Wonders of Tongariro

'Mt Doom' - Ngauruhoe at dawn

Based in Pukawa Paradise in a cosy bach just out of Turangi, we found ourselves spoilt for choice. The bucket filled with the wonders of Tongariro was overflowing, and over three days we attempted to soak up as much of the adventure as we could. A well deserved day of rest was indulged in after an intense day in the Kaweka Ranges. So we feasted on many brews and weighed up our many options.

Clicking into gear at the crest of the 'Devil's Staircase'

 The Tongariro Crossing may be a cliché for some people, or a long-term goal for others.Over used, over-used or not - on a pristine autumn morning, you don't get much better than this in Tongariro National Park. Setting off at 7:30am we were able to pass most of the traffic by the South Crater. This was my fourth time on the crater, and have never seen it so clear and calm. The atmosphere was incredible, we were in awe of the bellowing mountains.

Royal red - and not an ounce of snow - still a true summer crossing in the middle of autumn

Vibram FiveFingers - Ben's Bikilas ticking over on the smooth South Crater

Ben and Kristian both decided to take on the Crossing running in their Vibram FiveFingers. Despite the trail's outward appearance of being rough mountainous terrain, since the trail is so well used the actual surface is about 75% finely crushed volcanic rock - an ideal running surface - the Vibrams had no problems skipping over the occasional rocky section. With a zero-drop heel and virtually no cushioning, each footstep would be placed exactly where it was intended.

An inspired mountain dance at the Emerald Lakes

The final climb to Blue Lake before the buzz downhill!

We were in two mindsets on the run - half of us wanted to push ourselves and see how fast we could churn through the 19.8km trail. The other half wanted to savour the rare occasion of a completely clear morning in the midst of the mountain arena. In the end we managed both, taking photos on the run and stopping for the occasional intoxicating sulphur whiff at the lakes.

Blue Lake

A sensational view over Turangi and the gleaming Lake Taupo. Kristian cranking a casual mid-descent air guitar riff

 Once past the North Crater we took on the 1100m descent with full force not stopping till we reached the Ketetahi Carpark. From Mangatepopo to Ketetahi in 2hrs15 sounded good to the ear, but upon learning that the record was 1hr25 set by Callum Harlind, we felt put in our places!

Lake Rotopounamu - pristine

Lake Rotopounamu is found secretly perched behind Turangi, a local taonga to the Maori. We shared their treasure on another crisp Tongariro morning, encircling the 7km lake-loop slowly, still recovering from the past week's activity. The huge amount of net downhill had punished our quads like never before. Even so it was worth the brief pain warming up to discover another beautiful new place. 

Clear reflections

A familiar footprint

Blitzing the trails at Craters of the Moon

 To cap off a sensational week, Craters of the Moon mountain bike park on the outskirts of Taupo was the last item on our list. Named after the volcanic craters that steam away in the park, a quality network of trails were just waiting to be explored. The fast flowing Outback trail gave us a good warm-up tour before we sweated up the Grinder, earning ourselves a fun and long winding descent which was aptly named Better than P.

By the time we arrived back in Auckland, after eleven days of glorious adventure by kayak, foot, and mountain-bike, we were exhausted. But not for long. Checking in on the teams from the 5-day GODZone Adventure Race in Queenstown, we almost forgot that these teams had been on the go for up to 120 hours with less than 3 hours sleep per night. I enjoy my sleep, but there is something extremely elusive about racing non-stop through the mountains of the south in a teams of four only kept together by an overwhelming sense of adventure, fun and insanity. What could be better?  

Nelson Lakes

The classical Nelson Lakes view: Lake Rotoiti from St Arnaud

Nelson - the top of the south. So its fair enough that it hosts the magnificent Nelson Lakes National Park - the northern-most strain of the Southern Alps.

Despite their grandeur, I couldn't find anyone to accompany me on the ambitious journey I'd set through the park this weekend. So I took to the mountains solo. No need to worry, I was well equiped, into my new 25 litre pack I stashed a sleeping bag, goretex jacket, a few thermals and plenty of food. A short ninety minute drive from Nelson to Robert Ridge, I left straight after work and was on the trail by 6pm - onwards to Speargrass Hut!

