FIVE FOOT RONNA

View Original

Rogers Hut via Moerangi Track in Te Whirinaki Pua-a-Tāne

Late afternoon at Rogers Hut.

How to get to the start of the track

Whangatawhia (Skips Creek) Hut and Rogers Hut (Te Wairoa) are along the Moerangi Track in Whirinaki Te Pua-a-Tāne. From Murupara, drive towards Te Waiti on SH38 and turn right onto Okahu Road. Sections of SH38 are gravel, as well as Okahu Road. You don’t need a 4WD, but the road can be rough in some areas and there are plenty of potholes.


The start of the gravel section on SH38 on the way to Ruatāhuna.

Day 1: Rogers Hut (Te Wairoa) on Moerangi Track (4.5 hours)

I stopped by at Volk & Co to grab a takeaway soy mocha for the drive to Te Waiti. Early mornings usually meant fog on the roads, and I had plenty on the way to Murupara. There was some lingering fog as I hit the gravel section on SH38, but the morning sun was actually more of a hazard, especially on the corners. I felt a sigh of relief as I turned into Okahu Road.

The 35km Moerangi Track is shared use for MTB and trampers. For MTB, the ride starts at Okahu Road and ends at River Road. Trampers can walk the track in either direction. I walked in/out to Moerangi Hut from River Road last year, and geez that was a big hill! The great thing about this section of Moerangi Track is that it’s mostly cleared of roots and runs alongside the river. It was incredibly peaceful walking on my own.

Somewhere before I reached Whangatawhia (Skips Creek) Hut, I came across the only people I met on the track that day. It was a group of five that had stayed at Rogers Hut the night before. One of the men in the group stopped for a chat, asking if I was walking in on my own. I sure was! They had met four women on their way to Moerangi Hut earlier, but being a Sunday, there was a high chance I could have the hut to myself. Lucky me.

This had to be the cruisiest tramp I’ve had in a long time and I often found myself lost in my thoughts. How grateful I was to have stumbled into something so soul-enriching in a different season of my life. I caught myself smiling at the curious pīwakawaka (fantails) that kept me company on my tramps. They are known as the forest gossip after all.

By the way, if you don’t want to walk down to the river to top up your water, there’s a lovely creek behind Whangatawhia Hut. You can also admire the beautiful Rimu trees behind the hut.

Lunch at Whangatawhia Hut (Skips Creek).

I was probably 15 minutes from Rogers Hut when I heard it. It was so loud that it actually stopped me in my tracks. There it was again. Definitely a roar. Not close enough that I could hear it moving through the bush. I’ve seen deer in the bush before, most of the time I’ve spooked them before I realised they were there. Sometimes I get lucky and we’d awkwardly eyeball each other before they run off.

Just as I predicted, I had the hut to myself that night. It was already pitch black outside before 6pm, but I sat outside a bit longer to listen to the whio (blue duck) swimming somewhere in the river by the hut. I didn’t hear any kiwi, although I did hear a ruru or two (morepork).

I don’t sleep well in huts, and I’ve only been alone once. That was at Motutapere Hut, and I was so exhausted after an eight hour day that I was surprised I even managed to cook my food. This time however my brain was super alert and would turn CSI with every twig breaking outside. Is someone outside? No, too delicate, it must be a possum. As much as I know possums are a pest, I’m not sure I have it in me to twack one we had a standoff. So I stayed in bed, wishing I had brought earplugs so I could get some sleep. 

Then it happened, it sounded like that damn possum had chewed through the Beech slab walls ready to fight me. Thank goodness I was alone because the noise that came out of my mouth, well it wasn’t pretty. My heart was racing and I literally slapped myself in the face to calm down. Trembling hands finally found my headtorch and lit up the hut. There was no possum. It took a few more hours of restlessness before I could see light start to come through the window.


Day 2: Walking back to Okahu Road (4.5 hours)

My morning coffee went down too quickly, but I resisted making another. There was rain expected on the walk out, so I wanted to pack up and hopefully beat the rain. It turned out to be quite light and I didn’t even have to put on my rain jacket until I got to Whangatawhia Hut. Oh yeah, I actually stumbled onto that stag on my way out. It spotted me first and was well on its way up the hill before I even realised. It roared a few more times before I lost sight of it.

I spotted two whio on the walk out - one in the river and the other on the track. I was walking along part of the track that crossed a small stream. The young whio was just about to jump into the stream when we eyeballed each other. My focus had been on the remnants of an old collapsed bridge nearby and it didn’t occur to me that I would see one this close. It quickly ran and hid upstream amongst the fallen stumps and . I had never been that close to a whio before, so that was pretty special.

Being a Monday, I didn’t think I would come across any other trampers. Hunters walking in, maybe. Suddenly I heard the sound of dirt bikes. I looked up and three were on their way up. Turns out they were doing track maintenance, mainly to clear windfall up to Mangakahika Hut. That was another three hours' tramp from Rogers Hut. I told them that the track was clear, at least until where I had come from. They too were trying to beat the rain.

It was still overcast when I reached the car park, but I did beat the rain. Actually, it didn’t rain until I reached Murupara where I stopped for some chicken and chips for a late lunch. Which seems to be my post-tramp food lately. Though I didn’t feel I walked enough to really enjoy it. I did however enjoy the nap afterwards - a full tummy and the sound of gentle rain, that nap sure was glorious.


Ronna Grace Funtelar is a 40-something desk-fit creative, weekend explorer and cheese enthusiast in Whakatāne, New Zealand. She has a big butt, chunky thighs and shakin’ more jelly than Destiny’s Child. Her creaky knees discovered an appreciation for Type 2 adventures in the bush and mountains in her thirties, and she’s been hiking ever since.

Liked this blog? CLICK HERE to donate a coffee today.