A gap in the weather

There was a little gap in the weather yesterday. The southerly was still howling but it had run out of squalls to throw down upon us. The sun even came out for a bit. I was going for a run with Caspar, who lives just behind Massey University out the back of downtown Wellington. From the end of his street, like amny streets in Wellington, you can run up a zig zag path into the bush. Central Park near there is a derelict jungle ofhomeless people, weeds and tracks in disrepair.

We headed south along the Southern walkway. Through this wilderness studded with playing fields. I had my map from the recent City Safari, and was enjoying checking out the hidden trails. The Scottish Harrier clubrooms lie at the centre of it all, in a dark gloomy valley. Although not quite looking as disused as the Wellington Harrier Club in the macrocarpas of Mt Vic its not much better than the local tracks, which head up and down facetiously, thwarting all but the most intrepid.

Caspar and partner Nadine are looking at buying a house, so we stopped past there in a hidden valley of Berhampore. If its hard for a Doctor and a Computer programmer paid in US Dollars whats it like for the average wage? Down through some more parks and up a ridiculously steep hill and then the interesting stuff begins. We are at the highest point of Manawa Karioi Maunga Kawakawa and there is a Pouwhenua (sculpture) here overlooking Happy Valley/Island Bay and much more of the Wellington isthmus.

We descend down a rough ridge on the Happy Valley side to a bedraggled looking valley. But what we find is quite uplifting. Community work in action. The valley is an old landfill that is being revegetated. Prestons Gully or Tawatawa Reserve is a long term project developed by the Wellington City Council, the Southern Environmental Association and local residents. It looks great, an informal recreation area surrounded by regenerating wetland and forest. Of course at the moment it is just gorse but the dream is there!

Running back over the hill towards Island Bay we ran smack into another ecological restoration project. The first signs were nice mowed tracks through native bush just starting to deplete its gorse nanny. Then there were some interpretation signs. A story about goats brought in to control banana passionfruit and other weeds in an organic mater, and another about a valley developed as as a seed source for future reforestation. Then when we popped out at the bottom of the hill we found the entrance to Manawa Karioi and the incredible building of Tapu Te Ranga Marae. The worlds largest recycled wooden building, it is a home for many, spawned of the Maori reniassance and anger of the 1970's. It is fascinating stuff. The kaumatua is Bruce Stewart, known for his angry prose and verse as part of the disconnected urban Maori. I have a cherished copy of his book "Tama" that I have had for many years....

Pono

It is possible to quieten me
for a while by blocking your ears
At times I've been buried - hidden
for centuries
but I will always surface
...sometimes with a scream
for there are those
who have nothing left but
their bodies - voices
Take your hands from your ears
hear their screams

I think it is fair to say that the house has many stories to tell. I would like to investigate further in the future...and there are working bees every couple of weeks on the restoration. It had been an interesting run, and we continued it running over Mt Albert and down past the baboons and kangaroos of the zoo and down through the hubbub of Newtown to finish the exploration first time through of another part of Wellington.

The Beauty of Belmont

For the first time in a while I went for an impromptu exploration and Wellington continues to astound me with the variety and choiceness of places to go running.

I headed out on the motorway to Petone and hung a hard left in the middle of the roadworks. The lowest entrance to Belmont Regional Park is in an industrial area. But cross the wooden bridge from the carpark and you are straight into a little gem of a reserve. The lower part of the gorge is open, with the easily sloped track sometimes sidling quite high above the creek. Stock have obviously been removed from the area for quite a while as there are all sorts of ferns and I guess coastal colonising plants. The southerly was howling through here, twisting gusts in a narrow corrider.

There was eagerness in my legs and it wasn't long before I took the LH option at the junction (it was to be a clockwise loop from here) and headed up the western branch of the Korokoro crossing the stream occasionally in the remnant forest. The first landmark was "Baked Bean" corner, perhaps named I suspect for someone who ate baked beans here. The track heads up steeply first then rolls and climbs up in a lovely mixture to Belmont Trig at 456metres above the car.

I was in my amateur (no make that amateurish) botantist mood. Which was great because it was a fascinating botanical journey. I started off the climb contemplating, as I often do in Wellington, how great it is that we have given the bush the chance, through time, to reclaim many of the hills in these parts - and how lucky we are that gorse as a monoculture is a nourisher not a smotherer. I picked out the plucky little natives making headway. Rewarewa, Rangiora and others Penny tells me the name of every time and I forget straight away.

