I’ve never camped in a forest before, so that was a cool new experience. Camping by the stream was surprisingly loud, about as loud as rain falling on an iron roof. My bivvy shelter is basically a glorified mosquito net (weighs less than 500g), and quite the gamble knowing I was in the Kaimai Ranges and rain was in the forecast. Luckily the rain held out until the next day and I had a pretty good sleep.

I was listening to the Moreporks when light suddenly flooded the campsite. At first I thought it was the family that was camping next to me, until I saw it was coming from across the stream. Who’s crazy enough to be running at night in this terrain? I’m pretty much blind without my contact lenses (I don’t wear them when I’m sleeping), so I just saw blurry lights moving through the trees. One of the runners even took a second look at my bivvy and shone the piercing light into my eyes. I later found out on the Kaimai Tracks and Hut Users Facebook group that it was a small group of trail runners passing through the early hours.

Usually I like to be up by 7am, but I was tired and found myself drifting in and out of sleep. Hunger got me up around 8.30am and I sipped on my coffee with sleepy eyes. The sky above the Panga trees was a dirty grey - I was ok walking in the rain, I just didn’t want to wake up in a soaked sleeping bag. I was almost packed up by the time the family headed off - they said they were aiming for Te Rereatukahia Hut, the one above Motutapere Hut. Knowing how late I left and my pace, there was no way my knees would have made it to that one.

On day two, it was about covering distance on easy terrain, but day three were river crossings and undulating terrain. Rain in the Kaimais mixes with your sweat in a way that slipping over while crossing streams is actually a relief from the sticky, salty coat on your skin. I hoped that the rain would make it cooler, but it only made the forest even more tropical.

The multiple crossings at Kauritatahi Stream were certainly interesting. Big boulders always test my knees and patience, so I was surprised how much I did enjoy that section. I found the markers easily enough, but it was slow going getting over the boulders. All that river crossing experience in the Urutawas definitely paid off.

After the last river crossing, I came across a nice little campsite. There was some wet ash by the firepit, so I guess there were people there not too long ago. A nice pile of wood even sat waiting for the next guests. It was only after I sat down that I started to feel a bit cold, so I popped on a jacket before tucking into my cheese and salami. That’s when I saw the wooden steps winding their way up the hill. Ooooh, let the fun begin!

Even though I’ve tramped solo many times before, this was the first time I probably would have appreciated seeing even just one. I wasn’t exactly tramping in a storm, but the relentless rain was making the track a muddy mess. Going uphill was ok, but downhill was getting harder on the knees as the day wore on. Fog hung around like a dog’s fart but was never thick enough to make it hard to see where I was going.

The wooden steps and ladders were a nice mental break from battling the rain. It was also a convenient place to sit down and enjoy a different perspective of the forest. I take my hat off to whomever built them - that terrain isn’t easily accessible by helicopter and those were solid pieces of timber.

When I eventually came out of the bush, the rain had eased enough to see glimpses of the sun I had barely seen all day. It took me a few minutes to get my bearings when I came to Thompson’s Track - there was no mistaking this was a 4WD track. The clay earth was carved up in unnatural canals that weren't all that pleasant to walk on. Luckily the track was deserted because there wasn’t a lot of room to get out of the way if a truck came zooming past. I came across two lovebirds sitting along one of the tracks and asked them if they knew where the North-South Track connected to Thompson’s. The woman pointed ahead of me, and with a squint, I too could see the orange marker taking me up the hill.

The view from the hill was lovely, a good place to catch your breath before you tackle ‘that section’. I’m talking about a solid ascent at 45° for at least 50m, maybe more. Some sections even reminded me of an MTB track, just the way it was cut. It was a good challenge for the glutes, that's for sure.

I must have been tramping at least six hours by this stage, and exhaustion was starting to set in. The track heads back into the bush for a bit with plenty more stream crossings, which was lucky because I was getting low on water. After the bush section I came onto the exposed ridge, greeted once again by thick fog. I had to laugh at how comical it must have looked to see my head bobbing along the long grass - it was like an emo version of the Sound of Music. Some of the blue markers got trickier to spot, but I just put that down to the fog and being vertically challenged. I bet this would have had stunning views in better weather.

It was between the Kauritatahi Hut junction and Motutapere Hut that I really struggled. A section that should have only taken about an hour, took me almost two. The rain had made the narrow and rooty track much harder going than it really should have. That’s the reality of solo tramping - when you tackle a track, you have to know the limits of your mental fortitude, not just your physical ability. What got me out of my head was seeing a buck run off down the hill - there was just something about it that gave me the energy for the final push to the hut.

I arrived at the hut around 8pm, around 10 hours since I set off from Poupou Stream. Two long days in a row had started to take a toll on my knees. The swelling from the day before was only getting worse, but fortunately still no cramps. I spotted the fireplace and there was plenty of firewood, but decided it wasn’t cold enough so I didn’t light it in the end.

Motutapere Hut was another first for me - the first backcountry hut I had all to myself. Was it scary? Not really, much like Poupou Stream, you’re just more aware of outside noises. It was actually the best sleep I had on my trip.

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.