A Bonnetful of Bees

We turn off SH 16 at Restall Rd, just south of Woodhill School, and drive in to the crossroads, then right down Boundary Rd a kilometre or so to the bikes carpark.

“I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree” – Ogden Nash

Nature Valley. Hmmmmmmmm.

I’m a bit short on time and also on fitness right now, so I decide on the first half only of the Short Loop Track.

We head out through the car park gates and across the road. Despite all walkers being compelled to park here, there is no signage indicating to a newly arrived walker where to find the start of the track, nor even any obvious indicator that a walking track exists. Nor has there been anything in the way of signage between here and SH 16.

Across the road is a wooden gate, and a white marker post left over from Forest Service days. That’s all you get.

The rope climbing course next door is gradually expanding, and in the last year has encroached on and fenced off some of the next section of track and we are left to make our own way from this point until we pick up the track again a hundred metres or so further on.

We pick up the track again as it heads up a sandy gut.

Dry as it is a few ferns find a foothold on the sandy bank.  Some straggling Muehlenbeckia can also be seen.

I’d normally expect to find this one, Asplenium flaccidum, hanging off a tree trunk or overhanging branch.

For nearly two years this gut was choked altogether by debris from felling, and even now, a strictly minimum effort has been made in the direction of track construction. There is however

a sign dating back many years. If you’re looking for the Biological Reserve, it’s not all that helpful, but it seems like the general idea is that one heads left.

For nearly two years the sign languished, upside down, on the heap of cutover pine debris we have just passed.

The next generation of pine trees is just showing through

We bypass another heap of debris blocking the old track

and find ourselves on a pleasant track that skirts the edge of the pines.

Soon enough there’s another treefall to find our way around, and to reassure us that we are in fact still on the walking track, there is another white marker post just beyond.

We carry on through the pines across to Walker Rd.

An historic stile beside a wide open gate draws us across the road to follow some more marker posts to the forest.

Here we join what is fairly obviously a quadbike route for the next section. Usually horses are expected to stay away from these routes, for safety reasons, but nobody is perfect.

It’s mostly pine and pampas grass, but here and there a second layer of plants is making a precarious home. Here is a young Pittosporum tenuifolium. Some young mapau, Myrsine australis, can also be seen, but no more than a foot or two in height for the most part. Remember that in addition to the pine tree canopy, we are also looking at soil which is nearly pure sand. Anything making a home in these circumstance has to command a certain admiration.

Coprosma rhamnoides and Muehlenbeckia are also common under the pines, but it’s territory I can bypass without a great sense of loss.

Of some interest is the kaihua, or Parsonsia heterophylla. This is much more common and a good deal more vigorous under the pine trees than I have ever seen it in native bush. In this area of forest, the vine is in full flower in February.

Further north at Lake Kereta, the flowering period is around August. We visited Lake Kereta the other day and found only seedpods. (Do not confuse this plant with the kapok vine, whose flowers, though similar, are twice the size, and whose seedpods are the size of a medium lemon. The leaves bear a slight similarity also, but the kapok vine is more of a silvery grey green.)

The juvenile form has longer, thinner, somewhat serrated leaves. You can see both forms in the picture below.

We carry on, veering around parallel to Selwyn Rd for a short uphill stretch, and just across the road, here we are at the Biological Reserve. Fatman time from the carpark, just on 42 minutes.

It’s a gentle grassy slope uphill, and beginning to re-establish its scrub natives after last years’ terrible dry when instead of a bank of green shrubbery lining the track you could see through it for 40-50 metres.

A young rewarewa (Knightia excelsa) overhangs the track. As we head to the southern end of the track these will become the dominant cover. The leaves here have a sooty covering whose nature I am unsure of, but it reminds me of the mould that covers manuka at times.

This is another in the collection of small, round-leaved, divaricate shrubs that pose problems for the novice botanist. In this case we are looking at Corokia cotoneaster, or Korokio. If it’s flowering, its tiny yellow star flowers will differentiate it from most lookalikes. The leaves are spathulate (spoon shaped) and have a blue cast missing from its coprosma, muehlenbeckia, and lophomyrtus companions. It typically has a red, or occasionally yellow, berry.

Here are kanuka (Kunzia ericoides) to the right, and mingimingi (Cyathodes juniperina) to the left. Several different plants carry the name mingimingi. This one tends to be found in slightly drier conditions, and it’s berries are single, ripening to sometimes red, sometimes white and sometimes pink.

