January 8

Train to National Park, Begin Tongariro Northern Circuit

I got up at 6 AM to have breakfast and pack. The large dining room and kitchen on the ground floor were almost empty at this hour. I took the 7:50 shuttle to the train station, near the "beehive" government buildings. I bought a $33 ticket for the budget train, and booked my Waitomo and Rotorua YHA accommodations from a credit card phone. My phone cards were too low for long distance, and I didn't want to buy another before changing money, since I had less than %50 NZ.

The train boarded at 8:25. The budget train was an older model with smaller windows than the new trains, and no air conditioning. But a ticket on the newer trains cost twice as much, so I figured this would do. There was a lot of commentary on the surroundings throughout the ride. We made a lot of stops. Tea and a small sandwich were served in the morning, and lunch was served at 12:30. This was better than the busses, which just stopped briefly at meal times to let you find a cafe. Snacks and drinks were also sold in the next car up.

We crossed a few deep gorges, and arrived at the town of National Park at 3:40, a half hour behind schedule. It looked like a sleepy little prairie town, and could have been a tiny settlement in the western US. During skiing season, when the slopes in Tongariro National Park are open, it could be crowded here, but now it was practically a ghost town. The land was mostly flat and scrubby, with few trees. There were some houses around, and the streets were deserted. I had hoped there would be someone at the station who could help me get to Whakapapa Village, where the track began. I had called the Skotel yesterday about staying there.

Not seeing anyone around, I followed the Lonely Planet map to a small store. They told me a shuttle could take me to Whakapapa Village around 4:30, and they could check if there were any coming earlier. They also told me that it would be easier to stay in National Park, and take a shuttle from there to the track, since there were more places to stay and regular bus and train service here.

A budget motel called the Ski Haus was across the street. It was mostly empty. The manager stopped vacuuming and came to the desk. She told me she could arrange a shuttle to the track at 4:15, and I could store my extra baggage in the closet here and get a room upon return. She also charged a traveler's check for me, and sold me the necessary hut passes for three nights on the Tongariro Northern Circuit.

I found the kitchen and quickly packed my food for the track, leaving behind my stove and bivy sack that I used at Abel Tasman, since I would not need them in the huts. I also called Rotorua to book a Maori "cultural experience", including a concert and hangi. A hangi is a traditional Maori feast cooked in the ground over hot rocks, and I wanted to be sure I tried one of these before going home.

The bus was a half hour late, but the lady said it would definitely come. In the mean time, a bus of canoeists returned from a three-day trip on a local river, which the lady said was worth doing if I had the time. The bus finally came and took me to Whakapapa Village, 15 km away on the lower slopes of Mt. Ruapehu, which made global news when it erupted in September. Several other people took the shuttle as well.

It was raining lightly in Whakapapa Village. I stopped in the visitor's center, and then looked in the tiny grocery store near the campground to see if they had any freeze dried food. I hadn't had a chance to buy any since the Abel Tasman track. It looked like I would have to make do with 2-minute noodles, a popular backpacking staple, this time. But it was already late enough for an early dinner, so I got a mince pie and hot chocolate before setting out on the trail.

I started walking at 5:30 PM in a light rain, following the road out past the Skotel to the beginning of the track. Most people here seem to like to walk in the morning, so I was not too surprised that no one else was on the trail at this time of day. The track crossed relatively flat, scrubby land with few trees, but some small white wildflowers. The flatness of the land was deceptive, however. There were many deep creek beds to cross, and the trail itself was muddy and severely eroded in places, with deep fissures making walking difficult.

A sign at the beginning had warned that this part of the track was in poor condition, and a person I met in Wellington had told me this as well, but it was worse than I had expected. Work was being done, and some new bridges and stairs were in place. I often had the feeling of crossing some badlands in the Western US, because of all the deep furrows and the scrubby, mostly treeless landscape which was much different from the dense forests I had experienced elsewhere in New Zealand.

I reached a junction in the trails, and started uphill for a while. Magnatepopo Hut became visible in the distance at 7:30, and I reached it at 7:50. The estimated time for this trail was three hours, so I had made good time in spite of the poor conditions.

The hut was crowded, but not full. Some people in tents camped beside it. Many of the people inside playing cards were actually campers. The hut warden found me quickly, having just made her rounds. She was a friendly young lady. I told her that I just got in on the train from Wellington today, and started the track at 5:30, and she said I had a big day, so I must be hungry. I told her I had a snack in town before starting, and she said that wasn't fair, since everyone else was making do with 2-minute noodles.

I made my noodles, with pumpkin soup and cookies, and sat on the porch talking to people for a while. A Maori lady was there, and she said she was still unhappy with how this land was taken, and how the Maori language was once discouraged. This park was sacred ground to the Maori people.

The warden told us that there was a hot spring near Ketetahi Hut, where most of us would stay tomorrow, but that it was on private land, and you were not supposed to trespass there. She also told us that almost everyone does. She warned that the crust near the hot spring was unstable, and that a German was recently severely burned there after falling through the ground into the superheated water below. The warden said there was also a nice spring near Waihohonu Hut, which looked inviting, but unfortunately was frigid.

The conical volcanic peak of Mt. Ngauruhoe emerged from the clouds at dusk, dominating the skyline to the east. If there were clear weather tomorrow, I planned to climb it. The weather was supposed to be clearing, according to the posted forecast. I would have a second chance to climb it the day after tomorrow, with some backtracking, which would make a very long day. We sat talking on the porch until well after dark, while others played cards by candle light inside.

The warden told us how they were amused by all the fuss made around the world about the eruption of Mt. Ruapehu in September. At one point, car-sized boulders were spewing out from the cone, and Dome Shelter on the rim had been crushed by one. But she said it wasn't really such a bad eruption, and that people were skiing on the slopes on the volcano while it was erupting.

Some of the news reports made it sound like they had to evacuate half of New Zealand. A tourist came into the visitor's center at Whakapapa Village and asked where the volcano was that had erupted, and they told him he was standing on it. He wasn't happy to hear that, and left quickly.

The warden said it was worth climbing Ruapehu if we had time. You just take a ski lift up as high as possible, then climb a few hours to the rim. I wasn't sure how I would fit this in, but it might be possible on the last day of the circuit, with an early start.

Copyright Scott A. Yost, 1996. All rights reserved.