Dec 12, 2022
The hut that Baine built
Ōrongorongo Valley
Driving down SH2 I had no idea where exactly we were headed. My friend Emily was visiting from Whangarei, and we had been intending to do the Cattle Ridge loop in the Tararuas but the weather forecast was looking terrible. Entering Petone we made a snap decision to head west over the Wainuiamata hill to the Ōrongorongo Valley.
The Ōrongorongo, a shortened version of Te Wai ō Rongorongo — the waters of Rongorongo, holds a special place in tramping lore. Since the turn of last century it has attracted trampers, trappers and even the odd deserter with the lure of lush bush and lofty mountain tops just a stone’s throw from Wellington. In the early days this involved a ferry to Eastbourne, followed by a walk to Gollans Stream, over to the Wainuiomata River and then the ‘Gutbuster’ to Catchpool Stream and the Ōrongorongo (see graphic below).
For us it was a simple 40 minute drive from the CBD to get to the Catchpool carpark. A light drizzle was falling when we got out of the car, although the weather was hot and muggy. We had just smashed back a party pack of Dunkin Donuts (other donut providers are available) and were itching to get going down the track. The way into the valley is wide and benched, a highway on which we motored along. In under an hour we were descending “Jacob’s ladder” into the valley itself.
The Ōrongorongo Valley is defined by a curious phenomenon — an outbreak of… huts. Not just any huts, huts of every shape and size imaginable. There is the palatial Turere Lodge, A-frames like Cookie Hut, and huts that lack a single square wall such as Baine-Iti. All of these huts have sprouted up over the last century, work of enterprising families and clubs who saw value in having a retreat from the hustle and bustle of the city. Permission to build a hut wasn’t complicated, it only required a permit from the local waterboard. We were headed up the valley to one of the oldest of them all and the only one not locked, Baine-Iti.
But before we got to Baine-Iti we had plenty of other huts to bag first. We followed the track through the bush on the true-right of the river, the forest around us enclosing in a dense web of supplejack. The canopy provided shelter from the worst of the rain, and it wasn’t long before we started to spot huts nestled in the trees.
Em had a theory that the best way to spot a hut was to look out for the cool trees. Perhaps more correlation rather than causation, cool trees abounded. Thick tentacles of northern rātā twisted around host trunks like wooden sea monsters looking for ships to wreck. The bush exploded with every shade of green imaginable, fresh shoots sprouting encouraged by the muggy summer air. In our quest to bag huts we leap-frogged a pair of girls on their way to Turere Lodge several times. Em was a bit disappointed that we didn’t ask them if they’d seen our twins in front of us.
Despite the constant undulation of the track and the many huts to be distracted by, we made good progress up the valley. We soon passed Haurangi Hut before the track disappeared altogether. I thought this might be a good point to double check the map on my phone to see the exact location of Baine-Iti Hut. The only issue was that my phone was not in my pack, nor was it in my camera bag. How hard can it be to find a hut in the rain based off my goldfish memory?
I remembered the hut was by the track up to Mt Matthews, but exactly where eluded me. We walked up the scree choked Matthew Stream in hope we would see the hut, but all we found were orange markers. The rain started to come down increasingly persistently, giving me horrible flashbacks to my past navigational failures in the Takitimu Range that resulted in a night out spooning in a puddle.
None of this bothered Em, who continued smiling and laughing despite being fully aware of the PTSD I was suffering. We walked back down the stream, dripping from head to toe.
“Is that smoke coming out of the trees Em?” I asked over optimistically.
“Sam that’s just another cloud” replied an amused Emily.
I had the bright idea of following a trapping line up the hill. This led nowhere but was a nice workout to warm up. Feeling defeated I retreated back down the hill and turned around the corner from the stream. Not 5 metres in front of me a large and very obvious cairn was hanging out next to the bush, raising my hopes. Sure enough, a peek through the trees revealed the battered and beloved Baine-Iti Hut.
Baine-Iti is one of the oldest huts in the valley, being built during the start of the Great Depression as a ranger station. It was built by Jack Baine, a founding member of the Tararua Tramping Club and replaced an earlier hut on the same site. Jack’s son Ian looked over the hut for the past 50 years before passing away in 2022 at the age of 90. Ian’s legacy goes far beyond Baine-Iti, he helped build or restore Alpha, Field, Dobsons and Tauherenikau (all in the Tararuas), Waerenga in the Orongorongo and the TTC lodge on Ruapehu. If that wasn’t enough he was also the first importer of “poofter pads” into New Zealand, having discovered the inflatable Thermarest bed mats during a skiing trip to Canada, and he was the winner of the inaugural inter-club ski race at Ruapehu in 1952.
