If you ever find yourself meandering through the scenic roads of Northland, New Zealand, keep your eyes peeled for a jagged green tooth rising from the landscape like a sentinel of time. That’s Tokatoka Peak, a striking volcanic plug that practically begs to be climbed. And when you’re staying in it’s shadow with a curious crew like ours, that’s exactly what you do.
The First Glimpse
I spot Tokatoka from the car, heading in from Dargaville. It’s my first glimpse in over 20 years but it still looks exactly as I remember. Picture a steep, forested cone shooting out of a lush valley, its top crowned with rock like a mini-Mordor (except way more inviting and at least 95% family-friendly). For the next few days we’re busy and I merely observe it from afar: whilst moving the cows, feeding the chickens, looking out the kitchen window, but eventually, we can’t resist any longer. We drive over from the farm and pull over at the small parking area next to the sign marking the Tokatoka path and gear up for the hike.
The Climb
Now, full disclosure: this is not your average family stroll. The trail isn’t long, maybe 15–20 minutes, but it’s steep, and toward the top, you’re scrambling up rock. We’re a party of 9 – my sister, my cousin, her husband and all the kids. We take it slowly, especially with the kids.
The first section through lush forest is actually really beautiful. It’s been drizzling too and the forest smells are enhanced. It’s easy going at first but before long I breathe deeply, both to inhale the fresh scents and also because it’s getting steeper. I’m in gumboots (Wellingtons), due to some bad packing, which doesn’t help either and so I even fall back behind the kids. My breathing is even heavier and it’s steep and slippery, I slow down even more and pause a few times – to take in the views, of course.
As I reach the rocky part, two of our party are backing down. I can’t really blame them. The last scramble to the peak is like scrambling up a slippery dragon’s back. Note to self: good shoes are a must, and a bit of bravery helps too.
But here’s the thing – the view is absolutely worth it! Once you emerge from the bush line, the landscape unfurls in every direction. Rolling green farmland, winding rivers, distant hills and clouds playing tag with the sun. The kids are awestruck and so am I. It’s the kind of view that makes you forget you’re sweating and just feel incredibly alive.
At the Top
The summit is a small, flat-ish spot and we pull out our phones for photos. I sort of wish I’d brought something for the kids to snack on, at least so they might sit down for a couple of minutes. It’s not a Guinness World climb at 280 meters above sea level but it’s high enough to make me nervous as they casually stray too close to the edge. We sit for a few minutes, taking it in. It’s peaceful up here and it’s easy to understand how Māori legend has it that Tokatoka is said to be a place of spiritual significance. I really can’t imagine that this place looked much different a thousand years ago. Minus the nearby farms and pub perhaps.
To this end, Jim Eagles from the NZ Herald refers to a story sheet in the Tokatoka Pub, telling of how Tokatoka came about:
“It seems the peak was among a group of small mountains that arrived in the area from Hawaiiki looking for a new home. The biggest of these, Manaia, strode far ahead and soon came to rest at the head of Whangarei Harbour. The others hung back, worrying about whether it was safe to cross the [Northern] Wairoa River, and when they did take the plunge one was drowned.
As a result the remaining mountains, including Maungaraho and Tokatoka, decided to stay put and are still there today.”
We’re pretty glad that Tokatoka decided to stay put. Likewise the great humpback shape of Maungaraho is easy to spot from here. It sits a few kilometres away, inland from the river, near Arapohue. It’s a pleasant drive out there too and a walking track goes round the base. It’s possible to climb to the summit from which there are also great views. But I have to confess that the memories of the climb from childhood put me off. I remember being absolutely terrified!
For now, I stay put. A shower comes across and we get a few drops. A rainbow appears across the river and we try to catch the splendor in our photography. It’s all in vain. The photos just don’t do this view justice and I take it in for a bit longer as the group begins to descend before me.
The Long Way Down
Our descent is careful and steady. Pro tip: coming down is much trickier than going up, especially when you’ve got excited (and nervous) little explorers. My kids practically bound down like mountain goats. However, it falls on my cousin, Roseanna, to coach my nephew, Dash, down. She does an amazing job. I follow him but am not much use, struggling myself with gumboots and aching joints. In the end, we all make it with muddy knees, big smiles and enough photos to fill a scrapbook.
Good To Know
Tokatoka Peak isn’t the biggest or most famous hike in New Zealand, but that’s part of the charm. It’s wild, quiet and steeped in both geological wonder and cultural history. And for us, it was the perfect half-day adventure to bond as a family, get our hearts pumping and see the world from a new perspective—literally and figuratively.
So if you’re traveling through Northland and want an off-the-beaten-path gem that’ll ignite your inner adventurer (and your kids’ imaginations), Tokatoka’s waiting.
Would I Return?
Yes.