It's well known that I didn't come to New Zealand for the academics, for the culture, or for the history (at least not primarily). I came for the lifestyle and for the easy access to the outdoors. So naturally, I didn't want to waste any time getting out there. This being New Zealand, and my home of Ilam Village being filled with international students who chose to come to New Zealand, there were others of the same mind, including another student with Arcadia by the name of Andrew.
Andrew is from San Jose and goes to Olin College near Boston, and on our first day in Auckland we decided we wanted to get out as much as possible this semester. To do that, however, we needed some gear. Namely, a sleeping bag, two pads, a stove, pots, a tent, and whatever other miscellaneous camping goods we could think of. After a short afternoon and a very long afternoon getting acquainted with all the employees of the downtown outdoors stores -- conveniently located right next to each other -- as well as with the ATM, we had all our stuff.
The original plan was for all of Arcadia (14 people) to go on a beach camping trip Thursday for a few nights, and that was our plan too. But on Wednesday we learned that Thursday night was the big kickoff toga-techno party hosted by the student association. Enough of our group wanted to go that the camping trip wasn't going to happen Thursday. Andrew and I didn't really see it happening Friday either, so we made an executive decision to get everything we needed to go backpacking on Thursday afternoon and hit the road (to somewhere) Friday morning. Thursday at noon we first met and decided we would try to go to Arthur's Pass, about a two hour drive north-ish. By six-thirty, we had shopped for all our gear, called one of our Arcadia friend's roommate (who had the day before expressed interest in tramping), added her to the trip, and bought food for two nights. The bus we planned on taking would no longer accept online reservations (it was at 7:30 the next morning) and a call revealed that it might be full, but to call back at 8:15 when the final list came out. Thankfully, there were three seats. After splitting up the food and setting a meet-up time of 6:20, we were ready to go.
But not ready for bed. We still had the toga party! Andrew and I attended, while the third member of the expedition (a girl named Taylor) went to downtown Christchurch. Long story short, Andrew hung out with Arcadia people after the party and went to bed at 2:45. I left early, wrote a fellowship proposal to send off and went to bed at 2:55. Taylor got back from downtown at 3:30. But at 5:50, our alarms went off, and at 6:25 we were walking to the bus stop.
Now the reason I chose Christchurch was because it was close the mountains. And indeed it was. Two hours after leaving, we were parked in Arthur's Pass, after climbing up hillsides in our old bus at about 20 kph.
The road out of Christchurch. We're headed for the mountains in the background.
Mountains getting closer.
Nearing Arthur's Pass.
We had no plan, just backpacks and three days. After getting dropped off, we went to the visitors center and told them our deal: We've been in New Zealand for a week, we just drove in from Christchurch, and we want to take a two-night trip. The lady there didn't blink, instead handing over brochures on the hikes. We found some that looked good, and after consulting with her decided on one that would bring us up one river valley, across a pass, and down the adjacent valley.
The trailhead was about 5 km down the road, and the end of the hike was about 25 km down. So, not wanting to be any less impulsive than we could be, we called the bus company to arrange for a pickup where we would exit the mountains and then stood on the side of the road outside the visitors center with our thumbs out waiting for a kind soul to pick us up. After about 20 cold minutes (it was windy) a guy named Remy waved us into his Land Rover. He was a mechanical engineer who hated managers who didn't know any of the technical stuff their staff did, had two yapper dogs in the back seat (his wife's, he said), had diabetes, was driving to Christchurch because his mother-in-law or some relation had died, and drove really fast on winding roads while keeping half an eye on his GPS and radar detector. Five whip-lash inducing kilometers down the road, and we were ready to start the hike:
Andrew and Taylor at lunch on the first day.
A cool waterfall pouring down the mountainside.
There was some serious up in a few parts. My legs were burning. Of course, we also had some serious down, at one point so steep they had left us a chain to hold on to.
Andrew and Taylor. This was the typical vegetation: mid-size scrub. In some places it was grass, which we could walk through easily enough (even if it was sometimes waist high). In others, it was thick woody bushes (like in the right foreground). These were nearly impossible to get through, and gave you plenty of little scratches on your legs.
Our first campsite. They have huts along many of the trails, but we camped about half an hour beyond one. They're really nice, with wood interiors, tables and benches, bunks, and a stove, but they cost a few bucks and we wanted to camp outside anyways (and try the new tent!).
