Every Day is Sunday

A couple of weeks prior to my trip out to visit Erin and Jeff in the South Pacific, I received the proposed itinerary for our time in New Zealand in an email entitled “Fire and Ice.”  With my curiosity piqued, I opened the message and my eyes lit up as I read one of the first planned activities, the Tongariro Alpine Crossing; a trek across New Zealand’s most famous volcanic valley.

Having traveled on my own and with the Wertkinborns for almost two weeks, I had already been scuba diving off of islands in the Great Barrier Reef, been mesmerized by Sydney’s ever-changing landscape and cityscape, and had driven the breathtaking coastline of the Great Ocean Road with Erin and Jeff….but nothing could have prepared me for our trek across the Tongariro Alpine Crossing.

Alarms set for4:45am (an hour I seldom meet coming from this side) we boarded the bus out to the base of the mountain at 5:30 in the morning. We were soon to find out why every guidebook agreed that this is the country’s best day hike, and why National Geographic magazine rates it one of the best day hikes in the world.

The journey started as we entered a volcanic valley enclosed on three sides with the sun just peaking over the top of the summits of Mt Ruapehu, Mt Ngauruhoe, and Mt Tongariro.  We were still half-asleep when we set out, but luckily the trail started out gradually through a barren valley of windswept brush and light vegetation. 

However manageable this beginning portion of the trail may have been, my mind was already far ahead of my feet. Allowing the group to travel far enough ahead, the raw and untouched terrain of giant craters, red lava sediment, set against the backdrop of snow-capped tops of soaring granite mountains lent itself perfectly for my escape to a boyish wonderland where pre-historic beasts lay behind every crater. 

My walking stick had been transformed into a sword, and my backpack, a shield. I immediately understood why Peter Jackson had chosen this very sight for “Mt. Doom” in Mordor, the inhospitable and other-worldly land of his Middle-Earth in the Lord of the Rings films.

In addition to the dangers and challenges of hiking up the precarious mountainside, we had the added hazard of climbing up towards an active volcanic crater. The trio of active craters forms the southern edge of the Pacific Ring of Fire, a string of volcanoes that stretches as far north as Alaska. Although they’re currently dozing, Mount Ruapehu erupted as recently as 1995, blanketing the surrounding slopes with volcanic ash and acidic water and closing the popular ski area for two years. The unpredictability of when the next eruption might come only adds to the allure of the Tongariro Crossing.

As we peered 7,513 feet up at the summit of the Red Crater, its angled peak stained brick red by oxidized iron, its steep and snowy ridges riddled with sharp and crumbly volcanic rock, its perfectly cylindrical volcanic rim gurgling and burping with steam from the vapors below the surface, we came to the decision collectively that there was no other choice than to tackle this mountain. Short of one sign with an arrow pointing towards the “summit”, this path was not only unmarked, but also unrelenting in its effort to keep us from summiting the peak. With each frustrating and unbalanced step up the steep ridge, we slid back two or three.

But perseverance and perspiration won out in the end, as we finally reached the snowy summit of Mt. Ngauruhoe. When I finally turned around, I was overcome by a scene so majestic, so breath-taking, so unlike anything I have ever before experienced that putting it into words will be an exercise in futility, I’m sure. The view was primordial and other-wordly. Let me just say this; standing atop that mountain that had taken us half a day to conquer, with an unblemished view of the snow-capped Mt Ruapehu, the North Island’s highest peak straight ahead of me, the neon green mineral-rich Emerald Lakes within view, and a barren valley below me, I was left wondering what planet I was on.

Descending the mountain was to become an adventure itself. Left with two options; either back-tracking down the same way we came up, or “skiing” down the mountain’s red and gray scree covered backside, the rest of the group sensibly decided to take retrace their steps over the familiar, if not ideal terrain. But being a man who’s never met a loose backside I could turn away from, I couldn’t resist the urge to challenge myself a little further. Jeff must’ve seen the conviction in my eyes as he didn’t argue when I looked at him and said, “I just gotta do this.” Accompanied by Garret, one of two fellow Wisconsinites we had met on our high-adrenaline adventure, I started down. It didn’t take more than two minutes to realize I was probably going to die attempting this.

The slope was too steep, the terrain too slippery, and every once in a while I had to dodge a boulder that had been dislodged from above and was tumbling towards me. That was until I decided to stop fighting the mountain. Leaning back like I was waiting for a chair-lift to scoop me up, I bent my knees and angled forward until the force of gravity pulled me down the mountain. The thrill of slip-sliding through the lava rocks combined with the sensation of weightlessness made it feel like I was water-skiing on the moon.

Like any good trip up, the remainder of the day brought us down gently through the park’s diverse eco-systems. Traveling past waterfalls and yellow sulfur lakes, crossing arid valley and snow covered ridges, and culminating in a long trek through dense rain forest back to our pick-up site, we traversed more different types of terrain in one day than I’ve experienced in all my days leading up to this one.

Truth be told, I didn’t really know what to expect weeks earlier when I received that email. But after this day, one thing rang clear and true. Some people say be wary of those who promise you the moon and stars, lest you be disappointed when they come up short. Today’s take home lesson: When Erin and Jeff promise you Fire and Ice, you better believe they’re gonna deliver just that.