Lost in the jungle of New Zealand

Weekend off. Richie, Adnan, Daniel and I want to go to the Waitakere Mountains in front of the Tasman Sea. The idea actually came from Tom, our host. A german physics engineer who has fulfilled his lifelong dream with a beach villa in Bucklands Beach (Auckland). He has been hiking on the Karamatura Track several times in the past 20 years. Enthusiastically he tells us about the untouched nature and of waterfalls that can normally only be found in picture books. Our eyes get big. A lot we’re looking forward to that magic 🙂

Start. We haven’t even got out of the car yet, when this seductive view onto Huia Bay gives us an idea of ​​what we could get to see today. In our backpack we park some water, sandwiches and a towel. Let’s go! At the entrance, a park ranger warns us urgently not to leave the marked Karamatura track. Just a few days ago, a young girl broke her foot in the steep terrain. He said. It was only possible to salvage her by helicopter. And that too was lucky. Yesterday was heavy rain again. The park ranger says, if we keep following the marked trail, it won’t be a safety issue. We thank him for his concerns and start our hiking route.

Tom even has a GPS radio with him. Just in case of emergency. It starts to rain. And. It doesn’t matter. Because the Karamatura track safes us from being wet under evergreen tree roofs. We’re facing amazing silver, tree and palm ferns, passing by agave and yucca palms. Even the blue plumage of the shy Tui bird sparkles between the branches. And below, colorful orchids are shimmering. A completely new flora and fauna for me. My smile never stops. After 30 minutes we arrive at the Karamatura waterfall. What an area!

Tom gets an idea. If we would climb the Karamatura Fall aside, several waterfalls should be behind. If we would then follow the course of the river through the jungle, we would come out at another hiking trail, the Twins Peak Track. Immediately the park rangers’ warning voice penetrates our heads: under no circumstances should we leave the marked way. Rocks, roots, leaves. Especially today everything is slippery with the rain. But. We agreed on giving at least a try for the waterfalls. After all, at any time we could turn around if it gets too awkward. Could.

We start exploring. Upwards. At branches and roots we’re able to climb up. First waterfall, no problem. We continue to climb over steep, slippery rocks. A little beyond our mind. The second and third waterfall really enchant us. But we stopped at the fourth and last waterfall. We’ve found the Garden of Eden. Paradise on earth. A masterpiece of nature. So rich, so fertile and harmonious that the best gardener in the world couldn’t do better. Naked we jump into the crystal clear water. Swim. Cheer. Laugh. That’s how bliss must feel…

We saw what we dreamed of. Now we could have turned back. But for some reason we are torn between wanting and oughting to, between to can and to do. In the end, we decide for sticking to this adventurous idea of ​​trying to hike through the middle of the jungle to find that mysterious Twins Peak track. Tom carries his GPS device. That gives us sort of some security. After a while we leave the course of the river. And it gets steeper. Thicker and thicker. Persistent lianas are blocking our way through. Several times we get stuck. Just for 1 meter onwards we often need more than a minute. After 1 hour finally we lose our orientation. And the signal! It really happens. Tom’s GPS radio no longer shows any sign! The signal of our smartphones we lost of course a long time ago. And we have no clue about the way back and forth. So we continue to fight for our way onwards. Still we think that we had to be just in front of the second hiking trail. And we fight on through dense plants, roots and lianas. Recklessly sharp leaves and ferns cut into our flesh.

After another hour of climbing up the area starts to get downhill. We can’t see anything but we had to be on a ridge. Tom’s desperate look at his GPS device tells everything. We have absolutely no idea where we could be and aren’t able at all to orient ourselves in that thick jungle area. It is already afternoon. In 2 hours it is getting pitch black. Humor has left us long ago. We have no food, no water, no sleeping bag, no warm clothes at rainy 10°C. During our descent mentally I prepare myself already for the cold winter night in the jungle. The only positive thing: unlike in India, Peru or the Congo, there are no dangerous and poisonous animals in the jungle of New Zealand.

The descent is getting steeper and more dangerous. We can only grab onto some small roots to not fall down. Once I reach for a rock, suddenly a piece breaks off and a 70kg boulder falls on my back. Fortunately from a low drop. A few centimeters to the left and it would have hit my spine. Luckily I get away with a large hematoma. A few minutes later, some stones got loose under my shoes and fall on Daniel’s head. Now he has a cut over his right eye. Blood is running down his face. Totally blind we climb and fall, still hoping to find a way out.

And suddenly we are standing in front of a waterfall. No way! 12 meters deep. Surrounded by vertical cliffs. There is no way out to the left or to the right. Dead end. Going back over the steep, loose, slippery ground is impossible as well. We are trapped. And then Tom says: “Rappel down!” Right at the waterfall. And takes his rope out. He is serious. None of us can lower us down on a rope. Especially not at a 12m deep waterfall in the rain. One bad grip on the wet rocks. One wrong step. And a small mistake is punished with death. I’m telling Tom: “That’s not an option for me!” – “And what else do you want to do: stay here?” He shouted. Yes. Stay here. Rappelling under such conditions means death. We’ll find plenty of water here in the rain and if necessary cellulose from the plants. A rescue team might find us in a few days. At least the option to live a few more days seemed better to me. Quite scary yet.

I’m staring into empty space. While Tom continues to fasten the rope, Richie, Adnan and Daniel also helplessly sit there. My thoughts switch off. And then it happens. Suddenly something pulls me to the right. Comparable to a centrifugal force that throws you off your intended track. Just that this new path seemed so liberating to me as if it was enlightened. To Tom and the others I just say, “I’m going right.” None of us could tell whether this path was viable. But my sudden action must have seemed so clear to the others that I could no longer perceive any reaction. And everyone followed.

Even my mind had no time to interfere. Neither was it now about Tom’s rappelling nor about staying in front of the abyss. It is the absolute dedication to a level that is obviously deeper than both my mind and the waterfall. Step by step, I’m feeling my way down the steep cliffs, reaching for some roots. Purely acting by instinct. Risks on that way down were warded off from the breadth of my open attitude. Neither I feel joy nor suffering. Not even hope or any fear arises during the descent. Finally we made it safely to the bottom. Our relief is great. But our joy is still modest. We are only save for the moment. So we still had to find a way out of the jungle.

Again we get into steep terrain. We slipped again, cut ourselves, and fell down. And as strange as it may sound. Fatefully a little later we stood on the edge of a new waterfall again. And that one is even deeper. Again, fenced by vertical rock cliffs on the left and right. Tom takes out his rope again and says: “We have no other choice. Now we have to rappel down.” He looks at me. Hesitating. There was no need for an answer. This commented on itself. The only thing I had to say is: “We have to move on there.” Again I feel the same feeling of deep clarity and unity with the surroundings. Just like before. Once again it is the blank feeling of being helpless and totally exposed to the situation. I didn’t fight that. I agreed to it.

Up until today I have no explanation for my enormous self-confidence in this situation. After all, nobody knew whether my path would lead us to death in the end. No-one saw it. A descent actually seemed completely hopeless again. The reason everyone followed me was maybe because I would have been the first to fall off on the front line 😉 All I know is that in both waterfall situations I received or felt a specific relationship between my instinct and mind. Again, after several tricky steep passages, we were able to overcome the waterfall on the right side without serious injuries. A few more scratches and falls. And suddenly we literally fell on the well-marked Karamatura track. We did it! Who would have thought?! Firstly, that we moved around in circles. Secondly, that we really made it out of that jungle odyssey. Tears of joy ran down and in relief we fell into the arms of each other. This is how bliss really must feel…