The Other Side of the World - New Zealand

 

Auckland

A Different Perspective

I have lived a fortunate life in many ways - I have access to one of the most beautiful regions on the planet, and for many years explored extensively into remote and breathtaking places that enriched my soul and inspired my mind.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I haven't seen every place on the Colorado Plateau that is worthy of visiting, but life has a way of redirecting purpose and plan.  In my case that redirection included a realization that time is slipping away, and any ideas I had about seeing other incredible places would need to become a priority.

On my list of things to do:  Visit one of the most diverse and scenic countries found anywhere - New Zealand.  I thought at one point I would like to hike Te Araroa, the Kiwi* version of a National Scenic trail.  This serious physical undertaking would require around 4 months of living out of my backpack, something I've done before but never in a foreign land.  After reading quite a lot about the conditions I would likely face, I decided I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment.

*New Zealanders are commonly referrred to as "Kiwis", a reference to the small flightless bird that has become a national symbol

Instead I chose a much more modest goal - spending a month in pursuit of a variety of backpacking trips, a sampler of sorts.  Now a month may sound like a good amount of time, but I have learned that it really only allowed me to get a glimpse of the possibilities.  Over the course of the next several posts I will present the hikes I did manage, and hopefully inspire others to make the journey to this truly magical place.

Getting There

The most amazing thing to me about traveling from America to New Zealand is the idea that you can board a plane in Phoenix and 14 hours later you are on the opposite side of the world.  I went in February, technically winter here in the U.S. but summer "down under".  To be fair, we didn't have much of winter here, and perversely the weather in Aotearoa (the Maori word for New Zealand) was distinctly un-summer like for at least part of my visit.  As a seasoned outdoor enthusiast I was prepared for whatever Nature chose to offer, but everywhere I went people talked about how unseasonably cool and rainy the season had been.

The major international airport is in Auckland, on North Island.  The country has a distinct personality based on the 2 major islands that make up the landscape, and I spent time on both to try and get a sense of the geography.  More on the differences in subsequent posts.

My Thoughts and Observations On Arrival

Downtown and the Sky Tower

 

My first impression of course was the city of Auckland itself.  With a population of nearly 2 million (close to 35% of the country's total), the city is an interesting mix of old and new.  The downtown business district has the requisite number of sleek modern skyscrapers, and surrounding areas reflect a variety of architectural styles dating back to the early to mid 1900's.  Because the country is relatively "young" by most standards, any sense of history truly belongs to the indigenous population, the Maori.

There is a very strong Maori influence in many aspects of New Zealand culture, quite the opposite of what we see here in the U.S.  All official aspects of Aotearoa life are presented in both English and Maori languages, and there is a greater awareness of Maori presence in everyday life.  Despite this I saw the majority of people sleeping rough (homeless) to be of Maori descent, a sign that modern life has left many of the native people behind.

A Cruise Ship at Queen's Wharf

There is also a pronounced Southeast Asian influence and presence in the city, not a surprise given the proximity to this part of the world.  It appears that not only is New Zealand a popular tourist destination, but many people from Asian countries come here to go to university and also to work.  I met many students and temporary workers who were here on various types of work visas, spending roughly 4 months doing mostly menial jobs in return for a month of leisure travel.

Prior to visiting, I had been reading as much as possible about the current state of affairs just so I would be aware of my surroundings, and one of the most common themes is that the New Zealand economy was struggling quite a bit, especially in terms of wages and opportunities.  This has led to an exodus of Kiwis, mostly to Australia where jobs are more plentiful and pay is higher.  Like America, there appears to be no shortage of service related jobs, but wages in the sector are uniformly low, and most positions were held by international citizens here on work/holiday visas.

There is lots of greenery in and around the city.  The major metropolitan area is situated amidst low hills and lots of open space.  Because it is a maritime climate plants and trees of many varieties (native and invasive) thrive, imparting a very pleasing aesthetic. 

Overlooking a settler cemetery in the city

 

Although I am not a city person, overall my impression was quite favorable.  Everyone was friendly, and I never felt unsafe walking the streets.  Getting around was easy, as the Auckland Transit system is comprehensive, affordable and timely.  And because at the time the exchange rate was currently well in favor of the dollar, most things were quite affordable.

Of course, I didn't travel halfway around the world to see the city, so with all due haste I made my way to the interior of the country. Up Next: The First Backpack - Tongariro National Park

 

The Sierra

Half Dome

The first time I ever saw the Sierra Nevada (Spanish for "snow covered mountains") was in 2016, on a student trip I was leading to Yosemite National Park.  The overall intention of the trip for the teacher and students was to summit Half Dome, a prominent granite spire in the heart of Yosemite Valley.  We were there for a total of 4 days, and the itinerary was tightly structured, so the opportunity for me to explore was limited.  Nonetheless I was suitably impressed with the landscape and vowed to return in the future.

Little did I know then that my next encounter would occur 2 years later, when I would attempt to through hike the Pacific Crest Trail, a continuous 2600+ mile trek from Mexico to Canada through California, Oregon, and Washington.  That story is for another post, but on this occasion I entered the Sierra at a place called Kennedy Meadows, and for the next 400 miles walked through the most awe inspiring and rugged mountains I had ever seen.

Even though I traveled through the heart of the range, which extends north and south through central California, I did not have the luxury of time to enjoy it.  Hiking the PCT in a single season requires the diligence often associated with a full time job, as the hiker needs to average 18 miles per day in order to reach the Canadian border in Washington before the snow flies in the Cascade Range.  It was frustrating but necessary to pass quickly through the majesty of the "the range of light", which is how John Muir referred to the mountains.

