This summer, after so many years of wanting to make it down to the land that inspired the Lord of the Rings films to be created, Lindsay and i made the trip down south. For me, this was an inevitibility just like arctic Alaska; New Zealand was a place i had never been to but i knew it was a place that, once i visited, i would not be able to leave easily and i would long to return to, and I think for Lindsay it was the same. Its been more than month since we got on a plane to leave, Bali bound at the time, and we both cant help but think, almost daily, about picking up and moving South.
The trip was a bit of a whirlwind, we had 2 weeks to travel both islands. Not nearly enough time, however i dont know that i would ever have enough time to go everywhere and do everthing i wanted to.
We did get to experience a few wild slivers of New Zealand, though.
On a solo mission that Lindsay graciously volunteered to shuttle for, I got to run the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, supposedly one of the best treks in the world, or so the signs said. The signs also were adamant that I was doing the route backwards, but that's ok. An hour before dawn (which is nice and late in midwinter at 830 or so) I set off from the northern trailhead, off into the dark forest that immediately made me think I was more in Jurassic Park than Lord of the Rings; I was constantly looking back over my shoulder to make sure there wasn't a velocirapter hot on my tail. Luckily, the islands have no large natural predators and I had nothing to fear.
At dawn I emerged from the thick primordial forest into the alpine. The alpine zone in New Zealand, though, starts at like 2-3.5k feet above sea level, a bit of an oddity for me coming from the States where we have conifers that can better withstand the weather (fun fact, NZ doesn't have any native alpine zone pine/conifer trees outside of a juniper and a cedar). Looking uphill, I had a few thousand feet of climbing where I would gradually leave the tundra behind for raw volcanic rock. Looking off in the distance, however, there was a seemingly endless series of smaller forested mountains and lakes I was rising above. On the ascent, I passed some bathrooms, clearly a testament to how popular the route is, as they would have to be serviced by helicopter. The route itself is largely manufactured, in that it has a graded and stabilized surface, very unlike the rocky terrain we frequent here in Utah. Apparently at one time there was a mountain hut on my ascent, about an hour and a half out from the parking lot, but during an eruption in 2012 it was taken out by some flying debris, wild. Before long I had entered the true alpine zone, devoid of vegetation and covered lightly in snow. In the alpine zone there are a few beautiful lakes, some active hot springs and fumaroles, and a lot of loose volcanic sand, and views seemingly to the end of the earth (at least, to the end of the north Island, I could see other volcanoes off in the distance).
Up and over the crest of the alpine crossing, as I was running on the slopes of mt Doom (My Ngauruhoe was used as mt Doom for any shots showing the mountain in it's entirety) I finally came across the beginning of the crowds that flock to this trail, all, conveniently, going the "correct direction". Funnily enough, because I was wearing my standard winter running gear, shorts and a sun hoody with some backup warm clothes in a pack, one of the trekking guides mistook me for another kiwi! Before long I had come to the end of the standard trail, however I had intended to connect for another 7 miles to the next volcano to the south where I would hopefully meet Lindsay on the trail so we could check out some waterfalls. The back 7 running was, well, subterranean. I am not sure I have ever seen a trail more washed out, and I understand why there was so much extensive work done to stabilize the popular section now. In this lesser used section of trail, I was often in a trench up to 20 feet deep and constantly navigating loose unstable mud slopes as I went the out the many drainages I needed to traverse to get to the whakapapa trailhead. Checking the map, Lindsay decided on a self care napping day instead of a walk, so, once I got to my final choice, head up to a waterfall and make my intended loop or head south to the trailhead, I cut it short to just 18 miles, I was behind schedule anyway and Lindsay and I had things to do! All in all it was a nice trail for the alpine crossing section, somewhat unique, but it just goes to underscore the beauty that Lindsay and I live in here in the intermountain west!
The following day, we set out from a campsite just west of where the alpine crossing was set, with out sites on the Tongariro River instead of the national Park. The river generally is boatable year round, according to some prior research, at least for packrafts. I had planned for Lindsay and I to float the access 14 section, sandwiched between two basalt gorges that both hold class 5 water. The run we were looking at should top out at a low and boney class 3 but had a (short and flat) basalt slot canyon of its own, plus the water! It was supposed to be one of the cleanest rivers in the world and home to a whio (blue duck) population, which is apparently relatively rare. The access 13 section did not disappoint. Also, while camping the night before, we were graced with kiwi presence, or, at least, a kiwi screaming somewhere near by in the forest.
After a 4 mile or so hike through the forest at sunrise, we made our way down to the river just downstream of the tree trunk gorge, apparently the site of a few boater deaths due to narrowness,. hydraulics and the possibility for wedged trees. Right off the bat, the water stood out for us Colorado plateau boaters used water thicker than chocolate milk. The river was definitely lowwww. It had decent flow but the bed was chocked with a lot of large ish boulders which allowed just enough room to maneuver around. Coincidentally this was our first trip with our new refuges which paddle a fair bit smaller than the expeditions we are used to. That combined with the new continent shock plus the fact that we were paddling north (into the sun and Lindsay forgot her sunglasses) meant that Lindsay was on edge and way in her head about the float.
In general the water was somewhat unremarkable, just fun and consistent steep ish boulders dodging drops with short pools between, not too dissimilar to a lot of the muddy rivers we paddle in Utah. Lindsay ended up bottoming out a few times and getting stuck, and decided to walk a few rapids that she wasn't feeling. About a mile and a half in, we saw a blue duck (whio)! Apparently there are only about 3000 left so seeing one was definitely a treat. Then, we saw another, and another, then a pair sitting on a rock! All in all we saw maybe 6 of these good looking ducks. After a few more boulder bar drops (the last one was pretty steep! At least where I dropped it) we found ourselves at the pillars of Hercules, the short basalt slot that marked the start of the gorge section. It's really hard to describe how beautiful the water here was, it had maybe a slight blue-green to it but was just so clear! After a while longer of some interesting pool and drop rapids, we passed under the electric transmission lines, an obvious sign to get out lest we need to send it over the waterfall in the gorge below. Before packing up the boats, I convinced Lindsay to jump in with me to celebrate the beauty of the river! The hike out was exciting. Almost like a 5.2 climb with packs, but climbing on holds made of dirt and tree roots, ascending a hidden stair that took us out of the he gorge and back to the road a short walk from our site. I ran off to grab the car and we set off for Wellington and the south Island.
To give a quick review of the south Island, it was everything I thought it would be and we didn't have nearly enough time. I shifted some of our plans around a fair bit due to weather and water conditions, originally thinking about floating in the whitewater hotspot of Murchison, then moving on to try the hāwea (which was at highest floor stage) until we finally settled on driving into the southern alps to run an all to short section of the Makarora. This was where we first met the new Zealand biting black fly, that, although it was winter, was still very much so active. The views were so worth it though, and the water here had all the clarity (and tons of huge trout) that the Tongariro had, but with more of a sapphire hue. A fair bit easier, the Makarora is a short 3 miles of class 2 boating. Conveniently, the main attraction in the area, the blue pools, were closed to foot traffic because the bridges were out of service. Luckily, with boats, we could still access them, and just wow, the color and clarity is just something else. The pools seem like they should be at a tropical beach, not the near-alpine in New Zealand with near freezing water temps. All too quickly we saw our white behemoth on the side of the highway indicating our take out and just about the end of our New Zealand trip.
We did get a day of mediocre skiing in at the remarkables (maybe they are more remarkable with more snow) before moving on to Bali and a wedding followed by sickness that soured the end of the trip. I can't wait to go back and get more into the mountains and backcountry of the south island which definitely lived up to the hype.
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