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Climbing every mountain
Climbing every mountain
![Te Rua Manga](/sites/default/files/2022-07/Te%20Rua%20Manga.jpg)
In 2021, while working for New Zealand Doctor Rata Aotearoa, journalist Zahra Shahtahmasebi won a national health journalism scholarship to look at the challenges facing rural health. Last month, she travelled to the Cook Islands to get started
“Just a few days ago, a tourist was rescued from this very place after getting stuck up here for nearly 24 hours”
On the days I wasn’t interviewing, my goal was to see as much of Rarotonga as possible.
My first totally free day came on the Tuesday of my second week, and I headed off to hike the Raemaru Mountain trek, a 1.8km out-and-back trail.
I caught the anticlockwise bus from town to the start of the track, which sits just behind a small grocery store called the Friendly Mart. Ever the tourist, I had my day pack on and the bus driver watched me closely as I got off.
“Don’t get lost,” he warned. I laughed and assured him I wouldn’t.
I was at least true to my word – I managed not to get lost, which, for me, is a pretty remarkable feat. Raemaru is a relatively easy track that inclines steadily up the mountain, and in some ways reminded me of the Signal Hill trail in Dunedin.
That was until I got just below the summit and came face to face with a rock which had a long, knotted rope hanging from it.
There was another hiker who had arrived just ahead of me, who took one look at the rope and the rocks, and conceded defeat.
Another hiker who had just come down from the summit and his partner watched me as I edged closer to the rope. They asked if I wanted them to wait for me, but I waved on, telling them I’d be fine.
They disappeared along with the other hiker back into the trees and I turned to face the rock face, rope in hand. What I hadn’t considered until that moment was the downpour the night before which had left the rocks still damp from the rain.
I stared blankly forward, not knowing really where to begin, but the determined part of my brain took over and I started to climb, using the natural footholds and the rope to get up. It was slow going as the rocks were slippery, and my movements uncertain.
I finally got to the next landing point and tried to catch my breath, turned to appreciate the view, which made my heart race even more, before turning back to tackle the next stage of the climb.
As I stood on one of the metal rungs that had been set into the rock, trying to work out how I would make it to the next one, it was here I remembered the story Dr Deacon the surgeon had told me during our interview the previous day.
He said that just a few days ago, a tourist was rescued from this very place after getting stuck up there for nearly 24 hours. I took another look at the rung, the rocks slick with rain, and decided it wasn’t worth it – I definitely did not want to show up in front of Dr Deacon not even 24 hours after hearing that story. Feeling slightly deflated, but also knowing I’d made the right decision, I worked my way slowly back down, vowing I would come back and make it to the top.
As I wandered back onto the main road, a bus drove past and it just so happened to be the driver who had dropped me off a couple of hours earlier. We made eye contact, and he gave me the thumbs up and a big smile – presumably pleased that I had made it back in one piece.
My second chance at Raemaru came on Friday. The weather had been iffy – raining lightly on and off all morning, but I saw a break in the clouds, the sun appeared and off I went.
It was like a completely different walk. The rain had not been heavy enough to permeate the track as it had a few days earlier and I felt as if I made it to the rock face in no time. The rocks were dry, and I clambered up with ease, feeling very mountain goat-ish. It was almost astonishing how much easier it was to get up when it was dry!
Once at the top of the rock, the trail flattened out into a plateau covered with scrub and bush. There was a trail, but I somehow lost it and ended up trampling through the bushes, trying my best to avoid the spiderwebs that spanned tree branch to tree branch. There was a small clearing where you could see breath-taking views of the island from all angles, and I decided this must be the “top”.
Sound travels surprisingly well – from a height of 357m, I could clearly hear some sort of sporting event going on down at the high school as well as a couple of dogs barking.
I trekked back down, feeling very stoked with myself, and keen for my next challenge, the Cross Island walk.
The Cross Island walk had been high on my itinerary since arriving in Rarotonga and goes from one end of the island to the other. The recommendation is to go from the north, starting in the capital, Avarua, and ending up south, at Papua Waterfall.
My interview schedule and the weather meant Saturday was the only day for me to get it done. But the universe was on my side – after spending the morning souvenir shopping at the markets, I was gifted a beautifully sunny afternoon in which to do the walk.
I had been cautioned against doing the walk alone, which kept threatening to throw my resolve, but I decided to give it a go, with the caveat that I would tell people where I was going and turn back immediately if things started to look sketchy.
But as I say, the universe was on my side that day.
As I walked to the start of the track down the back roads of Avarua, I heard what sounded like my name. Thinking it couldn’t actually be my name I chose to ignore it, until I heard it again. I turned to look and to my complete surprise saw a man standing on the roof of a house waving to me.
Let me backtrack a little. After my failed Raemaru attempt I headed into town to treat myself to lunch when I ran into a couple I know from Christchurch, neither of us having any idea the other would be in the Cook Islands at the same time.
Now, totally by chance, I was walking right past their house. They called me over and said I should come back for dinner after finishing my walk, an offer I gratefully accepted.
The walk itself was beautiful and not too challenging at all. It started with a steep track through lush green forest and again, people told me I would get lost, but the orange trail markers were easy enough to follow. After 30 minutes I reached the base of Te Rua Manga, the Needle, which has a chain to help you make your way up the side of the rocky spire.
The chain came to an end at a little rocky plateau, so I perched there, but not too close to the edge which was giving me vertigo every time I looked over it. I took in a breath and marvelled at my surroundings – I could see all the way to the coastline, which is where I’d walked from. It was the kind of sight I could sit and look at all day and I took a decent break here and refuelled with a couple of snacks.
The descent down the other side was slippery, as others had predicted it would be, but I was surprised to find I didn’t slip over once. Reaching the waterfall and having a refreshing swim was the perfect way to end the walk.
From the waterfall I made it back to the main road, and hitchhiked (for the first time!) back to my accommodation, just in time to meet my friends for dinner. After completing two hikes on my own in as many days it was safe to say I was feeling very pleased with myself!
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