When my PCT hike ended later that summer, I committed myself to return to the Sierra the following year and take more time to really see and experience the place.  Accordingly, I have been back on three separate occasions to immerse myself in the spectacular scenery.

The Range of Light

John Muir always disagreed with the name Sierra Nevada, proposing instead that the name given to the mountains reflect what he called their luminous quality.  I can't say that I disagree, as early morning and late afternoon light make the mountains appear to glow.  But in all fairness nevada is appropriate, as in winter the range can get buried in massive quantities of snow.

As the first geographic obstacle to storms originating from the Pacific Ocean, the peaks (many rising above 14,000 feet) wring prodigious amounts of water from the clouds, resulting in tens of feet of snow in a single storm and leaving the Great Basin region to the east without appreciable moisture.

Geographically defined as roughly 400 miles long and anywhere from 50 to 80 miles wide, the Sierra is part of what is known as the American Cordillera, a chain which roughly parallels the western edge of both North and South America.  This part of the range is relatively young, with uplift beginning around 5 million years ago.

Glaciers then carved steep valleys which resulted in some amazing prominence, defined as the verticality measured by distance from valley floor to peak.  On the eastern slope of the Sierra, it's not uncommon to see 10,000 feet of elevation gain in just a few miles, which helps explain the jaw dropping perspective.

The environment here is undeniably rugged.  Although there are a fair number of trails that allow travel into remote backcountry areas, they are inevitably steep, rocky, and subject to damage from rockfall or heavy spring runoff, and not all trails see maintenance or frequent use.

On extended trips such as the PCT or the John Muir Trail, the ability to resupply is extremely limited, in most cases requiring exiting the mountains via steep, high passes with a long descent to the nearest town, with a similarly difficult return trip.  And in much of the Sierra stringent bear deterrent measures are required, meaning all food must be carried and stored in approved bear resistant containers.

Muir Pass in early June 2018

Sierra weather is surprisingly temperate in the summer months, but snow can and does occur anytime of year, and after heavy snow years there can still be significant amounts that linger well into June and July, especially on north facing slopes and at higher elevations.  In those circumstances hikers would be wise to carry additional gear such as spikes or crampons, gaiters, and an ice axe (as well as the knowledge how to use it).

Of course snow melt is what feeds the numerous rivers, creeks and streams, with early season (May - June) runoff that can make it dangerous to ford the many unbridged crossings.

Also it is not uncommon during what is sometimes referred to the monsoon season (late July - August) to experience daily afternoon thunderstorms, which necessitate being well clear of higher, exposed areas like summits and passes due to frequent lightning.

The Lay of the Land 

Devil's Postpile National Monument

The Sierra encompasses a wide range of public lands, comprised of Sierra, Sequoia, Inyo, Tahoe, Eldorado, Stanislaus, and Plumas National Forests. Inclusive to the forests are designated Wilderness areas such as John Muir, Ansel Adams, Desolation, Emigrant, Dinkey Lakes, Monarch, Golden Trout, and South Sierra.

Then there's the National Parks and a Monument; Yosemite, mentioned at the beginning of this post, and Devil's Postpile National Monument near Mammoth Lakes.

Equally beautiful but not as well known is Kings Canyon - Sequoia National Park.  Here is found one of the oldest and largest living organisms, the mighty Sequoia tree.

Sequoia

The largest Sequoia ever discovered measured 311 feet tall, and another specimen had a trunk diameter of 29 feet.  If left to grow undisturbed, a lifespan over 3000 years is not uncommon.  The tree is natively found only in the Sierra, but has been introduced widely in other parts of the world.

The mountains themselves are composed mainly of granite, basement rocks formed deep underground.  The presentation is dominated by light colored, coarse grained multi-faceted stone, which is likely why Muir attributed an incandescent quality to their appearance.  The overall steepness, lack of soil, and harsh high altitude environment limits trees and other vegetation to low angle slopes and valley floors, leaving naked rock to soar high above the landscape.

Many people are surprised to learn that the highest mountain in the continental U.S. is not in Colorado.  Although the Rocky Mountains have 58 peaks that reach 14,000 feet or more, the prize goes to California for Mt. Whitney at 14,505 feet, with an additional 11 Sierra peaks rising over 14,000'.

Plaque placed in 1930

View from the summit of Mt. Whitney

Yours truly at the summit in 2018

The trail to the summit

A defining feature of traveling the Sierra are the many mountain passes.  The most commonly hiked trail south - north (or vice versa) incorporates both the PCT and the John Muir Trail, and traversing this route means encountering 9 major passes over 10,000 feet, with the highest being Forester Pass at 13,180'. Approaches and descents of the passes frequently require vertical gains/losses of 6000 feet or more; this combined with lower oxygen levels at altitude and a typically heavy pack means a sustained physical effort is needed to negotiate them.

Another primary feature that entrances me - water.  As a long time resident of the desert southwest, water is usually the most important consideration in any extended outdoor activity.  The absolute scarcity of this precious resource where I live is why I hold it in such reverence, and to travel in an area where it is abundant beyond need is a paradigm shift for me.

What It's All About 

I have spent a considerable amount of time in the Colorado Rockies, as well as extensive travel throughout the Intermountain West.  I lived in the foothills of the Wind River Mountains in Wyoming, a classic example of a superlative mountain range.  I'm no stranger to massive, towering peaks that reach for the sky.

But there is a something, an indefinable quality about the Sierra that gives me a feeling I have not experienced elsewhere - and it makes me keep wanting to go back for more. Whatever it is, I'm not the only one who has felt that way.

So instead of continuing to convince anyone what a profound effect the Sierra has had on me, I am going to simply post a selection of pictures from my travels to the region.  The images after all will do a much better job than I at trying to explain that feeling.