Party: Anna, Elizabeth, Lesley
Distance: 10.5 km
Elevation: 370m
Time: 4 hours
Notes: Before we all head off our separate ways over Christmas, we thought a nice green walk in the Waitakeres was called for. We have done this walk before and on reflection it would be even better in reverse - coming out via the Pararaha Valley which is the best half of the walk. It would also mean that you don't have a mighty long uphill at the end on Odlins. One of the pleasures of walking a track more than once is the little rituals you develop and the anticipation of certain areas. The Valley is a good example: we check out the bulrushes; we look at how high the water is in relation to the boardwalk; we remember testing Anna's Tararua biscuit recipe with Debra Lockie, sitting on the boardwalk having a snack; we never fail to be excited to see the valley laid out in front of us; we take our boots and socks off to cross THAT stream - which has been high, low and frostily cold but always refreshing; we stop at the shelter for morning tea (or we move on if there are DOC staff cutting the grass, or a gaggle of students); we know there is a chain railing embedded in the rock further up from the shelter and that there is a stunning view at the top of this where we say again that we MUST walk up the valley to the waterfall one day - on a hot day, mind, maybe in February? - and we file that away. Somewhere in the middle of this circuit is the 'nest of vipers' too - a low point that is gloomy, wet, muddy and full of viperous tree roots and a tangle of hanging 'scribbles'. We recognise the little camping area by the stream. We notice, this time, the kanuka in absolute full luminous snowy bloom, and that the cabbage trees this year are extra-ordinary too (even the wee ones have flowered competitively this year). "Put that in the blog so we remember when they flower". The same track can surprise, too. We had sat down for second-lunch by the Pararaha Stream, eating an eccentric mix of antibiotics, cold potatoes and macaroni cheese, when three strapping chaps splashed into view from down-river. They had followed the river from the beach, swimming and climbing over rocks to this point, where they hopped out and ran up the Odlin stairs back to their car. We stopped them long enough to find out how they had done it, whether three only slightly middle-aged women could do it and how long it had taken them. When we saw them sprint off up Odlin we revised their suggested one and a half hours to more like three. They swam quite a bit of it and wore trainers, not boots, and we decided that we would have to attempt it ourselves this summer. Yup. I will be over my phobia of water by then, my therapist says so.
