North Island Hikes I’ve Done – Where My Hiking Story Began

Where my Hiking Began

Before South Island passes, long river routes, and hut numbers became part of my life, there was the North Island.

These hikes weren’t about ticking lists or chasing challenge—they were about learning what tramping even was.

I didn’t grow up as an outdoors kid. I played sport, sure, but tramping came late to me. These tracks were where I learned about gear, hut life, fear, fatigue, confidence, and the quiet moments that hook you for life.

This is where it all began.

The Pinnacles – Coromandel (October 2007 & July 2009)

Age 29

The Pinnacles was my very first hike—and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

I didn’t understand gear, track conditions, huts, or what “a steep climb” really meant. I walked into a local outdoor shop and bought what I could afford: a pack, sleeping bag, waterproofs, warm layers, boots, socks. I didn’t even carry a cooker—someone else handled dinner, and I just looked after my snacks.

We left Auckland, drove to Thames, and started from the Kauaeranga Kauri Trail. I remember the climb being relentless. When we reached the hut, it felt enormous—almost luxurious. That night we climbed to the Pinnacles themselves, and I was terrified. Metal rungs bolted into rock, exposure everywhere… but I did it.

That hike hooked me.

Years later, in July 2009, I returned to the Pinnacles. It ended up being the last hike I did in the North Island before moving south to Mid Canterbury. Ending where I had begun felt right.

Peach Cove – Northland (December 2007)

Age 29

A classic Northland tramp—bush, beach, and a bookable hut. Knowing you had a guaranteed bunk was a luxury when you were still learning the ropes.

I was still figuring out food, gear, and how my body responded to longer days. There were steep climbs, stunning coastal views, and good company. Each hike was quietly building confidence, even if I didn’t realise it at the time.

Waitawheta – Waikato (February 2008)

Age 29

Another North Island classic and another bookable hut. Easy access, family-friendly, and rich in history.

By now, hut life felt more familiar. I was starting to pay attention to how I packed, what I carried, and what I didn’t actually need. My body was adapting too—less sore, more capable.

Mount Pirongia (March 2008)

Age 29

Now part of Te Araroa, but back then it felt quieter and wilder. The hut was small, complete with a “loo with a view,” and the circuit was muddy in places.

What I remember most wasn’t the mud—it was the chain bolted to a sheer rock face on the way out. Once again, I was terrified. Exposure has never been my comfort zone, and Pirongia reminded me of that.

Some fears don’t disappear. You just learn to manage them.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing (April 2008)

Age 29

In 2008, I completed the Tongariro Crossing twice with different groups of friends.

Growing up in Auckland meant school camps to National Park, so by then I’d already done the crossing several times. I knew exactly what I was in for—and still, Devils Staircase always got me.

Back then, Ketetahi Hut was still standing (before the 2012 eruption), and the track was becoming more developed and busier. On my second crossing that year, I finally climbed to the summit of Tongariro—something I’d never done before.

Cape Brett – Bay of Islands (October 2008)

Age 30

By the time I tackled Cape Brett, I considered myself fitter and more experienced.

That confidence was tested.

The track was far steeper and longer than I expected, and I remember feeling genuine relief when I reached the old lighthouse keeper’s cottage. The hike out was shorter, and we opted for a water taxi from Deep Water Cove—a welcome end.

Te Rereatukahi – Waikato (December 2008)

Age 30

An end-of-year Christmas tramp, complete with ham and Christmas crackers.

One member of the group was very experienced, and on this hike I learned a lesson that changed how I move in the mountains:

Don’t follow every little rise and dip. Pick the most consistent line and hold it.

That single piece of advice reduced fatigue dramatically—and I still use it today.

Waiaua Gorge Hut via Ihaia Track – Taranaki (February 2009)

Age 30

With a friend living in Taranaki, my hiking range expanded south.

This was an easy overnight, but memorable for a few firsts: possums running across the hut roof, and my first encounter with a tramping club. They were… mature. It may or may not be where my early stereotype of tramping clubs being full of grumpy old people came from.

Lake Waikaremoana – Great Walk (March 2009)

Age 30

The only North Island Great Walk I’ve completed—and back when DOC fully managed the huts and tracks.

We took a water taxi to Waiharuru Hut, then walked to Marauiti, Waiopaoa, and finally Panekiri Hut. We chose this direction deliberately: start flat, save the climb, and finish with sunrise at Panekiri Bluff.

It was my first time hiking with a headlamp—and also my first time smashing my head on a low branch. To this day, I’m not a fan of hiking in the dark.

Around the Mountain – Taranaki (April 2009)

Age 30

This was the toughest North Island hike I’ve done.

At the time, Lake Dive Hut still existed, and erosion and slips scarred the mountain’s flanks. We started at Dawson Falls and stayed at Lake Dive the first night. By Waiaua Gorge Hut, injuries and a broken pack forced two people to exit early, leaving just two of us to continue.

Our final night at Holly Hut was packed—my first experience of a truly full hut. I also witnessed my first (and last) white spirit stove fire when someone failed to prime it properly and threw it out the window. Mental note: never use one.

Originally, we planned to exit via North Egmont, but instead completed the full circuit via Jacobs Ladder, Razorback, Puffer, and the ski field before returning to Dawson Falls.

It was hard. It was long. And it cemented my love for challenging routes.

Looking Back

These North Island hikes weren’t about achievement.

They were about becoming a tramper.

They taught me how to pack, how to pace myself, how to manage fear, and how to keep going when things felt uncomfortable. They laid the foundation for everything that came later in the South Island.

Every time I shoulder a pack now, I carry a little bit of those early lessons with me—learned one track, one hut, and one terrified step at a time.

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