I don’t how many remember late September, but it seemed to pour with rain morning, noon and night for weeks. Peter Wortman had us organized for the usual Whatipu circuit, but the question was: would anyone turn up? Would we even get there?
But twelve hardy (foolish? misguided?) souls reported in at Takapuna and off we went.
At Little Huia, the foaming brown floodwaters swept over the ford. Pierre, in command of Sybil Goose, forged ahead.
At Helen’s suggestion, we shortened the tramp to finish at the Donald McLean road end. Up to the lookout we went (no views) then down Puriri Ridge Track. Then down Kura Track to Whatipu Stream.
Then the fun started. Never before have I seen the Whatipu Stream in these conditions.
At first glance the rapidly moving, flooded river looked impassable, but Rod set forth to test the waters. “It’s not too deep,” he told us. So we grouped up into threes and practised our river/stream-crossing techniques. Once … and again … and again … and again …
At the bottom of the valley we waded across flooded fields to the road and down to the equally flooded Whatipu carpark, where we shared the shelter of a barn with students who were waiting for a lift home after spending the night in the caves around the coast.
We went up the Omanawanui and Puriri Ridge Tracks and were back to the bus by four pm, after the club’s wettest and slowest Waitakere trip for some time.