Posing in front of Mt Ngauruhoe
Thursday 13th was a glorious day, a bit of a bonus seeing as that morning I set off on the Tongariro Northern Circuit, a three-day tramp through the volcano-ridden northern half of the park. I can safely say that I have never experienced anything like the might of Mts Tongariro, Ngauruhoe and Ruapehu (pronounced 'Tong-a-reer-oh', 'Nara-hoe-wee' and 'Roo-a-pay-hoo') and I doubt I ever will1. Unless you've been to a volcanic area, only the photographs can really show what the place is like, but I'll have a go at describing it. Yet again a place in New Zealand goes beyond mere vocabulary...
The volcanoes of Tongariro are totally different to Taranaki. Taranaki is bush-clad until the tree line, and after that it's tussock and, finally, rock and snow; it's a classic dormant volcano, having last erupted about 200 years ago. In Tongariro the eruptions are pretty regular – Ruapehu last erupted in June 1996 and smoke still pours out every now and then – and the area is desolate; if you want to know what it's like on the moon, come to Tongariro. I walked through areas where the ground was steaming with sulphuric clouds; places where the ground wasn't visible through the huge clouds of steam rising from subterranean pools of boiling acid; spots where clear, cold water erupted out of the ground to form oases in the desert; craters so big you could hold rock concerts in them; and lakes whose fluorescence put the glacial waters of the Southern Alps to shame. It was another stunning walk, different in its attraction from the mountain walks, bush bashes and river valleys I've been on so far.
The Circuit
Perched on the ridge leading down from Mts Tongariro and Ngauruhoe are the aptly named Emerald Lakes
The walk took me clockwise round the circuit, staying for two nights in huts. I went round Tongariro and Ngauruhoe – Ngauruhoe being a younger, parasitic cone on the side of Tongariro, but looking more impressive due to its size – and along the flanks of Ruapehu, and throughout the weather was cloudless. I started off at Whakapapa, home to the famous Tongariro Chateau, a disgustingly huge and decadent snow hotel that apparently was used to house mental patients in the war (and looks like it did), and headed northeast through tussock and occasional clumps of forest. The first two hours of track were eroded, slippy and, to be honest, a pain, but on arrival at the Mangatepopo Hut things started to hot up, quite literally. After a quick side trip to the Soda Springs, one of the few waterfalls in the area, it was time to climb.
The path winds right past the Emerald Lakes
Climbing up towards the towering mass of Tongariro and Ngauruhoe was extremely hot and bothersome, especially as my legs hadn't recovered from the ascent of Taranaki, but it was worth every bit of sweat. I gave the side trip to the top of Ngauruhoe a miss – an hour's clambering up scree was something I didn't fancy after the previous tramp – but round the corner from the volcanic cone was something even more amazing: the South Crater. Imagine a huge crater, surrounded by mountains, big enough to fit a football stadium in, with the path cutting right across the middle, and that's what the South Crater looked like, a huge, flat-bottomed bowl on the top on the world. Climbing up the side of the crater gave great views of the surrounding moonscape, and at the top was yet another surprise, the Red Crater.
The Red Crater is to Mars what the South Crater is to the moon; it's red, steaming and pretty damn big, and where the South Crater is flat and round, the Red Crater is more like a chasm in the earth, full of strange shapes and colours. As you climb round the edge of the crater, the ground starts to steam with foul sulphurous fumes that smell just like rotten eggs, and just as you think it can't get any more amazing, the Emerald Lakes come into view down in the next valley. The Emerald Lakes are pure turquoise, with yellow edges, and although you wouldn't want to go swimming in them, they're awesome to look at, contrasting with the barren landscape all around.
The central crater of Tongariro
It was on this steaming peak that I met my first tramping companion, Delia from Sydney (though originally from Sweden, an emigrant at four years old). We nattered and walked on together, heading for the Blue Lake – not surprisingly, a blue lake – across Central Crater (another flat one) and on to the Ketetahi Hut, our stop for the night. On the way we made a useful trade; Delia gave me a polarising filter for my camera that she no longer needed, and she got my dubbin (not much use to me without leather boots) and some of my leaflets from the South Island that I no longer needed. I'd been meaning to get a polarising filter since I saw Scott of the Pilbara use one to bring out the blues in the sky, and it proved excellent timing; Tongariro through a polarising filter is something to behold.
Ketetahi Hut is just up the hill from the Ketetahi Springs, a pit of boiling water that throws steam up into the sky that you can see for miles around. Delia and I went to visit the springs, which are technically on private land but nobody seemed to be watching, and I got my first taste of thermal activity; New Zealand is on the junction of two tectonic plates, and in the centre of the North Island are plenty of boiling pools, thermal resorts and so on. Ketetahi Springs, though, was free of tourists, which makes it somewhat unique.
1 Oh yes I would: Gunung Rinjani.
