WILD HERITAGE
I WAS A 12-YEAR-OLD in 1990 when I set off with my uncles and cousin to tramp the Tararua Northern Crossing.
We began just east of Levin, and the trip did not get off to a good start. We followed the Ohau River, looking forward to a leisurely lunch at South Ohau Hut on the riverbank. But after sloshing upstream for more hours than expected, there was no sign of the hut. We sat down to consult the map and realised with horror that we'd missed a fork and were on the north branch of the river instead of the south. Shaking our heads at our stupidity, we trudged back to the forks then shook our heads some more. How did we miss such an obvious junction? Were we that unobservant? If only there had been some sort of marker to alert us to this critical confluence. If only someone had built a cairn…
Look around, cairns are everywhere. Marking tracks, high points and turn-offs; acting as gravestones or memorials; sometimes there for no reason at all. Assembled literally from stuff lying around, they are nature's most natural navigation aid, and one of civilisation's oldest constructions. Cairns have been used for centuries across countless cultures. In their
