Waipāhīhī Botanical Reserve put on a show for the Wednesday Walkers. Photo / Nadia Morten-Lumley
Wednesday Walkers
Last week, we began from the Sea Scout hut beside the lake and walked up through the gulleys to the Waipāhīhī Botanical Reserve.
We moved up through one gully system and then back down through another; it is almost as though they were designed with us in mind.
There is no bad time to visit the Botanical Gardens. The atmosphere is always different and it is always special.
As usual, we commented upon the height of the trees and how, to the untrained eye, it seems desperately unlikely that they could possibly be a problem for aircraft and yet apparently they are deemed to be so.
Most of the reserve is evergreen, but this area beside the loop road has deciduous trees and last Wednesday they put on a brilliant show for us.
One colour really struck home and made us wonder what it was that it reminded us of. Suddenly the answer was found, the leaves were exactly the colour of dark beetroot.
This may not sound particularly attractive but there is no doubt that it was, especially when put among the bright yellow trees that surrounded what we now know to be an acer maple, more commonly known as a red maple tree but what should be known as beetroot maple.
Forever the optimists, we headed off in the fog to ascend Mount Tauhara.
This warrior maunga provides a wonderful backdrop to many Taupō scenes, sometimes cloaked in a top hat of cloud, or iced with a sprinkling of snow.
Māori legend tells of a forlorn Tauhara losing the battle for the affection of Mount Pīhanga, and sadly fleeing northwards with his progress slowed by backward glances towards his beautiful lost love. At the deadline time of dawn, he had only travelled to his present site and so remained forever fixed there.
Today, many can see the silhouette of a pregnant, or hapῡ, woman in the contours of the mountain’s peaks.
Thanks to the generosity of Tauhara Middle 15 Trust and iwi the public can cross the working farmland and access the bush track behind the old water tank that leads to the summit.
Tauhara is an extinct domed volcano that exploded 65,000 years ago with a slow ooze rather than a violent outburst.
Presumably, some of the strange placement of rocks and deep cuttings are due to that energy and lava flow.
The mist lifted a little and from one viewing spot we could see Taupō township bathed in sunshine.
We looked in vain for a soaring kārearea. Bred at Wingspan Bird of Prey Centre and nurtured by local conservationist Tāne Lawless, male chicks were released in the area in 2021 and females in 2023.
A small stream surrounded by tree ferns and moss tumbles down the side of the track about two-thirds of the way up.
The persistent climb came to an abrupt ending with a little slippery mud, and with a final clamber, we were at the trig station; 1088 metres above sea level but with little to see other than misty fog.
Some did push their way through the thick, low-growing, very wet shrubs to the rocky outcrops further along the ridge but no better views were obtained.
How many long-time Taupōites recall the rite of passage and pleasure of summiting Tauhara on a school trip?
Even on this bleak day, there was a smattering of local walkers among those with foreign-sounding accents.
The downward trip was a contrast. No puffing, but care was needed to resist the temptation to hurtle down as in times of old.
We hurdled the last stile and were greeted by our own personal icecream man. A great finish to our morning.
Next week, we plan to walk one of Taupō's many shared cycle tracks.