Savlon and Tokenui Huts via Tutaetoko Stream to Manganuku campsite
Mayer and I at Savlon Hut on the morning of day two.
How to get to the car park
Google Maps: Tutaetoko Road, Toatoa (outside of Ōpōtiki). The car park is at the end of Tutaetoko Road, about ten minutes along Otara Road, outside of Ōpōtiki. The gravel road is narrow with plenty of pot holes - beware of the section where the road forks. The left is a 4WD track that heads down to the river, so we kept going straight until we got to the car park. Keep in mind that further up is private land, and we stopped to have a chat with one of the home owners before finding the trailhead.
Ronna, if you had balls, they’ll definitely get wet today.
My friend Mayer likes to keep it real. We’ve done a few day hikes together now, and just when I think I’ve cracked his sense of humour, he’ll throw something left field that keeps me wondering what actually makes our friendship tick. Being the introvert that I am, going into the backcountry definitely appealed to me. Less people, more chances of having a hut to yourself - just add cheese and that’s my dream getaway. Being my first time, we had originally planned on an overnighter to Savlon Hut, but Mayer convinced me to take the Monday off work so we could check out Tokenui Hut too. As gruelling as our three days were on my body (after a week my legs still looked like I got my ass beaten by a cat), I would do it again in a heartbeat. Just don’t tell Mayer that.
A ute was already parked up as I pulled into the Tutaetoko Road end where Mayer and I would start our walk. My friend Kat was driving my Rav back to Whakatāne and brought along her dog Diesel to keep her company for the drive home - he was so good in the car, I think he’s going to be a great adventure dog for sure. We managed to head off late morning, but being daylight savings, there was plenty of daylight left so I didn’t mind.
Feeling fresh and full of beans on day one as we made our way to Savlon Hut via Tutaetoko Stream.
Day 1: Tutaetoko Road to Savlon Hut via Tutaetoko Stream
Tutaetoko Road - 60m asl | Savlon Hut - 278m asl
Approx. 14km in 7 hours at my pace
Oh look at that smiling face - she had no idea what she was in for. As we walked further up Tutaetoko Road, the owner of one of the houses overlooking the river gave us a wave. It was just as well Mayer got chatting to him as he pointed us towards the trailhead that would save us a couple of kilometres walking in the river. Mayer had been to the Urutawa forest a few times before and had missed this track on his way to Brills Hut.
I did learn something pretty early on - I turn gumby-footed when I’m sidling, especially on steep slopes with narrow footing. Even though we were following the track, it also felt that the soil became increasingly less stable both from recent rain and erosion. There were plenty of times Mayer had to pull me up so I could climb over logs that had fallen at awkward angles - that turned out to be a recurring theme throughout the three days. After sidling for about 30 minutes, I turned to bum-sliding down to the river where we stopped for lunch. Mayer was very happy with my choice of Red Leicester cheese, salami and Putok (a Filipino bread) for lunch.
Where we left Tutaetoko Stream for awhile and started bush bashing.
After lunch, we spent most of the time criss-crossing the river. I wish I shared Mayer’s sure-footedness. I tried my best to keep pace as I learned to read the flow of the river and look for the best places for me to cross. I did like that he didn’t mollycoddle me - as long as I was still in his sights, he gave me the space to figure it out. The river levels and flow were pretty good, striking it lucky with a weather window that week. Just as I was getting used to walking along the river, we spotted the orange triangle that marked the start of my bush bashing. I gave Mayer the GoPro so he could capture the moment my metaphorical balls got wet - at 153cm I had no doubt it would happen much sooner than it would for Mayer. From memory, the water never got past my hips.
The sudden steep climb sent a shock through the system that highlighted just how much fitness I had lost during the recent lockdown. Up until then, I had only tramped DoC (Department of Conservation) tracks that never required my body to fight against bush, or be face to face with ferns as tall as I was. It was times like this that I questioned wearing shorts as my thighs just kept collecting cuts along the way.
Thanks to Urutawa regular David L. White for putting in this rope.
After much bush bashing and swearing, we spent more time in the river. We came across a gem of a small waterfall - which meant crossing some very slippery rocks. That’s why I’m grateful to the Urutawa regular (legend actually), David L. White for putting in the rope we used - I’m not sure if I would have made it across otherwise. He’s been to Savlon Hut at least 10 times over the years and seems to spend most of the year in and around the Urutawa forest.
It was around 6pm when we tackled the short steep climb up to the hut. There is good water supply at the hut so we didn’t need to bring some up from the stream. I smiled as I sat outside the hut, finally getting the chance to take in the incredible place we had walked into and soak in the sunset.
Mayer spent most of the night reading the hut book entries to see what route other trampers took to Tokenui Hut from Savlon. He said we had two options - we could head straight for the ridge until it linked up to the Te Waiti - Tokenui track, or walk as far as we could along Tutaetoko Stream then head for the ridge. With another sunny day ahead of us, I chose wet feet over bush bashing on undulating terrain.
Oh yeah, when he finished reading, I also helped Mayer do some of his Te Reo Māori homework. It was fun putting on my teacher’s hat and helping him with his pronunciation.
