Te Aroroa – Part Two

Tongariro National Park and the Round the Mountain Track

Oh Tongariro.  There is so much to say and yet not enough can be said.  Here are some recollections of the last few days.

Staggering uphill.  Steep and sweaty for hours. Thick, gaseous steam venting out of the rocky scree. An extra layer of heat added to an already sweltering day.

Reaching the pass. Clogged with people, the doors of the four toilets make a sound like a bus door opening and closing. Mt Ngauruhoe dominates the skyline, it’s imposing pyramidal head covered in a coating of snow. It looks ancient.  Possessed of power. Indifferent to the insectisoid humans that traipse up and down its flanks.

An Emerald lake in name and character. Big, blue and bold. Foreign in an alien landscape, bereft of vegetation and seemingly diffident to animal habitation.

The Blue lake.  Small and perfect. The scale of Mt Ngauruhoe is immense here, its surface coated with a sheen of red over black as death skin. A crater, full of deep claret sludge boils under a foul, stinking breath. The mountain is alive. 

Down a slippery, steep scree slope and onto a burnt umber rocky plain.  A fire has ripped through here.  Signs of life are sparse.  Black of lava and brown cobblestones. The white, snow peaked cap of Mt Ruapehu softens this landscape. Makes it awe inspiring.

Traversing the plains, rocky, sandy topped. The creeks are bone dry. How can a desert exist up here?

An unexpected, secret forest.  See how lush and green!  Bird song, damp scent and a briskly flowing stream.

The following day starts magically.  A rainbow expanse across the grey sky dramatically pointing to the ever hulking presence of a mountain.

Creek walking through sandy, black soil, creeping closer and closer to the icy mountain. A valley strewn with rocks and intersected by a creek trickling through the arid plains. 

Walking up and over treeless mounds, and down again into deep chasms.  The chasms getting steeper and meaner the further you advance. Finally, the steepest and meanest of all the chasms.  A death defying, rocky, slippery slide of a climb down into the maw. A slow, steady, exertive climb back up to the top. Repeat again and again and again. 

A hut to take shelter from the increasingly snarling wind. Furious and cold it sounds as if it is trying to rip the building apart. Shrieking and howling and hammering and banging. An enormous plume of smoke in the distance and orange glow in the sky.

Rain lashing and thrashing in the sleeting wind. Plans changing and forming and refining and changing again as it pours and pours.  An easing off around 2pm.  Quick pack up and misty cold hike to the closest hut, where an exit plan awaits. 

A red hut with a green pop.  A bed under a window with an amazing view. Blue skies as far as the eye can see. 

A short walk to a carpark and a long road walk into town.  A bus to where we were supposed to be. And sadly, a parting of the ways.  An experiment that didn’t quite work out to plan.

But Tongariro.  You were amazing and humbling and I am sure to be back to complete the Round the Mountain track in its entirety one day.