7th–14th June
This leg was going to be a pretty scenic ride. I was looking forward to it. My route plan changed a few times based on conversations with others, but once it was sorted, we were off through the inland route to Gisborne.
Before leaving Wairoa, I was able to catch up with the girls at Coast Vets who are playing a very important support role now that they have no formal shelter. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to catch up with Wairoa Rescue Dogs before I left and was told that Aroha Dogs has moved on to serve Gisborne. Both of whom have downscaled their operations by now anyway. Turned out that a few people wanted to interview me on the fly too. Tim from The Wairoa Star asked me to pop by for an interview and we even got stopped by a local journalism student on the way out. Wairoa was a really nice unplanned break with some wonderful people offering support and encouragement.
And the sphere of friendliness proved to be much wider than just the town itself. I was waved in to a local marae where some grounds maintenance was under way. I was welcomed with open arms and an open fridge before leaving with a warm glow and a stash of beautifully sweet Maori bread for the road. Thank you. Shortly after that, I received not one, but two offers of a lawn to park up on down the track and one man even gave me his HEART! Well… a pig’s heart he had just acquired. The dogs appreciated that very much. Thanks.
I’m still not used to all these people coming and offering to lend a hand in any way they can. It’s really quite a special way to be living. This first day’s travel brought me to a school house now owned privately. Jake had a great play with Millie and Don and Kath were lovely hosts. Thank you.
We made the most of this stop to rest up for the many hills to come. It had been a while since walking any really formidable hills. I’d almost forgotten how the kilometres drag when I’m towing all my stuff uphill. Thighs powering up the slope and calves straining to keep up the work. Battered shoulders remind me of the years of abuse I have dealt them but they carry the load all the same. Then comes fighting the runaway train’s momentum on the way back down. Muscles all around my shoulders and back alternately scream their disagreement and forearms burn as they ensure we have brakes.
It was during one of these climbs that I met Te Reinga and her Nan. They offered me a lawn to park on for the night and to help me find it, Nan offered Te Reinga up as a guide. It was nice to have a (human) walking companion for a change. Te Reinga even acted as my personal photographer for this special moment walking through a mob of sheep being herded up the road. I enjoyed meeting Nan, Opa and all four kids. Thanks for having me and all the best for your permaculture dreams for the place.
Back on the road, it was time for more hills. Once everything was stowed away and goodbyes had been said, I bundled up against the cold. It wasn’t long before the work of hill climbing had heated me to a pretty solid sweat. Rain was on and off. Drench. Drizzle. Deluge. Drop off. It was pointless trying to match clothes to the conditions, so when the Tiniroto Tavern showed itself on the horizon advertising “Hot Food Here”, I was sold. Stuff this weather and stuff these hills. It was time for a break.
The day was still young. The wettest of the weather seemed to have passed. As had the morning chill. The hills had unfortunately gone nowhere. Breaking up the effort was definitely the right option though. Shoulders got a chance to release and Jake got a chance to dry off and warm up. It must also be said that although our route was vertically challenging, it was also a bloody nice walk. The road through Tiniroto follows the Wairoa River and takes you through some pretty incredible scenery. The upshot to being in the middle of nowhere is that there is nothing but nature surrounding you. Well… lots of goats too. But I guess they count as nature.
After a couple more hours of steep winding roads, we arrived at Doneraille Park. Great spot! I’d been there once before and had decided to spend a day there. The road in winds down the hillside, (making all that climbing I’d just done to get to the top of the hill seem a little pointless) and crosses a short bridge into a quiet gorge. The odd ute might go by, but in winter it seems that very few people treat themselves to a visit. That was fine by me. The boys and I just drank in the serenity and let time slip slowly away.
The well-earned rest had to end eventually. There were more hills that needed dealing to. So that is what we did. Kilometre after kilometre… hundreds of meters up, then plunging down to the valley floor. I’m sure someone had their reasons for choosing that path for the road, but I couldn’t bring myself to appreciate what these might have been. The river and road had parted ways by now and the weather began to turn after a day of brilliant sun.
Suddenly ZING-CRACK! Followed immediately by an ear-splitting BANG! Freezing in my tracks, I searched for the source of the noise when a second BANG! rang out. Did I mention the goats? Yeah. It’s a pretty big thing right from about Tutira all the way up through to Gisborne. Turns out a couple had jumped the fence into the farm beside me and the farmer was taking pot shots at them. That first shot must’ve been pretty close, as I heard not just the bang but the bullet too. However, the goats had shifted a bit and I could see the farmer lining up another shot with a clear line. So I waited. BANG! Twitching in its death throes, he’d managed to hit one this time, so I yelled up “Dude! There’s a person down here! Are you finished now?” “Chur bro! Yeah. I see ya now” came the reply.
