First a note: It is jarring, to say the least, to go from the Tongariro National Park, the alpine crossing, and the summit of Mt. Ngauruhoe yesterday, to the New Zealand capital of Wellington and Parliament today. If anything, the near juxtaposition of these two areas -- a NZ San Franciscan windy Wellington and an awe-some park of craters, blue and emerald lakes, and volcanoes -- is a testament to the beauty of this land. And the lactic acid buildup in my limbs and bruises are the only things today that make it seem like more than just a dream. By far, the Tongariro Alpine Crossing and summit were the highpoint of my trip, and I would highly recommend anyone traveling to New Zealand to be sure to do the Crossing before anything else. The 19.4-km Crossing is a medium-level difficulty hike that is incredibly easy to complete in the allotted eight hours the shuttle operators give you. A map and basic trip guide shows that the max altitude is about 2,200 meters, with about half that gain during the entire trek. Because the trip is not a loop, shuttle buses drop hikers off at one parking lot and pick them up at another, usually about eight hours later for the simple fee of about $28 NZ.
Without further ado, here is my trip report:
Nov. 7, 2010: Tongariro Alpine Crossing and Mt. Ngauruhoe summit
Time completed: 8:10 a.m. to 3:57 p.m.Roughly eight hours, including multiple stops -- lunch on the summit, snack at the Red Crater, and English tea at the Blue Lake.
Weather: sunny and about 15 to 17 degrees Celsius with freezing temps at 1,600 meters and winds.
The night before the hike I prepared my pack, which was essentially just a small peak bag I'd brought along for short day hikes while on my trip. It lacked waist straps and was a lot smaller than what I would have preferred for such a hike, but I made do. I prepped a lot of food and snacks such as peanut butter and jelly, my favorite peanut m&ms, chicken sandwiches, trail mix, granola bars, and apples. I was very excited, but a little worried about the lingering chest/head cold that I couldn't get rid of. My dorm mates seemed intent on stretching out the night, but I managed to get the lights out by about 11:30 p.m., with a 6:20 a.m. wake-up. Everything was ready to go, and I had breakfasted and was all set by the shuttle's 7:15 a.m. pickup. It took an annoyingly long amount of time to get to the trailhead, only about 18 km away. We arrived there at 8 a.m. Our bus was full, with about 50 people, and multiple other shuttles had passed us on the way out from the parking lot. The weather had been terrible for the last couple days, and trips had been canceled, with strong winds and snow. We were blessed with a beautiful sunny day, and everyone had turned out. The driver gave us some last minute words on the trip -- mainly that the bus would leave at 4 p.m. -- and a business card in case (whatever). There are two summits on the trip, Tongariro and Ngauruhoe, both active volcanoes, but Ngauruhoe is higher by far, and also the famed "Mt. Doom" used in the "Lord of the Rings" film. I had some questions on timing, especially because the extra hour I'd hoped to have was nonexistent.
"Is anyone summiting Mt. Ngauruhoe?" the driver asked our bus.
I was sitting up front ready to go, and raised my hand a bit timidly. He scanned the bus, in his baseball cap, sunglasses, a tee-shirt, hoodie, and short shorts. He had a handlebar mustache, and a smug smile.
"Just one?" he sorta stated. "If you're fit, you should have enough time. If you're fit, you should be at the base of Ngauruhoe by 9:30 a.m., and the summit will take about one hour. When you get there, you'll see the ridgeline, the closer you are, the easier it will be. Volcanic scree, it's one step forward and two steps back. And then about 30 minutes descent."
He motioned to his thighs. "Up to here, then just slide. Some people run down. If you're fit, you should have enough time. I do both summits in that time," he smirked.
Then we were off. Of all the people on the bus, three people asked me to take photos of them at the entrance to the trail. By the time I got going it was about 8:15 a.m. I went hard trying to make up time. The start of the trail gives you nice views of Mt. N-hoe (as it shall be known henceforth) and the saddle between it and Mt. Tongariro. It's about 20 minutes to Soda Springs, which are these beautiful orange-tinged (you guessed it) springs, and then it's another 20 minutes or so til the "Devil's Staircase." This section takes another 20 minutes or so, and is easy to underestimate. After all, they add stairs, in sets of about 10, with regular trail in between at a slight incline. You twist and turn through the uphill area, and whenever you think the stairs will stop, they continue. It's a slow burn up hill. And after another 10 minutes or so you're at the end of the staircase and at the saddle where you receive instructions on what to do in case the volcanoes begin to erupt (and how to tell they're erupting), as well as instructions on not to breathe in the toxic gases flowing out of them. All good things. A lot of the trail is above tree line in alpine conditions, and it sort of feels like you're on the moon. This also means, however, that there are only a couple official bathroom stops, and almost no cover if you do not take those stops (and are female). I skipped the first stop on the way up to the saddle, and did not regret it once I saw the line stretch on. I was at the base of Mt. N-hoe at 9:25 a.m. and took some photos before starting the next leg of the journey. For most of the trip thus far there had been a near ant-line of people, but not once I turned for the mountain. It was empty before me. I saw two sticks marking a semi-trail ahead, with only a couple boot marks showing the area had been tramped before. I have to say it was a little intimidating, staring at the mountain and seeing not a soul ahead of me. I am going to climb that, I told myself. Wow. Cough cough, splatter, phlegm, mucous, dammit I should have put my tissues in my pants pockets, not in my coat that is hanging off my pack. Oh boy.
