Gillespie Pass Circuit - Off to Siberia

The Southern Alps

On My Way

Having successfully weathered the storm and two day delay in Wellington, I arrive as planned in Queenstown.  The flight to South Island kept me glued to the window since I was seeing the so-called "Southern Alps" for the first time.  Enraptured by seemingly endless mountain ranges, I was ready to return to the wilderness.

Queenstown is a resort town in the Otago region, and is considered a major hub for many recreational activities found in the area.  I would spend one night here before traveling north to Makarora, and I would return once my adventure in Mt. Aspiring National Park was completed.

Getting Around

Before I launch into sharing my next backpack, I want elaborate on navigating both North and South Islands without a car.  When planning this month long journey, a key component was getting from Point A to Point B.  Many visitors to New Zealand elect to hire a car, or in some cases a "caravan" (self contained camper).  I considered the option, but several factors dissuaded me from choosing this route.

Going the Wong Way

First and foremost is cost.  I'm not cheap, but I generally travel solo and would bear the expense alone.  The price of fuel is high in New Zealand, and rental fees plus insurance increases the outlay significantly.  Also spending multiple nights in the backcountry meant any vehicle I was renting would sit unused for that time.

Lastly there is the fact that many roads are narrow and winding, and drivers use the left side here.  While I am sure I could have made the adjustment, the thought I would be distracted by unfamiliar customs, terrain, and signage were issues I did not want to deal with.

Instead I discovered a practical and robust intranational transit system called Intercity.  Using the website or mobile app I was able to link all of my destinations together, and change or modify trips as needed.  The system has an option called Flexipass, which allows for selecting blocks of time.  Each trip is allotted a specific duration that is deducted from the amount purchased.  Time can be added as needed if plans change, and I found the process easy to use.

Intercity uses large modern coaches with big windows which are very comfortable.  This was a plus for me since I was able to spend my time just enjoying the scenery.  Not having to drive or be concerned about how to get where I was going made the experience much more relaxing, and in many cases the coach drivers were entertaining and informative.  When I return to New Zealand in the future I will definitely use the service again.

The Next Adventure

South Island is a different place altogether from North Island.  The landscape is significantly more mountainous, with multiple ranges stacked up along the southern and western coasts.  This is because South Island straddles a tectonic boundary between the Pacific and Australian plates.  Called the Alpine Fault, the subduction of the diving Australian plate forces land on the Pacific edge to rise, elevating and crumpling the terrain.

The abundance of peaks and high altitude environments are what led me to choose 3 of the 4 trekking routes on South Island.  I selected Gillespie Pass Circuit as one of the hikes because I could do the entire loop in 4 days, and there was an elective day hike I could attempt along the way.  And it sounded cool because I had to take a jetboat on the Wilkins River to reach the starting point.

Jetboating is a uniquely New Zealand experience - in fact the modern jetboat was invented here.  Many rivers in the lower valleys and plains are shallow, braided affairs, non-conducive to traditional outboard motors.  In 1950 an inventive fellow named Bill Hamilton needed a practical means of navigating rivers on the sheep station he was working on.  He learned of an American made model which he tried, but found still ineffective for his purpose.

Jet boats work by drawing water in and then using a nozzle at the rear of the craft to expel it.  He experimented with different configurations before coming up with the current design.  They have since evolved from an efficient way of travel into a booming tourist business.  Today thousands of visitors take trips up and down waterways at high rates of speed, skimming along in shallow water and executing hairpin turns in tight spaces.

Tuck - Mayor of Makarora

Makarora

After a quick night in Queenstown I boarded a coach for the 3 hour drive to Makarora.  It would be a mischaracterization to refer to Makarora as a town, but it does offer an airstrip, lodging, a couple of restaurants, and a petrol station.

Once I arrived, I checked in to the office of Wilkins River Jets. Other than providing people with exhilarating jetboat rides on the river, they offer scenic plane and helicopter flights over Mt. Aspiring National Park, as well as providing backcountry access to people like me.

I was the only passenger on the afternoon boat, which made sense as most people would have taken the morning ride to get an earlier start.  It really didn't matter to me since I was only hiking about 8 miles, and as it was summer there was plenty of daylight with enough time to get to the first hut.