Crossing the Speargrass Creek bridge to the hut

Stage 1: Robert Carpark -> Speargrass Hut (1hr15)
No time to lose, I was off. Still getting used to running with a 6-8kg pack on my back, I had a leisurely jog to the hut, sidling around the head of Mt Robert and alongside Speargrass Creek. The hut was perched in an open clearing of, surprisingly, speargrass - late evening cloud hung around the epic looking gulley towards Lake Angelus... I decided to call it a night here, and rest up for the big trek tomorrow.

Israeli Man saying goodbye at Speargrass Hut

I shared a breakfast of PowerBar muesli in a bag with an Israeli couple, and a British tramping family who were forever asking their son Thomas to kindly brush his teeth. Too bad I'd ditched mine - unnecessary weight! The water was so pure, my teeth were cleaned to mountain-stream fresh breath standard.

Stage 2: Speargrass Hut -> Sabine Hut (1hr40)
On the road at a spritely eight o'clock, I took to the gradually declining trail to Sabine Hut with gusto. I passed a few small forest tarns along the way, uniquely out of place. In the huge scheme of time, I cut through the still forest as a momentary blur.

Blue blur through the greenery

Was this a great mass of blue sky appearing through the trees, or the huge still expanse of Lake Rotoroa? The air was still but for the irritating buzz of sandflies - I avoided being their morning tea and spent mine swimming in the lake. Cool and refreshing, I drank as I swam. The lake's surface coated in spongy moss gave my feet a good massage before moving on down the Sabine River.

Early morning bath at Rotoroa

Stage 3: Sabine Hut -> West Sabine Hut (2hr30)
Travelling down the true right bank of the river made for an idyllic run. It felt like true South Island, open grassy patches with views down the river to the high 2000m peaks still holding snow at the tops. The track was mostly flat, except for a few "step-ups" as an Australian tramper put it, the trail was fast going helping me to cut the tramping time to West Sabine hut in half.

Cairns lead the way

Taking a break by the river

To cross the river though, not quite so easy! - the bridge had been smashed in a flood, and the warped wreckage was still hanging in the blue rush. Thanks to some local knowledge, I found  a log conveniently lying across the river, which I waltzed across. As it turned out, this one broken bridge would affect almost everyone on the circuit and everyone planning to come in the next week - with big downpours forecast, the tame Sabine would soon become a raging, rising torrent.

Tricky traverse

Stage 4: West Sabine -> Upper Travers (2hr50)
After a cramp relieving lunch with a fellow solo Swiss man, I braved the brutal climb ahead up to Travers Saddle. Still sucking down gallons of the sweet stream nectar, I realised I was over-hydrating when I started stumbling in a dizzy haze all over the trail. Too much of a good thing - I decided my blood electrolytes must have been diluted from all the drinking, so I rushed a sachet of Vitasport into my reservoir, along with a gel-shot of Leppin. I slapped my face together, and it made all the difference. December two years ago I was cruising down this steep scree slope with Rangitoto College tramping friends. What a challenge attacking the slope from this direction! Every so often I paused to catch my breath, but looking back to see where I'd come, my breath was instantly taken away....

Magical run

 I reached the saddle at 4pm, exhausted but revelling. Mt Travers looked dangerous, a lot sharper than I'd remembered... Being alone high on a mountain pass made most things seem more extreme, although I was still in just a t-shirt and shorts, there was barely a zephyr of wind pushing through the saddle - bizarre. The weather always a huge controlling factor had made today's epic journey a lot tamer than it could have been.

The Triumph of Travers Saddle

I hopped down the boulder field a few hundred metres to Upper Travers hut, staunch at the head of the Travers Valley. There I met a real crowd, a swift contrast to my high wilderness experience minutes before. Older folk from Melbourne, two brothers from Arizona USA, as well as the usual European cocktail. They were all interested to hear about my quest - they had not yet been over the saddle, so I shared my tales about the wonders of the valley yonder.

Stage 5: Upper Travers -> John Tait (1hr)
Although I relished the company and donations of tea and chocolate, I was itching to get a bit further before dark to make Sunday a short one. My feet became itchy after two hours in the hut... and before I knew it I was waving to my new friends from down the valley before disappearing into the bush again. But to my horror, when I finally made it to John Tait just before dusk, the hut was empty! This second contrast of the day, a very long day, made for a very lonely night. I set the fireplace ablaze to keep me company, the licking flames and crackling beech leaves my only amigos in the huge hut. I collapsed into my new Mountain Hardware Phantom 45 sleeping bag, enjoying all 500 grams of down powered warmth.