I walked somewhat haphazardly up toward the base, aiming for the ridgeline as much as possible. I saw a couple people the higher up I got. It was a continuous climb at about a 45 degree angle for the next 1.5 hour (bullshit on the one hour). The people I ended up summiting with had started at 7:30 a.m. It was a very VERY hard scramble up dark brown volcanic tephra, which is very loose and intermixed with little sharp black rocks. I felt every muscle in my legs and thighs screaming as I used every climbing technical skill I'd learned to scramble up and maintain balance on small rocks, many of which were very unstable. I slid, fell, was often on all fours, pulled myself up on whatever ridge I could, and kick stepped into the loose sandy substance hoping to gain some traction. It worked somewhat, and I made slow but steady progress. You know that feeling where you think you're nearly at the summit, but then realize you're only at a smallish rise before another climb? Picture about 100 of those, or maybe more. It was endless. But the views were so spectacular, it was worth it every single time you turned around. The "Devil's Staircase" was a 1 on the 1 to 10 scale, with this a 10. Actually, the "Devil's Staircase" doesn't even rank on that scale. In the winter you need to be roped in on this and you need an ice axe and crampons -- no doubt. There was snow still along the mountain, and lots and lots of scree fields and jagged rocks. I'd say the climb was easily a 5.6 or 5.7 through most of it, and possibly even up to a 5.8 climb at parts, especially with the sliding tephra.
While going up the mountain/volcano, I struggled along with two Englishmen (Martin and Andy) and one other American (Michael) from West Virginia. All three worked together in Hamilton, and had just recently moved to New Zealand for the medical field. The country has trouble maintaining a steady supply of people in the medical field, and especially nurses -- with many leaving for Australia, which is (evidently) larger, but also strangely more advanced. We all ended up finally summiting together at about 11 a.m. After snapping some shots, and enjoying some celebratory trail mix, and a chicken sandwich, it was already 11:35 a.m., and time to head back down. I'd hoped to be down the mountain by 11:30 a.m., and was a bit worried on time. The entire hike to the end was supposed to take about 5.5 more hours, and I had no clue how I would get down the mountain. The four of us ended up going down as much as possible in a tight bunch because of all the falling rocks (big ones too), which were also actually a problem on the way up as well. I slid a good ways, falling multiple times, and nearly cutting my hands before I decided to (duh) put on my gloves. In the end we just tried looking for good scree paths, avoiding snow, and surfed/slid down as much as possible without losing too much control. Every now and then I or someone would yell "rock" as different sized rocks were set rolling down -- some larger than my head (spare the jokes).
Once I got down the mountain it was amazing to look up and see that I'd just climbed it. The flats felt so easy, and simple. I could feel the bruises on my knees, seemingly from the inside out, from my left patella. It hurt to touch. And my ankles ached. From there it was an easy walk across to the South Crater, then a painful climb up to the Red Crater. It was like a baby summit, and really would have been easy. But after the recent climb, and cooling down/tightening up, it was pain. I also realized that I should have definitely cut my nails before the trip (even if it was just the day before when I thought of it); I was limping toward the end. Once we made the Red Crater -- beautiful volcanic rock red -- it was nearly all downhill, through the Emerald Lakes, and up to the Blue Lake, with a walk through a frozen snow field. At the Blue Lake I stopped to have a bit of English tea that Martin had carried up in a thermos. He even had milk with him. Amazing. From the Blue Lake it was a zigzag walk through shrubby areas, past the Ketetahi Hot Springs on the way to the Ketetahi hut. I made the hut at about 2:55 p.m., and from there had a little more than 6 km left. On the way over you see a wonderful view of Lake Taupo before you, and the entire countryside north. We also saw some crazy looming dark clouds, which made me a bit glad to be headed out somewhat early. By 3:54 p.m. I was walking through beautiful green forest areas -- a definite change from tree line -- with about a km or so left. I was worried I'd miss my bus, so I decided to dash the last km or thereabouts and made it into the parking lot by 3:57 p.m. When I got there the bus driver told me he was waiting on three others who I had seen ambling about along the way as I dashed by. When I asked them if they were worried about missing the bus their response was, "Well, I suppose he'll wait." Man...if I'd known I coulda just chilled that last km and made it fine.
All in all though it was an awesome trip. The sense of accomplishment was huge, and I was really happy I'd made it. I was the only female that I saw on the summit or attempting it, and the only person who made the Mt. N-hoe summit off my bus. Even cooler, I'd done the summit plus the Crossing in the time it usually takes a person to do just one. It was, quite honestly, the hardest hike I've done. I could not imagine it at altitude. Mt. N-hoe is thankfully not very high at 2,291 meters. I usually don't start reacting excessively to altitude until about 3,000 meters. But those sort of heights would have made the climb psychotically difficult.
That night I went back to the hostel I had piles of black rock and dirt in my crevices and pockets of my pants. A nice hot shower made me human again, and I dumped all my clothes in the wash. I had two celebratory ginger beers as well as an ice cream bar and some more m&ms with dinner. When I put my head down on my pillow I dreamed of my feet sinking into black soil and scree as I climbed endlessly upward on a volcano, on and on...
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