Wilkins River

I did not take any pictures on the jetboat ride.  This was because once you get moving the driver of the boat is obligated* to show you a good time - this basically means slaloming across the river from side to side and taking the most aggressive line possible at a very high rate of speed.  Out of necessity I was holding on to the grab bar and thoroughly enjoying the experience.

*I have to admit - this guy has one of the most fun jobs I could ever imagine

Now We Walk

The jetboat delivered me several miles upstream to the start of the track.  When we arrived there was a sizable group of people waiting on the bank for a ride back to Makarora.  I gathered my things and with a big grin said thanks to the boat driver.  Within a few hundred yards I was alone and immersed in the peacefulness of the valley.

In a matter of minutes the track swung away from the river and onto the forested shoulder of the mountain.  Yes, I was back in the bush.

Unlike my first hike in Tongariro, this track had me following a river valley for much of the duration,  eventually climbing up and over Gillespie Pass into the next valley over.  But the pass was for another day - today my destination is Siberia Hut.

The hiking path was in reasonably good shape, and more like what I am accustomed to.  There were no boardwalks or staircases, just good old fashioned trail tread, roots, and rocks.  The canopy was dense in places but frequently opened up enough to see peaks rising around me.  As the mountains are fairly young in terms of geological age, they rise steeply from the valley floor.

Most of the lower elevations are primarily a boreal rainforest, with lots of trees, ferns, and mosses.  The alpine environment is limited to the highest altitudes, which is low relative to where I usually hike.  At home alpine landscapes are typically found above 11,000 feet, while here the southerly latitude allows for much lower presentation, around 7000 feet.

The close proximity to Antarctica and the abundance of high summits lead to frequent winter snow storms, providing meltwater in the warmer months to numerous creeks and streams.  I could see and hear multiple waterfalls cascading down precipitous slopes, eventually reaching the river below.

Copious water

Late summer snow

The weather was fine, mostly cloudy but rain free.  The highest mountains played hide and seek with the occasional squall, and I could see snowfields draping the loftier peaks.  I rock hopped across many smaller streams, and my desert sensibilities were reassured to see abundant water should I need to refill my bottle.

Since I was doing the trek in the opposite direction of what the majority of hikers choose, it appeared to that I had seen the "wave" of trampers on the riverbank where I was dropped off.  There was no one but me on the trail.  Although there wasn't a lot of elevation gain, there was somewhat of an uphill component, and the track was pretty rough in places.

Gets kind of rocky in spots

Trees grow on boulders here

If you look closely at the picture above, you'll see something on the lower right that I found everywhere I went in New Zealand - a trap.  Placed by the DOC, these snares are one way to address a pervasive problem in the country.

New Zealand is an island, and has been isolated from a continental connection for millions of years. As a result native fauna evolved without natural land predators.  This exemplified itself in a proliferation of avian species, especially flightless birds.  When European settlers arrived, they intentionally and unintentionally introduced a variety of mammals that found the local wildlife easy prey.

Thousands of traps in the backcountry

Essentially rats, weasels, stoats, ferrets, and other carnivorous creatures have decimated the bird population, and large scale efforts have been underway for years to eliminate these invasive animals.  This is a contentious issue in part because DOC also uses poisoned baits, which some people find objectionable.  Personally I think New Zealand has the right to protect their biodiversity, and I support the effort to defend native populations.

One of the things I enjoy about being outdoors in the summer months is the beauty of wildflowers.  I am familiar with many North American varieties, especially those found in the western part of the country.  But we're not in Kansas anymore, are we?  I found these southern hemisphere beauties along the way.  Despite consulting a reference book listing the most common species in New Zealand I was unable to identify them.

After several hours of enjoyable walking in solitude, I sighted the valley where I would find Siberia Hut.  Local lore has it that the area received the name when an early explorer struggled so much with the terrain they decided it was as unpleasant as Siberia.  I haven't been to Siberia so I can't comment on any similarity.  Didn't seem that bad to me.

Siberia Valley

Siberia Hut at the edge of the valley 

I reach my destination and gladly unshoulder my pack.  It's tradition for trekkers to leave their hiking shoes outside the hut, as trail conditions can be very muddy at times.  This generally helps keep things a bit more tidy, and usually most hikers are more than willing to give their hot, sweaty feet some cool air.  Having camp shoes/sandals is a very good idea for this purpose.

