Travel
Track Suited Nicola Edmonds gets lost in the King Country – but in a good way. NICOLA EDMONDS IS A NORTH & SOUTH CONTRIBUTING WRITER. PHOTOGRAPHY BY NICOLA EDMONDS.
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O
n our way to the Forgotten World, somewhat north of Ohakune, my internal compass loses its bearings. Google Maps also seems confused, despite a functioning connection to the Wifi gods. Neither can tell me the way to Taumarunui. The “place of abundant shade” at the tip of the Forgotten World Highway, appears to be already casting its spell. Ian Balme was duck-shooting
Above and opposite: day 1 pedalcars.
when he stumbled upon a way to share the area’s isolated beauty and distinctive charms. Through the trees, he saw an overgrown stretch of decommissioned rail line, which sparked the idea to adapt golf carts as a novel way to ride the rails. Five years ago, with just three staff, he began his venture. Since then, the Forgotten World Adventures team have, literally, carted more than 22,000 visitors over their trails. Some of those who visited stayed on and established their own
businesses. Former Aucklander June Nevin bought and restored an historic convent in Taumarunui, which she has since re-opened as bed and breakfast accommodation. She was concerned she would be viewed as a “Jafa” (Just Another Effing Aucklander), looking for a cheap retreat. But the locals welcomed her with open arms. In Taumarunui, we receive the same welcome. The town may not have been touched by the property boom, but it is warm and friendly. NORTH & SOUTH | SEPTEMBER 2017 | 107
Nevin’s neighbours apologise for parking their pony on the footpath. We are here to experience a twoday adventure that will take us along a section of the once prominent railway route, wending between dark tunnels and abandoned outposts, along with a jet-boat ride on the mighty Whanganui River. For us, the Forgotten World rail trail begins at Tokirima, 33km south of Taumarunui. The small, white Tokirima schoolhouse was opened in 1910 and currently 108 | NORTH & SOUTH | SEPTEMBER 2017
has a roll of just 12, but, when the position of principal was advertised two years ago, there was stiff competition for the post. Our vehicles are lifted on to the tracks and we are given a quick lesson on how to drive them. The company had the custom-built jiggers constructed for visitors in search of a more energetic excursion; a pedal-powered alternative to the petrol-driven golf carts. Our jiggers are made for function rather than style. A gear-
shift handle and hand brake are set beside reclinable plastic seats. With picnic lunches stowed, our trail-mates, a boisterous bunch of Aucklanders, set off at a cracking pace. We remain stationary until an expert explains the hand-brakes must be released to achieve forward motion. My co-pilot is an intrepid mountain biker, but I soon realise I was deluded in thinking at some point I could put my feet up. With 100kg of steel to shift, besides our own weight,
a constant team effort is required. Before long, we reach the cool gloom of the first of 10 tunnels along this section of the trail. The bright morning sunshine is reduced to a pinprick behind us, and then disappears. Apart from the grind and whir of the steel wheels, there’s no sign we are still anchored to the ground. I nervously reach for the brakes as the cart gains its own momentum. My companion, somewhere in the dark beside me, calls for full speed ahead – trusting
the laws of physics will prevail. Between tunnels, the track unfurls across green expanses of rugged farmland. Actual human activity, however, is a rare sight. We pedal alongside settlements that are no more than a handful of houses and a scattering of old cars. However, there is evidence of what was here before. Amongst the lilac, honeysuckle and sprawling blackberry bushes that border the tracks, are grassed-over platforms, testament to the once busy life
Opposite page: day 1. Pedalcars. This page top row. Top left and top right: shot from a pedal car on day 1. Centre left and right: shot from a gold cart on day 2. Bottom. Left: shot from a golf cart. Bottom right: shot from a pedal car. “We pedal alongside settlements that are no more than a handful of houses and a scattering of old cars.”
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Opposite page: day 1. The Whanganui river. Above: Our pilot and guide, Alan Blackburn, was a farmer until he was hit by “a sudden rush of blood to the head” that persuaded him to get into boating. There seems to be a daredevil component to his genes, and his tiny grand-daughter, who joins us for the ride, has inherited the same taste for thrills.
