Tag: Photography

There are a few things on this trip that I didn’t want to miss due to weather or some other snafu, and so booked multiple days at a location for insurance. One of those “must-do” items was the Hooker Valley Track in Aoraki / Mt Cook National Park, a hike through a glacial valley past hanging glaciers, across wire suspension bridges that span roaring glacial rivers, and ending (on clear days) at a glacial lake with a view of Aoraki / Mt Cook rising up into the clouds. Waking up well before sunrise this morning, the skies were mostly clear, so thirty minutes before the sun was supposed to come up I set off on one of New Zealand’s most popular trails with the peaks of the mountains starting to turn red. The word “epic” can be overused, but this trail deserves the superlative; everywhere you look are vertical, glacier-covered mountains, multiple turquoise lakes collect runoff, and three 200 foot long suspension bridges shake and bounce as you cross the rivers. The trail more than lived up to expectations, and as an added bonus there were a dozen kea (large green parrots) at the trail’s end. These birds are nicknamed the “clowns of the mountains” and are insatiably curious. While one was attempting to untie my shoes, another was peeling stickers off of a sign, while others were fighting over tissues they had found, all while incessantly chattering and bickering with one another.

As clouds began to obscure the mountain I finished the three hour out-and-back trail, and after a short break decided to give the Sealy Tarns Track a go. This trail offers spectacular views, but unlike the Hooker Valley Track it is not an “easy” trail, instead consisting of 2200+ steps as it rises vertically through a 1600 foot gain in elevation. Whoever built and maintains this track deserves some sort of lifetime achievement award, because the trail was in excellent condition, but for nearly two hours of hiking, life is a brutal stairmaster as you trudge up step after step, pause to catch your breath (and enjoy the ever-improving views), and then continue the long slog upwards. As advertised, the views of the valley and surrounding glacier-covered mountains were awe-inspiring, but it was with a great deal of relief when I finally reached the tarn (pond) at the top and got to sit and enjoy the quiet, interrupted only by the conversations of some other hikers and the occasional small avalanche on the nearby glaciers.

After descending the stairs and making one last short detour on wobbly legs to Kea Point (no keas there, but it did have a pleasant view over a glacial lake) I returned to my lodging, grabbed a shower, and decided to call it a day. Until, that is, I noticed that the clouds that had been covering Aoraki / Mount Cook since morning had parted, and the late afternoon light was illuminating the mountain perfectly. And thus it was that I ended up hiking the Hooker Valley Track twice in one day, the second time at a brisk pace to try to beat the next round of clouds. The mountain was uncovered by clouds and showing off for the first two-thirds of my hike, although by the time I reached the trail’s end the clouds had again begun to move in. Still, tired as I was, the trail was just as beautiful the second time, and the return journey was made under red skies as the sun set.

Harry Chapin used to tell a story about his grandfather discussing “good tired” and “bad tired”. He describes “bad tired” as a day that wore you down fighting other people’s battles or fulfilling other people’s agendas, and “good tired” as a day that took everything out of you, but did so while you were chasing your own dreams and desires. I’m going to bed exhausted tonight, but I am good tired.

Tonight’s lodging is in the shadow of Aoraki / Mt Cook, which at 3,724 meters (12,218 feet) is the tallest mountain in Australasia. The park is also home to 19 of the 20 peaks in New Zealand that are taller than 3,000 meters, and its 273 square miles are 40% covered in glaciers, so it’s quite the alpine destination. I arrived a bit late in the day to do much exploring, but if the weather forecast holds I’ll be wearing some holes in my hiking shoes over the next two days.

The journey to get here traveled through an area known as the Canterbury Plain, which one guidebook described as “scenically deprived”, and of which Hugh (half of the proprietorship at the Coombe Farm B&B) noted “not much to see along that route”. I thought the five hour drive up through farmland and fields was rustic and charming, but as warned, there weren’t a lot of compelling places to stop for the first several hours.

The first recommended opportunity to get out of the car was in the tiny town of Fairlie to visit the Fairlie Bakehouse. The town itself didn’t seem that notable – main street, lots of shops, a park – but the bakehouse is mentioned in every guidebook, and was the one place both Hugh & his wife Kathrine said to visit. The shop is famous for their meat pies, and while as an American I don’t know much about pies made of meat, I’ve got to say I bought three of them for the equivalent of about $5 USD each (flavors: meatball & mushroom, butter chicken, and vegetable curry), and I got an extremely tasty lunch, dinner and future breakfast out of the bunch.

After leaving the plains the scenery became more dramatic, first with glacier-fed Lake Tekapo appearing against a backdrop of mountains, followed by the even more impressive sight of Lake Pukaki surrounded by glacier-covered peaks. I made stops at both lakes, and at the second also visited a place that I had highlighted in my guidebook. High Country Salmon, located as far from the coasts as you can be in this country, supposedly boasts the best salmon sashimi in New Zealand, so I had to give it a try. They have nearby fish farms fed by glacier water, so it’s fresh as can be, and while salmon isn’t normally my goto sushi, I went back and bought a second takeaway portion after the first helping, and will probably be visiting them again in a few days after leaving the park.