Baine-Iti has no straight lines. The walls and roof consist of battered corrugated iron, with odd bits of timber squezed into every nook and cranny. The floor is made of cobbled river stone, and makes one walk like a drunkard even before the wine comes out! At the far end of the hut from the door sits the open fireplace, which I’m sure many stories have been told in front of. The whole hut was imperfect and we loved it.
With plenty of daylight left we decided to drop packs inside the hut and go for an explore up the valley. Grey cloud hung on the tops of the Remutaka range, as the gurgling Ōrongorongo River churned down beside us. We were amused by an enormous orang(ish) triangle that was supposed to mark the way to Papatahi Hut but wasn’t actually visible from the river. Despite this we found the path and climbed to Papatahi Hut, admiring its cosy nook in the bush as smoke curled out of its chimney.
Retracing our steps we found a decent pool in the river for a wash (we couldn’t really get any wetter) before strolling back to our base at Baine-Iti. We spent the waining hours of the day in candle light, listening to the soothing drum of rain on the iron roof. We had an elaborate dinner, and drank wine in front of a flickering fire. At one point we had visitor, one of the private hut owners coming in to check on the hut. He said we were lucky we weren’t sharing it with an eccentric older gentleman who, as evident by long scribbles in the hutbook, is a regular and very enthusiastic about conspiracy theories. We fell asleep to the sounds of the forest, the amber glow in the fire slowly fading.
If I have one criticism for Baine-Iti it is that the mattresses are fucking hard. In the morning I also discovered that we were not alone in the hut, as three rather large resident spiders made themselves known on the window next to the bed. Em and I agreed that this was something we would have preferred not to have known. After breakfast we set out from the hut. A cursory glance at Mt Matthews confirmed it was clagged in, so instead we trotted off down the valley, this time on the true-left.
Every so often we would pass a hole in the bush, driveways to huts often marked by 4WDs. The river was up a little, but only enough to make crossing it interesting. We climbed ‘Big Bend’ and investigated the impressive hut that sits on the bends apex, hut number 78. Every hut is numbered, I can only assume based on the original waterboard permit. Permits stopped being issued in 1980 and since DOC assumed management of the area in 1987 the licenses for the huts has become non-transferable, reverting to the Crown on the death of the holder. In some cases this means the huts become part of the network, but in most cases it has meant their removal.
Continuing down the valley we were reunited with Turere Stream, and more usefully, a map of the valley! I took a photo and we set off across the Ōrongorongo River in search of Jans Hut. This took a 10 minute walk through the bush with a few detours to other private huts, but eventually we stumbled on the 9-bunk Jans Hut. Back down the track we crossed Browns Stream and bagged TTC’s Waerenga Hut, before setting off in search of Raukawa Lodge.
The river had decided to change its course and ran straight through a solid stand of manuka. On the other side of these rather wet trees we found Raukawa, set high and dry up on a terrace.
After Raukawa it was on to Boar Inn, which we found complete with swing just 500 metres downriver.
With all the DOC huts bagged I forced Em on a hunt for the Wellington Tramping and Mountaineering Club’s Paua Hut. I didn’t have a map, only the vibe in my head from photos I had seen a while back (do I ever learn?). It wasn’t too hard to find, about halfway from Boar Inn we picked up a 4WD track and this led us straight to Paua Hut which sits high on a terrace among beech trees overlooking the braids of the river. Onward we trotted, back down the road and across the river to a sign I had seen on the other side.
After demolishing some leftover pasta and chocolate I proposed another nutty idea to Em, Browns Track. She was either too nice or too naïve to say no, and soon we were heading vertically upward. Browns Track really didn’t mess around, it was a straight upward grunt for 200 metres. At the top of the climb the track intersects with the Cattle Track, and I confidently (without real basis) asserted that we should continue to follow Browns Track, despite not really being sure it went to the carpark. Again Emily humoured me and we went on our way down Browns Track.
From time to time this peeked above the trees, giving us views down the Catchpool Valley. Other than being a bit overgrown and slippery the downhill part of the track was a joy (although Em may disagree, she dislikes the downhill). The track spat us out on the main route about a third of the way back to the carpark. From there it was a walk in the park back to the car, just in time for a quick dip!
A tension reverberates through the entire Ōrongorongo valley, between the value of the valley’s built-heritage and the right of people to occupy public conservation land, to the exclusion of others. Whatever the future holds, it is clear that the huts have made a valuable contribution to backcountry life in New Zealand, introducing generations of people to the joy of the outdoors, and represent a century of hut building. It would be a shame to see gems like Baine-Iti be lost. I have a feeling that that fireplace has many more stories to tell.