It was advertised as a two-person, but we definitely fit three. This is us going to bed at about 8 o'clock. We didn't have much else to do and were a little short on sleep.
The second day was the long one. It was an eight hour hike up the rest of the Edwards, over a pass called Tarn Col, down the other side, over a much lower pass, and into the Hawdon valley. I believe we crossed three divides in the single day, and our elevation went from about 1000 meters to 1650 meters back to below 1000.
Andrew showing how tall the grass can get.
At the first of the three divides
Looking back down the valley we had walked up. This was the good walking: all above the brush line (not to be confused with bush line -- bush means forest in New Zealand).
A cairn gateway frames the saddle we were soon to climb.
Andrew on his way up to Tarn Col.
Enjoying the view near the top of the saddle.
Taylor once we made it up.
There was an excellent ridge line that in just over a kilometer would bring us to the top of a mountain, so Andrew and I left our packs with Taylor and took off on a side trip. It was quite the hike: there were two sections of knife ridges, where we were using all four limbs and had multiple hundreds of feet falling off gorge-style to either side. It wasn't too bad -- we were probably three, not one, slip from quite a tumble.
At the top. Nothing but mountains to every horizon. Amazing.
A view from the top. Our path led to the little lake in the middle, then down to the forested valley beyond that curves off to the right.
Andrew descending one of the knife ridge sections. The gray in the upper right of the photo is about 1500 feet down.
There were so many beautiful waterfalls on the entire hike. This was one on the mountain face across the valley.
After getting down from the peak, we had to descend the other side of the pass, which was even farther. It was a lot brushier too. This is the kind of stuff we tried to avoid walking through, but sometimes had to.
At last: a view down the Hawdon River valley. We camped just before the river makes the first left turn. It was some serious down to get there, but the forest was stunning and we caught sight of two waterfalls on the way.
Our second night we actually camped just across the river from another hut, again mainly because we wanted to camp out, but also because there were other people we'd passed on the trail who were staying there (the only people we saw on the entire trip except for the last two miles). The last morning dawned bright and clear, just perfect for our lengthy but quick walk out to the highway.
Our second campsite. We did go to bed after dark this time, and would have even later if it hadn't started raining a little. Speaking of rain, apparently these rivers can flash flood. I never would have guessed, but the ranger at the visitors center had been very sure to tell us not to try to ford rivers if they were flooding. If they get enough rain, these relatively docile streams can become quite the raging torrents, stranding trampers. We kind of wished to get stuck, but then again, not really.
Glorious day on the Hawdon River, and a glorious bar to walk down.
Andrew and Taylor demonstrating proper fording technique. The water was crystal clear and not that cold. Because it was the last day, I tested the wet-foot method. It was certainly a lot more freeing, but I'm still not sure it will keep me blister free. And my boots are still soaked.
Cruising along country that reminded me a little more of home. You can see the trail we were following in this picture. The trails were neat, actually. Parts of the route had marked trails through the woods that looked kind of like this, but a lot of the route was over bars or the grassland I have pictures of above, and here the trail would be intermittently (and not regularly) marked by orange posts. Sometimes it was clear, other times we weren't sure whether we were on it. In the scrub brush, the trail was beaten down under the grass, but the grass on each side was leaning completely over it (it would only be a foot wide), so it took some real searching to find it. I thought it was a good mix -- there was a route, but you couldn't mindlessly follow it. It kept you thinking.
A view down the main river (that the Edwards and Hawdon flowed into) from a bridge just off the highway.
Time to go home. Our bus was a little late, but not so bad. I sat next to a guy who was riding to Christchurch for a Don McLean concert. He was an outdoorsy guy who rode around on a bike with a trailer (he's never had a car; hence the bus). I talked to him about outdoor things in New Zealand, which was enjoyable. He gave me some good advice about places to go and how locals handle the outdoors.
And with that we were back at the University of Canterbury and it was time to clean my room, unpack my gear, and get ready for classes. I hope to keep getting out like this, though. The landscape is comparable to Alaska, which isn't something I can say about many places. And it's all so close! Andrew and I were wondering if we could make it the semester without a weekend in Christchurch. Unlikely, but I wouldn't be disappointed were that the case.
No comments:
Post a Comment