The trip wasn’t supposed to start on the Banks Peninsula. Originally the plan was to arrive in Christchurch and head up the mountains to Arthur’s Pass to do some hiking. However, there aren’t a lot of lodging options up there, and of the ones I liked, the first one was fully booked by a tour group. The second was being renovated and their website has said “opening later this year” since last October. There was one other I liked, an Airbnb, but from its description I got the distinct impression that the owner was lonely and renting out rooms to entice company to stay with her. And thus it was that my attention shifted from Arthur’s Pass to the extinct volcanoes surrounding Akaroa.

I woke up well before sunrise this morning, and after checking the tide charts made an early departure for the Onawe Peninsula, a landmass that is probably no more than 200m wide at its widest point, that juts nearly a mile out into the ocean, but that is cut off from land as the tide rises. There’s a 250 foot hill near the end with the remains of a Maori Pa (fort), and amazing views of the harbor. All in all a pretty nice place to watch the sunrise and a really nice way to start the day.

After returning to the B&B for a breakfast of bacon, eggs and sausage that my cholesterol-obsessed doctor must never hear about, it was off to the Hinewai Reserve, over 3000 acres of what was mostly former farmland that has been restored since the 1980s to native vegetation, much of it by a man named Hugh Wilson who is now in his 70s, still travels everywhere by bicycle, and who I assume is responsible for the signs throughout the reserve that ranged from a “max clearance: 1.65m” sign next to a portion of the trail with a low overhanging branch, to a warning about “no intelligent life” being found in cars (there was something about someone backing over some bushes), and a poignant one noting that a botanist cries every time a hiker carelessly breaks a fern frond. Aside from the signs, there were miles of walking trails through the dense rainforest, and it was a joy to walk through woods filled with plants and animals that were wholly unfamiliar, although I’m likely to be a bit stiff tomorrow after 20,000 steps through mostly vertical terrain.

The day concluded with a visit to pet a few of the local sheep (the B&B sits on 1200 acre farm), another short-ish hike up to a waterfall near the B&B, and a dinner of seared tuna and scallops in town. Tomorrow it’s off to the “Southern Alps” for more hiking, glacier viewing, and stargazing.

Two more items for the record. First, I only turned on the windshield wiper when trying to engage the turn signal about fifty percent of the time today, so there may yet be hope that I can learn to drive on the left without being a menace to others. Second, in case anyone is wondering, as far as I can tell the water in the toilet bowl goes in the same direction as it does in the northern hemisphere when flushed. Mark Rober can provide the science debunking that particular myth, but I was still kind of hoping to see the water going the wrong way.

And so it begins. The flight to Christchurch was probably the emptiest large plane I’ve ever been on, and just about everyone had their own row to stretch out and sleep on. The flight attendant says the return flights are full, but it’s the end of the season and they actually stop this service soon so very few people are going TO New Zealand, which bodes well for avoiding crowds while I’m here.

After passing through customs and getting my rental car, the initial shock of driving on the left and trying to figure out another country’s traffic rules was compounded by the fact that the “compact” SUV that I expected would be about the size of my Subaru was considerably larger, so in addition to accidentally turning on the windshield wipers every damn time I wanted to use the turn signal, I also had to figure out how to navigate what felt like a small boat through the streets of Christchurch. My chosen route was away from the highway and along curvy roads on a long-dormant volcano, which added to the fun. As the roads got narrower and curvier the farther I traveled from the city, it was actually with a bit of relief that I eventually turned on to a sketchy, one-lane dirt road with hundred foot drops on one side, since at least I didn’t have to think about which side to drive on any longer.

The route was incredibly scenic; I’m not quite sure how to describe it, but the myriad turquoise blue inlets felt a bit like fjords, except that they were surrounded by steep grassy hills with the occasional volcanic outcropping sticking out. The route would hug the water for a bit before climbing steeply up to an amazing view, then drop down to the next inlet. Surprisingly, when I first got to the water I saw a bunch of geese, and was excited to start getting familiar with the local birds. Then I got closer: Canada geese, a species that is more well-traveled than I am.

After getting closer to my lodging for the evening I detoured up to the Otepatotu Scenic Reserve, which was on the crest of the volcano and offered expansive views. There was a short hike up to the very top of the summit that went steeply through what the guidebook described as a “goblin forest”. The dense woods was full of mossy trees, ferns, and tiny birds, and while it was incredibly goblin-y, I failed utterly at finding the mythical monsters.

The final stop for the day was at my farmhouse B&B. As I was pulling up the road to the house I saw four beekeepers, and stopped briefly to figure out how to proceed. One of the beekeepers started walking towards me, with a swarm of angry bees circling her. As she got closer I warily rolled down my window to see what she wanted, at which point she told me “Be sure to keep your windows up, there’s loads of bees about.”