Thank you Marshall. We will pay it forward.
Thank you Kay. I hope you're working today to see that we're okay.
Thank you Janine & Sarah. You are like home to us right now.
Thank you Ms. Stratford cab driver. Even though you cost us $120, you got us to Huntington and you made the drive enjoyable and warm.
Sipping tea in front of a roaring fire place in our socks, sitting on a rug in a swiss themed mountain lodge. When I woke up this morning, I never pictured this moment. You really never know where your day will take you once you wake up.
"Here's a biscuit for each of you", Marshall offers.
At that moment, that was the best tasting anything I'd ever eaten in my life. Staring at them on the place, I was in heaven. I couldn't wait to get my hands on my own. I'm sorry for Brent, I called the bigger biscuit. I think I get hungrier out on the tracks. I don't know how to explain that as we both expend a similar amount of energy between the two of us - we're both walking the same track, carrying different weight ratios on our backs however I know his pack is heavier by weight (but maybe not by ratio), he's bigger than me so I would imagine he would get hungrier, yet I am the first to ask for a food break when I'm getting dizzy. And because he loves me so much, in that moment he let me have the bigger cookie. :)
Enjoying every bite of this biscuit. All I want to do is call home and let my parents know how much I love them. All I can think about is everyone I know and love back home. It was between 11pm and 1am Ontario time. We were talking a lot on this part of the track to calm ourselves down. Talking about the things we missed from home. The comforts. The people. Talking about anything.
The warm fire. In warm dry clothes.
One hour prior to this moment, we didn't know if we would live or die.
Anyone will tell you this mountain is different. We made the right decision to turn around, but found ourselves in deeper waters than that first river. Every step was a decision. The rain wasn't going to let up. It was only getting worse. I couldn't turn around to watch Brent follow my track.
What if he didn't make it.
"Why is it that meteorologists don't provide people with a proper weather forecast of the mountain?", I asked Marshall as we drove down to Stratford. "Ah, this mountain, he's different. Unpredictable." Marshall has been climbing mountains for 30years. He knows Ruapehu and the Tongariro mountains very well. Predictable mountains he calls them. They act as mountains should. Mt. Taranaki is out on a peninsula surrounded by the ocean. Meteorologists don't want to stick out their necks and confirm any weather pattern, because it's always changing around the mountain. So far, every met service weather forecast we have received has been wrong. On the 'rainy days', it's sunny and dry. On the 'it's going to be a great day' forecasts, it's pouring rain and dreadful. Unpredictable. It creates its own weather. In a heartbeat, things can change. The sun will disappear behind a cloud, the snow will move in in the summer months, rain can clear up in a flash and the rivers can drop down in depth.
Walking the Pouakai Range a week prior to this track, we watched the mountain pull in clouds from all around. The storms swarm to this mountain and hover around the peak. The weather is different on any one side of this mountain. It's an incredible site to see in person. Warning signs are all around you. The weather can change in the drop of a hat. You MUST never climb this mountain or walk a track without being 100% prepared or you could run into serious problems. Even a simple day hike can be deadly.
Many people have died on this mountain. A sign in the North Egmont visitor centre: Approx every two weeks a search and rescue team is deployed on this mountain. People who are doing the summit run into injuries a lot of the time. There are people with inexperience who attempt things they shouldn't be trying, not heading to the warnings of the DOC staff. People set out in cotton clothing for a 12hr hike and run into bad weather. Hypothermia can happen quickly.
We spent two hours in the North Egmont Visitor Centre on Sunday, August 24th. We were waiting out the rain. It was heavy at the moment. We spent it with Kay, our favorite DOC staff member. She's this wonderful woman who we spoke to the week before. She has this infectious laugh and this wonderful smile. I bet she's an amazing grandmother. We spoke to her about the around the mountain circuit (AMC) we were going to walk. We decided to spend six nights out in the mountain. Walk to Maketawa Hut, Waingongoro Hut, Lake Dive Hut then Waiaua Gorge Hut before returning to Lake Dive Hut, spending our last night in Waingongoro before tramping the last day straight to the visitor centre. It's almost the full AMC. We chose not to continue to Kahui Hut or Holly Hut due to some major erosion that had taken out part of the trails and made them both unstable and at some points unmarked and untramped.
We talked through every day with Kay. The DOC staff at these visitor centres are there to inform you of any weather updates and trail information. They are a vital part of the start of any track. They have information that a topo map will not give you. And some people don't listen to the DOC staff. And some people never make it off the mountain. We value our time with these staff members. At the North Egmont VC it's fantastic, they have a 3D model of the national park and you can walk through the route with the staff. We spent our time at the model and the larger topo map at the front desk.
We waited from approx 11am until 1pm for the rain to die down. We weren't in a rush. The first day's hike was quite quick. I think it took us 2 1/2 hours in the end.
Snacking on our crackers and cheese we stood at a display board reading about search and rescues. There was also a list of the number of people who have died on this mountain up until 2003. It listed the cause of death, time of year, number of people. Some stories were published on this display board of terrible stories of people who did not survive. This is there to remind people, that experience or not, this mountain has claimed a wide range of people's lives.
I asked Kay if the DOC staff ever worry about the people they see heading out to the mountains. "Oh yes, all the time. You don't want to, but you do. When you've been involved in a group going up the mountain who never came back, you just worry.", she said looking out towards the road. I told her when we were hiking the Pouakai range we were thinking about her and wondering if she was thinking about us, that's why we were asking. She said she wasn't working the day we came off the mountain, but the first thing she did the next day (we filled out intentions to be back by 5pm that time, after the VC is closed) was called up the DOC staff member on duty and ask if we made it off the mountain and signed out.
SIGN OUT PEOPLE!!!!
Some people fill out intention cards and don't sign out when they leave. And that leaves people to call around and try to find you. They have to account for you. They send out helicopters if they everyone they contact for you says they haven't heard from you. If they can't find your car, they can't assume you've driven off with it. What if it was stolen from you? They fly to each hut to see your intentions. They deploy search and rescue teams between any two points where communication/intentions cease.
All you had to do was get to the VC and sign out.
Kay can sleep better when she knows the people have made it safely off the mountain. She told us about a couple who were doing I believe the AMC. They were coming up to Holly Hut. The last hut of the circuit. Not far from the hut there is a river crossing. We've never seen this river, but it can be a wild river. Strong currents. Add a little run off from the mountain, and it's just not a safe option to cross. But when you've hiked for hours, and you find yourself very far from your last hut, and a warm fire and shelter await you probably 30 mins, maybe less, down the trail your mind could be convinced that it can cross things that it shouldn't. The couple crossed the river. The current must have been torrential. They were swept away. I don't remember if their bodies were recovered.
Swept away. Ripped down the mountain side by flooded rock beds. Deep whirlpools that were never there the day before. The hour before.
I think this is why Kay worries. When you're involved with a group of people who do not make it off the mountain, how could you not worry. We didn't want to worry Kay.
We look the part in our gear. Us walking out of Auckland in all of our gear - we looked soooooo out of place. Us walking into a DOC visitor center, we look the part of trampers. We are researched. We respect our limits. But we come prepared. Some people enter visitor centers in cotton shirts, shorts and sandals with day packs and no water supply asking the DOC people about a summit track. (seriously - carrying no drinking water) Kay told us that she has turned people away when they do not have the right gear. You get a sense of people and you know if they will make it or not.
Your safety is your responsibility. It's written everywhere. Every DOC staff member will reiterate this to you before you tramp.
Kay updated us with weather during our two hours at the centre. Once the rain started to fade away, we headed out. We took the higher road to the hut. The lower trail has several river crossings and by this time would have deep flooding. The higher trail was a huge ascent and it didn't shelter you from the rain, but it was definitely the safer route. A 4x4 road that leads up to a mountain lodge. We would take this until our trail started near the top.
It was snow covered. Not like the last time. This time, the snow was breaking down due to the rain. It was harder to walk on. Slippery. I would never have done our first treck to Holly Hut in this type of snow. We surely would have slipped down those narrow steep tracks. On a clear day, I bet the view from this road would be spectacular. Overcast today. No view.
We came across three people on the road. They were heading down from the lodge. Kay suggested we take the high road and even side trip it to the lodge to speak to someone about the conditions of the snow. Hiking on the higher circuit might be safer if the rain continued through tomorrow. She thought we might cross paths with people on this road. There were two women and one man. He was holding his ice pick. They were mountaineers for sure. A lovely group of people. Locals who knew the mountain. We asked about the snow conditions and how the weather had been for them. They gave us a good amount of advice. One woman made a passing comment that stuck more to me. The DOC told us that the weather was going to drop tonight with a southeasterly wind coming through. (we NOW understand that when a southeasterly wind comes through NZ, it's not a good thing...back home that might mean nice warm weather, in NZ it's reverse - wind from south = bad weather usually - cold, wet, on Mt. Taranaki, not good) When I told the woman this, she told us to watch the snow as it would all freeze up in that case and would be deadly. Note taken. "If it continues to rain tomorrow, just turn back!", the other woman said. We parted ways and continued in our own directions.
We came upon two water crossings. When we spoke to Kay about taking upper circuit tracks (cause there is a lower level AMC and a higher lever AMC), she said it could be a safer option on our first and second day as you do not have any river crossings. But then again, she said, you will have to cross waterfalls from the mountain. And on the road, we came across two waterfall crossings. The water falls off the rockcliff and rolls across the 4x4 road up here. It's an easy crossing. But knowing that from up here, you wonder what it's like on the ground. We were happy to be doing the higher track.
Maketawa Hut. Our 4th hut. Nice. Again, rat free. So wonderful. This hut has a front and back porch. At the moment, no view, but it's still cloudy. This hut is equipped with an indoor gas heater. Nice. If only we got it working. Which we couldn't. The dang thing just wouldn't ignite. No heat for us.
Routine sets in. Boil water to make dinner. Tonight we feast on trident noodles. Basically Mr. Noodles. We carried half these noodle meals and half backpacker meals. The backpacker meals are expensive and we find do not necessarily offer a high calorie intake for either of us. One of the meals only gives off 250 calories each. Not exactly what you expect after a long hike. But you feel full, so you don't really notice. The trident noodles offer 488 calories. Much higher.
After dinner, we filter/clean water to fill the Dromedary to the brink and both our water bottles. Then we wash dishes and use the excess Dromedary water to rinse if necessary. Put everything away, hang up food and our rubbish drysack on the rack provided, and with no heater working and no fire place, we get our sleeping bags out and get cozy and play cards until we get bored.
We need to learn more card games. We go through this routine of crazy eight countdown (one game), maybe a game of war (maybe), then we play two-man euchre - once or twice. By the end, we're just bored and decide to go to bed. Sadly, we're talking 7.30-8.00pm here.
Needless to say, we're definitely sleeping enough in the mountains. It's because the days are still so short here. But they are getting longer, you can see it at night. The evening doesn't set in quite as quickly. But I guess it depends where you are. In a field, you are dusky until 6.00pm maybe 6.30pm. In a covered forest, it feels like night at 5.15pm still.
At night, I sit and listen to the animals trying to get into the hut. Gnawing and scrapping at the wood. When you see no mention of animal problems in the intentions book and you see no trace of wee and poo in the hut, you're good to go. They probably haven't found a way in yet. They are trying, but haven't succeeded.
I sleep on and off. 11hrs of sleep is not my ideal at all. I can't sleep consistently past 6hrs. I will definitely wake up at some point wanting to get up. But I'm not going to hang out in a pitch dark hut alone, so I just toss and turn around in the mummy bag thinking about the day ahead.
It stopped raining. I take notice of the weather pattern through the night. I spend enough of it awake to gage the weather.
The next day we set out on the Curtis Falls track. This track encompassed everything I haven't enjoyed from Egmont National park's tracks. Mainly poorly marked river crossings (which could be partly due to erosion and track markers being washed away - but at some points, when you cross onto land - you expect a certain amount of clear markers, and you begin to wonder if they are just not clearly marked), overgrown vegetation that wants to eat you as you tramp and land slips that take out the track as well as hang over your head as you attempt alternate routes.
Scary tramping stuff.
It was a beautiful day. Thank goodness. I don't think we would have attempted this track in the rain. CF track lead us up and down several steep gorges through dry river beds. In the rain, I can't imagine the water level. Tracks were awash. There was no point in imagining where they were anymore. You were sliding down partly snow covered tracks that could use a helping hand. Slick mud drops. They might be building stairs there in the summer, who knows. We passed a few piles of lumber and stakes. Future operations of the park. Probably when the weather dries up.
Rocky pathways. Unmarked river crossings. A map can only help you so far. If you can't see the trail on the other side, you could follow a riverbed for a long time. Every time we crossed a river, I spent some time scoping out the entire area from high up on the track. An attempt to find any possible indication on the other side of the river, further down the river or whatnot. You didn't know if you had to follow the river for a section or two. Once you dropped down to the water's level, there was no way you could see the track markers or any indicators.
This was challenging. And slowed us down considerably.
Stoat traps. These become your route markers. Where they have predator control in place (part of the Egmont National Park), you find on certain tracks these stoat traps - all numbered and coded for the trail and all 100m apart from the other. After an unmarked river crossing, as you start to follow a semblance of a track, it's glorious to find a stoat trap - because then you know you're on the right track. And if the traps are counting down (as they did the day we left Maketawa hut to Waingongoro hut - from 51 or 52 to 1), you can guage your distance. 52 = 5.2km. Not a bad guide. It's only for the tracks they are used on. And in one day you can follow several different tracks, but this distance guaging is a nice treat sometimes.
Then you add the overgrowing vegetation. I fully understand in the woods, I am in their domain. But when you are trying to follow a path, mind you a steep ladder none the less bolted into the side of the hill (which you begin to doubt due to the rainfall and erosion), you want nothing more than a clear view of where your footing should go. There are these monster plants, can't identify them as I am not a horticulturist (spelling?). Brent calls them spider plants. They are just giant long grass stem like plants. Almost like an aloe plant, but thinner, more limber, and the stems get super long and big. They are so challenging!!! You step on the tip and your other foot gets tripped as you try to cross the area. Try not tripping up steep ladders on a hill side with a pack on your back. At one point, half way up a ladder, I was overtaken by these plants from each side of me. I couldn't move they were impeding my footing and movement so much.
Funny enough, at the end of the track there lies a sign saying that 'vegetation clearance is underway'. Maybe in the spring my friend. Not today.
Then there are our favorite 'gortex eating plants'. We don't know if they eat gortex, but they have an affinity for it. They cling onto our gortex and don't let go. Mind you, if my gortex wasn't covering my skin, I have a feeling we'd be bleeding a heck of a lot more. They have these minute thorns that latch on to you so well. It can pull you back. We would pass by them with our rain hoods on, and they could literally rip it off your head.
These plants, these forests, they are fierce!
Through the trails to East Egmont. We dined on crackers and cheese, yummy smokey bacon, at a picnic table and had the luxury of public toilets. Brent says they are better then the "long drops" at the hut. They don't smell as toxic, that's for sure. :)
After lunch, a treat, our track follows a walkway - the Enchanted walkway. A walkway is an easier track that is set up for a wider range of people to use. More stairways, bridges, clearer pathways. A tramper's cheat track. But a welcome break.
More bush and an unexpected swing bridge. Uh?
For someone with a deep fear of heights, I have had to do a lot of things I don't necessarily enjoy on some of these tramps. I love a great view from a hillside, mountaintop or what have you. I can't wrap my head around the idea of falling off a cliff and feeling the pain of the fall, however I trust nature and don't think it will throw me off willingly. Man made track items such as bridges that are starting to erode away with the weather, staircases that are falling apart, tall steep ladders that are starting to pull away from the hillsides - those are things that scare me.
Thin metal swing bridges standing 30m over a rushing river below, yup, that's definitely on the list of scary things to do. An unexpected swing bridge that leads us 26.5m across to the tip of the track that leads us to our next hut. A must do. Thank goodness I am not holding up any trampers. It's one at a time in these woods. You try to put your feet on the metal bars on the bottom, which leads you to stare down your fear and look directly in the direction you ultimately wanted to avoid.
Fun times. But I'm starting to get used to it. Not enjoying it, but you have to do what you have to do. And at the end of the day, a nice warm fire in a hut by the mountainside is reason enough to cross.