Another hut tradition is signing in and/or showing the warden (if there is one) your "ticket" proving you have reserved space for the night.  There is a log book for recording your visit and ongoing intentions, which is useful if Search and Rescue needs to locate a missing person.  Once formalities are observed you pick a bunk in a dormitory and make yourself at home.

I'll be here for two nights before continuing on.  One of my goals for this trek is to complete a day hike to Crucible Lake.  The warden tells me the weather has been wetter than usual and there are two unbridged river crossings that could be impacted if rain is in the forecast.  She'll have an updated weather report at 6:00 a.m. the next morning and I should know then if it's wise to attempt it.  

I've already had to jump through a few hoops because of Mother Nature, so I figure I'll deal with it as it comes.  Lo que será, será - whatever will be, will be.

 

 

Weather Or Not.... Wellington

The Pacific from the hills above Wellington

A Quick Recap (or How I Got Here)

I planned my trip to New Zealand around 4 iconic hikes, taking place over the course of a month during late summer in the Southern Hemisphere.  The first of the outdoor adventures was a 4 day/3 night backpack in Tongariro National Park, located in the central part of North Island.

The Round the Mountain Track is a circuit of Mt. Ruapehu, traversing the flanks of the mountain through bush and volcanic desert ecosystems.  The terrain proved far more challenging than I anticipated, but the primary factors in my decision to abandon the hike after 3 days was deteriorating weather and the onset of a sinus infection.

After leaving the track I arrived in the town of Okahune, located at the base of the mountain.  Once I had checked into a motel and visited the pharmacy for decongestant relief, it was time to assess the next step in my journey.  The original plan called for me to travel by coach to Wellington on the southern coast, and then cross Cook Strait via interisland ferry to South Island.

Turning Lemons Into, Well You Know....

When making arrangements months in advance, I took it on faith that everything would proceed as anticipated.  But as I sat in an Ohakune hotel room watching local news, the weather forecast upended my carefully crafted plans.  The storm that chased me off the mountain was intensifying, and high winds and significant rain were now anticipated over all of North Island.  Extreme conditions were expected to lead to cancellation of all ferry sailings and domestic flights between the islands.

Having no influence on the weather, I had no choice but to accept what was and change my approach.  Essentially I would be stranded in Wellington for at least two extra days, with no way to make it to my lodging and transportation connections on South Island.

I have since learned that ferry disruptions are a major headache for residents and visitors, and weather is not the only reason ships can't cross.  Mechanical issues and failed safety inspections frequently lead to a ship being stuck in port.  When cancellations occur both cargo and people stack up, leading to further delays in being able to cross the Strait.

In five days my next backpacking outing was supposed to depart from Makarora, a hamlet in the southern region of South Island.  But first I had to get to Queenstown to make the connection.  Being large enough to offer regular air service from Wellington, I elected to schedule a flight in 3 days, hoping conditions would allow resumption of travel.  I cancelled all prior reservations, trusting the new plan would get me where I needed to be on time.

Now the question of what to do in the interim was my next concern.  Fortunately Wellington is a major city, home to a wide variety of diversions and attractions.  This post is about my unexpected time there.

Wellington 

After two rainy but recuperative days in Ohakune, I boarded a coach and traveled south.  Wellington is 1) New Zealand's third largest city, 2) the world's southernmost capital city,  and 3) is ranked as the 4th most livable city (tied with Tokyo).  Two major universities and the seat of government are primary influences on the culture.  Oh, and 4) it is also the world's windiest city, which became obvious to me while the storm was still in play.

Many young people come from around the Indo-Pacific region to study, making the city quite diverse with a youthful and surprisingly creative vibe.  I also couldn't help but notice the wide array of different cuisines, with food from around the region as well as lots of international fare represented.

I had essentially two free days before flying to Queenstown, and I decided to navigate the city on foot and by using the extensive transit system.  I needed to resupply items that were either used up or required replacement (food, rain pants and a pack cover), and that meant visiting different areas to find what I was looking for - a perfect excuse to explore.

Aside from that I had some elective time; and settled on a guided tour of Wētā Workshop, as well as a visit to one of the more impressive institutions in New Zealand - Te Papa, the National Museum.  More about these places later.

