This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
Murray Martin
blistering sun in a clear blue windless sky followed us up Ruapehu. We'd started the day from the Whakapapa Lodge at 7.30am and climbed most of the way in the delightfully cool morning shadows. As we climbed, the air grew colder, the day warmer and as we came into the sun, the temperature rose outside and in. Other than a few craggy bits of sheltered snow and the thin air, there was no real indication of what it could be like up there on a bad day, even though a cold storm had blown through only four days earlier. Reaching the crater edge at around.llam we’d lost Emma who had started to wilt, suffering the effects of dehydration. Erring on the side of safety, a good call was made to return to base along the beaten track and before the steeper climb set in. We learned later that Emma consumed a good 3 litres to fully recover and then continue the weekend with another group. Everyone was taking the time to consume large quantities of water and admire the terrific views out over the plains below. Lunch at the Dome Shelter was
a warm peaceful experience looking out over Crater Lake which sat in stolid, sulphurous silence, looking like milk that had gone off a few weeks before. The sky was cloudless, the views breathtaking. And then it happened... Amazingly, out of the blue, hordes of touristy types appeared from behind every rock and up through every rocky track. The chairlifts were doing a roaring trade and hurtling people up the mountain at an alarming rate. The slopes were transformed into a crawling mass of Kathmandu-clad adventurers all at the top to share the peaceful pleasures this amazing day brought. As we still had a way to go and the place was becoming crowded, we set off. Scampering around the rim of the mountain over Paretetaitonga toward Te Heu Heu we all agreed with Nick’s suggestion to plunge too far down the mountain in the mistaken hope of traversing around to head down the north-facing ridge. The ground under our feet was like a pile of loose sand crossed with ankle-deep crushed Weetbix — great to go down on, but horrific to go up. Unfortunately we were prevented from continuing our traverse by the top parts of Pinnacle Ridge. After an agonising crawl back up the mountain, all of maybe 300 vertical metres, we got back onto the top and tracked around to then drop off the mountain. It was hotter than hot and definitely time to descend. It was great when we got off the slopes of the mountain but coming down was hard on the legs and nerves. The scree and loose rock was rather eventful and made the going either fast or painfully slow. At the top, big steps lost height at a fantastic pace with patches of the mountainside accompanying you down. Lower down, the rocks got bigger and slow, careful picking between them saved us from damaged ankles. A flat rock at the base of the ridge provided us with a welcome celebratory rest stop before we left Ruapehu behind. We reached the gentle undulating slopes of the ridge at around 3.30pm and began a long hot gradual descent into the Australian outback. Or so it seemed. As I had visions of kangaroos jumping out from behind bushes or maybe the odd Crocodile Dundee type of bloke on horseback riding out in front of us, the conversation flowed and the legs started to feel the work put in over the day. A great feeling set in when hawk-eye Matt spotted the Round the Mountain Track that would lead us to the new Waihohonu Hut near the Ohinepango Springs. Waiter in our bottles and drinking systems was running very low. It was great to be on the marked tracks although the dust and grit was blowing around and getting into everything. Tumbleweed danced on the ground and vultures circled overhead as we crossed the prairie heading to the south-eastern corner of Mt Ngauruhoe. Time stood still, tongues stuck to the top of our mouths and conversation dried up. It was 6.30pm when the hut welcomed us with open arms along with a couple of dozen overseas tourists. While the hut looked full we found space to park our gear and get dinner on. Endless pans of water were boiled and impatiently consumed hot — the risk of giardia stealing away our dream of quenching our, thirst with gallons of cool water. Nick decided to bivvy outside. The warden appeared at dusk. He had been stewarding at the Tongariro Classic and was ready for a quick check on numbers, food and sleep rather than what he got — a hut full to the ceiling of every nationality known. For flush loos, we paid up and got some well-appreciated sleep. We were grateful for the extra hour afforded us by the end of daylight saving time, though we noticed some hardy souls getting up an hour earlier to compensate for such softness. Sunday was a cooler day and we headed along the track to Oturere Hut for extra water and a breather. Excellent tramping through a pocket of beech forest followed by rocky desert amidst a moonscape of spectacular volcanic rock formations. A stiff wind was blowing for most of the way up to Emerald Lake where we stopped for a colourful Japanese style round robin photo session: azure sky, yellow-orange rocks, turquoise lake and everyone’s multicoloured tramping gear done up against the wind. The wind picked up as we crossed the bottom of the Central Crater and up onto the ridge bordering the Central Crater. We nearly saw a repeat of Kirstie’s infamous flying tramper trick, but filling her rucksack up with rocks seemed to keep her feet on the ground. The severity of the gusts was short-lived and they completely disappeared as we descended toward Ketetahi Hut, looking north over a picturesque Lake Taupo in perfect late morning sun, with what appeared to be Mt Tarawera clearly in silhouette beyond. Arriving at the hut we met up again with the Easy party just finishing breakfast or so it appeared. Emma was there too, fully rehydrated and with a story of the weekend to tell. Lunch was accompanied by the first of the day’s Tongariro Crossing day trampers and runners passing through. Down and out via Ketetahi track to a very timely bus. Some dozing and much eating accompanied us as we nursed our tired muscles along the way on a swift return journey to Wellington (thanks once again to Wayne our driver).
The team: Nick Wood, Murray Martin, Matt Pinkerton, Nola Urquhart, Kirstie Macdonald, Emma Barrack.
Pa eee et se
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Trip Reports