Day 46 - tongariro

Mantepopo hut —-> Tongariro holiday park 25km

I’d been looking forward to this day with both excitement and trepidation - the famous Tongariro Crossing. Excited to walk “the best” one day hike in NZ, but anxious that I had to walk it alongside the hundreds of tourists who would also be on the track and potentially also walk it in the rain…

I was awoken early by other hut-goers who thought it completely appropriate to have in-depth discussions about their dreams in loud voices at 6am. The hut and the campsite was almost full so there was no lie-in once people started cooking breakfast; the foot pump for the sink was loud enough to wear off a general anaesthetic.

After packing up and eating brekkie (surprisingly slower than I thought due to all the people around), I chatted to Katherine & Marley, TA walkers I’d met in Taumarunui a few days before. They’d come into the campsite around 10.30pm after walking up to the top of the track for sunset, and then back down in the dark! I’d see them back in Taumarunui tomorrow as they were also starting the river on the 2nd Feb.

As I left the hut, I marvelled at Tongariro - the volcano was in full view which gave me hope that the rain might stay away and I’d have glorious views from the top…

I soon joined the rafts of day-hikers along the trail, their small day packs sitting effortlessly on their backs. The first few km were wonderful; a gorgeously touristy boardwalk that took me over the boggy undergrowth and let my shoes attempt to dry for a little longer (they were still horrendously wet from yesterday). The landscape was dark and moody, the volcanic rock either side forming a dramatic driveway for the mountain ahead.

Then the climbing began. Signs every few km warned of the steepness and that “the toughest bit is yet to come”. I laughed, pffft how hard could it be.

Well pretty rough in fact! I couldn’t get over how out of breath I was, this was no where near as steep as Pirongia yet I was struggling. The air perhaps?! The hoards of people breathing in my air?!

I reached the end of the first climb relieved to see a long stretch of flat ahead of me. A giant red crater straight out of The Martian.

To the right, people were heading off the track and climbing up along a ridge, so I did the same - it overlooked a rather funny coloured lake, just nestled amongst the jagged rocks. I found a spot overlooking it and wolfed down a snack before moving ahead, the wind had really picked up and I was getting pretty cold. Everyone else walking past in their trousers or leggings made me realise my shorts were maybe the wrong choice this morning.

The steepest section was now directly in front of me - the climb up to the summit and the lookout over red crater. 30 minutes earlier, the path had been clear, I could see hundreds of metres in every direction, but now the clouds were starting to roll in and with that, the gentle sprinkling of rain.

As I climbed higher the visibility got worse, I was just heading towards a walk of fog. Freezing cold, I stopped to dig out my gloves from the bottom of my pack, my hands barely able to grip my poles. I should have definitely pulled my trousers out at the same time but I was willing the clouds to roll out just as quickly as they’d rolled in, so I convinced myself I’d be fine in shorts.

I reached the top and looked over what would normally be an epic view of the red crater, but instead stared out into an epic view of cloud. I tried to stay for a while at the top in the hope that it would blow through but the wind was so cold I couldn’t bear to stand still for long.

I descended down the skree slopes as quickly as I could skree-ski and found the cloud thinning a little at the bottom. I could just about make out the water of the blue lakes, or maybe emerald lakes? I have no idea, but even in the cloud the colour was quite magnificent.

As I kept moving, the cloud cleared ahead of me and I had briefest of moments to see what the fuss of this volcano was all about. Geysers billowing steam through ashen rocks and bright aquamarine water sitting neatly amongst the dark landscape. I beckoned to the people walking towards me to turn around as I’m sure they wouldn’t have seen it on their way up. We all stood in awe for twenty seconds or so before the cloud came back and we were back to standing in the fog.

The trail continued across rocky peaks, the clouds lifting slightly as I headed down the mountain. I wished I could sit a while to admire the half-views I had but by 11am I was so cold all I wanted was to get down off the mountain.

I all but ran for the next hour, passing more geysers and snaking my way down the mountain, stopping only once I was well below the clouds and could finally remove my gloves.

Once at the bottom, the trail followed an extremely icy-looking river all the way to the end and then petered out onto a car park. I expected a fanfare for the arrival of all the hikers, but there was nothing, not even a coffee cart. Just minibuses waiting to take people back to their hotels. With well over 100,000 walking this track every year I would have expected at least an ice cream van?! Feeling accomplished, yet a little underwhelmed, I ate my lunch on my chair in the car park (there wasn’t even a picnic table) and then set off on the final 7km for the day, down the state highway to Tongariro holiday park.

When I rocked up to the holiday park, the owners told me they’d passed me in their van a few km back but hadn’t stopped as they thought I looked like I was having a great time…! (I wasn’t, the road was utterly boring and I definitely would have taken a lift had they offered.) They wonderfully put me up in a cabin for the same price as my tent so that more than made up for it. Despite said cabin resembling a prison cell more than anything cabin-like, it had a heater and a bed, so I snuggled up in my sleeping bag to warm up after a pretty tough day. I cooked dinner in the TV room and watched Bring it on - pumping me up to get now excited about the next adventure - the river!