Savlon Hut on the morning of day two.
Day 2: Tokenui Hut via Tutaetoko Stream
Tokenui Hut - 352m asl | Approx. 5km | How long? Bloody too long!
Mayer knew that this would be a big day for me, so he carried most of the weight in his pack. As much as my ego wanted to protest, he was right. It was such a beautiful morning that we had our coffee in the little section above the hut (near the dog kennels), with Mayer pointing out slip clearings that are prime spots for deer. He did think about bringing his rifle, but decided against it in the end. We saw a buck by the river the day before, and it was the first time I had seen one in person so that was exciting.
Something I forgot to mention on day one was my multiple encounters with Ongaonga (stinging nettle). Over the three days we walked by the river, I subconsciously gravitated to Ongaonga so often that Mayer eventually gave up warning me about them - he would pass one and a few minutes later hear me swearing at my clumsiness. For two nights I went to bed with a slight tingling in various parts of my body that had been stung.
It turned out to be a good decision to keep following the Tutaetoko Stream - it was another beautiful day and would have been a shame to spend all day in thick bush. We had to do a bit more sidling to bypass a large waterfall. It was fun to make use of some of the skills I learned from my time rock climbing - there was nothing graceful about it, but it was fun figuring out how to get my short legs up that mighty mountain.
Mayer waiting for me along Tutaetoko Stream.
The bloody spur came just after lunch. Oh, you know, just a 350 vertical metre spur to Point 671. I guess I can laugh about it now that it’s over - the comical way I disappeared beneath the ferns, or how my swearing became my personal locator beacon as I fought my way up to the ridge. The only low point was that log - a giant that fell at an awkward angle that I couldn’t scramble over it, nor could I walk around because of the thick bush that had grown around it. In my exhaustion and the awkward way I tried to climb up had made the bark tear into my already cut up thighs. Let’s just say it was the closest I came to crying on our tramp. When Mayer finally got me to my feet, I began to shake uncontrollably that it took me several minutes to calm down.
On a side note, a week later Mayer showed me a photo of a waterfall we bypassed by taking the route that we did (courtesy of Ranger Ben taken in 2007). He said he would take me freaking out on that log again any day - logs in the forest can’t drown you, and that waterfall looked deep and cold.
No photos of the steep terrain, but here’s some of the massive ferns about my height.
After a lot more bush bashing, we made it to the ridge and had a quick break. Mayer told me keep an eye for track markers and we were surprised how well marked it had been. That didn’t stop me from losing him a few times as I couldn’t always see above the ferns. He had guessed that at the pace we were going, I had to prepare myself that we might run out of daylight. I found a renewed motivation when we could hear the stream in the distance. We made it to Tokenui Hut around 6.30pm.
Here’s the kicker, Mayer found a plastic bin of food in the hut where the rats had chewed through. The floor was covered in rat poo and all over the bench we would have cooked our food. It took about 20 minutes to clean up before we could bring our gear inside. I was so hungry I pretty much inhaled the noodles we cooked for dinner. I was exhausted so it was an early night for both of us. Mayer even said that he heard me snoring.
Tokenui Hut on the morning of day three.
Day 3: Tokenui Hut to Manganuku Campsite
Approx. 8.5km in 6 hours at my pace (somewhere between 4-6 hours I reckon)
After a couple of days with nothing but sunshine, I woke up to the sound of rain on our third day. A hazy light lit up the hut - it was sunrise but we didn’t see the sun until much later in the day. We decided to start earlier than the previous days because I was conscious of my slow pace and the couple of spurs that came between me and our pick up at Manganuku Campsite.
After a quick photo of the hut in the rain, we followed the track markers that weaved us in and out of the river. Happy to say that I only got stung once by the Ongaonga during the river section, but the pins and needles stayed with me for at least three days.
The first spur came mid-morning, at 240 vertical metres it wasn’t the highest that weekend, but being on the third day, became the most mentally draining. Mayer and I came to an understanding that he would stop asking me how I was as long as I could still nod and say ‘thank you’ when he gave me my water bottle. “You’re a good friend Mayer, when I’m not so tired, I know this will become one of my favourite memories. Thank you.” Fist-bump moment!
The last spur was really only 180 vertical metres, and it was more a gentle, sloping horse track. In my head this should have been so easy, it’s what I was used to. Just one foot in front of the other.
Mayer and I stopped for a quick snack by the DoC track sign at the top of the ridge. I smiled when I realised that we were just an hour from the campsite. Just one more hour! I even found my voice again and could feel my body begin to relax as we inched closer to Manganuku. We stopped for a quick photo on the history bridge before meeting up with my Dad at the car park, feeling super grateful that he was driving and not me. I ended up falling asleep, which gave me just enough energy to make the most of the hot lasagne and fried chicken waiting for us at my house.
fivefootronna is Ronna Grace Funtelar - a thirtyish adventurer, graphic designer and writer. A woman with a curious mind who lives for hiking mountains, outdoor adventures and eating pizza. She has a unique brand of optimism that is a combination of her great enthusiasm for life and cups of coffee during the day.