Another side note about the tracks. Staircases. We're beginning to wonder if the stairs that the DOC people have built help or hinder your step? Some are shallow and filled with rocks. If the rocks are still there, amazing. If the rocks have slipped away, these stairs become mud or water holes which you try hard to avoid. Leading one to step on the wooden casing, which is usually slippery in the rain, and has trampers sliding around. Some of the stairs are being pulled apart as the ground erodes from under them or along side them. Some the staircases are solid wood - great only in dry weather. Water makes them slick. Even with the greatest treads, you run into problems. There are others with fencing/chicken wire on them. Amazing - they maintain traction even in the rain. Some are metal - which we only ran into on the Pouakai range so far - which was a hidden blessing that we enjoyed for a moment in time. Might be hazardous in icy conditions. Or the wooden stairs with the rubber steps - that was probably the best option. The same thing goes with the ladders. Some have meshing, some don't. You really have to watch your step and know what your foot is landing on. You can't assume because it is set in the track that you will be problem free. These things all depend on budget and time. You walk into areas where you wonder how a bridge or ladder was never installed - then you hit areas that seem so simple that have built in long stairways.
Across the swing bridge to the Waingongoro Hut. Another nice hut brought to you by the DOC. We enter our routine mode. For dinner, we plan on beef stew. We were both thinking about Beef Teriyaki, but we forgot it back at the hostel. I start to set up a fire in the stove (this time cheating a little and using a fire starter that was generously donated by some other trampers) while Brent plucked away at the stove.
Pluck, pluck, pffffffffffffffffff.
Is it not our luck on a 6 night hike to lose our stove on the 2nd evening?
The stove dudded out on us. It just stopped working. Pressurizing the gas didn't help, opening the valves didn't help. Checking the jet didn't help. Pulling the entire thing apart and reassembling it didn't help. We got droplets of gas in the jet, a minor flame and then pffffffffffffff.
No hot food tonight. Dry trident noodles. No beef stew. I guess it was meant to be.
Then came the discussion. As we filtered our water, cleaned our dishes before sitting by the fire to eat our dinner - what are we going to do next. We have enough food for our six night hike, but without the stove, we do not have cooked dinners. We have two nights worth of dry noodles, and three more of cooked backpacking food. I want to go to Lake Dive Hut and then return, cutting our trip down to 4 nights (which I thought was a good compromise since we had enough food to do this safely without going hungry - I did not think going 6 nights was an option any more) and Brent wanted to simply return to New Plymouth the next day. We discussed the pros and cons and unanimously agreed that we needed to make it to Lake Dive Hut. Kay told us it was her favorite hut, and we wanted to see why. :) And besides, it is a hut in the mountain right beside a lake - could anything sound more picturesque?
We chose our room tonight based on the fact that there was a gnat nest in the other room. A slew of gnat like insects were hovering in the window sill. We slowly took a mattress from this room and closed the door to keep these guys away from us at night.
We ate and cleared the hut with our nightly routine and settled in to play cards.
SHRIEK!!!
Silence.
What the hell was that?
It sounded like a baby screaming/dog barking/foreign animal surprise.
And again. Right underneath of the hut. Through the vent in our room's floor. This is what haunts you in the dark. Foreign sounds of mystery animals. I have no idea what that was. I heard it several times throughout the night. Along with the gnawing and scratching.
It was like that night we drove down the forgotten highway 43. At one point we turned a corner and there was this animal in the road. I have no idea what it was. Stripy tail like a raccoon. Big body like a capybara. Pointy face, long snoutish - not like a pig. Who knows what it was. Describe it to a local here, they think you're crazy!
All night long, you had your moments of complete silence and darkness (the moon did not shine through the clouds on this night), shrieking in the distance, gnawing underneath you...it's enough to drive some people mad. Knowing that you're not alone is comforting. :) At least Brent is sound asleep right beside me. At least I'm safe nestled into my mummy sleeping bag. That'll protect me. You feel safe...when the shrieking animals can't get in.
The morning we woke up in Maketawa hut (we wake up before dawn to get ready and set out as early as possible/safe) we had the most gorgeous view of Taranaki and a clear view of New Plymouth at night. It was wonderful. Again, a huge reason that tramping is worth it in this country - the views alone that these huts provide. The morning we woke up from Waingongoro hut was sadly not the same. The day before, I got a snapshot of the mountain for like 10mins. That's all she wrote before clouds set in around the peak. And eventually around the entire side of the mountain.
The rain started before we woke up. On most days when the rain starts, it will eventually clear, but not today. Funny enough, if we had decided to return to our car on this day - the weather would have quickly changed that idea. We did not want to be crossing those gorges with rainfall. They were deep and the water levels could be dreadfully deep, and with a swift current, impossible.
We set out by 7.45am. A rough time we usually end up leaving a hut by. We wake up around 6/6.30 in the morning. Right now, it's still dark at that time here. Especially when it's overcast. Eat breakfast in bed (heh, heh) - bumper bars from the warehouse or OSM (one square meal) bars. We truly miss hearty breakfasts we used to make back home on these days - but these bars are high calorie and much lighter then a box of pancake mix. :) Then we sort out everything we need for the day (food and what have you), stuff our sleeping bags, get ready and pack our bags. Check the whole hut, ensure fire is out, put packs on and say goodbye to the hut (signing the intention book if not done the day before).
Today, a treat. At the junction from the hut towards the fork of two tracks, a weta sits on the soaking wet sign. I don't know how many times I tried to take a picture - when it's dark in the canopy forests, even at ISO 800 the shutter speed is like 1 second. I think one turned out. Our first weta. We did see a cave weta on our rap, raft & rock tour, but this was our first forest weta. When we went to Puke Ariki (the museum in NP) we found out that the giant wetas are really only found on the islands off the mainland in NZ - I guess since they are less disturbed and they adapted to the environment differently? But in mainland NZ you can still get a meaty little bugger. This one was larger then any grasshopper I ever caught in my backyard.
The walk to Dawson Falls (a visitor center on the other side of the mountain from North Egmont) was quick enough. Maybe 2 hours. We're getting closer to the DOC times with our walking. Maybe we're getting quicker? We are definitely used to hoisting 30-40lbs (me) and 50-65lbs (brent) on our backs. Our shoulders only get soar much later in the day. An improvement. We spent some time in the visitor center's public shelter. This DOC office is only open from Thursdays-Sunday. The information is posted on the outside of the doors for trampers who come off hours to see. You can learn a lot about the area and the trails in this park.
The most important topo map available to trampers is found posted outside both Egmont visitor centres. A topo map of the park with changes to the tracks marked in sharpie. Erosion - biggest problem. Tracks closed. Slips. Missing connections - like the swingbridge indicated on the map that leads you to Waiaua Gorge Hut - the last hut we were going to visit but had to cut short due to our dysfunctional stove - WASHED AWAY!!!! My faith in swingbridges has dissipated from this moment on. You must now follow route markers. Swing bridges are over some pretty intense rivers - I can't imagine crossing this one on a good day. So if we hadn't made a decision to turn around after Lake Dive Hut, that information was enough to make me turn around.
It was the driest summer they've ever had. A great tramping season probably. Endless. Seven weeks with no rain. Farmers' worst fear. Trampers' dream summer. We have had some great days with no rain on our hikes, but it's always muddy and wet. Now, eight weeks with non stop rain. We've been here for four of them. Take a dried up and brittle hillside and dump heaps of buckets of water on it, and you will get most of the parks we are coming across in the north island. Slips everywhere. We can imagine it might be different in the Fiords, because it always rains down there. But not up here. This topo map at Dawson Falls showed just how extensive the erosion is. They acquire their information from trampers just like us - then a DOC staff member will go investigate the situation. You're walking on thin land half of the time, and when you descend down a cliff, that is the only time you see how dangerous the track really is. Or you find the track on the riverbed like we did on the Pouakai circuit.
Erosion postings riddled this topo map. There is nowhere safe to truly climb. You're on your hands and knees in the mud, but it's the safest place to be at times.
Morning snack and another day with a luxurious public bathroom. A treat from the outhouse and the simple trail squat. A shelter from the rain. We were damp, not wet cause we have the gear, but we were covered in water. The rain wasn't always heavy, but it was consistent. It hadn't stopped yet. We normally don't hike with our hoods up in the rain to be able to see/hear the trail better. Today, we had no choice. To be dry/warm at the hut tonight, it was best to keep the hood up to avoid the dampness sinking into our upper fleece jackets.
We set out enjoying some nicer tracks from the center. Wet, but smooth, river crossings were bridged or if you crossed a rocky river bed, it was actually barely a trickle. It was 10amish when we set on the trail again. Supposedly 2.5-3hrs to the hut (in good weather, with no eroded tracks I would imagine).
Nothing too memorable. I think at one point in this trail I was thinking about how nothing too drastic has happened in our trip this time. Okay, so the stove doesn't work, but nothing big had happened to shape this tramp. Quiet. Nice. We walked along, fighting with vegetation at times. I would lead and after being bitch-slapped by a plant with a mouthful of water and a gasp escaping my lips, Brent would lecture the plant and threaten to beat it up. And then he would tell me about how he took care of that plant for me. These are the things that amuse us on our trail. 24/7 we're together. These stories can be quite creative and extensive. You hear about how plants were plotting to trip either of us all night long and how the story will end upon our return down the trail when we encounter these rude plants once again.
I notice the different challenges we each undertake on these tracks. I would easily hop down a hillside, while Brent might have to do it in stages and lower to the ground. He reminded me that he has a different centre of gravity then I do. I never thought of that until he mentioned it, and now I look for it. It's interesting to see the hurdles we each overcome and knowing that the other person doesn't quite understand what you might be going through or why it is a struggle for you. Every step, something new.
We were nearing Lake Dive Hut. Probably an hour (our time) out. We started our way down a long decent to a river crossing. It sounded big, it sounded fierce. But we were at the top of the descent, so you never know. We both continued to hike listening to the rushing water. Finally silence is broken and we ask the other what we think. From past experiences, we know that sound can be deceiving, but today it feels different. On the map I notice that it's where two rivers/streams merge. Maybe we're just at the height of a waterfall. Those are loud. We have a steady descent for about 10-15mins. Long. The sound is not changing. It starts to fade as we wind through more forest, but upon a cliff's clearing, it roars just as strong.
We have to get down to the river crossing to gage it ourselves. You just don't know from up high.
All the same, you're praying for a surprise swingbridge at moments like these.
Nothing. No bridge. Just rocks.
Or semblances of rocks. Really just rushing water. 6 1/2 hours from our last hut, 45mins from the next hut, a nice warm fire (my right foot was really wet at this point - fire sounds nice), food. Crap. A flooded river. Standing on the rocky river bed, you find yourself surrounded by water. Cascading from the sides of the mountains are endless waterfalls. Strong waterfalls. Beautiful to look at. You would think you were in a wonderful oasis of an area. A hidden place that only you get to enjoy. Until you quickly realize your situation, surrounded by a full day of rain, water that is falling from the top of the mountain, snow that is melting from the top of the mountain, and a deep river bed that once trickled earlier that day. A deadly mix.
The rain is finally starting to have an affect on a river. We had been hiking all day and passing some of the trickles, we were beginning to think this is what these rivers/streams might look like flooded. The rain never let up, yet the levels were reasonable.
Add to the mix snow melt. You don't know what weather patterns are hitting the mountain. And we're currently hiking on the side with the most snow. It obviously takes time for the water to build and start pouring down the mountainside. It pools at the top until it overflows. It finds any which way down the mountain. That's where these beautiful waterfalls come from. The quickest way down. Draining the top. If we took the higher AMC, we would be contending with crossing the tops of these waterfalls. Maybe safer if the snow levels were lower and the track wasn't so narrow. Down here, you get the rushing waterways all combined into one.
Your mind just dies. You're so close to that hut. You're so far from the other hut. The last 'safe place' was Dawson Falls - 4 1/2 hours from where you are. It's 2.16pm. You have maybe 3 good hours left of daylight. With the canopy in this forest, the rain, and absolute lack of sun, you're lucky if you get 3. You start to wonder if it's better to get across this river and just make that hut, or turn around and face a certain night hike.
We stared at that river until 2.38pm. I could see a path to one rock in the middle of the river crossing, but beyond that I would only be able to see from that rock. Not a clear path. Not a safe option, but it was the only path we could even see. The rocks disappear under the flow of the river. Brent threw a rock to see how deep one crevice was. Too deep. Your pole would be lost if you dropped it there.
Crossing the river. If I trust the depth and the flow, I'm fine. It isn't my own safety I'm concerned about, it's Brent's. And he's thinking the same thing about me. What if I make it across and they don't. What if they are swept away. Do you want to let a desire to make a hut claim a life? We're sitting in the same situation as the story Kay told us about the couple crossing to Holly Hut. You're right there - if you just get across this river. That's all we had to do. That's all they had to do. They crossed it and were lost forever.
"Let's turn back", Brent says. I take a deep breath. Okay.
You want to cross, but your mind and body aren't letting you. An hour ago, this might have been crossable. It's turned far too dangerous. A mountain can do that to you. Rain water can do that to you. It can build up a river so fast it will blind side you if you are not prepared or respectful. As quickly as it will rise, it will once again fall. Mountain river crossings are intense. Water comes down from all around you. You can't predict where the water will come from - which means you will never know how much is feeding into it.
A deep river crossing is not the concern. I can wade waist deep in a calm river. It might have to happen one day, and it's just how it goes.
The current/flow is what you must respect and understand. It's never just the depth. The flow will sweep you away. Who cares how good a swimmer you are when a current is pushing you into a whirlpool of water and slamming your body into the rocks. In the cave in Waitomo, that was one of the things our guide Allan was saying. If the rapids/water flow starts to take you away, just go with it. He will be there to stop you from disappearing down the dark cave. But fighting it can cause injury. The flow is stronger then you are. They wouldn't go down into the caves if the water was too high and the current was too strong.
If it's only your feet in the strong current but you have clear footing (elevated rocks), you're golden. If you find yourself waist deep in water with a strong current, it could be good bye tramper.
We have packs on, we are heavy in an off balance kind of way. Our weight is not centrally balanced on us.
This river crossing was not going to happen today.
We scurried up the mountain once again ascending twice as fast as we descended. At the top, we break for lunch. We were starving. And now we need a plan. We have roughly two and a half hours of daylight. We need to get to Dawson Falls. We can either pitch a tent in the public shelter (due to the violent vandalism occuring at night in this area, it was decided this might not be the best place to pitch a tent - if someone were to come up the mountain, they would surely come and say hello - it's supposedly drunk bored teenagers/young adults looting the area), we could stay at the lodge we saw near the centre, there is a DOC lodge but with the office closed, no access to keys. At least there is a lodge where we could stay at for the night before hiking back to the car the next day. From Dawson Falls to North Egmont, it would be a full day of tramping, but doable. To know you end up at your car (safely tucked away to appear like a DOC worker's vehicle), any long day of hiking is worth it.
Up and down we went. This trail is very wet. Deep bogs and puddles pollute the track itself. You try your best to skirt these areas, but it's difficult to. This is why my stupid right foot is wet in the first place. I blame the puddles.
A stream crossing. One we crossed a mere hour before. Flooded. Unexpected. We thought it was already at a high level. We realize our situation at this moment.
"How many river crossings do we have?"
Probably about 4-5 streams and rivers from here to the centre. Those are the larger ones. The trickles that offer larger rock beds. There are smaller ones, and then there are crossings with bridges.
Shit.
This river is lower then the one we just turned away from AND we know this one since we just crossed it not too long ago. I remember our route. This crossing involved climbing up river a bit before heading across. Our pathway alongside the river is also underwater. You skirt around rocks and hug the crap out of them when you have to fling your body over it. Probing the depth of the water pools with your pole. I can see our rocks from further up. If we cross just behind our previous rock path, the water will push us towards our rocks and we should be fine.
The flow wasn't too strong. Don't get me wrong, we were crossing at a good spot. Further down, the rapids kick in. If you slip, the rapids is where you will end up.
We both make it across. I lead the river crossings because I remembered our pathway. I holler back to Brent to give him a status on my footing and where (if anywhere) I ran into problems. The stupid map clipped onto my pole nearly tripped me - which would have meant falling into the river. Stupid, stupid map.
He makes it across. Phew.
One down.
I soaked my left foot on that crossing. Brent, dry as day. Lucky poo.
Another flooded river. Another chunk of time spent assessing the situation. This was the crossing where Brent actually found a solid piece of land where we could pitch our tent if need be. One place on the entire trail that was decent to pitch a tent. It's on a cliff side, so don't move. It's under a loose mud/dirt cliff side which could slip in the night, especially with all this rainfall. It's beside a ladder which also could dislodge from the side (the slips are claiming a lot of DOC track items). Things that run through your head. But it's an option that we both observe.
