Waitakere This Way

The sign at the information centre indicated that in the 19th century, the Waitakere Ranges – an area encompassing more than 50,000 acres of native rainforest and coastline to the west of Auckland – was logged close to extinction by early European settlers. It wouldn't surprise me one bit though if, in my half day's worth of exploring, I did damage equivalent to twice that amount! Ok – I'm exaggerating. But if you saw me in action – dislodging rocks as I scrambled up and over, fracturing low-hanging branches as I clung on for dear life, single-handedly reshaping small ravines as I slid down their slopes of slippery wet clay – then you might see where I'm coming from. At the rate I was going, continuing on might have been considered a crime against Mother Nature.

I mean the the walkway started out pleasantly enough. How intense could a walk through be if it shared its entrance with a golf course? Definitely fooled me! As I walked alongside my friend Masha on the gravel path through the rolling mown-grass hills towards the soft murmuring of the Waitakere Stream, I was quite excited to be joining her on her 'work project' to observe and tag the native robins in the park range. But as the suspension bridge that had led us over the stream faded further and further away in the distance and we veered into the bush, I noticed the pathway beneath me get muddier and muddier with each step. The totara, matai and miro trees became progressively larger. The sun increasingly dimmer. And I, increasingly slower. I saw snails passing me by, merrily going about their way while smirking at my mud caked feet.

As I winced from yet another sting of the tiny scale-like rimu leaves brushing against my cheek, I whispered to myself: who am I kidding? I'm not made for this! Up till about a couple months ago, my idea of the getting close to nature was frolicking about at Sheep's Meadow in Central Park. The rainforests of New Zealand... barely a blimp on my radar.

'Are you alright back there?' Masha's voice came from up over the cliff.

'Yes, I'm alright,' I replied under uneven breath, a silent plea for help.

As I gratefully grabbed onto my friend's hand and tumbled on to the rock, oh-so-(not)gracefully, I felt relieved for the moment's rest. My eyes followed her glaze outward into the distance and in one instant, the strenuous trek from only moments ago faded. The hike up was definitely no hop, skip and a jump on the subway up to Central Park but then again, the view was no New Yorker building either.