March 24: Auckland and surrounds

Previously: March 23

Rangitoto was not cancelled.

We started our day with a simple breakfast, namely the frittata we’d purchased yesterday and peanut butter on the bread buns. No coffee, but what’s an adventure tale without some suffering on the part of the protagonists?

Shoshanna set an alarm for 7 so that we’d have plenty of time to eat and walk down to the ferry terminal. After all, what better plan than to begin a day-long hike with an hour of walking? We arrived with time to spare, and even enough time to hit a Burger King for coffee. Pro tip: If you’d rather just have acceptable coffee than barista coffee, the big fast food chains are a good alternative. Still pricey by North American standards, and the “large” size is only North American small, but a bargain at only about 2/3 of the price.

One of the neat things about Rangitoto is that it’s one of New Zealand’s native species preserves, so they’re making a strong effort to stamp out the invasive wildlife that came with Europeans, which is a formidable task. Problems include the Argentine ant, which is causing problems worldwide, various species of skink (especially the rainbow skink), the usual rodent suspects (including one rat that arrived at the island on/in a baby stroller), and sometimes various pathogens or seeds that come ashore in the mud on your boots. They take the problem seriously enough that they are aggressively killing off the intruders wherever they can (there are poisoned traps scattered everywhere on the island), but not so seriously that they go beyond a lecture on what to look for and a request that everyone brush off their boots with a scrub brush installed by the gangway to remove any soil before getting onto the ferry. For example, there are no boot inspections before you board the ferry, and no inspection of backpacks—not even a few random samples—to look for hitchhikers.

Crossing to Rangitoto was easy, as the seas were calm, and the ferry’s catamaran hull let it get up a quite respectable speed, so only about half an hour on the water. The weather forecast was a 20% chance of rain, and a light drizzle began about halfway on our walk down to the ferry terminal. It returned sporadically for the rest of the morning. Apart from the humidity, it wasn’t particularly onerous—not bad enough to force us to put away the camera or put rain shields on our backpacks.

Rangitoto is one of those “surprise” volcanoes that just pops up out of nowhere with little warning. About 600 years ago, the Maori living on Mototapu Island woke up one morning to find a new island growing beside their home. Rangitoto is a pretty little volcanic caldera, a bit bigger than Mount Eden (see March 22 for details) but essentially on the same scale. It’s about 260 m tall, so a significant but not really horrible climb, and lots of lush forest surrounds the cone to provide some shelter from the sun. The guidebooks describe the island as an egg in a frypan, and that's a good description. As in most volcanic slopes, there are seemingly random areas where a combination of mineralogy and topography have prevented forest from becoming established. There are frequent nice views out over the islands in the sea surrounding Auckland, and of Auckland itself. The morning views were a bit hazy, but by afternoon there was more sun and a bit of a breeze sprang up, so the haze cleared and the views became quite lovely.
We reached the summit around noon, just in time for the rain to intensify briefly, but fortunately there was a shelter. So we ducked inside with a bunch of other hikers, and had our lunch (salami and cheese sandwiches and a bunch of trail mix) standing. By the time we were done, the rain had cleared and never returned. So we sat for a bit, enjoying the view down over the distant ocean and savoring the sense of accomplishment at forcing our reluctant bodies to persevere. We circumnavigated the caldera’s rim, but the Department of Conservation hadn’t cleared away any trees to permit a view down into the depths, so it was mostly noteable as a forest walk.

On the way down, we stopped at a lava cave, which was disgorging a bunch of twenty-somethings who’d gone in to the end and returned. From their description, it seemed that it would require way too much stooping and crawling for our taste. Lots of bending and stooping and worming through tight spaces. We were feeling our age enough that this wasn’t attractive, so we gave it a miss. Our main cave experience will be in Waitomo, in about a week, where the caverns are larger and more spectacular. We continued our descent, passing through various pleasant patches of forest, including a gully that contains the rare “kidney fern”, which we’ll need to look up to ensure that we actually saw it. None of the signs showed a “this plant is what you’re looking for” image that would have helped.

Back at the wharf, we discovered that the public toilets were out of order, but the kind ranger staffing the information desk let Shoshanna use the staff toilet, despite there being only enough water for a couple more flushes. (Their water resupply had not yet arrived.) We had a nice chat about their conservation efforts, and bonded over birding. He had a couple of black-backed gulls that overwintered on the island, unlike the others, which left for warmer climes. So he struck up a bit of a bond with “George” and his family, including this year’s shrilly needy kid, who was still hanging around demanding to be fed. I told him how my first job had involved hand-rearing kestrels and marsh hawks. We agreed that even birds had personalities.

We finished our hike with a stroll along the island’s southern shore, which was where illegal settlers had established “bachs” (basically, weekend holiday homes) of varying degrees of squalor and primitiveness built from local rock and whatever scraps came to hand—with, inevitably, a few that had been purpose-built from shipped-in materials and were more luxurious, for small values of luxury. Rather than fighting over the legality of these homes, the government "grandfathered" the settlers, but warned that their leases would end when they did. The settlers, not being fools, transferred the deeds to their homes to their youngest relatives, so it may be some time before the last of the bach's is shut down.

The “beach” is rugged lava flows with only bits of sand here and there, but it’s lovely in its bleak way. (If you've followed our blog since Hawaii, you'll recall how endlessly fascinating we find lava. We made sure to head back to the wharf with plenty of time to spare, because there’s a limited number of ferries per day, and if you miss the last one, you’re going to be either sleeping on the ground overnight, or calling a very expensive water taxi to come retrieve you. (This being the 20th century the island is close enough to Auckland that you’re still inside the cell phone network.)

From the ferry, another hour or so walking home for a shower before dinner. Mostly uphill, which is something you notice more at the end of a long day. We stopped at a liquor store for a bottle of beer (Cooper’s Stout—more a bitter to my way of thinking), but still quite nice. Beer is a marvelous cure for dehydration and heat. As a brewpub in Milwaukee noted, "ale's what cures ya". We shared it on the porch of our room, comparing notes on the sad condition of our feet, which were lobster pink and in quite revolting condition after being cooped up in hiking boots all day. Sharing a beer while comparing the wretched state of one’s feet is probably peak couple.

Dinner was at Galbraith’s Alehouse, a brewpub that both makes their own beer and hosts “guest” beers from other microbreweries. I chose their Bohemium Pilsener, which was deliciously crisp and clean. Shoshanna had their “tropical pale ale”, which was described as “an ale that wanted to be an IPA, but didn’t quite make it, so they backed off on the hoppiness”. Both excellent. I had a luscious and tender roast beef—possibly the best I’ve ever eaten—with gravy and horseradish, plus Yorkshire pudding, and Shoshanna had a venison and mushroom pie, with a rich gravy that tasted like it was based on a red wine reduction. Both were exceptional, although hunger from a day’s exertions undoubtedly helped us appreciate the food.

We finally made it home around 9, which means that apart from breaks to enjoy the scenery or eat, we’d been on our feet most of 12 hours. Good preparation for bigger hikes later, we’re hoping.

Tomorrow, the rental car agency will come pick us up at the hostel, and then we’re on our own for transport for the rest of the trip.

Next installment: March 25