Bush School 2

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Jun 6
5 min read

Location: Kaimanawa Ranges

Date: 16th - 18th May 2025

Author: Zoe Millward

Friday 16th May

When I saw everyone's packs on the clock tower stairs I felt a sense of fear that I was going to be very cold. My metal pot strapped to the outside of my pack looked limp and pathetic compared to the genius idea of a cast iron skillet. Chatter was amongst the group as we divided ourselves between the cars, and excitedly got on the road.

After a mandatory pit stop for food in the glorious Hamilton, we made our way to Waikoko Valley campsite where it was a mad dash to get our tents set up to escape the cold.

Saturday 17th May

In the early morning we woke up and packed up as quickly as possible, all buzzing for the adventure we were about to embark on. The trailhead was beautiful, with trees and blue skies framing its entrance. We were divided into two groups, one going ahead and the other staying behind to work out the compass. You wouldn't think that using a compass could be so complex with it being a seemingly simple device, but as a group we managed to do everything before getting the right answer.

We plodded along the trail to the summit, some faster than others. The smell of the bush air was magical compared to the city air. It felt crisp. The bush in the Kaimanawas is beautiful, with mushrooms growing everywhere, an ecology-nerd's paradise for photos. When we reached the summit the views made the uphill feel like a distant memory. We all gathered around, eating in a contented silence, staring at the distance we had just climbed.

Once we had settled into the rocks and sheltered from the wind, it was announced that we were going to split off into groups and navigate our way down the mountain - without the instructor's help - through the bush. Not the trail bush, but bushwhacking. As someone who has never experienced veering more than half a meter of the trail, a task involving ‘whacking’ was daunting. My group walked along the ridges, climbing up high points and slowly plodding our way down the mountain towards the tree line. Once we reached the tree line it was deer tracks, thick bush and the ridge peeping through the gaps in the trees. We were told to follow the ridge, and we began our trek down. As a group we called ourselves the ‘Big Blue Bum Bohangoners’ because that's what we were. Sliding through mud and moss on our behinds, making our way down the slope at great speed. I would describe bushwhacking as an art; you have to problem solve your way around things, calculate your steps so as to not end up in a gully, and hope for the best because it's definitely not an easy task.

Once we made our way out of the bush, not before sliding through the water at the end, we made it to the river. We were one of three groups who made it, the other group was having even more of an adventure battling the bush. It was time to dive into river crossing skills. We linked our bodies together and crossed the river, getting our sweaty boots and socks drenched in cold river water. It was a thrilling experience really, rushing water and the trust that the people next to you wouldnt topple over into the river. Thankfully, nobody went for a surprise swim.

Setting up camp was quick, but what wasn't quick was starting a fire. Wet wood, and little confidence from the group doesn't help when you're trying to get sparks flying. Those who claimed to be fire experts, were humbled very quickly by the roaring flames of nothing. No fire. Until, the secret solution was used. Going into detail would be giving away the bush school experience, but just picture a dragon blowing full force into some wood and WAH BAM the fire was lit. Lit in every sense, it was so cold and the warmth was very much appreciated.

Steak dinner was cooked (with copious amounts of butter), along with some chargrilled broccoli stem, a burnt weetbix and camembert that had been ever so slightly melted and then dropped onto the ground for some extra flavour. A Gordon Ramsay dining experience for some, and a burnt weetbix for others. It had been a good day outdoors, so sitting by the fire, eating, singing and laughing was the perfect end to our adventure.

Sunday 18th May

Waking up after a night of rain and condensation is not the most pleasant feeling in the world, especially when you’re faced with wet boots. After comparing who had the most drips on their face overnight, we began on our way out of the Kaimanawa ranges. As a hoard we hauled ourselves up the mountain and towards the treeline. As the slowest member of the group, being on the top of the ridges in the rain and wind showed me the force of nature. How small our problems can seem when we are faced with something so much more powerful than ourselves. It was definitely hard but I'm glad the weather decided to throw a challenge at us, because it made getting to the treeline, and then to the car even more rewarding. Going down the same path we had come up the day before felt very full circle, same level of excitement but more satisfaction.

Once we had gotten down to the carpark, it was interrogation time. One of the bravest trampers on the trip, had hauled the biggest pack we had ever seen for a one night tramp. It was, in the great words of Ricky Baker, a very ‘skuxx’ pack to bring, due to its colossal size. It ended the trip on a note of laughter.

We all congregated at the Turangi hot springs, each group getting their very own private pool. When I tell you that this was the best feeling in the world, you can't even imagine how good it was. Imagine the smell of fresh bread, freshly cut grass, a cold pillow and that feeling when you eat something after being so hungry all squished into one and going directly into your muscles. That's how good it was to get into the warm water. The tramping club knows how to end a tramp impeccably.

Our last stop was the Tokoroa kebab shop. We all ordered a delicious meal and sat around a big table, feeling very content after the hot springs. Everyone shared their highlights, lowlights and things they had learnt over bush school. I loved hearing how everyone experienced the trip. Once I had reflected, I realised that I had learned a lot not only about the bush but myself as well. I learnt that it was okay to feel uncomfortable and it was okay to struggle, because it's something that you will get over. Especially when there are cool people around you to help. It was a perfect way to end the trip, after getting to know people and spending time with them without the distractions of phones and real world responsibilities. It felt very free, something you can never really find when you're in the city. We said our farewells, but not goodbyes because everyone is most definitely locked in for caving!

Thank you to Martin, Will, Janelle and Emi for being amazing instructors, and teaching us so many valuable bush skills. I'm sure we all look forward to tramping with you in the future! :)