Leave No Tongariro OR Central Plateau Is For Lovers

After more than a few false starts, wrong turns, detours, delays, mishaps, minor calamities, two orc attacks and a dwarf rebellion, Kate and Benji embarked, at long last, on their first multi-day campaign to wrest Middle Earth from the forces of darkness.

That means we went on a backpacking trip.

Tongariro National Park, located in the Central Plateau, is where the Fellowship would be truly tested. We planned an ambitious trip for ourselves: the Tongariro Circuit, a three day, two night loop around two active volcanoes and in the eye of a third. We would cover 50 kilometers of some of the most diverse countryside New Zealand has to offer. And we would carry packs. Heavy ones.

Day One: The Bellies of the Beasties

At least one of the members of the Fellowship may have had some early reservations about sleeping in the lap of three somewhat active volcanoes. Mount Ruapehu has erupted as recently as 25 September 2007; at 8:15pm, the volcano belched out a steam and ash cloud that rose above 5000 meters into the air, and a minor lahar, a wave of water, rocks, and earth, went surging down the mountainside. But we double checked the geologic activity in the area before leaving, and with no suspicious reports from the vulcanologists to dim our spirits, we set out.

Our destination that first evening was Mangaehuehu Hut, where we planned to camp and use the cooking facilities. Mount Tongariro, the oldest and most decrepit of the three volcanoes, and Mount Ngaruhoe of Mount Doom fame, rose up out of the high grassy plateau 13 kilometers ahead of us. Mount Ruapehu, that antsy, hulking, uppity teenager of a volcano lurked somewhere behind a heavy bank of clouds 50 kilometers to the West. We planned to skirt lightly around the edges of all three volcanoes, without attracting any unwanted attention or waking any slumbering beasts.

Arriving at the hut an hour or so before sunset, we managed to squeeze into the last available tent site and cook some hard earned pasta and stir fry before the evening’s breathtaking display began. Although there were more than a few noisy compatriots to share the site with, nothing could dampen our appreciation of the vision of rosy light lingering on the valley below and accenting the snowcapped peak of Mount Taranaki, some 350 kilometers to the West. When night finally set in, we snuggled into our tent, reassured ourselves that the grumblings and rumblings we heard were only the snores and carousing of our fellows, and slept somewhat soundly.

Day Two: Misty Mountain Hop

The lesson every backpacker should learn on their second day is that if you plan to be up before everyone else to get a jump on the hike, you WILL be the last ones out. No matter. We enjoyed a sunrise view of Taranaki before packing up our gear and heading into the valley.

The beginning of the Northern Circuit overlaps with the most popular day hike in all of New Zealand: the Tongariro Crossing. Literally hundreds of people cross these 10 kilometres every day, so we were not lacking for company. Most of this company, however, was not carrying forty pounds of equipment on their backs, making for a vast difference in pace. Some just grumbled as they passed. An overzealous German hiker insisted on following inches behind Benji despite numerous attempts to wave him by.

We reached the first crater, and immediately the ‘lunar landscape’ descriptions we’d read in travel guides came to life. Hard-packed volcanic dust comprised the crater floor, vegetation was scarce, and clouds began to envelop the higher altitudes. While neither of us has been to the moon, we’ve talked about going, and this hauntingly beautiful scene may have sealed the deal.
The wind and rain pushed us back and forth as we crept along the knife’s edge, with a cloudy abyss lying on either side of us. At moments like these, when peril is so palpable, the reflexes of the mind are always at their sharpest…














Suddenly, up ahead in the distance, we spotted the famed Crystal Lakes. Or, at least, we smelled them anyway. These sulfurous pools are the result of thermal activity in the area, and on a clear day look like gemstones sparkling in the alpine saddle. To us, however, they had a much more primordial-swamp appeal, and we half expected to run into some kind of reptile-human crossbreed carrying helpless tourists into the viridian depths.












Given that the lakes are the major attraction for day hikers (and the powerful stench that both were giving off), we decided to keep up our pace. We left behind the Tongariro Crossing crowd and made our way into Oturere Valley, better known to us layfolk as The Realm of Lord Sauron himself, Mordor. This vale is largely the result of volcanic activity from Nguaruhoe, with long-hardened pyroclastic lava flows and basalt megaliths dominating the scenery.

Here we found ourselves skidding down slopes of scoria scree, stopping every few meters so Kate could snap a picture of some alpine moss for later identification. As the slope leveled off, we found ourselves treading across dunes of volcanic ash, like some grey-black beach dotted with lava bombs and pumice. Despite our best efforts, neither of us could think of a comparable landscape anywhere else in the world.
A short stop for lunch at the Oturere Hut and we were back on the trail. We passed over rolling steppe and scrub, with the magnificent green slopes of the Kaimanawa Ranges just off to the east. Eventually we worked our way into a forested area with a beautiful stream. Our final stop for the night was at the Waihohonu Hut, where we were able to stake out a nice shady spot next to the most picturesque brook you’ve ever laid eyes on; a truly beautiful spot to spend hours stretching.