At this point in time, I just want to be somewhere with a warm fire. I was too wet at this point to not need to dry out. Brent was still dry. My motivation was ensuring that I didn't get cold. Merino socks = amazing. I didn't feel cold yet. But the temperature was dropping. It could get worse tonight.
Again, we remembered our pathway and successfully got through this one. And the next, and the next.
Home free.
Thank goodness. Bridged crossings, one flooded trickly stream with elevated rocks. We're golden.
Until we meet our friend, land slip river. I call this one landslip river because of the amount of land this gorge has claimed. Trees are fallen all around, up and down the river. They are handles to hold onto. They are hinderences for footing. They could save your life, but if you depend on a branch to hold your weight in the current, it could snap off and send you flying. This river was deep. Are we stuck? This has to be the last one. If only we make it to the other side, I think we're just around the corner from Dawson Falls.
We made it here. And again you sit and look at a river and wonder if you cross it, will you regret it. We're soooooo close to our exit point. Time is ticking, the night is setting in. No matter what we do, we have to think fast. I remember our path, but it's flooded badly. This flow is stronger then the last. Add to that the depth.
We look at each other. What would the other do. We both want to make it across. We both don't want the other one to die. We both worry about the other's safety. I'm not afraid to cross it, but if my decision to cross this stupid waterway pulls Brent from my life, I will not be able to live with myself. Brent's thinking the same thing. It's a horrible thing to go through in your head. All the while trying to make the safest decision and a quick one. You are working against the elements here.
Looking down the river with the land slips, all I could think about is as long as I can unclip from my bag I could definitely hold onto those logs. There are fallen trees as far down as I can see. But if there is a pool just below the tree, you'd be sunk by the flow, you'd never make the tree. The rapids will drop you down the rocks before helping you to safety.
A route. A fallen tree to maybe help. We waded up the river side to cross higher than we had before. At two points, the river's flow was safer. In the middle, it was rapid. It sounded torrential. You had to clear your mind and stop thinking about the sound or the rapids further down, you had to just cross.
The river quickly dropped our bodies into waist deep water. The current was ripping through our bodies.
Was this the right decision. Just an hour earlier, this was nothing more than a trickle. An hour. How fast it can change.
Trudging through waist deep water is challenging enough. The stupid map. Acting as a sail in the water (it's encased in a medium format waterproof map enclosure), then clipping onto a tree branch to my left. I'm caught in almost the splits and I have to lean back with the weight of my pack trying to pull me down the river, to unclip this stupid little map. It has my pole which is looped around my wrist. There is no getting out of this situation. My entire body is pulling in water at this point. Feeling heavier, it's more difficult to push across.
I skirt a rock and pull myself out of the current but continue to wade through deep waters before hoisting myself up a muddy ledge. Tree roots that once stood above the river. My saving grace.
I can't watch Brent who is almost directly behind me. Usually we're really good about doing things one at a time. Ladders, bridges, river crossings - one goes ahead and once safely across the other follows. We didn't want to be pulled apart on these crossings. We kept a safe distance, but the sooner we could cross these things the better.
He is also wading waist deep. Water pounding against is off centered body. He is more top heavy with his pack and this affects his crossing. It's pouring rain. The sound of the river is numbing. The rapids are ripping to your right.
You hate your life at that moment.
It could go either way. You could be fine and live to tell the story. You could just as easily become another statistic in the mountain. Others have been in the same situation, in the same current, in the same depth. Not everyone makes it across.
When I finally found my way onto the track again, I just started sobbing. You're physically, emotionally and mentally destroyed. Your decision to cross these rivers could be your last. That's the only thing running through your head. We had two river crossings to go to the hut. We had to just trudge through like 5 to make it back here.
Brent is finally safe and sound. Soaked to the bone. Dripping wet. Weighing probably 20lbs more with all this water. We have to keep going.
We have no idea how much further we still have to go. We don't waste time looking at the map from this point on. We just need to get there.
We're swift. At this point, who cares if you walk through knee deep puddles. We're already wet.
The path winds up and down. The night is still creeping into your future. The canopy is thick at this point.
A bridge. Warning maximum 5 people. We're almost there.
When you spot that clearing through the woods, it's the most glorious moment. It's foggy, it's raining, it's beautiful. 5.26pm. Darkness fell early tonight.
We came upon the lodge. Exhausted. Spent. It was quiet. A few people could be seen from a window. The first few doors we tried we locked and then we found the reception area. A towel on the floor. We stand still and try not to move. I don't want to dampen anyone's floor.
"Hello. How can I help you", Marshall greets us.
"Well, I would really love to say that we would enjoy spending the night up in this beautiful lodge, but I think we want to get back to our car. Do you know if we could get a taxi to drive us from here to North Egmont?"
"Surely. It will cost you a great deal of money."
At this point in time, money was almost not an option.
Marshall opened up his cafe to offer us a place to change into our dry clothes. "Do you drink tea or coffee?" he asked as we slowly and carefully pulled off our soaked clothing. "When you're finished changing, just come through the kitchen and fix yourself up a cup of tea. Then come by the fireplace and warm up."
We were freezing cold. My two thermal upper layers, my fleece - all soaked. I only had my hoodie, a pair of pants and dry socks. Brent was smarter, he brought extra thermal bottoms, but only a thin top. We peeled away the layers and got dressed. That alone is enough to warm you up. Packed our wet clothes in our dry sack to contain our drip trail. It was a beautiful lodge and we would hate to ruin it with puddles of water.
Through the kitchen, two cups of tea with tea bags sitting inside, milk, sugar and a hot kettle. I don't even drink tea, but I couldn't have wanted it more tonight. We shuffled our bodies through the restaurant to the fireplace in the sitting room. Marshall was in the middle of a business deal with two other people. We quietly sat sipping tea enjoying the hot fire and the swiss themed lodge. When we woke up this morning, we never expected this to be how we would spend our evening.
We warmed up for half an hour. When the meeting ended, Marshall bid the couple farewell and came to offer us a biscuit.
"After you're done with that, let's get your gear and pack it into my car. I'll drive you to Stratford."
A city about 1/2 hr from New Plymouth. So much closer to Egmont Village, which is where the road leads you to the North Egmont Visitor Centre. This was a half hour's drive for Marshall, but he gladly offered his services. The lodge was quiet tonight, he would only be gone an hour.
We were so thankful. We actually couldn't stop thanking him for his kindness. "I've been stuck up a mountain before. I've been in your situation, and people have helped me out. This is my way to pay them back. Mountain folk will always help you out. They understand."
Once in Stratford, we called for a cab at the gas station. We tried to pay for Marshall's gas for him, but he wouldn't have it. He was happy to have helped.
Two weeks ago he was sitting in the Dawson Falls lodge having wine with some friends. He noticed one of the workers was distraught and asked her if she was okay. There was no management at the lodge, and things were falling apart. Marshall, with 35 years of experience in hotel/restaurant management offered to assist her saying that he could stay for a month to help. She pulled him in to the owner and said that they needed him here.
Two weeks ago, by chance he was here on a crazy night.
If he hadn't been there two weeks ago, there might not have been anyone at the lodge to assist us.
Things happen for a reason.
The cab ride to the car was wonderful. Warm. That's what mattered most, because the temperature had dropped enough, and we weren't in our usual layers of warmth. When I made the call, this lovely woman answered the phone "I'll be there in a minute, love.".
Small town, small cab company. You call the drivers direct. Amazing.
She was lovely. We didn't even care that it cost $2.80/km at this point. From Egmont Village, there is a 16km road that leads to the park, then another 6.5km to the visitor centre. That's just once you get to Egmont Village. She was pleasant and we were just so blessed already with Marshall's kindness. The conversation was wonderful.
Once we got to our car, we packed up our gear and headed around the corner to sign out at the visitor's centre. The cab driver followed us to the visitor centre parking lot to make sure we were okay, then she was on her way. We were almost at the visitor's centre door when we realized that her van's lights were the only lights lighting the area. We had to stop jogging to the center's doorway, we couldn't see a thing.
Ran back to our car - whose interior light doesn't work, and I pulled out the hand crank lantern and flashlight. It was raining still and cold. We just wanted to get back to NP.
The drive back is windy and steep. And tonight was foggy.
Oh yeah, and at the VC on our way out, our fabulous car stalled. And it took him a while to start up again. We actually thought we were going to be stuck up there. We have AA membership, but so not where we wanted to be anymore.
We were so happy to be in our car driving back to the Seaspray. Our trip cut down by 4 nights. We were done with river crossings. We don't want to deal with that right now. The rain just isn't stopping. We need a break. Whanganui NP is running into similar slip situation, the Ruapehu AMC is an option for the FALL - we don't want to deal with snow run off at the moment. Let's let the mountains return to summer mode before attempting these hikes.
And then there was that wee little bunny that crossed the road. I couldn't stop. But he did - right in front of our stupid car. Wee little bunny meets headlights of Sir Huntington. I didn't feel him hit the car, and I hope he made it across the street, but we just couldn't stop.
Back in New Plymouth, we walked up to the Seaspray at the same time that Janine was locking the door. Surprised to see us, she opened up the door and asked why we were back so soon. And it's like we just starting pouring out all this information about everything we had just gone through. Jabber. So much information. She grabbed us a key and told us to get our gear and go get some food.
Burger joints were just closed - so the dinner we had been dreaming about from when we turned away from that one river was gone. Domino's it is. Nice, cheap, multi mealed dinner.
You get really hungry after a tramp. We did a day hike TWICE in the same day to make it back to safety. Everyone said we were lucky. Everyone said we made the right decision. It is supposed to rain all night on that side of the mountain, and we would have been trapped at that hut. We did our research, we knew enough. You have to use your common sense. That last river crossing was dreadful and it could have turned out terrible. But it didn't. And we were safe. We were out of the river and into a dry warm place. Like home, the Seaspray house has been here for us.
We're done with Taranaki for now. Maybe we'll be back in the late summer/early fall. But this mountain conquered us. Janine says we have done amazingly well, being able to do some of the tramps we did in the worst weather. They don't see a lot of backpackers who are ACTUALLY backpackers at their hostel. She was impressed.
Eating pizza, enjoying much needed liquids, snacking on duette chocolate sticks and starting yet another Wasgij, blindside playing on life fm, the radio station they play at this hostel (this is how we found out they were Christians). A comfortable evening. We were so happy.
And for our last day in New Plymouth, hosing down of all our gear (to help stop the spread of Didymo), to wash out all the riverness, laundry to clean our soaked gear, a trip to Kiwi Outdoors to figure out our stove problem, grocery shop for future tramps, and time with puzzles just chilling out.
We started a competition between us. We each have our own wasgij puzzle. I don't think we'll finish them in time before we leave this morning. There is still much to do.
Speaking to Janine last night, she suggested we head to the south island. We want to tramp through the fiords at the beginning of October - the tramping season starts October 28th. So the earlier, the better. She suggested heading down now to enjoy the long drive. We might just do that. Save the forest parks and remaining national parks of the north island for a better season.
Tomorrow, who knows where we will wake up. It's all part of the adventure.
Oh, and did I mention that our dear car, Sir Huntington III, is infested with ants??
Cause that's normal.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
City Living: Time in New Plymouth
We've spent a good amount of time in this city. Partly due to Sir Huntington's medical visits and operation, partly due to the fact that it is our base for our hikes up Taranaki.
We leave today for the 'around the mountain' low level circuit. We are not going to complete the whole circuit, as the track from Holly Hut to North Egmont Visitor's centre was not the most ideal track for us. We experienced it once, and now that the snow has been going up and down in level again, it's best to avoid that area. Instead we will travel in the opposite direction, towards the Maketawa Hut and hopefully hike all around to the Kahui hut, and return, skipping the Maketawa Hut in the end for one long day before our return to New Plymouth. We'll see. Brent would like to keep this trip a little bit shorter (in terms of nights).
We found out yesterday that part of the Wanganui track we were thinking of travelling has been wiped out due to a giant slip. They are doing emergency repairs as we speak, however it might put Wanganui National Park out of our trip until further notice. There are a great deal of forest parks coming up as well as Tongariro National Park. We may base out of National Park (it's actually the name of a town here) and do the 'around the Mountain' for Mt. Ruapehu in Tongariro NP and then head south through some forest parks. We'll keep you posted.
None the less, we've spent our time in New Plymouth living in the city. The city is a great base for backpackers. You are so close to the national park, but the city also offers a great central location for many coastal tracks both north and south of the city, as well as a wide range of hikes through the city. We've spent every day outside of the park wandering around different trails.
Notes from our time in the city.
IRD. We finally got our IRD numbers. And by this, I actually mean that within 15mins of arriving at the office, the Internal Revenue Department hooked us up. And it's all because of the wonderful Emma-Jane. She was the receptionist who was helping us out with some questions about our forms. The reason we require IRDs (comparible to SIN numbers back home) is to both work AND allow us to put money into our savings account and receive a better tax break. They tax SUPER HIGH on bank accounts. Everything is high. Interest is near 7% (yay!!), mortgage rates are currently hovering around the 9% mark, tax is 12 or 12.5% which is comparible to Canada - HOWEVER, their GST is included in their prices. No surprise tax hit at the teller no matter where you go in this country. So wonderful! Anyway - so we showed up to speak to the IRD about having our cards mailed back home (as we will never have a fixed address here). E-J wanted to help us figure out how to get our numbers to us sooner, as shipping them to Canada would mean that we would not see our numbers for at least a month or more. So she went to the back and spoke to the mystery people we never met, and came back to tell us that it would only be a moment. A moment to process our application and provide us with a paper that is officially stamped with our IRD numbers on it. Which means that we were set and ready to go!! Amazing. So wonderful. Thank you Emma-Jane and crew!!!
Speaking of money. Something about NZ currency. They have coins: 10c, 20c, 50c, 1$, 2$. They have bills: 5$, 10$, 20$, 50$, 100$. The bills physically get bigger as the value goes up. The coins don't follow the same pattern. So yeah - 10c is their smallest currency. Which means that there is thing called rounding that happens in NZ. You still go to the supermarket and see prices at 3.84 or 19.87. If you pay EFTPOS (debit) the exact amount is taken from your account to the penny. If you pay cash - they round up or down the cost. If your total is $19.87 - you actually pay $20.00. At that store you lose out on 3c. They figure that eventually it will all even itself out. Ugh. So we try to keep the numbers under 5c, so we can gain more than we lose. It's actually quite hard to achieve.
We went to the bank and transfered a big chunk of our money into our savings account so that we could benefit from our financial contribution to our NZ bank and possibly make enough interest to break even from SH III's medical bills. :) Here's hoping!
In the cities, we're always in grocery stores. Searching out for the sales. The main stores, Woolworth, Countdown and Foodtown - and quite possibly New World as well, are all overseen by the same upper company. There is also a Pak & Save - which is part bulk, part no frills, and that's the one I described as shopping in WalMart. We know where things cost less in each of these stores. We are always picking up food for the trails - so we find ourselves always in these stores shopping. Living on a budget, looking for the best sales. Always. Amusing.
Sarah, one of the hostesses at the Seaspray, made lemon loaf a few days ago and invited us to have a piece. It was delicious. The seaspray house will be known to me as the place where the hostesses offer us cake. :)
Brent and I went to the movies this week. We were always planning on seeing the Batman movie on a big screen, so decided to finally check it out in NP. And the reason we chose NP is because of their AMAZING movie food combos. Take note Canada - I expect this when we return!! Not only is the cost of seeing a movie in New Plymouth more less than half the price as seeing it in Auckland (remember - $23/person). It was only 10$ each in NZ dollars (cheaper then home) - then we splurged on a combo number 1, for $13.50. Just to say that we did it. You get two small pops (you can upgrade to a medium for like 50c or something, I don't remember), one large popcorn, and TWO chocotops. Mmmmmm. What is a chocotop - a two scoop ice cream cone, in a waffle cone, dipped in chocolate. They just pull them out of the freezer, already in a small plastic bag. So yummy. Like the best movie combo ever. And the movie was good too!
