NZ: The Tongariro Crossing

At 3:30 am my alarm went off. Startled out of deep sleep but oddly awake at the same time, I scrambled out of bed. I stood there for a minute in the middle of the room, collecting my slowly awakening thoughts and waiting for my head rush to subside. After a few seconds I smiled to myself, thinking of the day ahead. Today would take us south into the heart of the North Island to Tongariro National Park where we would hike the Tongariro Crossing.

The Tongariro Alpine Crossing is one of the most famous hikes in New Zealand and well known all over the world. It’s one of those hikes you read about it National Geographic’s lists of best hikes in the world that you know you probably will never be able to do but sigh over the beautiful photographs. It’s an iconic trek through a mountain pass complete with alpine lakes and lots of stairs. It’s also where they filmed many Mordor scenes from the Lord of the Rings and one of the two mountains that frame the pass was Mt. Doom. (Side note: not far from the city of Tauranga is Matamata, the location of the set of Hobbiton, and therefore you can think of the wider area, including Tauranga, to be The Shire. So, one may consider a trip from Tauranga to the Tongariro Crossing to be a basic reenactment of Frodo and Sam’s journey in The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I’ll be sure to include this on my future resume.)

Our trip was nothing like that of Frodo’s, for which I am grateful, but it was a magnificent experience. Due to the hike’s popularity, the park service now has time limits for cars in the parking lot at the trailhead of only four hours. This is not nearly enough time to complete the whole hike, especially since it is 19.4 kilometers one way. Hikers now must see what they can in that short time or take a shuttle from a nearby town that drops you off on one side of the pass and picks you up on the other at the end of the day. The shuttles stop shuttling at 9 in the morning and with bad weather brewing later that afternoon we opted for one of the earlier shuttles. It was a three-hour drive to the shuttle pick up location, which meant we left around 4 am. Most of the drive was done in the dark, so I didn’t get to see much of the surrounding landscape. However, as the sun rose I could see the rolling hills scattered with sheep and the sunlight glinting off the waters of lake Taupo through the trees.

Arriving at the shuttle pick-up I was surprised to see how many people trundled onto the bus, decked out in epic outdoor gear; intense hiking boots, shiny hiking poles, quick-dry clothing and ultra-sporty looking sunglasses, the kind that are metallic blue or orange and when you look at them all you can see is your tiny face reflected in the lenses. A small seed of concern sprouted in my stomach as I looked at my running shoes and flannel shirt: “just how intense is this hike?”. After a few minutes of waiting the bus roared to life and we lurched down the narrow road through the streaks of sunlight spilling out from behind the mountain peaks.

Pulling up to the trailhead was like showing up at Disneyland. I knew the hike was popular, but I could never have imagined the number of people there. Busses constantly rolled in and rolled out again with another one on it’s tail. Every language you could think of was being spoken, and people of all ages and nationalities were milling around, putting on sunscreen and taking selfies. It was a bit of a shock for me, as I am used to hiking in relative solitude. I could see the giant line of people that stretched along the trail, up into the hills and out of sight. We were constantly passing people and being passed by others and they said that over 2000 people hiked The Crossing that day. The crowds of people by no means diminished the grandeur or essence of the hike however. It was wonderful to see people from all over the world enjoying the beautiful landscape. Such a place really should be shared.

We left the trailhead at 8:00 am and made our way up the gently sloping flanks of the mountain. The trail cut through thick green bushes and over burbling streams. Eventually we left the shrubs behind and trudged over sharp volcanic rock, searing in the morning sun. After a few kilometers the trail became steeper, climbing up the mountainside in a series of staircases appropriately called the Devil’s Staircase. This was the first of the major uphill sections and it took us up onto a wide, flat plateau. From here we could see back down across the National Park that stretched out green and hazy in the sunlight. To the left and the right reddish peaks rose up, both off limits to hikers out of respect to the local Maori and the spiritual significance of the summits. Ahead of us the trail made a faint line straight as an arrow across the cracked mud of the plateau surface to more stairs climbing up another slope.

After spending another hour climbing we finally reached the highest point of the trek and were greeted with 360 degrees of jaw-dropping views. The landscape was surreal. Not a bush or shred of green in sight, only rock in shades or red, black, brown and white that streaked across the mountainsides as if in an impressionist painting. The jagged outlines of the mountains clashed against a sky of the brightest blue with clouds only just starting to appear. Beneath us lay a small valley that swooped down in a dramatic arc from where we stood and back up to a lake that sat shimmering in it’s elevated crater. The valley floor was studded with three small lakes, each such a brilliant shade of turquois they looked like jewels glinting in the sun. The contrast from the dusty rock to the bright water was very striking, but so were the fumes wafting up to us from below. The pools, called the Emerald Lakes, were hot springs complete with yellow edges fading to blue and the unmistakable stink of sulfur.

We made our way down to the lakes, sliding in cinder as deep as our ankles and continued up to the larger lake. Once we passed along the shore of this lake the trail finally turned downhill to meander along the gently sloping flank in a serpentine fashion, and through the tall grass that sprung up we could see the trail snaking below us all the way into the forest. Beyond the lush woods lay a sprawling view of the verdant countryside surrounding the shimmering Lake Taupo. It was an easy walk down through the increasing shrubs before dropping sharply into the cool, damp forest. The tall tree ferns and native plants sheltered us from the sun, only letting in a few droplets of light that danced about on the forest floor. The birds could be heard but not seen, and the temperature dropped quickly as more clouds rolled in. Thunder pealed in the distance. We wondered if we would beat the rain.

Exhausted, we walked out into the parking lot at 2:00 in the afternoon, a good deal earlier than we thought we would be. As usual we were surrounded by other tired hikers who were also waiting for their various shuttles. Sitting on the side of the lot we could see everyone coming out of the forest to the finish. People with smiles, people with friends and family and one brave soul in a pair of sandals. The Crossing had lived up to everything people had said of it. It was challenging, beautiful and for many, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. After only a short time of waiting we spotted our bus and just as we stepped on it started to rain.