GISBORNE TO ROTORUA ON FOOT.

Gisborne Times, Volume XLVIII, Issue 4472, 13 February 1917, Page 6

GISBORNE TO ROTORUA ON FOOT.

(By Wm. Manson in the Auckland Star). The beauties of New Zealand scenery have been described- in lecture and in book. Countless travellers have sounded New Zealand’s praise in all corners of the Earth, and Rudyard Kipling lias immortalised it in tlie passage, “Last, loneliest, loveliest, exquisite, apart.” All that travellers sav is true, but men who follow the beaten track and rush

hither and thither in motor cars see only the fringe of New Zealand’s beauty; to them the heart of the bush, tlie rippling, rushing, roaring waters of the mountain stream, the great solemn silence of the night jii some unexplored fern glade, and the aweinspiring swish and crack of the bush giants in a gale is a. closed book. To walk from Gisborne to Rotorua is a fair journey, but one that will repay those who follow the trial. Let us describe it. Leaving Gisborne in the early morning, we soon pass Patutalii, rich with memories of .the early strife between the pioneers and the Maori warriors; where brave men of both races spilled their blood to settle differences that to-day are settled in the office of a dyspeptic land agent. We climbed the “Gentle Annie” and passed through the smiling country surrounding Waerenga-o-kuri. From this point to the banks of the Ruakituri River, forty miles further on, the road passes through a succession of sheep farms, where the sheep, with tlieir “golden” fleeces, hold undisputed sway on tlie steep hillsides and in the narrow valleys. From Waerenga-o-kuri the main road is followed until the “woolslied” is reached —those who

follow the by-ways must pick the trail by landmarks such as “the track

on the north side of the hollow tree”, since two days may pass away without the opportunity of securing information —where we turn to the right and then to tlie left and follow the road to Hangaroa, thirty miles out. We climbed and descended, as the road wound about between the lulls, and finally reached the .Hangaroa valley, a valley of beauty and rest-dotted with green fields amid the trees, cooled by tlie river, and encircled by hills. Across the river the road is cut around the face of the hill, and the next ten miles is a steady pull upwards. The task is made light by the bracing air, and our energy is- rewarded by the panorama below. True, the hills and gorges are shorn of the trees, but this enables us to see clearly the rugged nature of tlie country and intensifies the beauty of the forty miles of bush to be traversed later. Forty miles out from Gisborne, the road becomes a bridle track, and those who begrudge the “backblocker” good prices for his wool or mutton, or beef, should try to walk along this bridle track after a night of rain. Originally six feet wide, cut along the face of a hill, with a sheer drop of hundreds of feet should you slip, the track, as we crossed it, was in places completely covered with land slides, and, at times, every step necessitated a dead pull of six or nine inches to free our feet from the mud. Picture yourself packing the winter supplies over such roads. To the casual traveller, however, his. inconvenience is compensated by the sense of freedom and joy of living as he gazes ovei’ the miles of rugged liill-tops. J The rough life, and tlie constant fight with Nature in these lonely wilds seems to give men kind hearts. Should we ever grow old, so that some scenes of youth may be forgotten, our memory will always retain a pleasing picture of the hospitality shown us, complete strangers, by these men and women who live in “wayback.” We forded tlie Ruakituri River on horseback, through the kindness of one of the settlers in lending us horses, and shortly after entered the twenty mile bush leading to’ Lake Waikaremoana. The track through the hush is- rarely used, and in places we had to climb over fallen trees, and push aside the undergrowth to get along, but the joy of it! Nature in all her wild beauty, clad in every shade of green, giant rimus raising their heads above us, around and about us great nikaus and cabbage trees spread tlieir fronds in bold relief against the darker