I expected as the hill climbed wI would come out on a grassy exposed ridge. I couldn't have been more wrong. Where I least expected it the forest appeared first in groves then en masse. Predominantly Tawa, but there was kiekie and all sorts of ferns sprawling from the trees. Kawakawa in the darkness below and little clusters of baby lancewoods flourished where perhaps there was a little more light. There was even an ancient and dead Rata trunk ghostly beside the track.

This was great! And the track kept going up, till I sensed we were near the top, and then I realised I was running through a flaming explanse of Horopito, or pepper tree. Penny and I are both into this tree at the moment, especially after our trip to Mt Taranaki which just seemed to have the brightest specimens I have ever seen. Although I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder I do wonder whether there is a difference in the colouration from one location to the other. In a crazy coincidence after thinking about this stuff I was talking with a friend tonight who is going to be helping out with a phd research project looking at whether Horopito colouration is some sort of defense mechanism against herbivores and the research is going to be undertaken is this very spot!!

The trig site is a beautiful spot. A trig, some striking rocks and Horopito with views all around. I feel by exploring this part of the world I am developing a connection with it already. I can see my island from here, but in front of it is the Makara area with its cycling routes and as I swing to the right there is Colonial Knob (an adventure waiting to happen), Porirua with Whitireia Park and the "famous" rock climbing of Titahi Bay, Pauatahanui Inlet which we kayaked across recently (oops story to come!), Paekakariki Hill and behind that the dark mass of Kapiti Island which we look forward to visiting soon thanks to some friends generosity, then Battle Hill, the mighty Akatarawas, Tararuas, down to the Upper Hutt and the Blue Mountain climb, then Lower Hutt and the hills on which Casper and I rogained earlier this week. Then down on the other side of Wainui Road the hills above Eastbourne which we are also quickly becoming familiar with. Wow what country if you're into rough as guts running, mountain biking and exploring!

This place also feels alive. There is energy in them there hills - their ridges form waves flowing from the backcountry down to the urban area of Wellington where their force crunches into the salt spray of the other major influence in this part of the world, the sea. The harbour doesn't cease to amaze me, sometimes a mill pond, sometimes a brutal glimpse into the churning seas of hell. Supernatural Wellington, as the Forest and Bird locals have coined. Bloody oath, this place is powerful.

The track continues down through farmland then back onto some well made single track (how many kilometres of this exists in the Wellington region?). It twists and turns before when you least expect it dropping into a massive flat grove of Tawa in the Eastern Korokoro stream. Now this isn't Urewera like forest but the trees are bigger here, they have been spared and they stand proud. I'm enjoying the running and the track rolls up and down past the Korokoro dam, and then flies down to the earlier junction. It is only when the howling wind faces me in the gorge that my foot remembers to hurt.

Some people get tired from running, but for me a 90 minute loop through those wonders is incredibly energising and I am immensely grateful to those people that have helped create places like these. Lets make many more.

An Introduction to the Akatarawas

I received my introduction to the Akatarawas yesterday courtesy of Mick Finn. Mick has an ongoing reccie project of the area going on and wanted to check out the "runnability" of a particular gorge. Caspar and I picked him up from Moonshine Road and we headed in. The Akatarawas is one of those great wild (as opposed to "wilderness") areas. It contains a spectrum of plantation forestry, regenerating bush and pristine forest, and is criss-crossed by 4WD tracks, old roads and possum hunter trails. To the outside world it is most famous for the "Karapoti Classic", marketed as Australasia's premier MTB event.

We jogged into the forest and found a rough trail into our river. You would be wise to take a map! I couldn't quite believe how beautiful the river was. Crystal clear and placid, eels patrolling many of the pools. The place just seemed healthy. At one spot a stretch of river lay in the sun surrounded by gigantic red beech and a sapling rimu clothed in scratchy green on the riverside. I was impressed. The runnability was good too, although we weren't in too much of a hurry, stopping regularly to check the map and look at the views.

The gorge closed in; tight disorientating bends. Wading, waddling, rambling and scrambling. A pair of ducks flew away as we approached each time heading further and further up the river. At the tightest point there was a log jam Mick (with his penchant for naming things) named "Bus Stop". From which forthwith it will forever be known. Quickly the gorge ended to strange slopes of Eucalypt and union with the Karapoti course at the bottom of Dopers Hill. I can't wait to check this out on my (make that "a") MTB. After emptying the shoes we headed up Rimu Spur and back over to our carpark. Great run!! Thanks Caspar for the photos.