Like Auckland, walking around the Central Business District was very interesting.  The city is a primary financial hub in the region, and tall skyscrapers share street space with historic older buildings.  Wellington also serves as a major port, with cargo terminals surrounding the harbor to facilitate the import/export trade.

The city itself is situated on the southwestern coast of North Island amidst rolling but relatively steep hills.  Its location on Cook Strait and direct southern exposure makes Wellington a frequent target of storms that originate in the Roaring Forties, which explains the well deserved "windiest city" designation.  Many parks and preserves are located in and around the metropolitan area, and the maritime climate supports lush greenery.

After completing my necessary errands, I had the opportunity to see two notable attractions that Wellington offers.

Wētā Workshop 

The story of Wētā is fascinating to me.  When NZ native Peter Jackson made the fateful decision to attempt a movie adaptation of the monumental Lord of the Rings trilogy, he had to find a way to bring his vision to life.  Enter Peter's collaborator and fellow Kiwi Richard Taylor, founder of RT Productions, a small creative company that previously worked on creatures, prosthetics, and makeup for television productions.

In 1993 Peter had approached Richard about producing effects for his films Heavenly Creatures and The Frighteners.  This led to Peter joining the company which was renamed Wētā Workshop, along with the creation of a CGI effects department called Wētā Digital (Wētā is a Maori word describing a group of large arthropod insect species native to New Zealand).  These modest entities would form the homegrown backbone of one of the most ambitious film projects in history.

With a relatively limited budget, the producers of the Lord of the Rings (LOTR) movies were faced with the daunting task to design and manufacture every prop, costume (including weapons and armor), and structure for the sweeping tapestry created by author J.R.R. Tolkien.  This included all CGI special effects and miniatures to augment physical sets and landscapes.  

In a somewhat unorthodox but brilliant decision, principal filming of all three movies was completed simultaneously over the course of a year.  Every shot was made on location in New Zealand, which given the geographic diversity of the country is understandable.  Post-production would take another several years, with emphasis on large scale special effects, many of which Wētā Digital invented for the films.

Artwork commemorating Wētā in Wellington

In spite of the challenges this superlatively creative group managed something like a miracle, and the trilogy went on to become a tremendous critical and financial success. Their triumph established the divisions of Wētā as heavy hitters in the film industry.  

In the years since the release of the LOTR films, Wētā has become one of the most prominent production companies in the world.  With many Academy Awards and other cinematic prizes attesting to the quality of the work, Wētā has become a significant contributor to the Wellington economic picture.

At present most of what Wētā does takes place in far flung locations across New Zealand and other countries.  Accordingly the Workshop is a showcase, a snapshot in time displaying props, miniatures, and costumes from previous productions.  There is also an in-house armory for the production of weapons ranging from medieval to alien death rays.

The tour takes place over a few hours, with a guide sharing all kinds of insider knowledge including how certain effects are achieved, and anecdotes about behind the scenes incidents.  Overall it was interesting and certainly worthwhile.  Incidentally, the price of the tour included pickup and dropoff from the city center - this was a plus as the shuttle driver for my group was quite entertaining, providing lots of supplemental information about the city enroute to the Workshop.

I won't spoil the experience by divulging too much - I'll just share pictures of what I was allowed to photograph (unfortunately most stuff is off limits due to licensing agreements).

A Troll from The Hobbit

"I'm going to squash you into jelly..."

Turned to stone by the rising sun

One of many miniatures

A prosthetic mask of some really ugly dude

"My precioussssssss....."

Te Papa

Te Papa

When used in the context of the National Museum, the Maori words Te Papa translate to "the Treasure Box" or "Container of Treasures".  It's a very apt description of one of the most comprehensive collections of art, artifacts, specimens, and exhibits regarding Aotearoa (New Zealand).

With an emphasis on biculturalism, the Museum aims to provide a space to tell the story of Maori and European settlers whose shared home includes immense geographical and biological diversity.

Housed in a modern multistory structure in central Wellington, Te Papa is the crown jewel of New Zealand's artistic, cultural, and natural history.  With over 2 million objects in the collection, there is something for everyone here.  Free for New Zealand residents, international visitors pay a modest 35.00 (NZD) for a full day pass.

Gallipolli Exhibit

I only had part of the day to visit, and I am truly sorry I did not get to see more of what is available, but I have to admit I gave most of my attention to a truly jaw-dropping exhibit focused on New Zealand's role in the invasion of Gallipolli.  

