8 - 12 November 2007

From the Psychotic to the Sublime

The Lake Waikaremoana Track

Day 1, Page 4

The mist was becoming even more pervasive, and for a while I wondered whether a whiteout awaited further up. I was pleased with my progress uphill with a full pack, and was pacing myself for a long day.

I continued picking my way through the tangled tree roots. My sticks are invaluable in territory like this as they remove most of the stress from the stabiliser muscles of the knees and ankles. The bigger you are the more important that gets, and not just in a direct line.

Here's just part of the debris from the mammoth cleanup following the big storm.

We're getting higher, a lot higher, but out on the lake there's still not much to see.

The slope remains fairly consistent and the orange triangles continue to point upwards.

A short length of rail leads the track out onto a bare and slightly downward sloping shelf leading to a sheer drop.

I stay well towards the back of the ledge, and gingerly raise my camera with one hand to get a picture. The mist has begun to burn off now.

I turn to the left

I very gingerly make my way left towards the exit. 2 hours to here. About a quarter of the way.

As we head back inland, I notice an island of white flowers, with the path going round either side. I notice, too, a shortcut track that omits the lookout. Unfortunately, it's the only one I see along the way.

So far I haven't got a name for this little fellow. [23 March 2010: My thanks to Andrew Simpson who has identified the flower as Ourisia macrophylla.]

For a while I am buoyed by the adrenalin released at the lookout. I swallow a bit of water. Funny how your mouth dries out sometimes.

I will say this for the track: there's no slippery mud. There's no fine clay component to the soil. Boggy from time to time, yes - largely a wet humus of dead beech leaves. And as a Waitakeres veteran, this is something I appreciate, especially on bare surfaces near the edge of the cliff.

The mist assumes odd forms as the light pours in here and there.

I mutter an exorcism or two and grab a piece of biltong from the top pocket of the camera bag. That salt hits the spot all right. I wonder how far ahead I am - so far.

I pass yet another huge old beech bole. The root system torn out when they fall is often over 5 metres across.

I'm starting to respond to negatives - the slight clammy dampness from the pervasive mist, trees across the track forcing a minimal detour, the beginning replacement of the lush lower vegetation with the slightly eery and lichenous upper-level landscape. It's not as bad as it's going to get but I don't know this yet. I swallow a little more water - no question I've sweated a bit coming up the hill.

I notice a fern I haven't seen elsewhere - or haven't recognised. A little later research suggests it is heruheru, Leptopteris superba.

A kiekie at head level offers a nice shot and I accept the offer

I bend for a closer look at the moss on a fallen branch.

The track has levelled out some along here, but still with a few ups and downs. The mist may have burned off over the lake but it's reluctant to take it's leave from here just yet. I look at my camera clock. About 10.15. Keep going for a bit and then maybe a packs-off break.