At Cherry Island, the less deep side of the river which is parted by the island was running very low indeed with banks of shale only a few centimetres below the surface.
Cherry Island itself betrays nothing of the wonderland it used to be.
The children who were the last to enjoy the animals and trout nursery will by now be adults.
It seems strange that a town that is a centre for tourists has allowed this superb setting to fall by the wayside.
After climbing the cliff, we watched the bungee jumpers who tumbled from their bridge in a steady stream, there seemed to be no shortage of people brave enough to take the plunge.
When we got to Spa Park itself, it was damp and misty with very little going on, but the atmosphere on this early spring day was delightful.
The small flying fox, which used to be always buzzing with little human foxes, like Cherry Island, has been mostly taken down and abandoned.
This is probably due to safety concerns but it seems sad to spoil all that fun that was had for so many years.
It had rained all morning and only perhaps half of our usual walkers made this trip. We were all glad to have braved the weather.
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Monday Walkers
Have wheels, will travel, and so this Rāhina we were off to Smash Palace.
The travel time passed quickly.
We chatted, marvelled at the speed with which the foresters had cleared up the cyclone-broken pine trees, admired newborn lambs and peered at the foothills of the volcanoes and the dim outline of the Chateau through low rain-threatening clouds.
Soon we were at the Horopito end of the Ohakune Old Coach Road and donning our packs.
For almost a century, this treasure was overgrown.
Restoration work began in 2002 and continued for nearly a decade, and it is now a popular walking, running, and cycling track.
Recreation aside, it is also a place to see great feats of engineering and roading and to imagine the hardships of working people in the early 1900s.
Originally surveyed by John Rochfort in 1884, it was a bridle track upgraded to a dray road and, in 1905, upgraded again to a coaching road to provide a transport link for freight and passengers between the unconnected north and south railheads.
What a difficult working life; living in tents, sleeping on bush vine bunks, foraging for food, using picks, shovels, and wheelbarrows in one of the coldest, wettest areas of the North Island.
Then the indignity of a few years later having one’s upgrading work superseded by railway builders and a railway line!
A speedy construction that was another story of hardship, death, engineering brilliance and political expediency.
Today, after a short walk through native bush and over uneven cobbles or rock setts, we reached an open area where we could see the remains of the Haeremaere Bridge.
Huge concrete piers, unspanned and curved to minimise flood damage, reach fruitlessly up from the river. After safely crossing the main trunk line we were back in bush and soon at the derelict Taonui viaduct.
This 35-metre high, 140-metre-long bridge never followed the old trail and nowadays is a blocked-off bridge to nowhere.
A monument in steel which still looks graceful and at peace with its surroundings.
The track winds on through bush which includes rimu, tawa, mountain cabbage trees, kahikatea, mataī, tree ferns and even a giant rātā strangling its host.
We didn’t hear many birds, but we certainly heard a very large freight train thunder along the rail track.
Along our route, we could see holes in some granite rocks ready for dynamiting and quarrying.
Next stop was the Hāpuawhenua viaducts.
The older bridge was once the poster child for NZ Rail and amazingly took only 10 months to complete.
It had a unique curve because of the difficult landscape, which unfortunately contributed to its demise as it did not suit modern locomotives.
Once decommissioned it fell into disrepair, but reopened in 2009 as a boardwalk.
Quite a scary walk, looking down almost 45 metres.
Below is a sheltered stream where women bathed after childbirth and above are the towering limestone cliffs of the Raetihi Hill.
The new concrete bridge is a little taller and can transport heavier loads faster.
We braved the dark and made our way to the end of the Mole, an obsolete, disused tunnel unsuitable for electrified, and somewhat loftier, trains.
The latter part of the track is through a more open landscape with sweeping views across farmland.
A great walk and an interesting glimpse into our history.
Next week, we have a shorter hill climb planned.
If you would like to join us, or for more information, please email walkersmondaytaupo@gmail.com or follow us on Facebook at “Taupo Monday Walkers.”