Well, we've just crossed the solstice here down south and are now well and truly into winter, all things considered I'm learning a lot about myself. Most importantly that a winter without any ski access will slowly drive me insane, and lead me to make some questionable decisions with how to spend my time. It is far from a Colorado winter with an average daily temperature of 52, and only the wind and rain (of which there is plenty) decide how pleasant the day will be. To my untrained eyes this leaves everyday open for outdoor opportunity, only to leave me frequently caught out in gales and downpours. But rainy forecasts and short days won't keep me down! While Meredith has been working away in Parliament (at her new temp gig) I've been loading up the RAV and heading out to check out some North Island staples.
It took me nine months but I've finally made the mountain biker's pilgrimage up to Rotorua and Taupo. This tourist epicenter is located six hours north in the heart of the North Island and is well known for it's Maori culture, geologic activity, and endless mountain bike trails. Much of what makes the island geologically interesting lies in this one zone starting with the towering Mt. Ruapehu (which Mitch and I checked out in my last post) continuing north to the gargantuan Lake Taupo which then feeds NZ's largest river the Waikato, and ending in a thermal hotspot between Taupo and Rotorua. I was most appreciative of this last feature when I rolled into Taupo on a positively miserably rainy afternoon. After one look around I immediately headed to the nearest hot spring and soaked away my worries in some of the most extensive thermal pools I've ever visited, complete with a towering hot spring waterfall. My recent discovery that I can in fact fold the seats down in the RAV for a serviceable bed for one also saved the day.
The next morning I was on the road bright and early to get plenty of time in at the legendary Rotorua Mountain Bike Park. They claim the park has over 100 kilometers of bike specific trails in it and I wanted to ride as much of it as possible. It did not disappoint. The front part of the park is defined by trails through the towering redwoods that have taken over the hills surrounding town, it makes for great riding any time of year. From there you enter enduro-central where shuttle buses haul lazy riders to the top of a truly epic series of tracks carved through deforested hills. Which is where I will lodge my one gripe against Rotorua riding, much of it is set up for bike haul on these over sculpted tracks to the detriment of ride-both-ways purists like me. There, Rotorua gripe done. From there you can head off into the true back woods with barely scratched out trails sprawling out into the native bush. In two days I was able to put in about 40 miles, and never rode the same trail twice. Not bad for the middle of winter.
It wasn't all riding up on the central island there were also sights to be seen. First stop, an evening trip around the local arboretum to check out how massive the redwood forest truly is. They've gussied it up a bit with an elevated walkway swinging in the treetops complete with artful lighting hanging along the way for when the sun goes down. I contented myself with exploring along at ground level as the sun dipped low, filling the forest with deep red light. The next morning I was back off to check out some more thermal action. As you can imagine much of the best stuff is walled off in thermal parks with high entrance fees, but the area is so geologically active even a cheap-ass like me could see some cool stuff. Renegade hot springs, giant farty mud pools, and geysers galore dot the landscape between Taupo and Rotorua it all made for a splendid morning of sightseeing even if three days of constant sulfur smell was getting a little wearisome...Yum.
Given my slowly oncoming insanity due to lack of skiing, the next week I decided to head out again into the nearby Tararua range for a couple days of tramping. This scraggy range runs due north from Wellington and is well known for both high winds and heavy fog. I scouted it out and believed that I had found a miracle couple of nice days here in mid-winter to do a two-day circuit hike...That did not turn out to be the case.
As I pulled up to the trailhead on day one it was becoming quite clear that the rain wasn't planning on letting up anytime soon. But no matter, if you won't go out in the rain in NZ well you just won't go out much. Besides the first day was just the climb day two held the main mountain crossing. So, I packed up and sauntered along through the mists up and up and up through beautiful beech forests much like what Mere and I experienced on the Hump Ridge. But boy oh boy after hours of marching through the wet I had never been so appreciative of the New Zealand hut system. Rolling up to a dry, wind-free hut with a wood burning stove makes ill-advised tramping adventures much more enjoyable. I was all alone for the evening so I dragged a mattress next to the stove, barricaded myself in the kitchen with a couple spare mattresses and let the fire roar, as that fine kiwi rain turned into something I'm much more familiar with in the mountain winter. Snow.
I woke up the next morning to a storm that was refusing to break. A fine dusting of snow- but mostly ice- covered as far as I could see, which admittedly wasn't very far in the fog. The plan had been to summit the mountain then hike the ridge to a neighboring peak before descending. I hiked a little ways up above bush line before deciding that trudging for hours through the icy mists with no prospect of a view in sight was not worth the effort. So, I turned tail and pleasantly was treated to a fairly serendipitous hike on the way back down. Beech forests covered in snow are indeed a sight to behold.
Moral of all these stories: it's time for me to hit the kiwi slopes.