A houndstooth fern, kowaowao, (Microsorum pustulatum) is re-establishing against a harsh and dry reminder of the dry summer last year. (Caution is nearly always indicated in providing Latin names for New Zealand ferns. They have been subject to extensive research and re-classification in the last thirty years. For accurate and uptodate info on these, refer to http://www.nzpcn.org.nz)

We head on up the hill

I’m not sure what to make of this. Has some Bikeparks maintenance person placed this white marker to the side of the track to indicate that we should walk around the debris? Too hard just to remove it? Ours not to reason why. We take the indicated detour.

Here are some green berries on a Cyathodes juniperina. (I wonder whether anybody has attempted to flavour home made gin with these.) A well-known New Zealand publication, A Field Guide to the Native Edible Plants of New Zealand by Andrew Crowe, advises that these berries are edible. Reality: they are dry and chalky and tasteless and 90% of them is made up of a central stone. There’s actually not much in the New Zealand bush that I would call “edible” if it comes to that. The most I would say is that some plants are not actually poisonous.

Hence my guarded enthusiasm when I see the occasional cape gooseberry springing up alongside many tracks in the Waitaks and elsewhere. And right now, come to that, the Ian Wells track has a heap of ripe blackberries to be had, but we shan’t go there. Not today anyhow.

Down to the right are some Dianella berries – belonging to the long thin leaves, not the small round ones. These range in colour from a silvery grey through luminous violet-purple to deepest indigo. They are just so unlike most New Zealand plants in their appearance they are always startling.

Not as clear as I would like but here are some Coprosma rhamnoides berries, most green but some ripening to dark reddy purple.

A koromiko flower has an intense white colouring which I fancy derives from its pale blue cast. Remember when mum used Reckitt’s Blue in the laundry for whiter whites. You can still get it at most Indian groceries around Auckland.

There are many Hebes to be had, and many just locally for that matter, but I’ve never been able to get my head around a simple way of distinguishing among the pale lavender to white ones.

Another hardy, and fairly drought resistant shrub along here is the houpara, or Pseudopanax lessonii.

I have recently discovered some excellent resource materials available free on Bushman’s Friend website. Tony Foster prepared a series of slide shows when he was a teacher to help his students differentiate species inside genera such as Coprosma and Pseudopanax, which can often be troublesome.

Another short detour is indicated.

Young rangiora (Brachyglottis repanda) are common along here, with a few larger specimens just past the Old Lookout.

Here is a Carmichaelia (New Zealand Broom) in berry. Just a year or so back one of the more impressive pieces of botanical clumping I have ever seen took place in respect of this genus. Some 27 different species were stripped of their individual status and gathered together as Carmichaelia australis. It was determined that the wide variety of forms could be accounted for by soil and climate factors, and while it was recognised that the species was on its way to differentiation, this had not happened yet. So we can generally now say “Carmichaelia australis” and nod authoritatively, for at least a few more years.

and here we are. Not that there is very much to see here at all, at least as far as a breathtaking view is concerned, but we do stop to take a breath or two. Originally quite a pleasant spot for a picnic it has become steadily more overgrown in the last few years and you just about have to fight your way onto the mound that hosted the cottage.

Of interest here is an adult Lophomyrtus obcordata, or rohutu. Obcordate leaves are heart-shaped, but attaching to the stem by the sharp end of the heart. They are typically a little more leathery and in younger plants more glossy than similar Coprosma species. Their flower is like a small white gum tree or pohutukawa flower.

The adult trunk is characteristic with its peeling bark.

Just along from here is something I have rarely seen, though in truth they must be common enough: kohekohe berries.

Now here is an example of the way in which different species depend on one another. The kohekohe depends for reproduction on its berries passing through the gut of a bird. One of the few birds, if not the only one, with a throat capable of swallowing one of these giants is a kereru, or native pigeon. Much the same applies to the pigeonwood and tawa. No pigeons. No reproduction. Kohekohe is also vulnerable to possums. It’s a beautiful tree. Worth some effort to protect its environment

We head south through the Biological Reserve. A mahoe hosts a clump of Fragrant Fern, Microsorum scandens. I have to admit I have never been able to access any fragrance from these leaves, either as they are or crushed.

Here we have the opposite of an obcordate leaf, the kawakawa, Macropiper excelsus. Whatever feeds on this must do so at night. I have never found any insect or caterpillar on even the most obviously chewed plants.

Those of us with a culinary bent should keep an eye out for this plant in areas where it does not have total protection. A leaf crushed and plaved in the bottom of a mug provides a refreshing drink with boiling water poured over, and its chopped leaves and especially its flowers provide a peppery resiny flavour in a casserole which is well worth exploring as an alternative to black pepper or chilli.

As we get further down the track, kawakawa will play more and more of a part in bordering the track and even encroaching on it. Not a problem except when it’s raining. Kawakawa leaves get surprisingly wet.

We carry on.

