We're Tramping

For the past several months, whenever we ventured off-road, my husband would announce we're tramping. According to wiki, tramping is walking over rough country carrying all the required food and equipment; the term is generally used for trips that are of at least one overnight stay in the backcountry. Therefore, I'm fairly certain our New Zealand tramp count stands at....zero. Today, we decided to take one more non-tramp in New Zealand.

Rangitoto Island is a volcanic island rising out of the Auckland Harbour, for me, it is my favourite landmark in Auckland. For kilometer after kilometer, it has been my companion as I ran the shoreline. As I gazed out at it, I imagined a scarred and barren landscape, red brown and covered in lava stones. I was wrong.

As the ferry approached the island, I was surprised to discover there were trees, lots of trees. Not only trees, but there were a handful of baches (cottages) scattered along the waterfront. My barren island had once supported seven hundred permanent residents! We disembarked and began the one hour climb to the summit; obviously the people who climbed in an hour did not have a three-year old and they were not six months pregnant. Although the trail was obvious, it did have it's challenges in random jutting lava rocks, the occasional root, and slippery leaves. After allowing Mikaela to walk and play hide-and-seek for over an hour, we began to panic that we wouldn't make it to the summit in time to return for the last ferry. Dave, once again, showed he was an IronMan. He hefted our forty pound daughter, and carried her to the summit. I panted my way behind them, hoping I wasn't cooking the foetus. Twice, Dave suggested we give up and start heading down...particularly when one section that should have taken us five minutes took fourteen, but we persevered. And the view was worth it...