Warmth

Stage 6: John Tait -> Hopeless (1hr40)
As it turned out, the head-start I gave myself outweighed itself as a sleep-in. Well worth it. The green-moss goblin-like forest woke me up as I followed the Travers river downstream to the infamous Hopeless Valley.   Ironically, it really did live up to its name this time two years ago - heavy rains flooded the creeks and we were trapped an extra day - we escaped barely before Search & Rescue were called! So I started up the creek with trepidation, along with a huge dose of nostalgia and flashes of déja-vu.

Harry Hancock & co - Hopeless Hut founder

The creek was so low, a mockery to our epic survival battle back in 2009. Hopeless Hut had even had a makeover, the cracked windows and rusted sink replaced and shining new. This hut, one of my favourites in NZ, has rich history - and by some great fortune, when I arrived I met the Harry Hancock - the man who built the hut back in the 1950's! It was opened by none other than Sir Edmund Hillary. Its vintage gives the shack real character, I find the new modern huts lack soul. But in the wilderness a roof is a roof! If its rainin' you ain't complainin'.

Stage 7: Hopeless -> Angelus (2hr50)
I gritted my teeth for my last hurdle - I reminded myself that from Sunset Saddle its all downhill to the finish. This was my mantra as I picked my way through the vaguely marked cairns up the the rugged scree basin. Not basin, ocean. An ocean of rock determined to sink my ankles and slow my progress towards the saddle surface. Deciding that the markers had been designed for people coming down from Sunset, I was all but left stranded in terms of navigation and had to decipher my own route up around the daunting waterfall face and around the misty alpine tarns.

Mountain Arena

Alone in this wild mountain arena now felt the most remote of all. It was overwhelming, and almost hard to breathe at times as my guts clenched in a sensation overload. Mist crept over the ledge I'd just climbed, and with it a jagged whiplash of chill forced me to a thermal for the first time. Again the extended effort of climbing almost 1000 metres from the valley floor, combined with low sugar levels was making me feel delirious - I gave up holding out for lunch at the hut, and stopped just below Sunset Saddle for a much needed boost. And that I did, I cut steps up the last snowy slope to finally reach the saddle, marked with a huge mound of rocks. Phew. From Hopeless to [the wings of] Angelus.

Stage 8: Angelus -> Robert Carpark (1hr50)
Feeling absolutely shagged by the time I stumbled into the new hut at Lake Angelus, the warden took pity on me and boiled me up a heavenly cup of tea. I had two. Of the five approaches to Angelus, the route via Sunset Saddle is the hardest and most untracked of all - in fact it’s not even marked on the map! Definitely the most satisfying though.

Warden gazes over the lake to Sunset Saddle

Now all that lay before me was 12km of snaking ridgeline over the open rolling tops to Mt Robert. The trail was rough as it sidled the notable Julius Summit, I skipped over plate-like shards of rock crumbling from the Roman's terraces. At last Lake Rotoiti re-appeared, heralding the incredibly nauseasly steep, zig-zagging "Pinchgut" track. I collapsed in a heap at the car park, with no one else around except the beech trees towering around me, unfazed and unaware of the journey I'd just completed.

Descending the Pinchgut

It was hugely satisfying to conquer the whole Sabine-Travers circuit in just a weekend, and such a success that this may be the first of more multi-day runs to come. The "Solo Experience" was new and exciting, especially when tested out for the first time in the magnificent setting of Nelson Lakes. Though for every awesome moment of silence, there was always a tinge of loneliness. For safety's sake I'll keep solo trips at a minimum, as long as I can convince someone to join me - that means you!   

C'EST FINI

Run statistics
Distance: 74.2km (7km, 40km, 27km)
Vertical gain: 4733m
Max slope: 55% (Sunset Saddle route)
Huts: 8 (Speargrass, Sabine, W. Sabine, U. Travers, John Tait, Hopeless, Angelus, Relax Shelter)

Elevation Profile

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