Lost highway

Sarah Heeringa follows the footsteps of her forefathers. Plus: 20 great New Zealand walks

Picking out a cattle trail of old, Sarah Heeringa goes wandering in the wilderness on Auckland’s doorstep

Above: A storm blows in to the west coast’s Karekare Beach, south of Muriwai and Bethells. Photograph by Ted Scott

It’s the holidays and we could all be lying under a tree with a pile of books. Instead, several sisters and I, plus a gaggle of our children, are setting out to retrace the old stock route our grandfather used to take. Once upon a time our grandpa Harold had farmland at Waitakere’s Bethells Beach and more at Muriwai. From time to time the need for fresh grazing would lead him to drive the stock over the hills through neighbouring farms in order to reach his other property.

If you’ve made the long and winding country drive from Muriwai to Bethells Beach, it’s suprising to find that, as the crow flies, these two iconic black sand beaches are less than ten kilometres apart. And looking at the flash new bach-mansions springing up on the west coast hills, it’s hard to envisage driving a herd of sheep or cows anywhere around here today.

It takes a similar stretch for my kids to imagine the bustling urban sprawl of Henderson as a sweep of lush orchards. Heading west down the major Lincoln Road highway, I’d pointed out the little wooden Presbyterian church their great-grandfather once helped build. Even 50 years ago it would have been a building of significance; now it is swamped by mega-stores, car yards and ignominious drive-ins.

The cliffs plunge down to black rocks and pounding surf. The Hillary Trail snakes around the slope just below us, offering unimpeded views of the ragged rocks and cliff edges and out over the Tasman Sea. It’s a classic, wild-west coastal scene of poetic proportions; windswept and entirely uninhabited

After consulting with uncles to establish the route and asking permission from the various private landowners, we’re finally ready to set out. The mustering party would have been up at dawn to pack supplies, saddle the horses and feed the pack of faithful farm dogs needed to keep the mob of cattle together. Our fairly rigorous preparations—a camping breakfast then hats, water bottles, sunblock all round—are augmented by our dad turning up with a box of fresh doughnuts.

Starting at Muriwai and heading south, we soon pass the teaming gannet colony on the cliff’s edge. Takapu, as these seabirds are known in Maori, lay a single egg during the latter months of the year. Once hatched, chicks stay in the colony until late summer before migrating to Australia. About 1,200 adult pairs return to Muriwai each year.  

For some of the way, our walk follows the new Hillary Trail—a 70-kilometre trek connecting an existing network of tracks and backcountry campsites. Described as a ‘back to basics tramping experience’, the trail takes trampers through the Waitakere Ranges, past the Arataki Visitor Centre, Huia, Whatipu, Karekare, Piha, Anawhata, and either winds north to Muriwai via the Te Henga (Bethells) Walkway, or through Cascade Kauri Park and on to Swanson. Tramping its entire length takes around four days and three nights, and encompasses hilly terrain, dense rainforest and exposed coastline. By all accounts, it’s exceptional.

A gannet colony in a storm at Muriwai. Photo: Ted Scott

Because we’re thinking like cattle drovers today, we’re less interested in exposed coastline and more in safe, flat fields. The cliff edge is where you get the best views of birds, sea and wind-tossed grasses, but it’s not somewhere you’d want to head with 50 excitable animals. We’d have to stay high above the swamp and streams, my uncle warned, to avoid getting stuck in the quicksand.

Photos: Sarah Heeringa

Following the farm track, we wind our way up the rolling hills south of Muriwai. Over on the left the cliffs plunge down to black rocks and pounding surf. The relatively narrow Hillary Trail snakes around the slope just below us, offering unimpeded views of the ragged rocks and cliff edges and out over the Tasman Sea. It’s a classic, wild-west coastal scene of poetic proportions; windswept and entirely uninhabited. Further on we spot a couple of tiny black dots on the white-capped swells—surfers looking to catch a ride.

By now the sun is gaining strength, but thankfully we descend to the Te Henga valley, where there’s a cool freshwater stream to ford. Heading inland, we splash barefoot along the stream’s shallows, winding around the base of Bethells’ huge black sand dunes, now glinting hot in the sun. Occasionally the kids make an energetic dash up the sheer face of a dune, but they soon come screaming down again to dunk their burning feet in the water.

Our smaller walkers are starting to tire, but it’s okay because we’ve reached our destination—the cool familiar interior of another farmhouse. We gladly troop inside for an expertly brewed cup of tea and more of those doughnuts. Revisiting history has never been as pleasant or civilised.  

We’ve knocked the bugger off. Next trekking challenge: the Hillary Trail.

The Hillary Trail is named after Sir Edmund Hillary in recognition of both his achievements and his connection with Auckland’s west coast. Anawhata beach was a particular favourite of Sir Ed. The trail is suitable for experienced trampers and those with a high level of fitness. It was officially opened by Mayor Bob Harvey on January 11, 2010. Bookings can be made by phoning 09-366 2000 or visiting the Arataki Visitor Centre on Scenic Drive