Day 31 - Mercer to Rangirri Bridge 25.5 TA 729

I’m officially in Waikato Country!

First up a couple of k’s through farmland and bush, with some tantalizing snatches of the mighty Waikato River and the Whangamarino wetlands, the second largest bog and swamp complex on the North Island.

I paused for a while at the Whangamarino Redoubt, a historic site from the Maori War era and then took a detour past remnants of the Maori war entrenchments.

The Whangamarino Redoubt was established by British forces in 1863 as a forward position from which to bombard the first Maori defensive position at Meremere during the Waikato War of 1863-64.

From the redoubt, the British bombarded Maori with two 40 pounder Armstrong guns.

Maori held their position with 1000 warriors but in the end, the mismatch in artillery was the key to British victory.

It was humbling to stand here and reflect on the past.

I’ve spent time on many sites of war, overseas and in Australia (visiting massacre sites from the Frontier Wars).

The feelings of humility and sorrow remain the same.

What differs is the abundance of information and recognition I’ve found in almost every country except Australia.

How can we heal if the past isn’t acknowledged?

I continue on along steep tracks and hilly terrain. Near the trail head for this section is signage that indicates walkers are under the protection of a Ngati Naho Taniwha. Taniwha, in Maori stories, are beings that live in rivers, dark caves and giant waves in the ocean.

I’ve felt safe for this whole trip. This protection afforded to me by Ancestors and the connection I feel to the whenua (land) I’m walking on. I know how privileged I am and I’m committed to treading as lightly as I can.

On and on. Through more farmland and heaps of cattle. Some of this section is not for the faint of heart. I don’t think I would like to walk through here if I didn’t have any experience of being around livestock.

The trail ends near another old redoubt where in 1863, there was another bloody encounter between the British and Maori.

The earth’s ancient memories of these times seeps up through the soil. Stand still for a moment and you can feel it, these echos from the past.

Farm paddock. Looks lovely hey.

Nope. Not cows. Young bulls. I don’t know if I have ever run as fast as I did out of that paddock.

Yikes. This big fella was standing at the fence right at the stile I was supposed to cross. (I went around!).