Pakihi Valley

Entering The Pakihi

As we bumped up a poorly maintained dirt road in a small four-wheel drive my host and her two kids all spoke to me excitedly in a familiar langue with a still unfamiliar twist that I struggled to decipher. The road paralleled a winding river on the floor of a valley with steep walls that rose abruptly to sharp ridges which drew in on us as we advanced.  The walls were covered in lush sub-tropical forest sparsely checked with clearings that sported modest houses and grazing livestock. We were greeted warmly as we slowed for a neighbor couple riding barefoot and bareback on horses who said they would see us later for supper. As we drove through the river to make the final ascent up to what I would call home for the next week I couldn’t help but wonder, with much excitement, what I had gotten myself into? 

River crossing and swing bridge

Swing bridge--the only way in and out when the river rises

On the 5 hour bus ride prior, as we snaked our way through the countryside heading south from Auckland, buildings became less numerous and the abundance of natural beauty steadily increased. I smiled as I gazed through the glass at sweeping green paddocks, stands of prehistoric looking fern trees, sapphire blue lakes and gin clear streams. I met my fist host, Maria, who I connected with through International Help Exchange in the small town of Opotiki in the Bay of Plenty region on the east coast of the North Island. Maria lives in the second to last house up the Pakihi Valley, her property backs up to a national park and is boarded by a trout river. I don’t care how hard the work is the location is worth it I thought when I inquired about a visit.

My Hut 

My host's house

And it was. I had my own cabin (or “hut” in kiwi) away from the house, nothing flash but my own space. The workload was light, mostly moving wood or grubbing weeds and my afternoons were free to fish or explore the bush stretching out in all directions from the house. I got two days off to dedicate to chasing trout, Maria packed me a lunch and I put some miles on my new wading boots. A “track” (trial) ran along the river bank opposite the house which provided an easy avenue to get deep in the watershed. The valley was stunningly gorgeous and I was kept in awe marveling at the strange new plants and animals, feeding my biophilic craving. My host spoiled me with kindness, heaping meals and endless cups of tea. My stay in the Pakihi Valley was an entertaining peak at the real New Zealand well off the beaten tourist trail. I won’t soon forget the Valley or the wacky characters that call it home… 

The track upriver

Weka--shy flightless bird once thought to be extinct 

Panga or Tree Fern