Every beautiful thing came from the Papahaua mountains, and the trees were its lifeblood | Becky Manawatu

Not only did the mountains seem to watch us, they stimulated a hunger to scour the forest floors and decipher codes stamped in lichen

• Guardian writers and readers describe their favourite place in New Zealand's wilderness and why it's special to them

Although claiming a wild place as your favourite could be a masked attempt to tame it, the land either side of State Highway 67, between Big Ditch and Jones Creek just north of Waimangaroa, is my favourite. This stretch of highway which, if you're heading north, has a row of houses to your left and a railway and the great Papahaua mountain range to your right, is called Birchfield.

There are no off-streets or gas stations. Not a single corner, nor corner store. Just some houses, several paddocks and, as of recently, one radio astronomy observatory. Perhaps it sounds a tame place, and to an extent - on a quick drive through the settlement - that's fair.