If you went down to the woods that day, you were sure of a big surprise. If you went down to the woods that day, you would have seen lots of guys. Why? Because the bears took to the Kaimai Ranges for a bit of a tramp! Leif Wauters spins a tale in the hope that Kiwis will get out and see more of the stunning country we live in.


We set out at noon from the jammed parking lot nestled between the lush toes of the slope we were about to climb. Nine bears, the Fellowship of the Fur, on our way to conquer the Kaimai Mountains’ Wairere Falls. Although all accustomed to hiking and lovers of our verdant Kiwi landscape, we were also guilty of resting on our laurels. It was high time for us to have a good ol’ camp tramp.


We left my home in Te Aroha and wound along the range for 10kms to the falls, then (with our packs loaded with water, snacks, cameras and the like, we took up the trail. It’s not a steep ascent by any means, but it would have been all the more challenging if the mind-numbing days of rain hadn’t finally broken. My partner and I had been caught hiking there in the rain once before – when the water worked its way through the thick foliage, the utter wetness was unforgiving. This time the sun was shining and except for a few minor mud pits, the path was firm and inviting. 


We obviously weren’t the only trampers exploring the falls that day, but for all the cars in the lot, the path wasn’t too congested and most everyone we passed greeted us with respect. Of course the sight of a bunch of big, bearded guys charging along the often-narrow trail must have been intriguing. One woman mentioned during our passing that we looked like brothers. “We’re cut from the same cloth,” was my reply as we bowled through, leaving the math to her.


What really made me giggle later in the day was when an older gentleman hiking ahead of us stopped to see what was approaching. “I thought there was a bunch of women behind me,” he said with a bewildered brow and a forced smile. Unable to let it drop, I replied “No, but we do cackle a bit,” pushing on with a grin.


The overall trail is a diverse blend of stretched Earth, well-integrated planks, and boulders – lots and lots of steeply stacked boulders – with the main route broken into two distinct sections. The first bit was to the quaint observation deck about half way up (or about level with the base of the falls) and the other was the gruelling, yet relatively quick ascent to the top. 
Our first segment was really quite gorgeous and diverse, with the touch of man both evident and helpful. Brief, sturdy bridges carried us over the raging waters a couple of times. On the way up we stopped at each one for a few deep breaths and swigs from our canteens. Oh, and pictures. We were catching the valley at its most swollen, yet accommodating state. It was a choice time to capture its beauty and so many gigs of greenery were recorded that day.


Once we reached the deck we stopped for obligatory posing with the wall of water behind. We also needed to charge up with some well-earned snacks for what was ahead. Hikers we’d passed had said that although the winding path to the mid-way point had taken just over an hour, the rest of the route to the golden view would be less than half that.


Uh oh! Dividing how far we had to go into the suggested time meant we were in for one hell of a climb and from the very first steps onto the second leg it was on! Up and up and up some more. It wasn’t a superhuman feat, but the mud packed into the crevasses of our shoes meant it was necessary to watch every step along the steep trail that allowed little pause. We could hear the roar of the falls drift around the ridge, but as we rapidly approached the top it returned and shortly after the track flattened out we hit the creek that fed the mighty 153 metre-high water feature. 
Tucked into the edge of the falls was a small outlook from which the emerald Waikato Plains opened up below, but we had to be quick. As the frigid water leaped from the cliff it was being pushed back by hefty winds, super-cooling our over-heated bodies with each spray. It didn’t help that as we posed in pairs we were pulling up each other’s shirts for a breath-snatching thrill, but it was all in the name of giggly fun.


After a quick bite of lunch we stream-rolled back down to the valley floor in less than half the time it took to ascend. There wasn’t much more to see along the return, plus there was the promise of cocktails waiting at our place to round out an afternoon of adventure and friendship.


This little jaunt was one of the countless outings available to each and every one of us who inhabit the Godzone. Sure, it was devoid of the comfortable cafés and casual urban rituals that normally absorb our weekends, but we really do live in an exciting and accessible place which it behooves us to enjoy. Try to escape your postal code and explore when you can, for wild times await those willing to break for a little camp tramp.

| Leif Wauters