Covering the disastrous early World War I campaign, there is substantial space devoted to the experience of Australian and New Zealand soldiers who participated in the long, grueling, and ultimately unsuccessful attempt to open another front in the war.

Part of what makes visiting an institution like Te Papa worthwhile is that something new can be presented in a way that makes you want to learn more, and that is exactly what happened to me.  The exhibit is designed to be immersive, and I found myself seeking to explore the details of what happened and why.  When I returned home I spent time on a deeper dive into the history of the invasion, and I discovered things that were previously unknown to me.

For me the most impressive part of the presentation is the inclusion of 8 large figures sculpted at 2.4 times their original size.  These portray the stories of New Zealanders and their personal experience during the brutal months long conflict.  Coincidentally, these enormous depictions were created by Wētā, taking over 24,000 hours to produce.  I attempted to capture some of the amazing detail with these photos, but like many things they are poor representations of the actual objects.

What we call PTSD was referred to then as "shell shock"

Rations were less than appetizing

On the left - see the tiny human?

The doctor's face says it all

The rage of battle

 

Meticulous detail, down to the fly

Sad news for loved ones from the front

 

The realism that Wētā achieved is astonishing, including details as fine as individual hairs on a soldiers hand.  The facial expressions alone made me believe that the figures would suddenly turn and speak.

One of the important ideas conveyed by the exhibit is the coalescing of a national identity for New Zealanders.  Although they became involved in World War I as a result of their association with the UK Commonwealth, afterwards they began to see themselves a separate and unique people.  And the casualties were not limited to descendants of settlers; Maori people fought and died alongside their countrymen.

When I finally managed to pull myself away from the Gallipolli exhibit I spent my remaining time with the natural history and environmental presentations, but honestly I could go back for at least another day to give the rest of the Museum its full due.  Next time, I promise.

After spending two unanticipated but thoroughly enjoyable days in New Zealand's capital city, the weather cleared as hoped for and I boarded a flight to Queenstown on South Island for my next destination - The Gillespie Track in Mt. Aspiring National Park.

 

Tongariro National Park - Round The Mountain Track

North Island - Tongariro National Park

Mt. Ruapehu - the heart of Tongariro

My flight from the U.S. took me to Auckland, and it made sense that the first of my planned hikes should begin with North Island.

When spending extended periods in the outdoors, I usually prefer mountainous alpine or sub-alpine geography.  Based on that criteria there are two regions on North Island that appealed to me. One is Taranaki, the other is Tongariro National Park. 

Taranaki is located on the far southwestern coast, while Tongariro is found in the central part of the island.  Each park encompasses landscapes with high summits and lofty elevations.  And both are volcanic in nature, which is a defining characteristic of the highest North Island environments.

Of the two, Tongariro is larger and has more options for hiking in alpine and sub alpine terrain; in addition some key Taranaki tracks are closed long term due to erosion and rockfall hazards.  Since I wanted a multiday outing it made more sense to focus my attention on Tongariro.  

In Tongariro the most popular trek by far is an extended day hike known as the Tongariro Alpine Crossing.  Requiring a shuttle to complete, this strenuous track takes the hiker up and over the heart of the volcanic/alpine environment.  Another popular option is the Tongariro Northern Circuit, a multi-day trip covering even more of the area.  My choice was to do something called the Round The Mountain Track, which is just what it sounds like.

I really had no idea what to expect other than what I had read online.  I envisioned this hike to be a reasonably challenging circumnavigation of the volcanically active Mt. Ruapehu, traversing the slopes well below the summit but at a relatively high elevation.  As is usually the case when making assumptions about things I have no firsthand knowledge of, my experience turned out to be somewhat different - more on that later.

At approximately 41 miles, the loop can be walked in either direction, but the Department of Conservation (DOC) recommends studying weather forecasts carefully as two unbridged river crossings occur at either the start or end of the loop, and rising water from heavy rain can render them impassable.  I chose a clockwise direction encountering the rivers at the conclusion of the hike, with the option of bailout routes available should conditions deteriorate.

Know Before You Go....

DOC rates the track as Advanced, and recommends 4 - 6 days to complete the circuit.  I gave myself 4 days/3 nights to complete the route, which seemed reasonable with an average of 10 miles a day.  However since hikers must stay at designated huts, the distance between them would determine how far I would have to walk each day.

