Soon we were walking next to the coast line, passing a succession of beaches - Scott's, Big Rock, Koura, Nettle, 20 Minute and finally Heaphy Beach - alternating with small headands or boulder clad shore, to the constant roar of the surf on our left.

The track mainly followed a line just above the beaches, undulating slightly and passing variously under cool shady denser forest or more open palm-lined sections, opening out occasionally to wander through thickets of flowering flax or crossing sections of sandy beach and boulder beds on the shore.

Periodically, we crossed tea-coloured watercourses, from tiny trickles that flowed out of the adjacent rocks and barely disturbed the track to wide, swing bridge-linked boulder-strewn streams, such as Swan Burn and Wekakura Creek, carving their way down steep gulleys to the sea.

Eventually, we cut in behind the beach and angled across through one last dense patch of forest to emerge at a grassy clearing - to our left lay the edge of the Heaphy River, to our right the welcome sight of Heaphy Hut.

The Heaphy River mouth is a wild and turbulent place; the sea churns and foams as the incoming waves meet the outgoing freshwater flow, the broad sandy beach has become a graveyard of dead trees, with bleached-white wood from matchstick size to great tree-trunks scattered about in long tide-rows by the big seas. Water-smoothed granite stones, many with pink and orange flecks, line the shore where they had been tumbled down from the ranges beyond by the relentless river. This is a special place.

Soon we reached the long swing-bridge crossing the stoney bed of the Gunner River shortly before it joined the Heaphy. Continuing on, the limestone cliffs soared higher as they squeezed up against the Heaphy River. We stopped for a bite to eat under a giant rata tree; the thick tangle of twisted conjoined trunks showing how, several hundred years earlier, it had germinated in accumulated humus in the crotch of another tree and reached down to establish itself in the soil before soaring to even greater heights, using its long dead host as a prop (phew! what a mouthful). In recompense, the rata now played host to scores of epiphytic plants in its spreading canopy.

A short walk from here saw us carefully swinging across the Heaphy River via four 80m long steel cables, held in place by interlacing wires and anchoring ropes. Another shorter swing bridge over the tannin stained Lewis River soon saw us sitting on the verandah of Lewis Hut for a well-earned break before the 700m climb up to the Mackay Downs.

The 12 km long climb began as soon as we left the hut, following a well-benched track steadily up the long spur. Gradually the forest changed character as we gained height - the taller kahikatea and rata soon disappeared from the broadleaf/podocarp mixture, and the soft crunch of tiny leaves beneath our feet betrayed the first appearance of beech. Gradually the rimu became less common and the beech moreso as we continued up the gentle, but relentless climb. The track here is extremely well maintained and a channel drain keeps its relatively dry. A bonus of this is the incredible display of mosses colonising the drain and adjacent face cut into the slope; the changing textures and shades of green with occasional reddish and maroon tinges, together with the small mossy streams crossing the track, provided an endless source of pleasure for mossophiles, such as myself, on the long climb.

Finally the beeches became shortier and spindlier, indicating that we were near the top. A short section of scrubby tea-trees followed and suddenly, the welcome shape of Mackay Hut appeared.

All day long there had been a battle between the clouds and the sun and, shortly after we arrived at the hut, the clouds won and the rain began to fall. It was certainly better being inside, in front of the warm pot-belly stove, playing cards with Marion from France and Maureen from Colorado, than out on the track. Others were not so fortunate and, as passing showers increased in intensity, increasingly wet and bedraggled trampers coming in from the east joined us in the warmth of Mackay Hut. Seventeen people were early to bed that night, looking for a good night's sleep - shame that the smoke alarm malfunctioned and peeped all night long - even a bigger shame we all thought it was someone else and didn't get up to do anything about it.

The baserock of this landscape was a pink-grey granite, and granite gravel has been used to provide an easy walking surface over this section. Eventually we entered taller forest again as the track crossed another saddle and descended gradually down through increasingly mossy beech forest, ringing with the calls of tuis and grey warblers. A sudden ecotonic change from forested slopes to tussock grass flats greeted our arrival at the Gouland Downs.

We crossed the Saxon River, flowing across these open flats, passed through a patch of lower, scrubby forest and arrived for lunch at Saxon Hut, a modern hut on the edge of the downs, with superb views to the east of this prairie-like grassy landscape.

Charming old Gouland Downs Hut lay just on the other side, too inviting not to stop for rest and bite to eat. Our travelling companions, Richard and Katrin, were already there so we joined them for afternoon tea.

From the hut, we dropped quickly down into the shallow but steep gorge of Cave Brook, crossed the bridge and climbed up back out of the gorge on the other side through a drier area, where red sundews and alpine daisies occurred in patches along the track.

The long steady ascent continued, and eventually we entered a bird-filled area of regenerating forest. Our feet were feeling very tired as we neared the end of a 24 km day and it was a great relief to see Perry Saddle Hut appear at the end of a long grassy flat. From here on it would be virtually all downhill.