There's a folktale in the tribal history of New Zealand that reminds of the mighty impact even the smallest creatures can have.
"He iti mokoroa e hinga pūriri," it says. "The little mokoroa grub fells a pūriri tree."
Though I can't find any sources linking this tale to the naming of Mokoroa Falls, it certainly has a connection.
The track to Mokoroa Falls runs through an amazing and lush kauri forest. The impressive kauri trees can grow 150 feet and live some 2,000 years -- if they aren't felled by logging or disease. Before humans made it to the North Island, these trees covered about 3 million acres of land. Now only a small percentage of forest remains.
And New Zealanders are keen to protect it.
When entering any kauri areas, visitors must scrub and disinfect their shoes and any equipment that could transfer disease. Pets are not often allowed as they could be carrying kauri dieback spores in their fur. If this spore gets into the forest, it spreads through the soil, infecting the tree from the roots up and damaging the tissues inside. An infection nearly always ends in the death of the tree.
The mighty spore can fell the kauri tree.
Last weekend, on our tramp to Mokoroa Falls, we took extra care to protect the forest. At the trailhead washing station, we rubbed our shoes over a mat with stiff bristles and then washed them off using a container of disinfectant rinse. When we were sure they were nice and clean, it was off to the races.
The trail to the falls has a nice, gentle downward slope that takes about 30 minutes to hike.
The Adorables were turns ahead of us, running full speed the whole way. I learned later they were pretending Mom and Dad were dinosaurs on the hunt, and they were trying to avoid becoming lunch. Worked for us! They had fun playing, and we enjoyed a leisurely -- QUIET, for once! -- walk, checking out the amazing forest scenery all around us.
At the bottom of the trail, a wooden walkway leads to the overlook for the falls. You can hear the rushing water yards before you see it, which adds to the excitement. And that first peek is a magical "Holy Moly" moment.
There are two falls, each about three stories high (the second one is to the right of the photo).
They're simply, beautiful.
And worth the pain to come, ha. That nice, gentle downhill hike we did on the way there? Yeah, what goes down must come back up!
At the kids' request, we took a detour down too many flights of stairs to see the creekbed at the bottom of the falls. I wouldn't recommend it, as you can't see much without getting your feet wet -- and that's something only experienced "trampers" should do. (That's not us!)
The walk back up the stairs tired us all out, which got us off to a rough start on the slog back up the trail. The kids were beat -- and gripey. But they made it back without anyone having to be carried or given a piggyback ride -- a major win.
We washed our shoes again, more cognizant than before of the beauty and majesty we were trying to protect and preserve, knowing even the smallest among us play a role in this important task.