I chose to stay at Waihohonu, Mangaehuehu, and Whakapapaiti huts.  Of the three, Waihohonu is part of the Northern Circuit track, and it is fully booked during peak season, so reservations well in advance are essential.

Huts are Awesome, but....

Huts ranging from primitive to highly developed exist on most hiking tracks in New Zealand, and they offer trampers some level of comfort to make the experience more enjoyable.  Every hut provides basic commodities - shelter, bunks in shared dormitories, some type of water source (subject to rain/snow collection), a space to prepare meals, and pit toilets.

The bigger huts generally have more amenities, being serviced with gas for cooking, solar powered lighting, and in some cases a wood stove with a supply of firewood.  Most of the largest huts are found on Great Walk tracks, and these typically have a Hut Warden to check visitor permits, provide information, and keep order.

However.... it is strongly advised by DOC to carry emergency shelter (i.e., a tent) and extra food in the event weather or some other unforeseen occurrence prevents you from reaching a hut. 

There are many rivers in New Zealand, and you can't count on the existence of a bridge.  In the event of heavy rain it is likely you will have to wait for floodwater to recede before being able to safely cross.  Also, if you fall ill or are injured mid-trail and can't self evacuate, you need a means to protect yourself from the elements until help arrives.

I carried a full pack like I would on any trip, with equipment for such contingencies.  My experience has taught me being prepared is the difference between an enjoyable time and an existential struggle.  Huts are great, but make no mistake - they only offer refuge if you can get to them. I saw many people hiking without extra gear, relying entirely on the huts - not smart in my opinion, but it comes down to what you are personally comfortable with.

Day One - Whakapapa to Waihohonu Hut

Maori Totem at the Visitor Center

 

The day before my hike I made the trip from Auckland to the community of National Park, where I spent the night.  The next morning arrived with mostly clear skies and favorable temperatures as I took a shuttle to reach Whakapapa Visitor Center, the starting point for Round The Mountain track.

From the outset the trail is well developed, beginning in what is called the "bush", a Kiwi expression for a heavily wooded/vegetated environment.  Unsurprisingly the trees were unfamiliar to me (mostly Mountain Beech) as were most of the plants in the understory.  I got to see a lot more of the bush before the month was over.

The first part of the track leads to Taranaki Falls, a popular day hike as it is only a couple of miles each way.  I saw numerous people on that first day - but after departing from Waihohonu Hut I didn't see anyone else until I left the trail at Ohakune Mt. Road 2 days later.

 

Bridges and well built paths

The Bush

Taranaki Falls

Once you leave Taranaki Falls the path climbs up to open tableland, featuring tussocks and expansive vistas of the mountain.  Visitors looking for a longer day hike can continue to Tama Lakes from here.

Yup, that looks like a volcano

I was surprised at how well developed the track was, with many thousands of linear feet of wooden planking for long stretches. The labor and expense required to construct the path had to be substantial.

Along the way I passed a couple of vigorous streams which originate on the flanks of Mt. Ruapehu.  I should mention at this point that Tongariro has the distinction of being New Zealand's first National Park, with the land being donated to the Crown by Maori people for protection.  Visitors are expected to respect the sacred nature of the landscape.  This is why camping at large along the track is not permitted, and hikers are asked to refrain from swimming in lakes and streams.

The distance to my first nights accommodation was not far, only about 8.5 miles.  I had planned the trip around averaging 10 miles a day, and any distance short of that would have to be added to another day's total. But that's just the way it is; once I reached Waihohonu I could advance no further until the next morning.

Waihohonu Hut

Waihohonu Hut is fairly new, having been constructed within the last few years.  As such it is large and airy, and accommodates a respectable number of trekkers.  It has gas cooktops, tables, solar powered lights, non-flush toilets, 28 bunks, and water.  The water comes from rain/snow falling on the metal roof which is collected in cisterns.  Signs warn it must be treated or boiled before use but the hut warden told me she drank it everyday with no issues.  I had a filter and used it just to be safe.

The hut warden was personable and great to talk with.  She had lots of interesting information to share and was very welcoming.  I settled in to the hut, chose a bunk, ate dinner, and reflected on an enjoyable first day hiking in a foreign land.  I burrowed into my sleeping bag for the night with high hopes for the next day.