Miraculously, I didn’t need to change my undies. I did do a mental check though… Just in case. Then we carried on.
The run through Gisborne is a relatively flat and soothing one from the bottom of a hill called Gentle Annie. The local SPCA is about 10km out from the town itself and conveniently, right on my way in. I’d arrived after closing time, so it seemed prudent to make use of the campground almost opposite the shelter.
The next day, Robyn (manager) took me through the Gisborne SPCA. They have a handful of shelter staff (including one inspector and a second in training) and around 40 volunteers. One of whom, June, is 79 years old and has been helping out regularly for 18 years. The facility is quite literally a collection of tin sheds but they have plans to build a new facility in the near future.
Like so many other shelters, this one is responsible for a vast land area. The area covered is about half to two thirds of the East Cape. Paired with a notably low socioeconomic climate, sparse habitation and wide expanses of dense bush, the area’s management presents a huge challenge. Robyn notes a sharp rise in the number of puppies and dogs that have come through this year, which she attributes partly to the recent change in Housing Corp NZ policy disallowing dogs in their buildings. The climate being as warm as it is, they don’t get the same sort of defined ‘kitten season’ as other areas and like other areas, have not really had an end to kitten season this year at all.
Gisborne SPCA, like Central Hawkes Bay and Dannevirke, aims to place an emphasis on the primary role of SPCAs as a centre for the care/rehoming of suffering animals and preventing cruelty through the inspectorate wing. Education also serves a primary role in this function. Preventative health care such as flea treatments, worming and vaccination are neglected in this area and it is well-known for its heavy burden of serious disease such as Canine Parvovirus (Parvo). Robyn hopes that people will consider these ongoing costs and only take on animals if they can afford them. Furthermore, there is a need for people to choose desexing for all companion animals.
There is no place for self-styled ‘breeders’ in this climate of domestic animal overpopulation.
Gisborne SPCA rehomed around 300 cats and 197 dogs last year. 60 of those dogs were from the local pound, with whom they enjoy a positive reciprocal relationship, sharing pen spaces in times of over-crowding. People are often referred to the council to obtain cat traps through their cat trapping program if they are having issues with roaming cats. Gisborne SPCA works with several local gateway programmes, Idea Services and BUPA but welcomes involvement from other organisations or individuals.
One take-home message Robyn wanted to get across is “Don’t judge people” for their choice to surrender animals. There are often complicated circumstances which force this decision and public comments abusing and shaming people in public forums such as Facebook serve no positive purpose.
I was thrilled to hear that the New Zealand SPCA has just launched a series of children’s books about animal care and compassion along with accompanying teacher resources. They are to be distributed to every primary school in the country and are specifically designed to teach principles of empathy toward animals within several aspects of the current curriculum in a ‘real world’ way.
When I eventually went into Gisborne itself, I was met by a flood of support! So many people offered a place to stay, meals and donations. While I couldn’t take up all the offers, I want you to know that I appreciate every one. Local media too, were very receptive. People all over Facebook, The Gisborne Herald, More FM and Turanga FM all helped provide much needed visibility for the campaign.
Special thanks to Ray and Kristen, Kushla and Katene for having me at your homes. I never thought I would be in the company of 1) a man who raised his kids in the bush; and 2) a lady who has done a waka voyage to Rapanui (Easter Island) navigating by the stars, within a day of each other!
I met with Amber from Gisborne Pet Adoption and Rescue and Donna from Mutts and Moggies. The former being a personal attempt to help rehome animals that other local organisations won’t and the latter mostly focussing on desexing and education. I was particularly struck by how highly everyone spoke of Mutts and Moggies. I was also captured by Sticky Fingers Day Care as I walked past and had a great time chatting to the kids there.
One incident unfortunately dulled the Gisborne experience when someone clearly broke into The Chariot while I was away doing a radio spot. When I came back, I noticed a few things were not in their usual place. The thing with having so few things and such a small space is that I always know where everything is and where it is usually stowed. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when I went to put my coins in the tin I put change in at the end of the day, I found it was gone. I wasn’t so worried about the coins themselves, but in hindsight, I realised the dogs were very anxious that day and I suspect this is at least part of why. Their safe place was invaded while they were left inside. I felt guilty for putting them in that situation. I was fairly certain who did it too so when they didn’t take the opportunity to tell me, my trust in others took a bit of a hit too. But hey, maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree. Hope so.
Alas, that’s life and the overwhelming majority of the experience had been positive. On that note, I left to head up the gorge towards the beautiful Bay of Plenty.
The Longest Walk NZ 
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