Auckland's Volcanic Playgrounds: Hiking the City's Ancient Cones and Craters

Auckland sits atop a monogenetic volcanic field—meaning each volcano erupted just once, creating this scattered constellation of cones that punctuate the city's landscape like geological exclamation points. Rather than tackling them randomly, I crafted a five-day volcanic circuit that would take me through different neighborhoods while maximizing both sunrise and sunset photography opportunities.

I began with the Three Kings (Te Tātua-a-Riukiuta), where ancient Māori defensive terraces are still visible on the slopes. The morning light here casts long shadows across the scoria, revealing the human modifications to this natural fortress. From there, I moved to Maungakiekie/One Tree Hill, where the expansive Cornwall Park provided not just volcanic exploration but a chance to photograph grazing sheep against the backdrop of Auckland's skyline—a contrast that perfectly captures New Zealand's blend of urban and pastoral.

For navigation between these scattered volcanic gems, I relied heavily on my Garmin eTrex 22x. While most trails are well-marked, having precise GPS coordinates for sunrise positions and optimal photography vantage points proved invaluable, particularly for pre-dawn hikes when I was chasing that perfect morning light.

While Auckland's light pollution challenges serious astrophotography, I discovered that several volcanic cones offer surprisingly dark skies for urban stargazing. Equipped with my travel star chart and a thermos of chai, I spent three consecutive nights mapping the southern constellations from different vantage points.

Mangere Mountain in South Auckland provided the darkest skies, with its more remote location away from the city center. Here, I captured the Southern Cross hanging above the volcanic cone—a quintessentially Kiwi celestial scene. The symmetrical shape of the crater rim created a perfect natural frame for long-exposure photography.

The real revelation came when I discovered that certain viewpoints aligned perfectly with astronomical events. From North Head (not a volcano but a military defensive position with panoramic views), I photographed moonrise between Rangitoto Island's distinctive volcanic silhouette. Planning these shots required precise timing, which I managed using my sky tracking app subscription—an essential tool for any photographer interested in celestial events.

The cool autumn air meant I needed proper layering, and my merino wool base layer proved perfect for these night sessions, regulating temperature while I waited patiently for the perfect astronomical alignment.

No volcanic exploration of Auckland would be complete without visiting Rangitoto Island, the region's youngest and largest volcano at just 600 years old. The 25-minute ferry ride from downtown Auckland offers increasingly dramatic views of the symmetrical cone rising from the Hauraki Gulf.

Unlike the grass-covered cones of the mainland, Rangitoto presents a more primal volcanic landscape—fields of jagged black scoria, twisted pōhutukawa forests, and lava tubes that tunnel beneath the surface. The contrast between the harsh black rock and the vibrant red flowers of the pōhutukawa trees (when in bloom) creates a photographer's dream landscape.

The summit track winds through these varied ecosystems, eventually opening to a panoramic view that encompasses the entire Auckland isthmus. Here, I pulled out my pocket volcanic field guide to identify each of the distant cones dotting the city landscape.

Exploring the lava caves requires some scrambling and ducking through low passages. My headlamp proved essential here, illuminating the fascinating textures formed as molten rock cooled and solidified centuries ago. I spent nearly an hour photographing the intricate patterns where the lava had dripped from the cave ceiling, creating what looked like frozen waterfalls of stone.

What transformed my volcanic circuit from mere geological tourism to something deeper was understanding the cultural significance these landmarks hold for Māori. Many of Auckland's volcanic cones (maunga) were once pā sites—fortified settlements with elaborate terracing still visible today.

At Maungakiekie/One Tree Hill, I joined a guided cultural walk led by a local Māori elder who explained how the volcanic soil's fertility made these sites not just defensively advantageous but agriculturally precious. The terraces I had initially photographed for their geometric patterns gained new meaning as I learned they were sophisticated kumara (sweet potato) growing systems.

I spent one afternoon sketching the distinctive terracing patterns at different sites, noting how they followed the natural contours while maximizing growing space. These agricultural innovations spoke to a deep understanding of the landscape that predated European arrival by centuries.

The cultural significance extends beyond agriculture—many maunga are considered ancestors in Māori tradition. I was fortunate to witness a dawn ceremony at Maungawhau/Mount Eden where local iwi (tribes) gathered to greet the sun. The experience reminded me of similar dawn gatherings I'd witnessed in Pakistan during family visits, where connection to ancestral land transcended religious boundaries.

To record these cultural insights alongside my photographs, I used my waterproof notebook, which proved invaluable when unexpected autumn showers caught me mid-sketch on exposed volcanic slopes.