Day Two - Waihohonu to Mangaehuehu Hut 

The next morning brought two unwelcome developments.  First and foremost I woke in the pre-dawn hours with an unpleasant scratchiness in the back of my throat.  I have enough experience with that particular sensation to know that it presaged a sinus infection, which I seem to get once or twice a year.  And not at all surprising since two days before I had spent 12 hours in an enclosed metal tube with 300 other people breathing the driest air known to mankind.

Mars? The Moon?

The other issue was a low pressure system that moved in overnight with misting rain, wind, and sullen grey skies - the perfect accompaniment to my soon-to-be stuffy head.  In spite of it all I was there to hike, so I packed up my stuff and resumed the trek towards the next hut - Mangaehuehu.

Immediately after leaving Waihohonu, the character of the landscape changed dramatically, along with the nature of the the track.  I found myself in a stark, nearly barren volcanic desert, and what had been well maintained trail became a chaotic ramble through abundant rocks ranging from pebbles to basketball (and larger) sized stones.

The route was now marked by a series of posts, some topped with an orange triangle .  The post ahead was spaced to be visible from the marker you just passed, but when low clouds and fog rolled through could be hard to spot.  Trying to keep the same heading, I often had to hunt for the next marker to be sure I was still moving in the right direction.

Progressing on somewhat level terrain at first, soon a seemingly endless series of deep gullies and high ridges began to appear.  The rocky slopes were steep, and no actual trail allowed for picking the path of least resistance. I took almost no pictures during the day, primarily because I was focused on keeping my footing.  The image below is one of the few I captured, and it shows the general condition of the route.  If you look closely you can see posts marking the direction of travel.

If you like rocks, we got rocks.

It had been consistently windy all morning, but the intensity began to increase as the day went on.  I estimate the winds were blowing at a steady 30 - 40 miles per hour, with higher gusts.  No trees or vegetation exist to provide a windbreak, and on the many exposed ridges the winds were at their strongest.  This sometimes made it difficult to stand upright, especially with a big pack presenting a large cross section.  As I stumbled along a hill crest trying to keep my feet, a particularly strong blast ripped the rain cover off my pack, and I watched helplessly as it tumbled away down the slope.

I'm usually able to maintain some perspective when hiking in difficult environments, realizing it's all part of the experience.  Years ago I learned an expression that is useful in situations like this: "Embrace the Suck"

I am not ashamed to admit there were times I really struggled here.  My newly arrived head cold, the wind and rain, the lost pack cover, and the fact that I was making very slow progress all combined to discourage me in ways that I generally don't experience.

By early afternoon I had covered more than half the distance, but by the time I reached Rangipo Hut I was nearly spent.  The terrain had proved far harder than anticipated, and there were no indications it would improve ahead.  Then I saw the DOC sign indicating that it would take the average person 6 hours to travel the next 5.5 miles - that's less than a mile per hour.

Not a helpful sign at Rangipo Hut

Fortunately the hut allowed me a place to stop for much needed rest, and an opportunity to get out of the weather while replenishing calories and hydrating.  After about 40 minutes I felt some of my energy return.  Despite a lack of enthusiasm I knew I had no choice but to keep going.  I loaded up once more and headed out.

Down, over, and up - one of many

I'd like to say I was rejuvenated and tackled the remaining miles with renewed vigor, but in reality the afternoon was just as hard.  I was already tired after 7 hours of hiking to reach Rangipo Hut, and conditions going forward were as difficult as what I had been dealing with all morning.  The only bright spot of the afternoon was the strong winds eventually subsided to an intermittent nuisance.  

One notable passage occurred when I came to a sign warning that the next 1/2 mile was a very dangerous section, and hikers should proceed through it as quickly as possible.

The area in question was yet another barren, rocky river valley, but here the unmistakable sulphur stench of volcanic fumes filled the air, and the water was a muddy brown slurry.  The river originates near the active vent of Mt. Ruapehu, and in the past has been the conduit for multiple lahars, a violent, fast-moving debris flow composed of a slurry of water, mud, pyroclastic material, and rocky debris.

