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It's not until the end of the day when the Blissful Hiker enters a magical forest preserve of towering Cathedral-sized Kauri does she realize here is precisely where she needs to be in this moment.  

In this episode: 

1. The Blissful Hiker awakens to a cacophonous symphony of birdsong, puts on her muddy socks and shoes and walks right back into soul-sucking mud. 
2. A walk across a farm and road walk take her to a hamburger.
3. A rainy night at Apple Dam teaches her how to pack up a damp campsite.
4. Trail angels and curious sites keep her company on an easy walk. 
5. A sidetrip to see magnificent Kauri remind her that she is exactly where she needs to be – walking the Te Araroa. 

MUSIC: Poema del Pastor Coya by Angel Lasala as played by Alison Young, flute and Vicki Seldon, piano
available on iTunes

A symphony of birdsong awakens me in the Raetea Forest, a cushion of grass my mattress and just enough water left for breakfast. My shoes and socks are caked with the stuff and I’m putting off placing my feet in them for as long as possible. Out of the forest, through a farm, then onto road. This is one of the major complaints about the Te Araroa. 

It’s really not that bad as the road slowly climbs up, the Mangamuka Dairy right at the top of this hill. Apple Dam Camp is another wide grassy spot in the bush and it rained all night long. Waking up in rain is absolutely depleting. Ask any thru-hiker and they will likely tell you that it’s not the rain itself that’s the problem – it’s packing in rain. 

I pass pastel colored bee boxes in uneven stacks, buzzing workers swarming the white flowered manuka nearby. A slow moving vehicle crawls closer and two hunters lean out to ensure I take the right turn at the next fork. Even though it’s midday, I pose my standard question, “Do you have a beer you could sell me?” 

Only moments to the end, I break off from the rest and take a detour to Manginangina. This moment here, right now is magic, holy, like walking into a cathedral. Muir Woods of Australasia.

Aside from needing to find water and places to camp, the “getting there” aspect was pretty much absent. My walking became an act for its own sake. The continuous, rhythmic perambulation, and my own company and observations, brought me to the present moment of my feet very simply walking on this earth. 

And you know what? That’s precisely why I came here.

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