I don't remember if I posted about this before - but there is one thing that blows my mind in this country. They do NOT recycle. They say they do, but I have yet to see it. They have signs everywhere asking you to please recycle - but no blue bins. Only trash bins. In NP, you are only allowed to put out one trash bag a week for garbage, anything above and you are charged for it. However, you can put out recycling bags and they will take them free of charge. When asked about this system, someone confided in us that the 'recycle bags' are picked up in the same truck as the garbage, but they are never separated at the plant. They just throw them all together. Maybe they are getting ready for when a plant opens up? It's terrible to come from an uber recycle/green bin city like Toronto to this. Especially in Auckland, I was blown away. I would expect a first world nation like NZ to be on the ball with this. Hopefully in time.
Driving. We went back out to Hwy 43 (take 2). We travelled north of the city to walk along the beach near whitecliffs walkway, but we missed low tide, which meant that it was no longer possible to access the beach. We'll you could, but the water would have swept you away. So instead of driving back to the city the easy way, we took some gravel road shortcuts to revisit the town of Whangamomona (bustling population of 10 (TEN), greater Whangamomona area - pop approx 200) on the hilly and windy forgotten world hwy 43. Why? To get our passports stamped. Whangamomona is the capitol of the republic of Whanga, a place which is generally led by a president of the animal world - a goat and a poodle have each taken their place in the presidental chair. In 1989, this area decided to call itself a Republic. They are officially independent of NZ - and will celebrate 20 years on January 24th, 2009. Go figure.
And now our passports are stamped.
We missed the mountainous area of Hwy 43 cause I took a shortcut that I didn't know. Oh well. We wanted to nab some pictures - but it will probably be a similar drive through the fiords. So we'll just wait.
We visited the three sisters yesterday. Well, there are only 2 now, I think one crumbled to the ground and passed away. They are 25m high pinnacles out on a beach 1 hour outside of New Plymouth. You can only visit this beach at low tide as well. Restricted access much? You have about 4 good hours - 2 prior to low tide, and 2 directly after low tide. We can't read tide charts - we tried the night before. So we just guessed it to be approx 7.50am. We could access the beach, so we were doing okay. But the tide was starting to rise again for sure.
We completed several coastal walks. They have a 7km stretch that runs along the Tasman Sea, similar to the walkway in Vancouver. It's a beautiful walk. The waves can be quite high and splash up onto the walkway and the piers. Intense. Surfing is a favorite out here. We, the non learned surfers, area waiting for time on the East Coast. The west coast has a stronger current - and it's best to leave it to the hard cores. :)
We even went to the zoo here in NP. It took about 20mins to walk around. Strolling. :(
Walked down to back beach to find seals two nights ago. Did not see a single one. Again, a beach that can only be accessed at certain tides. The sand out on the west coast (here and in Raglan for sure, and along the surf highway) is black, due to a high iron content. We were walking around giant black sand dunes, one of which was washed away by the currents. Could make a comeback someday.
Climbed Paritutu rock yesterday. A giant cliff in the city limits. We don't know who maintains this climb, but it's well chained. It's a very steep climb up a rocky cliff. It's a quick climb - maybe 15mins one way - offering great views of the ocean and city. On a clear day, you would be able to see Taranaki. We might climb it again on our last day here to see if we can see Taranaki.
Went to a fruit and veggie stand on the way back from the 3 sisters yesterday and were very disappointed. We were spoiled in Otorohanga with the cost at the fruit & veggie stand out there. A lot of produce for 4.56. Yummy!! The prices at this stand were higher then in grocery stores. Unfortunate.
In Ontario, you drive down a highway and there are signs that tell you how far you are from certain cities. You don't really get that in NZ. At least not on the highways we have been driving. You sometimes only know what the next city is, and usually you only find that out at a road junction. At a major junction, you will see a sign that will point out the direction of a city and maybe offer how many kms away it is. Maybe. You might also only get the name of the major city and the hwy. It's interesting to drive here not always knowing how far away you are. Our speedometer is working now, so we can rely on our odometer to tell us - so for now, we're doing okay. Before, we never knew how far we were from a city/town. On the other hand - everything here has a name. Every street you cross is named, every bridge you drive over (usually one lane bridges) are named, all the streams and rivers have posted names - which helps with direction/navigation. That's something you don't necessarily find back home.
We have enjoyed the free musuem and galleries here. I love cities that offer free entry to everyone to their exhibitions. This allows for all classes of people to enjoy exhibits and enrich their families with culture. Costs sometimes keeps families away.
We have spent late evenings building WASGIJs at the hostels. Jigsaw puzzles that show one picture on the actual box, and the puzzle itself could be from the future or what is on the opposite view of the box. Ex - if we are looking at four people standing in front of us shocked as they look at something, the puzzle is then the picture of what those four people are looking at. There are also mystery puzzles that show a heist or something on the box, and the puzzle itself is the solution. They are challenging yet addictive.
Menace on the mountain. There is a carpark that has been targetted for monstrous vehicle vandalism on Mt. Taranaki. It's called the Plateau. We will not be parking at this carpark, but are none the less a little nervous about our car spending the next several nights alone in a carpark near the visitor centre. There was an article on the front page of the newspaper yesterday about the vandalism. Cars bascially beat up with bats. Windows shattered beyond use (which is WAY too much money to replace!!!). It's scary. I actually only thought we would have to worry about theft - so we keep nothing in the car. But it sounds much worse here. We'll talk to the DOC today about that as well.
Stupid bored teenagers or adults. Who does that??
And today we head out. Life in the city is over, and it's time to head back into the wilderness for a long stretch of time. Sorted out our food (+1 day and evening in case of emergency) for the next hiking trip. We'll be back to NP for one night before driving down the surf highway to Wanganui, and possibly up to National Park to base ourselves for a few more hiking trips.
Pray for our poor little car left alone in the visitor centre car park. I don't think we can afford any sort of senseless vandalism like that on our car.
We leave today for the 'around the mountain' low level circuit. We are not going to complete the whole circuit, as the track from Holly Hut to North Egmont Visitor's centre was not the most ideal track for us. We experienced it once, and now that the snow has been going up and down in level again, it's best to avoid that area. Instead we will travel in the opposite direction, towards the Maketawa Hut and hopefully hike all around to the Kahui hut, and return, skipping the Maketawa Hut in the end for one long day before our return to New Plymouth. We'll see. Brent would like to keep this trip a little bit shorter (in terms of nights).
We found out yesterday that part of the Wanganui track we were thinking of travelling has been wiped out due to a giant slip. They are doing emergency repairs as we speak, however it might put Wanganui National Park out of our trip until further notice. There are a great deal of forest parks coming up as well as Tongariro National Park. We may base out of National Park (it's actually the name of a town here) and do the 'around the Mountain' for Mt. Ruapehu in Tongariro NP and then head south through some forest parks. We'll keep you posted.
None the less, we've spent our time in New Plymouth living in the city. The city is a great base for backpackers. You are so close to the national park, but the city also offers a great central location for many coastal tracks both north and south of the city, as well as a wide range of hikes through the city. We've spent every day outside of the park wandering around different trails.
Notes from our time in the city.
IRD. We finally got our IRD numbers. And by this, I actually mean that within 15mins of arriving at the office, the Internal Revenue Department hooked us up. And it's all because of the wonderful Emma-Jane. She was the receptionist who was helping us out with some questions about our forms. The reason we require IRDs (comparible to SIN numbers back home) is to both work AND allow us to put money into our savings account and receive a better tax break. They tax SUPER HIGH on bank accounts. Everything is high. Interest is near 7% (yay!!), mortgage rates are currently hovering around the 9% mark, tax is 12 or 12.5% which is comparible to Canada - HOWEVER, their GST is included in their prices. No surprise tax hit at the teller no matter where you go in this country. So wonderful! Anyway - so we showed up to speak to the IRD about having our cards mailed back home (as we will never have a fixed address here). E-J wanted to help us figure out how to get our numbers to us sooner, as shipping them to Canada would mean that we would not see our numbers for at least a month or more. So she went to the back and spoke to the mystery people we never met, and came back to tell us that it would only be a moment. A moment to process our application and provide us with a paper that is officially stamped with our IRD numbers on it. Which means that we were set and ready to go!! Amazing. So wonderful. Thank you Emma-Jane and crew!!!
Speaking of money. Something about NZ currency. They have coins: 10c, 20c, 50c, 1$, 2$. They have bills: 5$, 10$, 20$, 50$, 100$. The bills physically get bigger as the value goes up. The coins don't follow the same pattern. So yeah - 10c is their smallest currency. Which means that there is thing called rounding that happens in NZ. You still go to the supermarket and see prices at 3.84 or 19.87. If you pay EFTPOS (debit) the exact amount is taken from your account to the penny. If you pay cash - they round up or down the cost. If your total is $19.87 - you actually pay $20.00. At that store you lose out on 3c. They figure that eventually it will all even itself out. Ugh. So we try to keep the numbers under 5c, so we can gain more than we lose. It's actually quite hard to achieve.
We went to the bank and transfered a big chunk of our money into our savings account so that we could benefit from our financial contribution to our NZ bank and possibly make enough interest to break even from SH III's medical bills. :) Here's hoping!
In the cities, we're always in grocery stores. Searching out for the sales. The main stores, Woolworth, Countdown and Foodtown - and quite possibly New World as well, are all overseen by the same upper company. There is also a Pak & Save - which is part bulk, part no frills, and that's the one I described as shopping in WalMart. We know where things cost less in each of these stores. We are always picking up food for the trails - so we find ourselves always in these stores shopping. Living on a budget, looking for the best sales. Always. Amusing.
Sarah, one of the hostesses at the Seaspray, made lemon loaf a few days ago and invited us to have a piece. It was delicious. The seaspray house will be known to me as the place where the hostesses offer us cake. :)
Brent and I went to the movies this week. We were always planning on seeing the Batman movie on a big screen, so decided to finally check it out in NP. And the reason we chose NP is because of their AMAZING movie food combos. Take note Canada - I expect this when we return!! Not only is the cost of seeing a movie in New Plymouth more less than half the price as seeing it in Auckland (remember - $23/person). It was only 10$ each in NZ dollars (cheaper then home) - then we splurged on a combo number 1, for $13.50. Just to say that we did it. You get two small pops (you can upgrade to a medium for like 50c or something, I don't remember), one large popcorn, and TWO chocotops. Mmmmmm. What is a chocotop - a two scoop ice cream cone, in a waffle cone, dipped in chocolate. They just pull them out of the freezer, already in a small plastic bag. So yummy. Like the best movie combo ever. And the movie was good too!
I don't remember if I posted about this before - but there is one thing that blows my mind in this country. They do NOT recycle. They say they do, but I have yet to see it. They have signs everywhere asking you to please recycle - but no blue bins. Only trash bins. In NP, you are only allowed to put out one trash bag a week for garbage, anything above and you are charged for it. However, you can put out recycling bags and they will take them free of charge. When asked about this system, someone confided in us that the 'recycle bags' are picked up in the same truck as the garbage, but they are never separated at the plant. They just throw them all together. Maybe they are getting ready for when a plant opens up? It's terrible to come from an uber recycle/green bin city like Toronto to this. Especially in Auckland, I was blown away. I would expect a first world nation like NZ to be on the ball with this. Hopefully in time.
Driving. We went back out to Hwy 43 (take 2). We travelled north of the city to walk along the beach near whitecliffs walkway, but we missed low tide, which meant that it was no longer possible to access the beach. We'll you could, but the water would have swept you away. So instead of driving back to the city the easy way, we took some gravel road shortcuts to revisit the town of Whangamomona (bustling population of 10 (TEN), greater Whangamomona area - pop approx 200) on the hilly and windy forgotten world hwy 43. Why? To get our passports stamped. Whangamomona is the capitol of the republic of Whanga, a place which is generally led by a president of the animal world - a goat and a poodle have each taken their place in the presidental chair. In 1989, this area decided to call itself a Republic. They are officially independent of NZ - and will celebrate 20 years on January 24th, 2009. Go figure.
And now our passports are stamped.
We missed the mountainous area of Hwy 43 cause I took a shortcut that I didn't know. Oh well. We wanted to nab some pictures - but it will probably be a similar drive through the fiords. So we'll just wait.
We visited the three sisters yesterday. Well, there are only 2 now, I think one crumbled to the ground and passed away. They are 25m high pinnacles out on a beach 1 hour outside of New Plymouth. You can only visit this beach at low tide as well. Restricted access much? You have about 4 good hours - 2 prior to low tide, and 2 directly after low tide. We can't read tide charts - we tried the night before. So we just guessed it to be approx 7.50am. We could access the beach, so we were doing okay. But the tide was starting to rise again for sure.
We completed several coastal walks. They have a 7km stretch that runs along the Tasman Sea, similar to the walkway in Vancouver. It's a beautiful walk. The waves can be quite high and splash up onto the walkway and the piers. Intense. Surfing is a favorite out here. We, the non learned surfers, area waiting for time on the East Coast. The west coast has a stronger current - and it's best to leave it to the hard cores. :)
We even went to the zoo here in NP. It took about 20mins to walk around. Strolling. :(
Walked down to back beach to find seals two nights ago. Did not see a single one. Again, a beach that can only be accessed at certain tides. The sand out on the west coast (here and in Raglan for sure, and along the surf highway) is black, due to a high iron content. We were walking around giant black sand dunes, one of which was washed away by the currents. Could make a comeback someday.
Climbed Paritutu rock yesterday. A giant cliff in the city limits. We don't know who maintains this climb, but it's well chained. It's a very steep climb up a rocky cliff. It's a quick climb - maybe 15mins one way - offering great views of the ocean and city. On a clear day, you would be able to see Taranaki. We might climb it again on our last day here to see if we can see Taranaki.
Went to a fruit and veggie stand on the way back from the 3 sisters yesterday and were very disappointed. We were spoiled in Otorohanga with the cost at the fruit & veggie stand out there. A lot of produce for 4.56. Yummy!! The prices at this stand were higher then in grocery stores. Unfortunate.
In Ontario, you drive down a highway and there are signs that tell you how far you are from certain cities. You don't really get that in NZ. At least not on the highways we have been driving. You sometimes only know what the next city is, and usually you only find that out at a road junction. At a major junction, you will see a sign that will point out the direction of a city and maybe offer how many kms away it is. Maybe. You might also only get the name of the major city and the hwy. It's interesting to drive here not always knowing how far away you are. Our speedometer is working now, so we can rely on our odometer to tell us - so for now, we're doing okay. Before, we never knew how far we were from a city/town. On the other hand - everything here has a name. Every street you cross is named, every bridge you drive over (usually one lane bridges) are named, all the streams and rivers have posted names - which helps with direction/navigation. That's something you don't necessarily find back home.
We have enjoyed the free musuem and galleries here. I love cities that offer free entry to everyone to their exhibitions. This allows for all classes of people to enjoy exhibits and enrich their families with culture. Costs sometimes keeps families away.
We have spent late evenings building WASGIJs at the hostels. Jigsaw puzzles that show one picture on the actual box, and the puzzle itself could be from the future or what is on the opposite view of the box. Ex - if we are looking at four people standing in front of us shocked as they look at something, the puzzle is then the picture of what those four people are looking at. There are also mystery puzzles that show a heist or something on the box, and the puzzle itself is the solution. They are challenging yet addictive.
Menace on the mountain. There is a carpark that has been targetted for monstrous vehicle vandalism on Mt. Taranaki. It's called the Plateau. We will not be parking at this carpark, but are none the less a little nervous about our car spending the next several nights alone in a carpark near the visitor centre. There was an article on the front page of the newspaper yesterday about the vandalism. Cars bascially beat up with bats. Windows shattered beyond use (which is WAY too much money to replace!!!). It's scary. I actually only thought we would have to worry about theft - so we keep nothing in the car. But it sounds much worse here. We'll talk to the DOC today about that as well.
Stupid bored teenagers or adults. Who does that??
And today we head out. Life in the city is over, and it's time to head back into the wilderness for a long stretch of time. Sorted out our food (+1 day and evening in case of emergency) for the next hiking trip. We'll be back to NP for one night before driving down the surf highway to Wanganui, and possibly up to National Park to base ourselves for a few more hiking trips.
Pray for our poor little car left alone in the visitor centre car park. I don't think we can afford any sort of senseless vandalism like that on our car.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Pouakai Circuit: A track with a view
I was the first to cross the slip. The snow was deep, but you never knew how deep or how soft it was going to be. The drop off was to our right, so we dug deep with our left foot and side planted our right foot towards the mountain. We were crossing with full packs, it was our first day. I don't know if being heavier helps you or hinders you in these types of situations.
The snow shifted below my right foot. My left foot dislodged. I was going down. I spread myself out as wide as possible and leaned into the snow. That wasn't slowing me down. My eye was focused on the rock 15 feet below. Praying that I would stop at that point.
