Cook Islands – Our Cross Island Adventure
After a week of sun, snorkeling and relaxation in Rarotonga, we were ready for a little adventure. We had heard and read about the fabulous “Cross Island Walk” which traverses the island through deep jungle and reaches some of the island’s highest points including “The Needle,”
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a well-known landmark which provides spectacular views of most of the island. The path through the jungle is not well marked and the guidebook recommended doing a guided walk. Although the island isn’t that big, the jungle can be very dense and disorienting and hikers have been known to get off course and have to spend the night in the jungle. Of course, being the experienced and budget conscious world travelers we are, we decided it would be more fun to strike out on our own and trust in our finely honed orienteering skills (learned 20 years ago in basic training).
Since the walk begins on one side of the island and ends on the other, we decided to leave our scooters at the finish and catch the bus around to the start of the walk in Avarua. We stopped at a corner grocer and stocked up on snacks and drinks and then hit the trail. The first half hour was uninspiring and soon both kids were complaining about the heat; however once we made it into the real jungle, they started having fun.
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| From cook islands |
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| From cook islands |
We saw all kinds of exotic plants, birds, spiders and tiny, brightly coloured lizards and the kids delighted in competing to spot them first.
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| From cook islands |
The hike was challenging but fun and at times very steep, but we made it up to “The Needle” in less than two hours and took a break to admire the view and have a snack.
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| From cook islands |
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| From cook islands |
Little did we know that our true adventure was about to begin…
As we began the second half of our trek, we began to descend steeply and stopped to let a group of faster hikers pass us. I was in the lead and was simply following the path through the jungle, trying not to trip over tree roots. There was a large white plastic pipe that ran alongside the trail that we figured had once been used as a conduit for some sort of cable and we wondered aloud why the guidebook didn’t mention it. At one point, Claude called from the rear to ask if I had seen the path that veered off to the left. I hadn’t even seen it and asked if he thought we should go back. In the end, we decided that we must be on the main trail and continued on, following the white pipe. Soon the path began to climb dramatically again and we appeared to be on some kind of ridge. I also noticed that I was walking through spider webs, which was unusual since I knew there were hikers ahead of us. Soon the path seemed to take a hard right straight down the steep slope. We got about fifty feet down the hillside when we realized we had made a mistake and had followed the path of a recent rockslide. With every step, we triggered mini-landslides of our own that sent small rocks careening down the hill and had to hang onto tree roots and vines to keep from sliding all the way to the bottom. After being struck on the knee by a rather large rock, I decided to scramble back to the top and see if the path continued along the ridge. Sure enough it did, and we managed to coax the kids back up the hill and continued along the ridge. As we got higher, the ridge got narrower, but it was deceiving because the jungle foliage was so thick. At one point I reached out to my right and parted the leaves, looked straight down the slope we had just climbed and realized how high we were. I also realized that the ridge was now only about ten feet across and instantly clamped a hand on each kid’s shoulder.
By now we were pretty sure we had gone astray, but since it had been about 45 minutes since the fork in trail, we were reluctant to turn around and go back. We had an excellent view from the top of the ridge and could actually see where we needed to go.
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When we reached the end of the ridge we had to almost rappel down the slope using vines and roots. Once, I slipped and slid several feet before grabbing a vine to stop myself. Luckily, the kids were like little mountain goats and trusted us to guide them down safely. Through it all, they remained upbeat and didn’t seem to mind our unorthodox route through the jungle; if anything, the adventure kept them occupied and they didn’t complain once. Back down in the valley, it wasn’t so easy to maintain a sense of direction as we bushwhacked our way back to the trail. Fortunately, we knew that the main trail followed a stream and we were able to follow a dry streambed until it joined up with the larger one. Unfortunately, we were on the wrong side of the stream and the bank on the far side was about ten feet high. Claude placed rocks as stepping stones so we could cross the stream and then we all used vines to climb up the far bank Tarzan-style. Claude struck out through the jungle once more and, within a few minutes, let out a whoop that signaled he had found the main trail. I can’t describe the feeling of relief that surged through me. For the past two hours I had maintained an outer sense of calm so that the kids wouldn’t get upset, while inside I was envisioning the four of us wandering lost in the jungle and sleeping under the stars (don’t worry, Mom, there are no predators in the Cooks). Now that we were almost out of the woods (literally), I almost burst into tears.
We covered the remainder of the trail in about twenty minutes and emerged jubilantly into to the sunlight. There is a beautiful waterfall and rock pool at the trailhead and our victory swim was well-deserved and incredibly refreshing.
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The walk, which normally takes 3-4 hours, took us 5 ½ hours to complete. Claude claims that we were never actually lost – we just took an alternate route. He says he was never afraid and always knew where we needed to go. Thank goodness for his unerring sense of direction and confidence in his abilities, because if it had been up to me, we would probably still be wandering around in the jungle. I don’t think we were ever in any real danger of anything more than bumps and bruises, but I managed to emerge with a swollen knee and a few more scrapes than I’d started with (everyone else was unscathed). As for the white plastic pipe, we now know why it wasn’t mentioned in the guidebook. If nothing else, this was a truly bonding experience for our family and made for some great blogging material.
Tags: Cook Islands, Rarotonga, South Pacific, Travel
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