Here’s a korokio, with some of its berries ripening to yellow

and here’s a Coprosma rhamnoides with its characteristic scruffy look, as if it’s never owned a hairbrush and should have

We carry on gently downhill, picking our way through, past or around fallen branches. There’s a spell here before we get right down to the bottom where the bush is open, with not a lot of canopy to speak of, mainly somewhat leggy mahoe and shrubby rangiora.

Then the surroundings green up and seem to have a somewhat more reliable water supply. Kawakawa takes over as the predominant shrub, and rewarewa and a few puriri begin to put in an appearance.

Suddenly we have a tui in full, rich mellow song. Alice is enchanted. I’ve watched this often with her. She’ll stop and sit, her head slightly cocked, just listening and trying to locate the source of the sound. Reminds me a touch of that wonderful scene in Wind of the Willows, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.

At the bottom of the slope is a bench and a lookout, across the pines and southwest to the coast. Even on the clearest day – and this is not bad at all – there’s always a sea mist

Just here there’s a big old puriri, its trunk scarred with holes from hosting the larvae of the puriri moth. Once, several years back, we arrived here just after they’d all hatched, and in each hole was a huge and empty chrysalis.

Many years ago, when we had an outside toilet – a flush toilet, but sited off the verandah rather than in the house – we were woken one night about 1 am by hysterical screams. One of these moths – about 5cm across and covered in thick velvety fur – had found its way into the bowl of the toilet, and had been disturbed in its rest by my mother, who was in turn disturbed in hers by the moth. We found it on the wall of the toilet when Dad investigated.

Onwards. The variation in track name can be confusing to a new chum. In fact Rangatira Beach, the name given to the stretch of coast north of Muriwai, is the least likely destination for somebody coming past this way.

From here, the track continues to descend, quite sharply in places, but with something of a roller coaster quality to it as we cross several ridges. We pass another kohekohe. These trees are unusual in that they bear their flowers – and berries – directly on the side of the trunk or of a large branch rather than at the end of a branchlet or spray.

And yes, there are pigeons around. We disturb several in the course of our walk.

Several sections of path indicate the presence of feral pigs. I’ve often seen these areas of disturbed soil, but never a pig to be found. I suspect I’m quite happy with that.

We hit the bottom of the track and begin to wind our way back up the hill. Vegetation is predominantly coppiced mahoe with a kohekohe and kawakawa understorey, and of course, big kanuka, often more than 30cm in diameter.

Here and there are signs that another invader is busy establishing itself – tobacco weed.

Kawakawa is encroaching on the track considerably through this section

Another fern thriving in apparently unlikely conditions.

A closer look at the dead leaves tells you that rewarewa are now a significant part of the canopy.

Nothing serious yet, but brushing through scrub, even light scrub, has never really appealed to me. Maybe the advertising revenue from one of the many billboards we are forced to look at in the carpark could be diverted to pay the wages of a suitable track maintenance person.

Even given the neglect the track overall has suffered, wear and tear in the pine forest area near the carpark indicates that there are still plenty of people using it.

We carry on.

and on.

I’m getting a touch peckish and I swallow some water. Lunch at the stile, I reckon.

I quite enjoy the light gradation between blue and yellow when sunlight is shining through kawakawa.

Cape gooseberry! That’s one exotic species I approve of.

We open out along here, with some good views out to the coast here and there, and a generous helping of pampas grass along the edge of the track.

Hangehange berries.

Lunch. From the start of the track, fatman time has been a touch under two hours.

We hang a left. It’s even shorter if we turn right, but it involves a somewhat steeper climb and a bit of scrambling.

Just around the corner, the Long Loop Track forks off to the left and we continue around to the right.

About a hundred metres further along, we are presented with three options. To the left is the walking track,

to the right is a horses only route, and dead ahead is a quadbike and walkers track that takes us back to Selwyn Rd in a hurry. That’s the one we take today.

Just along the way a little we come across some Muehlenbeckia in flower. Without flowers to distinguish this small round-leaved divaricate plant, if it scrambles over things it’s almost certainly Muehlenbeckia.

Back through the pines we head, towards the road.

There’s not a lot to distinguish one section of pine forest from the next, or the last.

Here we are at Selwyn Rd, which we cross.

We head over to Walker Rd, following the quadbike track along the edge of the cutover forest.

Down the road we head, to join the track we came out on.

As we approach the gate at Boundary Rd, I happen to glance up and spot a couple more white walking track markers making their way through the scrub to the Bikepark shop. If it’s a track, it’s not a well-used one.  Most people seem to hang a right and go in the main gate to the carpark.  Maybe the idea is that information about the start of the walking track is only visible if you take the trouble to park outside the shop.

Catch you later for the second part of the trip