I still didn't know if it was the cliff's edge or simply a rock held on the mountain by the snowfall. All I know is I wasn't slowing down.
DAY ONE - North Egmont Visitor Centre to Holly Hut
We never expected to hike in the snow. I don't think people at the DOC expected us to have to hike in the snow either. This winter has been strange. The weather is wetter then ever (this following an extremely dry summer), and there is snow in places that the kiwis don't expect. It's rather amusing when you speak to New Zealanders about snow. Brent's convinced they are afraid of snow. The near mention of a sprinkling of snow on a mountain top and the people we encounter urge us to reconsider hikes.
A sprinkling of snow?
We set out early for Egmont National Park. To this day, we had yet to see the summit of Mt. Taranaki. The weather pattern on this part of the island is almost controlled by this mountain. The land jets out into the ocean, with the centre of the land being this giant mountain. The weather can change at a moment's notice. The weather is moving towards the park in every direction all the time. You can watch the storms rolling in from the Pouakai range. From the city, if it's cloudy, you can only imagine.
We left the seaspray house around 8am. Huntington only stalled twice on our way there (yay?). The drive out was quiet. It was Sunday, August 17th. It was a terrible day. It was rainy and very cloudy. We enjoyed the deserted drive out through the farmlands. Painting our own idea of what the mountain must look like behind the clouds. We knew how tall it was, but had no reference. We still hadn't seen the Tongariro national park mountains either. These four mountains (incl Taranaki) being the tallest of the North Island.
We parked our car at the Kaiauai Car Park and set out our packs for an approx 2km hike up the windy road to the visitor centre. This would help shorten our treck at the end of our hike on the Tuesday, meeting our car earlier then the centre. Today, it was hailing. Lots of hail. Little tiny hail balls, but lots of it. Quite frankly, it didn't bother me - I liked it better then the rain we had been getting. At least, so far, it was less wet. :)
The road was covered in slush. The last part of our drive was slower due to the cover. It was the first time we saw any part of a real winter. We were hailed on in the Puerora Forest Park one day and then again in New Plymouth on our first morning, but we had never seen a permanent residue on the ground. It was slick to walk on. The roads were so windy and steep. You had to focus all your energy on staying upright and steady with your pace.
Road closed.
Literally, the road was locked up. I don't know who locks the roads, but someone had come by and bolted it shut. It's not even something you can walk around. They make sure the gate blocks everyone. So we climbed through it. :) Awkwardly, cause we had our packs on and at this point didn't want to be taking them off to set into the wet slush. Brent hoisted himself over the bars and I somehow squeezed my way through the vertical bar. I have no concept of how wide I am with this pack, but the pack more then doubles my width.
We continued. Cars started to pass us by driving slowly down the hills. Waving to us as they passed. Climbing comraderie. Their cars were covered in snow. A look at things to come?
I can't explain how it feels when you spend 6 hours hiking in forest and then the path opens up and you can see the road. At the end of a hike, it's the most wonderful thing - because road = car = finish line. It was almost the same thing this morning with the road winding so much, it was a tough start to our day. A steep start. The moment the road finally opened up and a sign posted the Visitor's Centre - it was a joyous moment. :) With the road being closed down below however, we didn't know if that meant that the visitor centre would be closed.
Thank you God.
Open.
We still hadn't purchased the maps - because we wanted to speak to the DOC people at the centre prior to hiking out. Motivation to purchase our maps at the centre as well.
The woman working on Sunday was fantastic. Probably the best DOC personel we have encountered to date. Very informative - which is exactly what you need. We walked over to the 3D model of the park and showed our route to the woman. We spoke of the snow - which was unusually low for them. The snow was down the 700m. We were literally standing in a good amount of snow at the centre itself. It was only to get deeper higher in altitude. The was an avalanche warning on the south side of the mountain, due to the amount of snow they had received over the last day. A huge dumping. You never know how the mountain will treat it. The snow melts quickly off the plants in the sun, and could shift and melt just as much on the mountainside. Winter items they suggest for hikers are crampons (ice picks for your shoes), and lots of experience. We weren't hiking to the summit, and we don't know how to use crampons or an ice pick - so we did not carry these items. We spoke to the woman about our options. She didn't know how the snow was on the north side as it had just been freshly coated with another layer.
"You should be fine, but if you hit an area you aren't too sure about, just come back down this way and head towards the Maketawa Hut (part of the lower around the mountain circuit)". Good idea. We now had a back up plan.
Brent and I discussed our options. The weather was supposed to clear, so hiking the first chunk of the track to Holly Hut could be better tomorrow. But it could also be worse. We were expecting more snow and hail today. We decided to just stick to our original plan and track to Holly Hut, which meant our first day would be in deep snow. Knee deep at least. Could be interesting.
We filled out our intentions form and left it with the DOC. An intentions form should be filled out with every over night hiking a tramper does. You list your name and everyone in your party, all the gear you are bringing (they have a check off list of important gear that the search & rescue teams are interested to know if you carry - mountain radio, cell phone, first aid gear, winter clothes, extra clothes, extra food, etc.), any medical conditions of any party members, special medicine that you are carrying, emergency contact information, your entire route plan & back up plan, where your car is (if you have one), etc. All this is used to find you if you get lost or do not return. You fill out your expected return (date/time). The form is kept in a binder on the date of your expected return. If the DOC does not hear from you on the day of your expected return, they give you a day. If you still have not signed out with a person during office hours or in the sign out book (just outside the centre) within 24hours, they start looking for your car, calling your mobile, calling your emergency contact (to see if there has been communication), go to the huts to see if we signed in/out of each one we intended to walk through (in a hut intentions book - found at each hut - you must indicate your next planned hike/destination, as it helps with search and rescues in the event that you go missing), and follow all the signs/information left behind by the missing party. It's a pretty intense system - but it's there to save your life if something goes wrong. On the mountain tracks, they don't mess around.
Side note - we had a great conversation with the DOC woman about the timings of the tracks. We asked about their accuracy, since our hiking times seem to always be about 2hrs longer then what is indicated on the track information or the markers on the actual tracks. We all agree - super tall men are timing these tracks carrying a daypack. This does not help the wee folks who are carrying full packs. You would think that a tramping track would be timed for the average tramper - but I really don't get that feeling. Some of the acents are steep and the steps are difficult (through tree roots or up rocks). If you were tall - it would be a breeze. But we're hoisting ourselves with our poles and you expend A LOT of energy. It was hilarious, she had a meeting coming up on the Monday, and she said she would bring it up for discussion. The DOC is going to be recalculating all their tracks this coming summer to revisit the timings. Erosion of the land plays a big part in the extention of the times - the tracks haven't been timed out in a long time.
We start our longest tramp thus far. Two nights, three days, and our first circuit (so we don't have to come back on any of our tracks).
It starts with a long climb up with stairs. STAIRS. There are stairs and ladders and bridges all over the parks. You never know when they are going to pop up, and sometimes you wonder how certain areas get them while others don't. The simple humps have a ladder, while you're literally rock climbing through mud to scale another elevation. It's amusing. But to start off with stairs is rough. All tracks with an immediate ascent to this degree seems to drain your energy at the start. You just spent three days relaxing from all the hiking and you start out hard core. We passed by two boys who asked us if we were going to climb the mountain. I smiled. I told them it was not safe to climb the mountain because of all the snow. (which is true) Other people walking down the stairs, simply enjoying the snow wished us luck as we walked by. We were the only ones on the mountain that day with our gear. It was obvious what we were doing.
It was a nice hike. We were climbing through sub alpine forest, so we were above the shrub levels a lot, allowing us to overlook the farmlands below. Not much about the mountain, that was still clouded over. The views were nice. It made our mini breaks enjoyable.
Walking on snow. This track had no markers. You just followed what you thought was the track. Pretty obvious most of the time, as it was either this narrow path of snow or the sheer drop off the cliff. Easy decision. Stay on snow. The only thing that kept us going was knowing there was a track somehwere below our feet. At points, the track was 4-5 feet below our feet. We stood up high on the track. The snow was thick in parts and you skirted around the tops of the alpine trees, which really should be drapping over your head. It made some parts of the track difficult. You were competing for the track space with these thick trees that could just as easily pushed your footing to the side and have you step into oblivion, and stumble down the side to some shrubs below.
I hated the parts where there wasn't shrub below. I would call out to Brent to hug the cliff side as much as possible. It was shrubs to your left, and a drop to your right. Sometimes too far. We were cautious with every step, fully respecting the situation we were in. We had never done this type of snow hiking. The path was unknown to us. There were no footsteps to follow. We were the ones creating the path. Every step would be stomped deep into the snow as deep as we could go. Sometimes you skirted overtop the hard surface, then the next step your entire leg would be swallowed up by the snow. It was unpredictable and challenging. Tiring. It was an estimated 4-5 hour hike to the hut. With snow, we didn't know how much longer that would take us.
There was a boulder at the top of a cliff that stopped us to think for a bit. We had to hug our bodies to this bolder to access the track, but the rest of the track seemed fine. In the summer, this part might not even look challenging. Maybe it was an easy part, but you had no idea what the snow was hiding. There were rocks along the edge, but they dropped down. Sometimes you wonder if the rocks were only there because the snow encased them.
I like leading the tramps we do. I probe all the situations before making a decision and forging the track that Brent eventually follows. I'd much rather be the one to slip, then to watch him slip. I probed every snow patch I could find with my pole and then just went for it. Safe. Nothing to blink at. After making a crossing I spend a minute explaining to Brent what I did so that he knows what to look out for. I inform him of any concerns of a footing I might have taken. The system works well for us.
We were getting closer to the mountain, deeper into snow. It was beautiful. It was daunting. This mountain is intense. The clouds moved in and out all the time. Hail one minute, snow the next, then a beautiful crisp sunny view of the world below.
A surprise. When we stopped for lunch at a track junction. We were about to pull out the usual crackers and cheese delight. Brent reaches into his bag to take out his portion when he pulls out peanut butter & jam sandwiches. We totally forgot we made these in the morning. And I know that might not sound exciting for anyone reading this, but we expend a LOT of energy on these hikes, and this was like a gourmet meal for us. Wonderful!!!
The valleys. Every time we hit an area that would be a potential path of an avalanche we spent a moment thinking about our route before booting it across. Only because there was a warning on the south side. We took the extra caution. The valleys and slips take you down snowy drops or force you to cross steep slips that on a summer day are areas where rock and sand lay barely gripping the side of the mountain. Difficult terrain in the summer. Maybe it is easier in the winter. This track might just take longer because of the snow, but in the end, the snow might help make the track easier to dig yourself into.
We dropped down snowy valleys and then hiked back up on our hands and knees. If you got too hot, just kneel into the snow. It was a benefit we had today. On our second valley crossing, we crossed paths with the first hikers we had ever seen in the same park as us. Actually, they weren't even hikers. They were runners. With long johns and shorts, running shoes with NO socks, standing in deep snow. They were coming from another track. We spoke about the slips the other would encounter to share information and we were on our way. This time with a guide of foot prints to follow. Which helped at some parts. It was a nice change.
The Boomerang slip.
The danger sign is posted on each side. One person cross at a time. In the summer, this slip could hurt. If you cross and dislodge a rock and someone else rushed behind you, it could be so dangerous (hence why its one person at a time). Brent and I made our way to the edge of the thick rock patches on the slip and then I stepped out into oblivion. Every step leaning into the mountain, keeping my body as low as possible. This thing was steep. You had to cross over and up. Again, the snow was sometimes hard and sometimes you would bury your leg. You didn't want this inconsistency on the slip, cause that could lead you to slip further down the mountain. There were rocks 20-25 feet down the slip, but they could be the cliff's edge. You didn't know from this angle. I dug out our track, which was tiring. It meant that I would spend a longer amount of time on the slip. Trying to ensure that a solid ground would be available for Brent to follow. His pack is heavier then mine and top/back heavy due to the tent sitting above and extra water supply sitting on his back (proportionately - we still don't know who is carrying the most weight for their body size though). Forging a track is the least I can do.
Funny enough, the boomerang slip was the easiest slip to cross. Maybe that's because on an earlier one I did start to slide down the cliff. Your heart starts to race because you don't know if you will pick up speed or slow down. You can only pray that spreading yourself wide enough will allow you to slow down or help with grasping onto a rock before tumbling over. This slip was just long. It was the widest one to cross. In the summer months, this slip must be wicked challenging.
The rest of the day's track was similar. Up and down the snow valleys until we started to move towards to the Pouakai range, and further away from the snowy rock face and more towards snowy alpine forest once again. There were many ups and downs as we made our way to the hut. Passing animal footprints in the fresh snow as we hiked along. I took a picture of every bird footprint I could find. This is a kiwi zone, and you never know. (we're currently comparing them with one of our hostel's hosts' pictures - as she knows someone who has photographed kiwi footprings and the DOC is very interested in knowing about kiwi sightings in any form) Passing stoat traps every 100m. Walking across icy bridges with or without railings.
There was a map rescue at one point. Brent accidentally dropped the map (encased in a waterproof map holder) after crossing a bridge. It sat there dangling on the edge of the snowy ledge, hanging just over the stream down below. I quickly took off my pack and made my way very cautiously to the edge probing the snow as I advanced to the map. We needed that thing. Your topographic map helps to really place you in the park and helps with reading the track. We could follow the track without the map, but it would be walking into the unknown. I was just waiting for my weight to shift the snow and have the map and myself fall down the 8 feet into the stream.
That would have sucked.
This track was great - as we imagine most mountain tracks might be. You can see the track ahead of you so clearly laid out in the mountain side. It was a bonus on this trip. You turned a corner and across a valley, could see what you would be spending the next 20mins walking. We spotted the outhouses to the hut before we could see the hut. But what a wonderful sight it is. Hope of the end and possibly a warm fire. It was a steady descent followed by a river crossing and muddy ascent to the hut. We were clean and snowy all day. To end on a wet muddy note was unfortunate.
The hut. Holly Hut. Nestled in the alpine forest of Mt. Taranaki across from the Pouakai Range. This hut had lights!!! Solar powered lights that worked once it was dark enough outside.
Brent's view on huts - things get better with every hut we get to. The first hike, we didn't make the hut. Camped in the tent. The second hut we attempted, we spent the glorious night at the luxurious Bog Inn. This third hut attempt brought us here - with more bunks (I think it sleeps 32 - which by the way is creepy when it's just two of you), lights, running water and yes - rats. The mattresses were torn to shreads, probably being used as warm homes at night for the mountain dwellers. The green foam from inside the mats was everywhere. The kitchen was littered in rat feces and urine. This was beginning to be really discouraging. We both went to work. Brent started to make kindling for a fire. I started to clean up an area for us to sleep on by removing rat droppings and clearing off areas to place our things. Reviewing the hut intentions book (which also includes a comments section) you could see the rat problem was long standing. No matter, we just wanted to make the fire and get dinner going. Two things which would be firsts for us.
I placed a wood block right by the fire where there was a giant hole in a locked doorway. Looks like rats had chewed their way through here. Yuck.
45 matches. That's how many it took to start the fire. Yup. The kindling wouldn't light, we had no paper to use (we tried some newspaper I found near a rat's nest, but it had been made unusable by the previous four legged owners), the wood they supply at the huts are basically 2x4 wood blocks cut up into smaller blocks - so really difficult to use as fire wood (and you're luck if you get to a hut with an actual ax!!!). Brent tried for a while, and then I took over (I think he was getting frustrated). It was nearly impossible, until we found a book, which sadly had some pages sacrificed for the sake of warmth and heat. We tried to only use the pages with no writing on it, the advertisements, maybe the foreward...oh poor book. But we were soaked. The winter walk had dampened all our base layers and our gloves had to be wrung out.
Once I had the fire going, with Brent chopping away at the wood (bringing forth a narly blister on his hand) to ensure more fuel to feed the start of the fire (you're supposed to use coal to keep the fire going - something I know nothing about - but we tried. Learning how to feed coal to a wood fire), we were set. Brent started to pluck away at the stove - which we haver never used before - while I sat and watched the fire.
Squeek. Squeek.
Ugh, seriously?
The wood block was nudged. I looked over. Again. Slowly being pushed towards me.
You've got to be kidding me.
I kicked the wood block so hard into that door. This was followed by me building a giant wooden blockade to keep that stupid rat out. We have since found out that these rats are afraid of nothing. People have mentioned these rats biting through the boots of people who have tried to kick them away. They are relentless. Afraid of no people, will walk into a fully lit hut. They don't care. I was sooooo not having this tonight.