The channel provides evidence of past lahars

One person at a time - even then it felt sketchy 

The smell alone was enough to prompt me to move along, although climbing out of the valley was anything but quick - a slow, awkward pace on the steep, rocky, and unstable slope was all I could manage.  Still, it was a relief to leave the danger zone behind.

After lots of stops and starts and more than a few bad words directed at my own foolishness for underestimating the track, I reached Mangaehuehu Hut.  The sign was not wrong -  It took me just over 6 hours to struggle through the broken landscape to arrive at my destination.

I had seen no one all day, and the hut was likewise empty.  I literally collapsed on the bunk, unable to do more than just lie there for 30 minutes.  Unfortunately that was a mistake, because when I attempted to stand every muscle in my legs immediately seized with massive cramps.

It took some time and stretching for the cramps to subside, but once they did I started a fire in the wood stove.  And above the stove - a very useful wooden rack which could be raised/lowered to hang wet gear and clothes.  Nearly everything I owned was suspended on this indoor "clothesline" to dry.

One other event marred my otherwise "perfect" day - climbing over the steepest, rockiest parts of the route had caused my rain pants to split through the crotch.  After dinner I spent time with needle and thread attempting to repair them by headlamp - I managed to pull the two halves together but ended up making them so tight they eventually split again.

All in all it was one of the least favorite hiking days I've ever had, but the bottom line is I survived to tell the story.  And most fortunately it was the only truly awful day I experienced for the rest of the trip, although New Zealand still had a few things to teach me.  And as a reward of sorts for the difficulties I encountered, I got a great sunset.  Plus since no one else showed up, I had the place all to myself.  So, not all bad.

My first New Zealand sunset

Day Three - Mangaehuehu to Whakapapaiti.... Almost

I should have fallen into an exhausted sleep immediately on crawling into my sleeping bag, but when I have pushed my body to its physical limit it is sometimes difficult to find rest.  Also my head was very congested, so it took a while before I finally slipped into a restless slumber.

I awoke around 6:30 the next morning to the sound of rain.  The night before the clouds had broken, giving me false hope that the weather would be more cooperative, but it was not to be.  At least my stuff was dry thanks to the fire I had set in the wood stove - a small mercy. I gathered my things, ate a meager breakfast, loaded my pack, and headed out into the drizzle.

Just prior to reaching Mangaehuehu Hut the previous day, the landscape had changed back to bush.  That didn't make the going easier, just different.  The folds and creases of the mountain flanks necessitated climbing into and out of numerous drainages like the day before.  But the rocks had all but disappeared, with the terrain becoming muddier, marshier, and dense with vegetation.

As a result, long stretches of planking like I had seen in the beginning returned.  These walkways are mostly elevated above ground, and in places many, many steps negotiate the multiple ups and downs of the landscape.

Mind the gaps

Cable bridges

Lots of steps

Miles of boardwalk

The skies remained moisture laden as the day progressed, and views beyond the immediate surroundings were very limited.  While it had been raining fairly steadily through the morning, showers became more numerous and heavy that afternoon.  I started to consider I might not be able to cross the two unbridged rivers ahead.  Accordingly my thoughts turned to the next bailout opportunity and modifying my plan.

Fortunately there's a road (Ohakune Mountain Road) visitors use to reach the flanks of Mt. Ruapehu, and it is fairly heavily trafficked in the summer months.  I decide if rain is still coming down when I reach that point I will try to get a ride down to the nearest town - my head and ears are thoroughly congested and I'd like to try to find some type of medicine that will unclog me.

Before I get to the road, I come to one of the places people visit using the road - Waitonga Falls.

I have Arrived...

 

Waitonga Falls 

Sadly I'm not that interested in a side hike to the falls, mostly because I am soaked through to the skin, and my skull is pounding with a sinus headache.  I carry on doggedly through the bush heading for the exit.

Once I reach the road and parking area for Waitonga the skies really open up and confirm my strong desire to retreat to civilization.  Fortunately I only have to wait about 15 minutes in the driving rain before someone heading down takes pity and offers me a ride.

I arrive in the town of Ohakune, an unforeseen destination with my attempt to complete the Round The Mountain Track brought to an untimely end.  It's also where the storm I didn't see coming has something to say about my future plans.  But after finding a place to stay, it's off to the pharmacy in search of some much needed congestion relief.  

Coming Up: Man Proposes, Nature Disposes.

Spiderwebs capture droplets of rain