green of the shrubs. For twenty miles we had the bush for company, passing waterfalls, crossing streams, now at some fairly shaded bend of the track where two hills join, then standing on the face of a hill looking down, down the tree-clad gorges, where monster trees appeared as saplings. Suddenly the track turns < sharply to the left as it rounds a lull i and we almost miss a glimpse of Lake •< Waikaremoana, ten miles away. It js framed between two dead trees, and < glitters in- the sun haze 1 jke a sheet of gold. And so it is—every turn brings : forth some new wonder, until exclamations fail, and we gaze at Nature s handiwork in silent admiration. As < we near the lake we pass through a clearing which is completely shut in by hills except for the entrance and outlet. Surely in the ages gone bj, this has been the bed of a lake, which has broken its walls and emptied it- ■ self into "Waikaremoana ; the thought 1 that it may suddenly fill oppresses, and Ave are’ pleased when we leave it. Shortly afterwards we strike the bank of “a “still river”—still because of its depth—and a quarter of a mile further on we see this huge body of water pouring through a narrow channel and over the rocks as over some ponderous lockgate. Then the lake we steptoed from the bush to view a paradise. The setting sun streamed its rays across the bosom of the motionless lake, the evening’s haze dimmed the outline of the trees, and then blurred reflection in the _ water gave us the impression of peering into unfathomable depths. A\ ould: that a Scot could see this lake-, and gi .... word picture of its magnificence. We have crossed Taupo, Rotorua, Tarawera, Rotoiti, and ethers; we have passed Rootira in the distance, but for wild magnificent splendour Waikaremoana excels , We crossed the lajie and enteied on what proved to be the most citing part of the trip. Ihe b which we were now about to traverse lies at the mouth of. the Hopurauhine - Stream, and is m the heart of the TJrewera Country, the least explored part of New Zealand We struck the track on the light bank, after dodging into the stream to pfl»ss of the passage in the Lady of tl • “ E ‘Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain Assistance from the hand to gam; c f . tangled oft, that bursting through. Each haihorn shed her showers «t \iTso we walked. The track led into the bush till, honbiing back we came again on the Hopnm li Stream five miles from its -mouth. Here the track disappeared and /we were compelled to follow the bed of the stream for a distance of two imles , at times wading waist deep in its rush- ; ing waters, swollen by the recent rains. The interest m this part oi the iourney was well maintained 1 through the necessity of chasing ano ; dodging the wild cattle which roam bv the water. ~ That night our camp was pitched , in the bush.: Give your romantic L fancy fullest play, and still you will . fail to picture the seehe. Four huge > trees, like giant sentinels, formed a . square about our tent, the dyn g light of day faintly pierced the dense 3 bush and kissed the ferns a lasVgood-nio-bt the moon's bright .rays touched i and increased the life of the dancing - water as it sped on its way to the lake, i Then night came, in that solemn, sudden wav it has in the bush; the camp : lire spluttered and burst into flame, i deepening the gloom and giving birth i to thousands of fantastic shadows, l which .hit this; way and that way as the flames bominand. : .

In the morning, mountain mists envelope the tree-tops in a mantle of grey, and as the track rises higher and higher we experience the penetrating nature of the mist. A portion of the track, about ten miles from the lake, is dangerous; it lies along the face of a hill composed of soft papa rock, and is not more than 12 inches’ wide, with a sheer slip of hundreds of feet into a miniature waterfall. By this time, however, the nerves are well braced, and the track is crossed without fear. Soon ive reached the Maori village of Wliiti, leaving the track to Maungapohatu, Rua’s headquarters, on the right. From tlie lake to Runtahuna is twenty miles, all through scenery of the greatest grandeur. From Ruatalnma a motor road runs right through to Rotorua, passing Te Whajti and. Galatea on the way. Between Ruatalnma and Te Whaiti the scenery is very pretty and varied, as the road rises from the valleys to the lull tops. At these latter places the Maori may be seen in all his native simplicity. We desire to pay him a tribute- —wo found him most hospitable and courteous and anxious for our welfare along the lonely roadGalatea is the next point on the journey, and the pedestrian would do well to fill the water bottle at the Rangitaiki River as he goes through, since the next twenty miles, across the Kaingaroa Plains and pate the Government prison camp, is prrictlcally waterless. This part of the road is like the crow’s flight—straight so straight that it seems endless. There is no shelter on it, and the only thing to be seen is acres of stunted ti-tre© and small pines marking out a mighty forest in the future. Before striking the Wa-iotapu-Rotorua Road, tlie traveller will pass some interesting thermal deposits and will also secure a. good view of Rainbow Mountain. I lie scenery on the Rotorua Road is wellknown, hut the road itself has a special interest for those who walk it—we refer to the- endless amusement one gets in clearing the sand out 5f the boots and eyes.