We clipped all the food we had in the rafter hanging near the stove. We hung everything, and slept with our packs between the wall and our bodies. Our gear would not be their next dinner. These rats are destructive.
Dinner was nice. Once the stove was figured out. This thing shot huge flames into the air on Brent's first few attempts. But we finally got it working right and boiling water was minutes away. Tonight's meal - the always talked about Zucchini lasagna. Mmmm.
It was nice to eat a hot meal. It was soupy - which happens when you follow the water directions listed on the bag - but it was a hot meal and delicious. Add 2 cups of boiling water, zip up pouch, wait 10minutes, voila - backcountry cuisine. Add a bit of our homemade scroggin' for desert, and life is wonderful.
Our scroggin - dried papaya with lime, dried pineapple, dried apple rings, dried apricots, raisins (or sultanas), salty peanuts (to help rebuild electrolytes), chocolate buttons, yogurt buttons, yogurt covered raisins and sunflower seeds. Yummy.
We spent the night by the fire trying to dry off our gloves and keep warm. Cleaned up any food scraps and went to bed.
Soon after making our way into the chosen loft bunk, mr. rat made a return to the door to try and gnaw away at my wooden blockade. To be able to sleep that night, I had to reinforce the stupid thing with another layer of wood and the coal's iron shovel to ensure that we would not be bothered through the night.
I then built a little blockade at the base of the door of our room.
And trust me, I slept that night. Peacefully. :)
DAY TWO - Holly Hut to Pouakai Hut
Morning came. Crisp day. Looking out the hut you could clearly see the Pouakai Range with a fresh coating of snow. It looked amazing. It snowed overnight. It was chilly. Boots were damp, gloves - sadly, still very wet and now cold. On the agenda - clean hut, make water, pack out.
I walked out towards the outhouses to take a picture of a sign that I saw the day before. Brent stayed back at the hut and stood on the porch, probably enjoying the clear day and view of the Pouakai range. I turned back to look at the hut.
(whistle) She's a beauty.
Brent thought I was talking about the hut. Yeah, no.
With a backcountry hut pass - which costs only 90$/year, we were able to stay at the Holly Hut, which sits in the mountain range. And on a clear day, has a gorgeous view of Mt. Taranaki that people would pay a pretty penny for.
Waking up in the mountains. It was the first time either of us had seen the summit. Not a cloud in the sky trying to hug the mountain top. It was beautiful, perfect morning light. A great motivation for the day.
We should have made water the night before, but we had a short hiking day today. The first day was about 6-6.5 hours for us. Today was supposed to only be 2.5 hours, so we expected no more then 5hours. The running water at this hut was hidden behind frozen pipes. The only saving grace was a dribbling tap outside the hut which you couldn't increase the flow to. It took time, but we got through making the five passings of water, er six, I accidentally spilled a bottle full.
The hike was cold to start off. Our gear had not dried out yet. Our gloves were soaked. Try to convince your fingers to go into soaking gloves when you can't even feel your fingers to begin with. Same with our toes - it took me hours to feel them again. The only downfall to winter hiking. Even with the right clothes, it's never enough.
The start of the hike was easier today. A steady descent through to a wetland area. We crossed the wetland on flooded boardwalks, over a bridge to start our way up the Pouakai Range. In the wetland, you were surrounded by mountains. It was that perfect moment I dream of. We took a video - unfortunately the weather had moved in and it was quite cloudy. Still beautiful.
We would spend the next few hours crossing over the range to the Pouakai Hut. Up and down all day. Sometimes guided by stairways, but usually on our own track. Through deep snow once again. The mountain would clear every once and a while to encourage us with a stunning view. Exhausted by an ascent, you couldn't argue why you were in NZ doing this hike when you would see the mountain.
We rounded the Hump (a peak in the range) and ended up in a tundra like area. Low grassy patches and deep snow. No route markers. I felt like I was in Nunavet back home. The hope was Brent spotting the hut down the range. We were beginning to like this ability to see ahead. It truly was helpful.
We followed a rough set of footprints that suddenly appeared. Sometimes looking old, while other times looking very fresh. Was someone at the hut? We hurried down the range to the hut walking heal heavy down snowy descents and across small bridges. At that moment, it was crisp. The view of New Plymouth, the view of the range, the mountain was clouded over, but how wonderful was this hut. Another room with a view.
The Pouakai Hut. I would definitely stay here again. Rat free, clean. Wonderful!!! Every hut gets better. At least at Holly we were able to keep the rats at bay for the evening. :) Brent and I each looked through the hut intentions book to see if there was ever a mention of rats. Nothing.
The footprints we ended up following were fresh, however the person was only passing through. We read their intentions. Up and back. A lot of people from the area do that in this park. I bet its a quick hike sans pack.
This night was so much smoother. Fire was up and running in little time (despite the fact that there was no ax at this hut), we sorted our dinner plans, dishes and water purification to ensure an efficient evening. There were no lights at this hut (that really is a luxury), so we had to plan to get things done by early nightfall. Eventually you would be doing something in the dark, but you tried to keep it to a minimum.
Dinner - texas bbq chicken. Another soupy concoction. Rice, beans, freeze dried chicken, mesquite sauce. It was yummy. Routine sets in. Time to make water. Check the fire. Wash dishes. Check the fire. Clean up the area, clip food in the rafters, snack on scroggin, drink plenty of water. Check the fire. I have wanted this for years. This trip. The routine, might not sound luxurious to some, but to wake up in the mountains and to finish a walk feeling a great sense of accomplishments - totally worth it.
We spent the night by the fire fully drying our gloves this time and playing cards. The fire was red hot tonight, and wonderful.
Tomorrow was to be an early day. The DOC time for the last leg of this track is 6.5 hours. We had to plan for at least 8. We did today's hike in 4 hours, just 1.5 hours shy of the estimated time. Maybe we're getting better at this. :)
DAY THREE - Pouakai Hut to Kaiauai Car Park.
The night brought forth many storm patterns. Sometimes sound can be deceiving. You walk on a cliff near a waterway, and it might sound fierce. But by the time you step down beside it, it is nothing more than a babbling brook. You sit in a hut and the wind is pounding on the walls, sounding like it is being ripped apart. Then you step out onto the porch and it's only a light breeze blowing in the front.
But the wind was strong the night before. More snow came. Apparently this is not very common for the Pouakai Range, yet this is all we know. There is a pond up near the hut that provides a beautiful reflection of the Mountain on a clear day. I think it's called the tarns. Today - it was frozen over. We set out by 7.48am. Packed and warm. Such a nice change from the day before.
Today, another hike through the tundra. It started off with not really knowing which direction to go. There is a sign at the track junction that points roughly in the right direction, however it all looked the same. Rolling mountain tops of low grassy patches, blown snow, deep snow, rocks. The weather rolled in with a windy snow pattern. This is what people climbing Everest must go through - on a larger scale, but I have no other comparisson
In the distance, when the snow stops blowing, you could see a wooden pole. Route indicator. A direction.
We walk. Heal heavy down the descents to keep any slips to a minimum. You really have to focus on the ground around you for any signs of waterways. There are sometimes these slabs of wood pegged into the ground creating a gap where water flows through on a wet day. Even in the snow the water can be deep at these points. But you might not know its there until you step into it. You have to read the sides of the paths and estimate where the water might cross. Fun challenges. Once we reached the tarns and realized that there was a bigger body of frozen water, we had to be extra careful. Don't fall through the water. Who knows how deep it is. And there is a chance you might not be on the right track at this point.
The day was full of this. Crossing bridges and hidden waterways. Digging down into steep descents.
Henry's Peak. Our biggest ascent for the day. This part was hairy. Steep areas with super hard snow. It was almost impossible to dig your boots in on some points. But the snow was built up so high, that if you slipped, it could easily leave you down the hillside. We dug as much as we could. Not the easiest thing to do. Every time I hit what should be a step deep down in the snow, I would stub my poor toes. ouch. At least it would help Brent see where to step.
On our hands and knees. Sometimes the only safe option. At one point I was trying to dig up a climb and my pole made me slip down a wood plank. Hmmmm kind of looks like the railing of a ladder. No wonder it was so steep. Back on our hands and knees.
I was really happy when we reached the summit of Henry's peak. The climb was getting tiring and stressful. Every steep turn around a cliff would make me worry about Brent's climb. We try to climb one at a time and stay at the top until the other reaches the same level, but this track didn't offer room for two people to stand on certain ledges. So I had to keep a good ear out for any sounds of distress he may shout in my direction. Climbing blindly.
The payoff was well worth the struggle. Another amazing clear view of Mt. Taranaki - we are so lucky that we were finally on a track with a clear view.
From there, steep descents walking heal heavy back into sub alpine forest and eventually into the wet and muddy forest floors that we had grown accustomed to.
The cliff sides. I really could call this circuit one giant slip. I can't stress that enough. It's been a rough winter. Lots of rain and landslips. The cliff sides are either rocky or muddy. Muddy cliffsides = problems. When we began our approach to the river crossing, we found ourselves walking on a variety of grassy ledges. I again, don't like ledges. My concerns with the ledges in this park will soon be confirmed. You try to sneak a peak at the river you hear below, but the tree canopy is too thick. The tree canopy which seems to continue underneath of the ledge you are walking on. Strange.
We had lunch at the Kaiauai shelter, which has been built to shelter people from the elements when the river is too rough to cross. For some reason they seem to think this is the only river crossing on this trip that is a concern. It might have been the easier one. It's big, but easier.
A rock/root climb straight down brings you by the river. And by the river, you get your first glimpse of a ledge you were just following.
A landslip. Over the rockbed of the river. Trees, rocks, mud, grass. Fallen after being eroded by the weather in the area. I take a picture. Camera happy - what can I say. Then I take notice of something in the tree. An orange route marker. On a tree that is now on the rockbed. Not on the track. Well, beside the part of the track that has also fallen - but you get my drift. Not where it should be.
Incredible.
From this point forward, every step on a ledge makes me numb. It's the same with every ledge you see in the distance. Mud eroding underneath of pathways. It's only a matter of time.
At the end of this part of the track, we see a sign. DANGER. The track is 'rough' and you must account for more time. Hmmm - would have been nice to know that before doing this part of the track. But why would they put a sign coming from the other direction?
Hmmmm - maybe it too was now on the rockbed. Slipped off the cliff.
I'll give the DOC the benefit of the doubt. The cliff took away the sign.
It was river crossing after river crossing from this point on until we finally reached the swingbridge over the Waiwhakaiho river. Not for the faint of heart. Load restriction of one person - do not exceed - a sign informs us. Um, is that one person sans backpack?
And my gaiters, which often unclip from my stinking boots, did not protect me on the last river crossing before the swingbridge. Water came rushing up into my boot. Better a wet foot then falling into a deep pool of water and rock. Thank goodness for the warmth of merino wool.
We end on an ascent to the carpark. Then, Huntington. Sir Huntington III. Unreliable car, but our oasis at the end of a tramp.
Brent made us some kool-aid at the car. It's the first hike where we drank both liters of water (longest single day hike with full packs on to date). The dromedary, a 4L water supply unit that Brent carries on his pack, is a wonderful water source. However, the aftertaste it provides in your water is far less then pleasant. Rubbery, plasticky. I don't know what it is. But kool-aid powder definitely kills the taste. :)
Amen!
We packed up the car. Shed our wet gear and climbed into dry pants and were on our way back to the visitor centre. This time, we drove up the windy road.
We signed out at the DOC at 5.03pm. Three minutes after our expected return on our intentions form. :) Not too shabby.
Back to civilization. The drive through the farmlands once again. This time, we were able to see the mountain range we just climbed along with Taranaki. And also - we caught a glimpse of the mountains to the east, that make up Tongariro national park. Beautiful. Couldn't have asked for better weather on this tramp. Maybe less hail/snow on the first day - but all in all, it was wonderful.
Signed back into the seaspray, dropped off our stuff and headed out to Burger Fuel for a necessary high calorie meal. Amazing burgers. Burgers seems to be a favorite for us after a big tramp. It's good to replenish your tummy. Burger Fuel did not disappoint. It was created here in New Plymouth and offers the Doofer, a cardboard contraption that helps burger eaters hold their bugers in place without losing their toppings.
Delicious.
Back to the hostel where we bumped into Janine, the other host and we shared stories about our hike. Funny enough, there were a LOT of people at the hostel that night. A couple from Germany was really interested in our story as they too wanted to do the circuit we just came from. They were also going to start on Sunday - but were told not to come up to the mountain it was too dangerous. Different story from what we got on the mountain.
And another wonderful surprise, Janine made cake that night and offered each of us a piece. You can't turn down cake.
It was soooooo good.
All this followed by hot hot showers and about 12 hours of sleep.
Huntington. Sick no more? We'll see. He went in for his operation and physical yesterday. Turns out brake pads were low - replace. Put in that stupid 266$ part that should fix the speedo's sensor. After just about a 650$ medical bill, we drove off to hopefully enjoy a healthy vehicle. He hiccuped. DAMN IT! We still don't know what this means. In low gear he acts funny, but with the speedo fixed, maybe he'll stop stalling and things will go smoother.
Time will tell.
Last night - we made a lasagna bake/casserole. Delicious. First time we bought cheese. Nice and hearty. We're starting to eat like kings.
Laundry. First time. Much needed. This is how we spend our days.
Today - we get ready for the 6 day tramp around the mountain and go see a movie. Because their movie food combos are AMAZING - you get popcorn, soda and DOUBLE SCOOP ICE CREAM CONES!!!! Canada really should take notice of these novelties.
TRACK NOTES.
Calorie intake surprise. We feel well fed on the tracks that we do. We recently bought these bars (as close to cliff bars that we could find) from the Warehouse. Energy bars. We call them breakfast. :) There are the flavourful ones and then the ones called "One Square Meal". Both of which are hearty and offer us just under 400calories for a meal. We then snack on mother earth granola bars - apricot w/chocolate drizzle for morning snack, followed by our lovely crackers and cheese lunch, then a mother earth oaty bar for an afternoon snack (heartier granola) followed by scroggin and a backcountry meal. Now, to our surprise the backcountry meal only offers about 360 calories per serving (serves 2). So, technically, we are only getting about 1000 calories a day with our food. Which surprised us a lot once we calculated everything. We feel good up in the mountain. I usually get hungry first. We drink a lot now - so that controls when we get tired/hungry.
It's just strange.
That's why we binge when we get off the tramps. Followed by 're-fuel' days - where we spend 2-3 days eating 3 square meals a day. Well, sometimes we still have crackers and cheese for lunch - cause it's easier to carry around.
Patches. What we carry on our bags. I have two patches on my bag. The Canadian Flag and a patch Brent found in Kensington market that says "Claude". Amazing. Someone might think my name is Claude - but its an homage to our third musketeer.
Our Hiking routines- we stop up to 3 times to eat on the trail. Sometimes only removing our packs for lunch. We pack our snacks in our upper pack pocket or our gortex jacket pocket. We break by leaning on our poles and taking a minute to breathe and stretch out our arms. It's a whole routine to put your packs back on, so we try not to take them off unless we need to give our backs a break (or unless its lunch time). We're already travelling behind the DOC timing, so any extra help to make the track in daylight we can get is welcome.
Our unreliable poles. It's actually quite funny how often our trecking poles collapse on us. You could be walking and push down on one side and suddenly stumble because your pole's jumped up 10inches. It's great when you spend so much time relying on these silly things. At any point where you hoist yourself up a sharp step, they could fail on you. The best is when we take breaks and either lean our foreheads or cheeks on the poles and they suddenly drop down. Someone's going to face plant. And yes, we have to find amusement it in the situation or we'll just get frustrated.
It was fun watching the snow balls forming on this track. Walking down the hill sides, every time you kicked snow forward it would race you down the hill building itself up as it went along.
This is the first track with a view from the summits.
We did not see Mt. Taranaki's summit the entire day we were hiking on it.
This is the fourth track we cross that requires climbing/ducking below at least one newly fallen tree.
There are stoat traps along the tracks to kill pests that are eating the flightless native birds. On this trip, we tapped every box to see if there was movement in them as we passed them day to day. We had no idea they were traps meant to kill until we came across a few with dead animals in them. Yuck. On this track, we saw 3 dead rats and one dead weasel in the stoat traps.
Gas is now down to 197.9
This trip is amazing. :)
The snow shifted below my right foot. My left foot dislodged. I was going down. I spread myself out as wide as possible and leaned into the snow. That wasn't slowing me down. My eye was focused on the rock 15 feet below. Praying that I would stop at that point.