Parts of the 23km boat trip offer a full-immersion experience. Alan executes a few drenching, 360-degree circuits to make sure we’re awake.
of this historic length of railway. Begun at the turn of the century, the line connected Stratford to Okahukura, a distance of 142.6km. It was originally built to transport the rich reserves of coal and native timber extracted from the area. Tunnel building was a risky business back then. One of the many dangers was a potentially lethal contraption, which randomly flung lengths of chain at the concrete cladding on the tunnel walls, knocking loose sections 110 | NORTH & SOUTH | SEPTEMBER 2017
that were unsecure. The human crew, following on foot, had to dodge and collect the debris. We re-join the rest of the cavalcade for lunch at a trackside tin shed. As we gobble sandwiches and homebaked cakes to refuel our straining muscles, some concern is voiced about the lack of cellphone coverage. It seems ironic. The silence and splendour of the location is part of the beauty of this place. Cellphones aside, everyone is unanimous about the thrill of the tunnels and the
occasional down-hill stretch. Back on track, we set our calf muscles and knees to the task at hand. From this point, the trail leads up through steep and silent ravines. The dark mouth of the final tunnel at Tuhua is the zenith of our slow and sweaty ascent. With a span of 1525m, it is New Zealand’s sixth longest tunnel. It took eight years to complete. It’s like a ghost-train ride – a long, dark corridor punctuated with alcoves set into the tunnel walls,
faintly outlined with a strange chalky luminescence, a reminder of the travails of those who built the tunnel more than a century ago. At Okahukura we leave our hefty steeds for a short bus ride back to Taumarunui, before taking to the Whanganui River for the next part of the adventure trail. Three days before, the Te Awa Tupua (Whanganui River Claims Settlement) bill was passed, which established a framework to recognise the river as a legal entity. This will be my first experience on the river, and its exceptional
strength is evident, even though this introduction is by speed boat. Our pilot and guide, Alan Blackburn, was a farmer until he was hit by “a sudden rush of blood to the head” that persuaded him to get into boating. There seems to be a daredevil component to his genes, and his tiny granddaughter, who joins us for the ride, has inherited the same taste for thrills. There are gleeful shrieks as she urges him to greater speeds. Parts of the 23km boat trip offer a full-immersion experience. Alan executes a few drenching, 360-degree circuits to make
sure we’re awake. Along the way, there are waterfalls cut into fern-dressed banks; a grey heron swoops low as we zigzag through the roiling rapids before reaching long stretches of glassy calm. The afternoon of our first day winds up far above the river, at a lavender farm, where we toast our trip with a glass of wine; the heady scent of the surrounding fields underscoring the beauty of the day. Our river-ride companions are locals and happily vouch for the highlights of life in New Zealand’s least windy location. Our guide tells us that it’s only when they leave NORTH & SOUTH | SEPTEMBER 2017 | 111
town that the locals realise the comparative calm that they take for granted. According to Alan, “the wind only really builds up speed when you get to Wellington!” Day two of our adventure starts with a delicious and lengthy breakfast at the inn, which requires a significant adjustment to our waistbands. It’s probably a good thing that the day’s activities are a little more sedate. Today we will sit back and enjoy the railside view from the comparatively luxurious confines of the Forgotten World golf carts. Although we’ll be retracing familiar territory, a thick cloak of fog has descended and the landscape is obscured. Rattling across lichenstrewn bridges, the only sights are eerie outlines of curious livestock that loom along the route. But the sun comes out as we roll into Matiere, a tiny community, that – in the 1920s – had two banks, a dairy factory, three sawmills and a brick factory. The few commercial buildings that remain are now empty. Morning tea is served in the town hall, which doubles as a gym. Rob Kakahi, our unflappable golf-cart guide and railway enthusiast, says Matiere is best known for netball these days. There are two local teams. The Matiere Cosmopolitan Club is also a popular gathering place. On the last leg of our trek, there are glimpses of the Forgotten World Highway, so empty we’ve all but forgotten its existence. Only one car has passed, and one friendly local horseman, who waved as he galloped by. +
Bottom left: accommodation. captions
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• Forgotten World Adventures offers a range of packages from half -day to multi-day tours; they include self-drive options in motorised RailCarts or Pedal-Powered RailBikes, accompanied by a guide. They also offer heli-jet and jet boat tours on and above the Whanganui River, with views of historic sites such as the Bridge to Nowhere in the Whanganui National Park. For details, visit www. forgottenworldadventures.co.nz