Day Three: The Sound of One Hand Clapping

Being in no hurry to vacate this splendour, we slept in and took our time preparing for the hike back to civilization. Day three was to be a relatively level hike, but it was a long haul across the desert like basin between Tongariro and Ruapehu. As we stepped out of the forest, we found ourselves face to face with the latter mountain and all its stunning glaciers and menacing multiple peaks, for the first time.
Old Tongariro and grumbling Ngaruhoe had been our constant companions for two days, but the sight of Ruapehu dropping its seven cloudy veils was humbling anew. The intimacy of that glimpse was reward enough for our perseverance across the Circuit. We heartily congratulated ourselves for taking the long way round. Then we started planning for a perfect pizza dinner.
The basin was long, hot, and relatively unbroken but for a few inviting creek beds, random pockets of soap stone, and one very large and brightly coloured lake where we ate lunch in what little shade the shrubs and grasses could afford. We did our best to remain covered with either clothing or sunscreen, but still managed to score some pretty decent sunburns. We made it back to the mirth mobile by mid afternoon and set a course for Lake Taupo. We planned to stop only for either hot springs or pizza and beer. Whichever came first.

Not surprisingly, hot springs are more common in the area just outside Tongariro National Park than pizza joints. We came across our first thermal pool just a few kilometres from both the park and a small Trout fishing tourist trap called Turangi. The Department of Conservation runs a tidy, if slightly run down thermal reserve in Tokaanu where it is possible to get your own private hot pool for 20 minutes, just as long as you promise not to put your head underwater. Beware the ameobal meningies that lurk within! This threat did not thwart us from taking the waters, however, and after 20 minutes of hot sulphuric treatment, we felt as though we might someday be able to walk again. With renewed vigor, we aimed for Taupo.

Lake Taupo is 622 square kilometres large and reaches depths of up to 160 meters. It occupies a series of old collapsed volcanic craters or calderas that over millions of years of eruptions created the massive one filled by the lake today. The most recent eruption, the Hatepe eruption took place around 180 CE and was the largest eruption in New Zealand in the last 20,000 years. The resulting ash is supposed to have turned the sky red over Rome and China.

That afternoon the lake was navy blue and inviting as we entered the city that owes its name and prosperity to the violence of volcanoes. Lake Taupo is nothing to any of the Great Lakes in sheer magnitude, but it is perhaps still a rival in impressiveness and certainly in beauty. The towering presence of the three volcanoes at its Southern tip, and the volcanic remnants rising all around, do a great deal to improve a lake’s natural physique. We certainly enjoyed it as we sat at the Northern tip, staring back at the enormous distance that we had covered in the last few days, and had a beer to celebrate. We enjoyed it so much in fact, that we didn’t even mind that there were no pizza joints open in this town, either. We settled for delicious sandwiches and fries, and made it back to the little trailer well before dark.

Day Four: That’s All She Rotorua…(har har har)
Believe it or not, the fun and novelty of the trailer wore off the moment we woke up in it. We cooked up a quick breakfast in the communal kitchen (which we shared with about twenty French teenagers on a scouting trip), then cruised on out of Taupo and up the road to Rotorua. We were no more than ten minutes outside of town when the delightful scent of geothermal activity caught our noses, and we were on the hunt for a hot spring.

Halfway between Taupo and Rotorua is an area called Waiotapu, which, if our knowledge of Polynesian languages serves us, means ‘sacred waters’ in Maori. Waitapu is home to a number of hot springs-themed resorts and spas that are just waiting to be stumbled upon by budgetless backpackers. Having splurged the night before on our *deluxe* accommodations, however, we decided to try and find something a bit more finance friendly. We found it in Kerosene Creek.












Kerosene Creek is under the jurisdiction of the Department of Conservation, and was 100% free (don’t tell anyone). Here we were, outdoors on a fabulously sunny morning, surrounded by all manner of New Zealand greenery, wading into a natural stream that was as hot as any bath. Even our lovely experience in Tokaanu could not have prepared us for how amazing this was. We lay out on the rocks as the water rushed by, soothing away the aches from our long walk. We must have stayed for almost an hour before deciding to move on to Rotorua.

The township of Rotorua was much as we expected: laid out in a grid, with plenty of boutique shopping and a myriad of opportunities to jump out of planes. A fine set up for tourists, but not exactly somewhere we wanted to hang around. We made a quick circuit of downtown on foot, then headed out of town to do some lake swimming. Despite enticing names like Green Lake and Blue Lake (names which are largely based on mineral content), we headed for Lake Tarawera, and sang it's name to the tune of "Guantanamera" the entire way. This was a lovely, crystal clear loch just outside of town, and made for a fantastic picnic spot. We followed this up with ice cream and, just for kicks, a sample of blueberry wine (which tastes more like blueberry juice), before settling in for the long ride back to Auckland.

What an amazing weekend. Meanwhile, back in New Hampshire…
Uh... stay warm!

Cheers,
Kate & Benji