I still didn't know if it was the cliff's edge or simply a rock held on the mountain by the snowfall. All I know is I wasn't slowing down.
DAY ONE - North Egmont Visitor Centre to Holly Hut
We never expected to hike in the snow. I don't think people at the DOC expected us to have to hike in the snow either. This winter has been strange. The weather is wetter then ever (this following an extremely dry summer), and there is snow in places that the kiwis don't expect. It's rather amusing when you speak to New Zealanders about snow. Brent's convinced they are afraid of snow. The near mention of a sprinkling of snow on a mountain top and the people we encounter urge us to reconsider hikes.
A sprinkling of snow?
We set out early for Egmont National Park. To this day, we had yet to see the summit of Mt. Taranaki. The weather pattern on this part of the island is almost controlled by this mountain. The land jets out into the ocean, with the centre of the land being this giant mountain. The weather can change at a moment's notice. The weather is moving towards the park in every direction all the time. You can watch the storms rolling in from the Pouakai range. From the city, if it's cloudy, you can only imagine.
We left the seaspray house around 8am. Huntington only stalled twice on our way there (yay?). The drive out was quiet. It was Sunday, August 17th. It was a terrible day. It was rainy and very cloudy. We enjoyed the deserted drive out through the farmlands. Painting our own idea of what the mountain must look like behind the clouds. We knew how tall it was, but had no reference. We still hadn't seen the Tongariro national park mountains either. These four mountains (incl Taranaki) being the tallest of the North Island.
We parked our car at the Kaiauai Car Park and set out our packs for an approx 2km hike up the windy road to the visitor centre. This would help shorten our treck at the end of our hike on the Tuesday, meeting our car earlier then the centre. Today, it was hailing. Lots of hail. Little tiny hail balls, but lots of it. Quite frankly, it didn't bother me - I liked it better then the rain we had been getting. At least, so far, it was less wet. :)
The road was covered in slush. The last part of our drive was slower due to the cover. It was the first time we saw any part of a real winter. We were hailed on in the Puerora Forest Park one day and then again in New Plymouth on our first morning, but we had never seen a permanent residue on the ground. It was slick to walk on. The roads were so windy and steep. You had to focus all your energy on staying upright and steady with your pace.
Road closed.
Literally, the road was locked up. I don't know who locks the roads, but someone had come by and bolted it shut. It's not even something you can walk around. They make sure the gate blocks everyone. So we climbed through it. :) Awkwardly, cause we had our packs on and at this point didn't want to be taking them off to set into the wet slush. Brent hoisted himself over the bars and I somehow squeezed my way through the vertical bar. I have no concept of how wide I am with this pack, but the pack more then doubles my width.
We continued. Cars started to pass us by driving slowly down the hills. Waving to us as they passed. Climbing comraderie. Their cars were covered in snow. A look at things to come?
I can't explain how it feels when you spend 6 hours hiking in forest and then the path opens up and you can see the road. At the end of a hike, it's the most wonderful thing - because road = car = finish line. It was almost the same thing this morning with the road winding so much, it was a tough start to our day. A steep start. The moment the road finally opened up and a sign posted the Visitor's Centre - it was a joyous moment. :) With the road being closed down below however, we didn't know if that meant that the visitor centre would be closed.
Thank you God.
Open.
We still hadn't purchased the maps - because we wanted to speak to the DOC people at the centre prior to hiking out. Motivation to purchase our maps at the centre as well.
The woman working on Sunday was fantastic. Probably the best DOC personel we have encountered to date. Very informative - which is exactly what you need. We walked over to the 3D model of the park and showed our route to the woman. We spoke of the snow - which was unusually low for them. The snow was down the 700m. We were literally standing in a good amount of snow at the centre itself. It was only to get deeper higher in altitude. The was an avalanche warning on the south side of the mountain, due to the amount of snow they had received over the last day. A huge dumping. You never know how the mountain will treat it. The snow melts quickly off the plants in the sun, and could shift and melt just as much on the mountainside. Winter items they suggest for hikers are crampons (ice picks for your shoes), and lots of experience. We weren't hiking to the summit, and we don't know how to use crampons or an ice pick - so we did not carry these items. We spoke to the woman about our options. She didn't know how the snow was on the north side as it had just been freshly coated with another layer.
"You should be fine, but if you hit an area you aren't too sure about, just come back down this way and head towards the Maketawa Hut (part of the lower around the mountain circuit)". Good idea. We now had a back up plan.
Brent and I discussed our options. The weather was supposed to clear, so hiking the first chunk of the track to Holly Hut could be better tomorrow. But it could also be worse. We were expecting more snow and hail today. We decided to just stick to our original plan and track to Holly Hut, which meant our first day would be in deep snow. Knee deep at least. Could be interesting.
We filled out our intentions form and left it with the DOC. An intentions form should be filled out with every over night hiking a tramper does. You list your name and everyone in your party, all the gear you are bringing (they have a check off list of important gear that the search & rescue teams are interested to know if you carry - mountain radio, cell phone, first aid gear, winter clothes, extra clothes, extra food, etc.), any medical conditions of any party members, special medicine that you are carrying, emergency contact information, your entire route plan & back up plan, where your car is (if you have one), etc. All this is used to find you if you get lost or do not return. You fill out your expected return (date/time). The form is kept in a binder on the date of your expected return. If the DOC does not hear from you on the day of your expected return, they give you a day. If you still have not signed out with a person during office hours or in the sign out book (just outside the centre) within 24hours, they start looking for your car, calling your mobile, calling your emergency contact (to see if there has been communication), go to the huts to see if we signed in/out of each one we intended to walk through (in a hut intentions book - found at each hut - you must indicate your next planned hike/destination, as it helps with search and rescues in the event that you go missing), and follow all the signs/information left behind by the missing party. It's a pretty intense system - but it's there to save your life if something goes wrong. On the mountain tracks, they don't mess around.
Side note - we had a great conversation with the DOC woman about the timings of the tracks. We asked about their accuracy, since our hiking times seem to always be about 2hrs longer then what is indicated on the track information or the markers on the actual tracks. We all agree - super tall men are timing these tracks carrying a daypack. This does not help the wee folks who are carrying full packs. You would think that a tramping track would be timed for the average tramper - but I really don't get that feeling. Some of the acents are steep and the steps are difficult (through tree roots or up rocks). If you were tall - it would be a breeze. But we're hoisting ourselves with our poles and you expend A LOT of energy. It was hilarious, she had a meeting coming up on the Monday, and she said she would bring it up for discussion. The DOC is going to be recalculating all their tracks this coming summer to revisit the timings. Erosion of the land plays a big part in the extention of the times - the tracks haven't been timed out in a long time.
We start our longest tramp thus far. Two nights, three days, and our first circuit (so we don't have to come back on any of our tracks).
It starts with a long climb up with stairs. STAIRS. There are stairs and ladders and bridges all over the parks. You never know when they are going to pop up, and sometimes you wonder how certain areas get them while others don't. The simple humps have a ladder, while you're literally rock climbing through mud to scale another elevation. It's amusing. But to start off with stairs is rough. All tracks with an immediate ascent to this degree seems to drain your energy at the start. You just spent three days relaxing from all the hiking and you start out hard core. We passed by two boys who asked us if we were going to climb the mountain. I smiled. I told them it was not safe to climb the mountain because of all the snow. (which is true) Other people walking down the stairs, simply enjoying the snow wished us luck as we walked by. We were the only ones on the mountain that day with our gear. It was obvious what we were doing.
It was a nice hike. We were climbing through sub alpine forest, so we were above the shrub levels a lot, allowing us to overlook the farmlands below. Not much about the mountain, that was still clouded over. The views were nice. It made our mini breaks enjoyable.
Walking on snow. This track had no markers. You just followed what you thought was the track. Pretty obvious most of the time, as it was either this narrow path of snow or the sheer drop off the cliff. Easy decision. Stay on snow. The only thing that kept us going was knowing there was a track somehwere below our feet. At points, the track was 4-5 feet below our feet. We stood up high on the track. The snow was thick in parts and you skirted around the tops of the alpine trees, which really should be drapping over your head. It made some parts of the track difficult. You were competing for the track space with these thick trees that could just as easily pushed your footing to the side and have you step into oblivion, and stumble down the side to some shrubs below.
I hated the parts where there wasn't shrub below. I would call out to Brent to hug the cliff side as much as possible. It was shrubs to your left, and a drop to your right. Sometimes too far. We were cautious with every step, fully respecting the situation we were in. We had never done this type of snow hiking. The path was unknown to us. There were no footsteps to follow. We were the ones creating the path. Every step would be stomped deep into the snow as deep as we could go. Sometimes you skirted overtop the hard surface, then the next step your entire leg would be swallowed up by the snow. It was unpredictable and challenging. Tiring. It was an estimated 4-5 hour hike to the hut. With snow, we didn't know how much longer that would take us.
There was a boulder at the top of a cliff that stopped us to think for a bit. We had to hug our bodies to this bolder to access the track, but the rest of the track seemed fine. In the summer, this part might not even look challenging. Maybe it was an easy part, but you had no idea what the snow was hiding. There were rocks along the edge, but they dropped down. Sometimes you wonder if the rocks were only there because the snow encased them.
I like leading the tramps we do. I probe all the situations before making a decision and forging the track that Brent eventually follows. I'd much rather be the one to slip, then to watch him slip. I probed every snow patch I could find with my pole and then just went for it. Safe. Nothing to blink at. After making a crossing I spend a minute explaining to Brent what I did so that he knows what to look out for. I inform him of any concerns of a footing I might have taken. The system works well for us.
We were getting closer to the mountain, deeper into snow. It was beautiful. It was daunting. This mountain is intense. The clouds moved in and out all the time. Hail one minute, snow the next, then a beautiful crisp sunny view of the world below.
A surprise. When we stopped for lunch at a track junction. We were about to pull out the usual crackers and cheese delight. Brent reaches into his bag to take out his portion when he pulls out peanut butter & jam sandwiches. We totally forgot we made these in the morning. And I know that might not sound exciting for anyone reading this, but we expend a LOT of energy on these hikes, and this was like a gourmet meal for us. Wonderful!!!
The valleys. Every time we hit an area that would be a potential path of an avalanche we spent a moment thinking about our route before booting it across. Only because there was a warning on the south side. We took the extra caution. The valleys and slips take you down snowy drops or force you to cross steep slips that on a summer day are areas where rock and sand lay barely gripping the side of the mountain. Difficult terrain in the summer. Maybe it is easier in the winter. This track might just take longer because of the snow, but in the end, the snow might help make the track easier to dig yourself into.
We dropped down snowy valleys and then hiked back up on our hands and knees. If you got too hot, just kneel into the snow. It was a benefit we had today. On our second valley crossing, we crossed paths with the first hikers we had ever seen in the same park as us. Actually, they weren't even hikers. They were runners. With long johns and shorts, running shoes with NO socks, standing in deep snow. They were coming from another track. We spoke about the slips the other would encounter to share information and we were on our way. This time with a guide of foot prints to follow. Which helped at some parts. It was a nice change.
The Boomerang slip.
The danger sign is posted on each side. One person cross at a time. In the summer, this slip could hurt. If you cross and dislodge a rock and someone else rushed behind you, it could be so dangerous (hence why its one person at a time). Brent and I made our way to the edge of the thick rock patches on the slip and then I stepped out into oblivion. Every step leaning into the mountain, keeping my body as low as possible. This thing was steep. You had to cross over and up. Again, the snow was sometimes hard and sometimes you would bury your leg. You didn't want this inconsistency on the slip, cause that could lead you to slip further down the mountain. There were rocks 20-25 feet down the slip, but they could be the cliff's edge. You didn't know from this angle. I dug out our track, which was tiring. It meant that I would spend a longer amount of time on the slip. Trying to ensure that a solid ground would be available for Brent to follow. His pack is heavier then mine and top/back heavy due to the tent sitting above and extra water supply sitting on his back (proportionately - we still don't know who is carrying the most weight for their body size though). Forging a track is the least I can do.
Funny enough, the boomerang slip was the easiest slip to cross. Maybe that's because on an earlier one I did start to slide down the cliff. Your heart starts to race because you don't know if you will pick up speed or slow down. You can only pray that spreading yourself wide enough will allow you to slow down or help with grasping onto a rock before tumbling over. This slip was just long. It was the widest one to cross. In the summer months, this slip must be wicked challenging.
The rest of the day's track was similar. Up and down the snow valleys until we started to move towards to the Pouakai range, and further away from the snowy rock face and more towards snowy alpine forest once again. There were many ups and downs as we made our way to the hut. Passing animal footprints in the fresh snow as we hiked along. I took a picture of every bird footprint I could find. This is a kiwi zone, and you never know. (we're currently comparing them with one of our hostel's hosts' pictures - as she knows someone who has photographed kiwi footprings and the DOC is very interested in knowing about kiwi sightings in any form) Passing stoat traps every 100m. Walking across icy bridges with or without railings.
There was a map rescue at one point. Brent accidentally dropped the map (encased in a waterproof map holder) after crossing a bridge. It sat there dangling on the edge of the snowy ledge, hanging just over the stream down below. I quickly took off my pack and made my way very cautiously to the edge probing the snow as I advanced to the map. We needed that thing. Your topographic map helps to really place you in the park and helps with reading the track. We could follow the track without the map, but it would be walking into the unknown. I was just waiting for my weight to shift the snow and have the map and myself fall down the 8 feet into the stream.
That would have sucked.
This track was great - as we imagine most mountain tracks might be. You can see the track ahead of you so clearly laid out in the mountain side. It was a bonus on this trip. You turned a corner and across a valley, could see what you would be spending the next 20mins walking. We spotted the outhouses to the hut before we could see the hut. But what a wonderful sight it is. Hope of the end and possibly a warm fire. It was a steady descent followed by a river crossing and muddy ascent to the hut. We were clean and snowy all day. To end on a wet muddy note was unfortunate.
The hut. Holly Hut. Nestled in the alpine forest of Mt. Taranaki across from the Pouakai Range. This hut had lights!!! Solar powered lights that worked once it was dark enough outside.
Brent's view on huts - things get better with every hut we get to. The first hike, we didn't make the hut. Camped in the tent. The second hut we attempted, we spent the glorious night at the luxurious Bog Inn. This third hut attempt brought us here - with more bunks (I think it sleeps 32 - which by the way is creepy when it's just two of you), lights, running water and yes - rats. The mattresses were torn to shreads, probably being used as warm homes at night for the mountain dwellers. The green foam from inside the mats was everywhere. The kitchen was littered in rat feces and urine. This was beginning to be really discouraging. We both went to work. Brent started to make kindling for a fire. I started to clean up an area for us to sleep on by removing rat droppings and clearing off areas to place our things. Reviewing the hut intentions book (which also includes a comments section) you could see the rat problem was long standing. No matter, we just wanted to make the fire and get dinner going. Two things which would be firsts for us.
I placed a wood block right by the fire where there was a giant hole in a locked doorway. Looks like rats had chewed their way through here. Yuck.
45 matches. That's how many it took to start the fire. Yup. The kindling wouldn't light, we had no paper to use (we tried some newspaper I found near a rat's nest, but it had been made unusable by the previous four legged owners), the wood they supply at the huts are basically 2x4 wood blocks cut up into smaller blocks - so really difficult to use as fire wood (and you're luck if you get to a hut with an actual ax!!!). Brent tried for a while, and then I took over (I think he was getting frustrated). It was nearly impossible, until we found a book, which sadly had some pages sacrificed for the sake of warmth and heat. We tried to only use the pages with no writing on it, the advertisements, maybe the foreward...oh poor book. But we were soaked. The winter walk had dampened all our base layers and our gloves had to be wrung out.
Once I had the fire going, with Brent chopping away at the wood (bringing forth a narly blister on his hand) to ensure more fuel to feed the start of the fire (you're supposed to use coal to keep the fire going - something I know nothing about - but we tried. Learning how to feed coal to a wood fire), we were set. Brent started to pluck away at the stove - which we haver never used before - while I sat and watched the fire.
Squeek. Squeek.
Ugh, seriously?
The wood block was nudged. I looked over. Again. Slowly being pushed towards me.
You've got to be kidding me.
I kicked the wood block so hard into that door. This was followed by me building a giant wooden blockade to keep that stupid rat out. We have since found out that these rats are afraid of nothing. People have mentioned these rats biting through the boots of people who have tried to kick them away. They are relentless. Afraid of no people, will walk into a fully lit hut. They don't care. I was sooooo not having this tonight.
