Pahāutea Hut via Tirohanga and Maraukura Loop in the Pirongia Forest
Views like this aren’t easy to come by, and you definitely have to earn it in the Pirongia Forest.
How to get to the start of the track
There are many tracks that lead to the Mt. Pirongia summit. The Tirohanga-Maraukura Track Loop starts and finishes at the Grey Road car park. The car part is next to the Pirongia Forest Lodge. The road is sealed all the way.
Some adventures don’t always go to plan, and in the seven years I’ve been solo hiking, this one takes the cake! I had been on a road trip in the North Island performing poetry and had a few days up my sleeve in Hamilton before my next gig, so I decided to head to nearby Pirongia Forest. I parked up at the Grey Road car park (by the Pirongia Forest Lodge) with the intention of an overnighter to Pahāutea Hut via Tirohanga Track then walking out on the Maraukura Track the following day. If you want to do the loop, start on the Mangakara Nature Walk from the car park, then look out for the Ruapane Trig Lookout connection track. According to the DoC website, it’s easier to walk-in via Tirohanga Track, and I would have to agree with them.
Pahāutea Hut is about 30 minutes from the 959m Mt. Pirongia summit. Unfortunately there was thick fog at both times I went past, so I don’t have any photos of the views. It’s a 20-bunk bookable hut with several campsites nearby. There are multiple tracks that lead to the hut, so check out the DoC website for up-to-date track conditions. The terrain was often a challenging steep scramble, rooty with glorious thick mud that leads to incredible views (when the fog clears). Being in the middle of winter, the sooner you accept the bog, the quicker you’ll move past it.
Seeing chains took me back to my rock climbing days - these were handy both going up or down the boulders.
Lunch at Ruapane Trig at 723m.a.s.l.
There are chains on parts of the track (before and after the trig) - these definitely came in handy as the rocks were slippery from the rain. It took me back to my rock climbing days, and these short legs did have to tap into some short-girl-beta. If you’re a scrambler like me, take extra care that you don’t grab onto the pockets of gorse or cutty grass hiding in the bush - damn, that shizz hurts!
I stopped at the Ruapane Trig for lunch - my Havarti cheese and crackers going down a treat. Behind me I saw the dark clouds that I would be walking towards, fortunately rain didn’t catch up with me for another hour. On the DoC website, the hut takes about 5 hours, but looking at my watch, I knew I was walking at a slower pace. The steep, undulating nature of the track was quickly depleting my desk-fit reserves. Walking in the dark wasn’t ideal, but I was prepared for it, part of me sometimes even enjoys it. It took me about seven hours to get to an empty hut. A little spooky in the wind and rain, then again, they do say Pirongia is the land of the patupaiarehe (the fairy people).
There’s no heating at the hut, which would have helped to dry my muddy clothes. Fortunately, my -5C sleeping bag did stand up to the cold and I even found myself being woken up to my own snoring at times! Apart from the typical midnight toilet run, I did get a somewhat cosy hut sleep.
Mobile coverage: I’m on the OneNZ network, and the best mobile coverage at the hut were by the toilets (up to 4G).
This was maybe a kilometre before the Tahuanui Track junction - I thought it was really pretty and couldn’t help looking back at the view.
My boots were covered in mud by the time I got to an empty Pahāutea Hut.
Knowing I was moving slower than DoC’s track estimates, I made sure to have an early start the next day. The hut was surrounded by fog, no sunrise to take in anyway. It would be another hour before I saw any signs of the sun that day. I wasn’t worried, I knew the forecast was good, I just had to wait out the fog, and by wait, I meant slowly make my way down the mountain.
Water sources: I didn’t come across any water sources to fill up along the Tirohanga Track until I got to the hut. Bring enough water for your needs.
Pahāutea Hut on day two.
From the hut, I made my way back to the summit, then onto the Maraukura Track junction. It was a white-out at the summit lookout, so I didn’t even bother climbing the ladder to check out the views. The track was even boggier than the day before due to the overnight rain. The next couple of hours was a lung-busting scramble up and down the rooty and steep terrain, or fighting through mud.
It was somewhere after the junction and before the Wharauroa Route turn-off that I started to feel sick. It started with minor stumbling in the thick mud, or walking into logs and branches. I had to stop more frequently, and at times took much longer to catch my breath. I pushed on. But the stumbling and clumsiness got worse. I pushed on…until my body hit the wall. I was still over 800m.a.s.m, and I had to make the call if I could safely get myself off the mountain. My ego said yes, but every part of me said no.
I sat down and took out my phone to call my partner. He didn’t pick up. It was Tuesday midday, he was at work. I called again, still no answer.
I also have a PLB (personal locator beacon with me), which I highly recommend for anyone venturing out into the backcountry. Once it is activated, it will let emergency services know that I needed help as well as my approx. location. If the price puts you off, you can rent one before you head out on your next adventure.
After a few minutes, my phone started ringing. It was my partner. We talked over my symptoms. I hung up, took a deep breath and called 111. It took a couple of hours from my initial 111 call to be winched off Mt. Pirongia by the Waikato Westpac Rescue Helicopter. What was my hesitation calling 111? In emergencies, the helicopter is a vital service and I didn’t want to take away from another potential rescue, unless I was 100% sure I needed them too.
Inside the Waikato Westpac Rescue Helicopter.
The view on the way back to Hamilton Hospital.
“Are you sure you’re ok for us to lift you up from here?” I gave Simon a nod, he was the Critical Care Paramedic on this flight). The helicopter downdraft was too loud for anything more than instructions. Getting winched off a mountain is a surreal feeling - you’re hanging in mid-air with a glorious bird’s eye view of the mountains, then suddenly realising you’re there because you’re on your way to a hospital. The helicopter landed on a nearby hill to pick up the stretcher - they must have dropped it off earlier. Simon checked my vitals and I talked him through my symptoms before I made the 111 call.
Simon swapped my helmet and safety glasses for some earmuffs. “Have you got your phone handy?” Simon asked me as we were getting ready to fly back to Hamilton Hospital. I fumbled around my jacket and nodded when I felt its familiar shape. “You might want to text people back home that you’re ok, they’re probably worried. Plus, the views are awesome, you’ll want to have your camera for that.” He was right, the views were lovely. The adrenalin must have worn off on our flight back to Hamilton Hospital because I suddenly felt exhausted again. I let myself sink into my chair and watched the Pirongia mountain disappear from view.
A massive thank you to the Waikato Westpac Rescue Helicopter team that day - Simon (Critical Care Flight Paramedic), Mo (Crewman) and Sam (pilot). You will always be legends in my book - thank you for your care, skill, and professionalism that makes this service so vital for our communities.
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.
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