what the highlights have been so far. There have been so many that my mind slurred to a hold and all I managed to dribble out was an enthusiastic thumbs up for the cave trip. It was local at least. I finished the fish for dinner and managed to over stuff myself on curried cabbage like the glutinous food bin I am. Double dinner Dan as i'm known by my family. I was beached in front of the campsite TV for the rest of the night.

 
THURSDAY 3rd MARCH - GORGED 
Doug took a quick snap of me on the main drag before I headed down the 4km main road stretch to get to the Mangokewa reserve. Here I picked up the track heading down the gorge and just at the beginning there were some caravaners I managed to pin down for a few bucks sponsorship which made me feel a bit better about my lack of collection time in Te Kuiti.
 
The bank of the river had collapsed leaving only a few inches of the track left. I managed to tip toe along it without triggering another landslide bit it didn't bode well for the rest of the track. This was the first gorge I had walked down and it was a really nice change from the bush and rolling hills of late. It was picture perfect with many a flock of ducks floating on the serene waters before exploding off in a flurry of feathers when I neared. I didn't even get to ask them for sponsorship. The river ran its way up the twisting gorge and the seriously overgrown and boggy track tried its best to follow, as did I, but it wasn't easy. In places it was poorly marked and the bogs weren't easy to cross. At one point after losing the markers I ended up on a farm track along the top of the ridge before spotting a white tipped stake back down by the river in front of me. About mid afternoon I shed my outer skin and had a skinny to revitalize my post bloated self. I had been feeling cabbaged all day but my leaf blocked gut was now easing itself back to normal. That will teach me for being too greedy and every squall farted the lesson home!
 
The track veered off through a pine forest towards the end and eventually joined a farm race. I was tired after the days excursions trying to follow the path and I was planning to ask a friendly farmer if I could pitch up in one of their fields. It would have been a good plan if I could have got anywhere near a farmhouse without a pack of ferocious dogs seeing me off. I tried twice but the guards were having none of it so I just found an empty field and camped up anyway. As I was setting up two large black and white, geese-like, birds, a type I had been seeing all day but hadn't seen before, hooted overhead. The landscape and the animals were changing and I decided to give the hooting geese the pleasure of being counted as I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
 

FRIDAY 4th MARCH - BOG INN 
It had been a very early night so I though an early start was in order and I roused myself in the dark as was moving before the sun came up. I headed out towards the highway and walked south towards a lateral point that I could hitch to Pureora from. There were a few kids waiting for their school bus but apart from the odd truck the highway was pleasantly quiet for once. I stopped at the top of a hill as I noticed a mass of brambles lining a forest track and fancied a blackberry breakfast. It was slim pickings and the Cyanide Possum poison sign on the gate put me off slightly. Hopefully I hadn't ingested a lethal dose.
 
The road eased out into a huge long romanesque straight through a flat valley bottom and reaching the far end I parked myself next to the railway lines and waited to pick up a ride. I waited and I waited some more but no one came for me. I only got thumbs up from a few comedians but apart from their sidesplitting moments, no joy. Oh well, I was in no hurry so I threw a few stones at the traffic signs and eventually got my diary out. It was the longest wait for a ride yet but my plight was spotted before I had to try any more direct action methods like a human road block or something. My lift was from a very happy shepherd called Wehi. very happy because he had just got his car back from the mechanic after months of struggling to get his kids to school. I realised it was the lift I had been waiting for when, after telling him I was heading for Pureora, he said, "if I was you I would come back to the (farm) station. You can have a swim in the creek, come over to mine for lunch and then I can drop you in Pureora." "I can't refuse an offer like that," I replied and minutes later I plunged into the icy stream by his house. After an egg and bean lunch he and his wife dropped me off at the DOC office where more food was waiting for me. I'm going to start expecting things like this to happen as they seem to be happening so regularly. I almost get surprised when people don't invite me back to theirs..
 
I left an intention form at the DOC office and left a dust trail through the forest on my way towards the track heading up Mt Pureora, my first real mountain. It was just 45 degrees straight up with no let up until the summit but I knew it was going to be spectacular at the top. It was worth every drip. The bush suddenly died out and the trig came into sight. I forced myself to look at my feet until I got to the peak and then my toes opened up to a panoramic that had me stunned for a few minutes until a text bleeped through and shook me out of my stupor. There was the huge crater of Lake Taupo to the South, the snow capped Mt Taranaki to the West and immediately on my left looking South was the huge forest covered Hauhungaroa Range. I tried to trace my route back up to country but was soon boggled by the scale of it all/ I had walked a bloody long way, that was for sure. I was definitely over half way and had covered about 900km give or take. I took a few timer photos of me jubilantly hanging off the trig and set off for Bog Inn hut, my shelter for the night. The steep track looked like an elephant had hurtled down and smashed up all the steps. Right at the top I saw something hop by my feet and arched to see a green frog fleeing into the scrub. My first frog and at the top of a mountain. Hmmmmmmm, altitude sickness must be setting in.
 
I got to Bog Inn just before sunset and as the name hinted at, it was surrounded by swamp but the hot summer had parched most of them. I did get a dip in one particularly fetid pool just before arriving and I took it to be a necessary initiation right before I could cross the hearth. It was a rustic old hut built in the 1960s and it had a coal stove, soot blackened walls, four wooden bunks and cobwebs in every corner. There was a musty smell inside but nothing my socks couldn't overpower. It was certainly cozy and as it got dark it got rather creepy as well. Sitting inside, writing under candle light, I kept expecting to look up to see a silhouetted face at the big window next to me. The quiet night in the hut I was looking forward to was turning into a horror movie and I wished i had some company. "Bog Inn," it would be a good name for a gore flick and a perfect setting too. I hid in my sleeping bag and forced back my twisted imagination until sleep came for me. The mice and rats gnawing at the walls from outside kept waking me in the night but sleep quickly overcame their scraping and scratching before they could break through the walls and eat me alive.

Trig Happy		Inside Bog Inn

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