We clipped all the food we had in the rafter hanging near the stove. We hung everything, and slept with our packs between the wall and our bodies. Our gear would not be their next dinner. These rats are destructive.
Dinner was nice. Once the stove was figured out. This thing shot huge flames into the air on Brent's first few attempts. But we finally got it working right and boiling water was minutes away. Tonight's meal - the always talked about Zucchini lasagna. Mmmm.
It was nice to eat a hot meal. It was soupy - which happens when you follow the water directions listed on the bag - but it was a hot meal and delicious. Add 2 cups of boiling water, zip up pouch, wait 10minutes, voila - backcountry cuisine. Add a bit of our homemade scroggin' for desert, and life is wonderful.
Our scroggin - dried papaya with lime, dried pineapple, dried apple rings, dried apricots, raisins (or sultanas), salty peanuts (to help rebuild electrolytes), chocolate buttons, yogurt buttons, yogurt covered raisins and sunflower seeds. Yummy.
We spent the night by the fire trying to dry off our gloves and keep warm. Cleaned up any food scraps and went to bed.
Soon after making our way into the chosen loft bunk, mr. rat made a return to the door to try and gnaw away at my wooden blockade. To be able to sleep that night, I had to reinforce the stupid thing with another layer of wood and the coal's iron shovel to ensure that we would not be bothered through the night.
I then built a little blockade at the base of the door of our room.
And trust me, I slept that night. Peacefully. :)
DAY TWO - Holly Hut to Pouakai Hut
Morning came. Crisp day. Looking out the hut you could clearly see the Pouakai Range with a fresh coating of snow. It looked amazing. It snowed overnight. It was chilly. Boots were damp, gloves - sadly, still very wet and now cold. On the agenda - clean hut, make water, pack out.
I walked out towards the outhouses to take a picture of a sign that I saw the day before. Brent stayed back at the hut and stood on the porch, probably enjoying the clear day and view of the Pouakai range. I turned back to look at the hut.
(whistle) She's a beauty.
Brent thought I was talking about the hut. Yeah, no.
With a backcountry hut pass - which costs only 90$/year, we were able to stay at the Holly Hut, which sits in the mountain range. And on a clear day, has a gorgeous view of Mt. Taranaki that people would pay a pretty penny for.
Waking up in the mountains. It was the first time either of us had seen the summit. Not a cloud in the sky trying to hug the mountain top. It was beautiful, perfect morning light. A great motivation for the day.
We should have made water the night before, but we had a short hiking day today. The first day was about 6-6.5 hours for us. Today was supposed to only be 2.5 hours, so we expected no more then 5hours. The running water at this hut was hidden behind frozen pipes. The only saving grace was a dribbling tap outside the hut which you couldn't increase the flow to. It took time, but we got through making the five passings of water, er six, I accidentally spilled a bottle full.
The hike was cold to start off. Our gear had not dried out yet. Our gloves were soaked. Try to convince your fingers to go into soaking gloves when you can't even feel your fingers to begin with. Same with our toes - it took me hours to feel them again. The only downfall to winter hiking. Even with the right clothes, it's never enough.
The start of the hike was easier today. A steady descent through to a wetland area. We crossed the wetland on flooded boardwalks, over a bridge to start our way up the Pouakai Range. In the wetland, you were surrounded by mountains. It was that perfect moment I dream of. We took a video - unfortunately the weather had moved in and it was quite cloudy. Still beautiful.
We would spend the next few hours crossing over the range to the Pouakai Hut. Up and down all day. Sometimes guided by stairways, but usually on our own track. Through deep snow once again. The mountain would clear every once and a while to encourage us with a stunning view. Exhausted by an ascent, you couldn't argue why you were in NZ doing this hike when you would see the mountain.
We rounded the Hump (a peak in the range) and ended up in a tundra like area. Low grassy patches and deep snow. No route markers. I felt like I was in Nunavet back home. The hope was Brent spotting the hut down the range. We were beginning to like this ability to see ahead. It truly was helpful.
We followed a rough set of footprints that suddenly appeared. Sometimes looking old, while other times looking very fresh. Was someone at the hut? We hurried down the range to the hut walking heal heavy down snowy descents and across small bridges. At that moment, it was crisp. The view of New Plymouth, the view of the range, the mountain was clouded over, but how wonderful was this hut. Another room with a view.
The Pouakai Hut. I would definitely stay here again. Rat free, clean. Wonderful!!! Every hut gets better. At least at Holly we were able to keep the rats at bay for the evening. :) Brent and I each looked through the hut intentions book to see if there was ever a mention of rats. Nothing.
The footprints we ended up following were fresh, however the person was only passing through. We read their intentions. Up and back. A lot of people from the area do that in this park. I bet its a quick hike sans pack.
This night was so much smoother. Fire was up and running in little time (despite the fact that there was no ax at this hut), we sorted our dinner plans, dishes and water purification to ensure an efficient evening. There were no lights at this hut (that really is a luxury), so we had to plan to get things done by early nightfall. Eventually you would be doing something in the dark, but you tried to keep it to a minimum.
Dinner - texas bbq chicken. Another soupy concoction. Rice, beans, freeze dried chicken, mesquite sauce. It was yummy. Routine sets in. Time to make water. Check the fire. Wash dishes. Check the fire. Clean up the area, clip food in the rafters, snack on scroggin, drink plenty of water. Check the fire. I have wanted this for years. This trip. The routine, might not sound luxurious to some, but to wake up in the mountains and to finish a walk feeling a great sense of accomplishments - totally worth it.
We spent the night by the fire fully drying our gloves this time and playing cards. The fire was red hot tonight, and wonderful.
Tomorrow was to be an early day. The DOC time for the last leg of this track is 6.5 hours. We had to plan for at least 8. We did today's hike in 4 hours, just 1.5 hours shy of the estimated time. Maybe we're getting better at this. :)
DAY THREE - Pouakai Hut to Kaiauai Car Park.
The night brought forth many storm patterns. Sometimes sound can be deceiving. You walk on a cliff near a waterway, and it might sound fierce. But by the time you step down beside it, it is nothing more than a babbling brook. You sit in a hut and the wind is pounding on the walls, sounding like it is being ripped apart. Then you step out onto the porch and it's only a light breeze blowing in the front.
But the wind was strong the night before. More snow came. Apparently this is not very common for the Pouakai Range, yet this is all we know. There is a pond up near the hut that provides a beautiful reflection of the Mountain on a clear day. I think it's called the tarns. Today - it was frozen over. We set out by 7.48am. Packed and warm. Such a nice change from the day before.
Today, another hike through the tundra. It started off with not really knowing which direction to go. There is a sign at the track junction that points roughly in the right direction, however it all looked the same. Rolling mountain tops of low grassy patches, blown snow, deep snow, rocks. The weather rolled in with a windy snow pattern. This is what people climbing Everest must go through - on a larger scale, but I have no other comparisson
In the distance, when the snow stops blowing, you could see a wooden pole. Route indicator. A direction.
We walk. Heal heavy down the descents to keep any slips to a minimum. You really have to focus on the ground around you for any signs of waterways. There are sometimes these slabs of wood pegged into the ground creating a gap where water flows through on a wet day. Even in the snow the water can be deep at these points. But you might not know its there until you step into it. You have to read the sides of the paths and estimate where the water might cross. Fun challenges. Once we reached the tarns and realized that there was a bigger body of frozen water, we had to be extra careful. Don't fall through the water. Who knows how deep it is. And there is a chance you might not be on the right track at this point.
The day was full of this. Crossing bridges and hidden waterways. Digging down into steep descents.
Henry's Peak. Our biggest ascent for the day. This part was hairy. Steep areas with super hard snow. It was almost impossible to dig your boots in on some points. But the snow was built up so high, that if you slipped, it could easily leave you down the hillside. We dug as much as we could. Not the easiest thing to do. Every time I hit what should be a step deep down in the snow, I would stub my poor toes. ouch. At least it would help Brent see where to step.
On our hands and knees. Sometimes the only safe option. At one point I was trying to dig up a climb and my pole made me slip down a wood plank. Hmmmm kind of looks like the railing of a ladder. No wonder it was so steep. Back on our hands and knees.
I was really happy when we reached the summit of Henry's peak. The climb was getting tiring and stressful. Every steep turn around a cliff would make me worry about Brent's climb. We try to climb one at a time and stay at the top until the other reaches the same level, but this track didn't offer room for two people to stand on certain ledges. So I had to keep a good ear out for any sounds of distress he may shout in my direction. Climbing blindly.
The payoff was well worth the struggle. Another amazing clear view of Mt. Taranaki - we are so lucky that we were finally on a track with a clear view.
From there, steep descents walking heal heavy back into sub alpine forest and eventually into the wet and muddy forest floors that we had grown accustomed to.
The cliff sides. I really could call this circuit one giant slip. I can't stress that enough. It's been a rough winter. Lots of rain and landslips. The cliff sides are either rocky or muddy. Muddy cliffsides = problems. When we began our approach to the river crossing, we found ourselves walking on a variety of grassy ledges. I again, don't like ledges. My concerns with the ledges in this park will soon be confirmed. You try to sneak a peak at the river you hear below, but the tree canopy is too thick. The tree canopy which seems to continue underneath of the ledge you are walking on. Strange.
We had lunch at the Kaiauai shelter, which has been built to shelter people from the elements when the river is too rough to cross. For some reason they seem to think this is the only river crossing on this trip that is a concern. It might have been the easier one. It's big, but easier.
A rock/root climb straight down brings you by the river. And by the river, you get your first glimpse of a ledge you were just following.
A landslip. Over the rockbed of the river. Trees, rocks, mud, grass. Fallen after being eroded by the weather in the area. I take a picture. Camera happy - what can I say. Then I take notice of something in the tree. An orange route marker. On a tree that is now on the rockbed. Not on the track. Well, beside the part of the track that has also fallen - but you get my drift. Not where it should be.
Incredible.
From this point forward, every step on a ledge makes me numb. It's the same with every ledge you see in the distance. Mud eroding underneath of pathways. It's only a matter of time.
At the end of this part of the track, we see a sign. DANGER. The track is 'rough' and you must account for more time. Hmmm - would have been nice to know that before doing this part of the track. But why would they put a sign coming from the other direction?
Hmmmm - maybe it too was now on the rockbed. Slipped off the cliff.
I'll give the DOC the benefit of the doubt. The cliff took away the sign.
It was river crossing after river crossing from this point on until we finally reached the swingbridge over the Waiwhakaiho river. Not for the faint of heart. Load restriction of one person - do not exceed - a sign informs us. Um, is that one person sans backpack?
And my gaiters, which often unclip from my stinking boots, did not protect me on the last river crossing before the swingbridge. Water came rushing up into my boot. Better a wet foot then falling into a deep pool of water and rock. Thank goodness for the warmth of merino wool.
We end on an ascent to the carpark. Then, Huntington. Sir Huntington III. Unreliable car, but our oasis at the end of a tramp.
Brent made us some kool-aid at the car. It's the first hike where we drank both liters of water (longest single day hike with full packs on to date). The dromedary, a 4L water supply unit that Brent carries on his pack, is a wonderful water source. However, the aftertaste it provides in your water is far less then pleasant. Rubbery, plasticky. I don't know what it is. But kool-aid powder definitely kills the taste. :)
Amen!
We packed up the car. Shed our wet gear and climbed into dry pants and were on our way back to the visitor centre. This time, we drove up the windy road.
We signed out at the DOC at 5.03pm. Three minutes after our expected return on our intentions form. :) Not too shabby.
Back to civilization. The drive through the farmlands once again. This time, we were able to see the mountain range we just climbed along with Taranaki. And also - we caught a glimpse of the mountains to the east, that make up Tongariro national park. Beautiful. Couldn't have asked for better weather on this tramp. Maybe less hail/snow on the first day - but all in all, it was wonderful.
Signed back into the seaspray, dropped off our stuff and headed out to Burger Fuel for a necessary high calorie meal. Amazing burgers. Burgers seems to be a favorite for us after a big tramp. It's good to replenish your tummy. Burger Fuel did not disappoint. It was created here in New Plymouth and offers the Doofer, a cardboard contraption that helps burger eaters hold their bugers in place without losing their toppings.
Delicious.
Back to the hostel where we bumped into Janine, the other host and we shared stories about our hike. Funny enough, there were a LOT of people at the hostel that night. A couple from Germany was really interested in our story as they too wanted to do the circuit we just came from. They were also going to start on Sunday - but were told not to come up to the mountain it was too dangerous. Different story from what we got on the mountain.
And another wonderful surprise, Janine made cake that night and offered each of us a piece. You can't turn down cake.
It was soooooo good.
All this followed by hot hot showers and about 12 hours of sleep.
Huntington. Sick no more? We'll see. He went in for his operation and physical yesterday. Turns out brake pads were low - replace. Put in that stupid 266$ part that should fix the speedo's sensor. After just about a 650$ medical bill, we drove off to hopefully enjoy a healthy vehicle. He hiccuped. DAMN IT! We still don't know what this means. In low gear he acts funny, but with the speedo fixed, maybe he'll stop stalling and things will go smoother.
Time will tell.
Last night - we made a lasagna bake/casserole. Delicious. First time we bought cheese. Nice and hearty. We're starting to eat like kings.
Laundry. First time. Much needed. This is how we spend our days.
Today - we get ready for the 6 day tramp around the mountain and go see a movie. Because their movie food combos are AMAZING - you get popcorn, soda and DOUBLE SCOOP ICE CREAM CONES!!!! Canada really should take notice of these novelties.
TRACK NOTES.
Calorie intake surprise. We feel well fed on the tracks that we do. We recently bought these bars (as close to cliff bars that we could find) from the Warehouse. Energy bars. We call them breakfast. :) There are the flavourful ones and then the ones called "One Square Meal". Both of which are hearty and offer us just under 400calories for a meal. We then snack on mother earth granola bars - apricot w/chocolate drizzle for morning snack, followed by our lovely crackers and cheese lunch, then a mother earth oaty bar for an afternoon snack (heartier granola) followed by scroggin and a backcountry meal. Now, to our surprise the backcountry meal only offers about 360 calories per serving (serves 2). So, technically, we are only getting about 1000 calories a day with our food. Which surprised us a lot once we calculated everything. We feel good up in the mountain. I usually get hungry first. We drink a lot now - so that controls when we get tired/hungry.
It's just strange.
That's why we binge when we get off the tramps. Followed by 're-fuel' days - where we spend 2-3 days eating 3 square meals a day. Well, sometimes we still have crackers and cheese for lunch - cause it's easier to carry around.
Patches. What we carry on our bags. I have two patches on my bag. The Canadian Flag and a patch Brent found in Kensington market that says "Claude". Amazing. Someone might think my name is Claude - but its an homage to our third musketeer.
Our Hiking routines- we stop up to 3 times to eat on the trail. Sometimes only removing our packs for lunch. We pack our snacks in our upper pack pocket or our gortex jacket pocket. We break by leaning on our poles and taking a minute to breathe and stretch out our arms. It's a whole routine to put your packs back on, so we try not to take them off unless we need to give our backs a break (or unless its lunch time). We're already travelling behind the DOC timing, so any extra help to make the track in daylight we can get is welcome.
Our unreliable poles. It's actually quite funny how often our trecking poles collapse on us. You could be walking and push down on one side and suddenly stumble because your pole's jumped up 10inches. It's great when you spend so much time relying on these silly things. At any point where you hoist yourself up a sharp step, they could fail on you. The best is when we take breaks and either lean our foreheads or cheeks on the poles and they suddenly drop down. Someone's going to face plant. And yes, we have to find amusement it in the situation or we'll just get frustrated.
It was fun watching the snow balls forming on this track. Walking down the hill sides, every time you kicked snow forward it would race you down the hill building itself up as it went along.
This is the first track with a view from the summits.
We did not see Mt. Taranaki's summit the entire day we were hiking on it.
This is the fourth track we cross that requires climbing/ducking below at least one newly fallen tree.
There are stoat traps along the tracks to kill pests that are eating the flightless native birds. On this trip, we tapped every box to see if there was movement in them as we passed them day to day. We had no idea they were traps meant to kill until we came across a few with dead animals in them. Yuck. On this track, we saw 3 dead rats and one dead weasel in the stoat traps.
Gas is now down to 197.9
This trip is amazing. :)
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