A Southern Send-Off
With a tear in my eye, it’s my last post from New Zealand! Good thing I got some powdery turns to help me get over it.
These Snowy Alps
It's here ladies and gentlemen. The end is nigh. Meredith and I are officially clinging to the last threads of our yearlong visas and plotting our next moves. So we'll be packing up our lives here in Wellington in just a few weeks and jetting off for a summer in the true down under, Tasmania. But before then I had to get out on one last, epic trip to ski some snowy southern mountains.
While I by no means moved to New Zealand for the skiing I've been sniffing out the most promising areas down south all year, and my travesty of a time skiing on the North Island had to be redeemed. Fortunately, I had a string of friends down on the South Island ready to play host and help me put together a whirlwind ski vacation. I loaded up what few pieces of ski gear I've lugged along with me and took my first flight- in almost a year!- to Queenstown.
Things got off to a buttery smooth start as I jetted down to QT and was fueling up with a local staple, Fergburger, when who walked in but (my host) the one and only Preston Gene Penny, cut early from a day's work. Preston was living over in Australia and has decided to extend his southern adventure and is now living in Queenstown with a gaggle of Aussie flatmates in a house that reminds me so much of my friends' places in Vail it's cracks me up. Ski bum accomodation is the same the world over. It was great to have a warm welcome and get to know a crew properly living the southern winter dream. To cap off a great start: a sunset stroll looking across Lake Wakatipu up towards my destination for the next day, The Remarkables.
“The Remarkables solidified my general opinion of NZ ski fields: they’re all basically A Basin.”
The Remarks (as they call it) is one of two local fields outside Queenie and sits up in the iconic Remarkables mountain range just north of town. With all New Zealand ski fields, you start your drive off in a verdant valley below and turn off onto a purpose built road that climbs dramatically up to the snow line above. It's a foreign concept for a Colorado boy who's accustomed to skiing right out of town, but driving up those windy roads is a hoot nonetheless. Each one I hit seemed crazier than the last, but little did I know what I was in store for down the line. After my trip to Turoa, The Remarkables solidified my general opinion of NZ ski fields: they're all basically A Basin. Above tree line, wide open, laid back, and begging to be explored. Fortunately this first day gave me basically peak A Bay, clear blue skies, incredible views in every direction, and some soft turns still to be found in the surrounding hike-to terrain. I especially appreciate that The Remarks has dispensed with all illusions of a mid-Mountain lodge. Instead in their main bowl you'll find a packed down picnic area with some guys flipping burgers, beers flowing, and tunes pumping. Not a bad way to get my legs under me.
From there it was straight up and over the Crown Range and into my favorite NZ ski town, Wanaka, to see an old friend. Kevin Fleuger has been a friend for years, and I've long known him to be an ambitious skier. He's living a dreamy ski bum life moving from Aspen to Jackson and now chasing the endless winter down in Wanaka. It's funny that we never actually hit the hill together in Colorado, but no matter he had some epic terrain he wanted to show me at his local hill, Treble Cone.
“With no trees anywhere you get the fully blind skiing experience of Vail’s back on a stormy day everywhere you go.”
My first day at TC did bode a bit on the ominous side, rain in town and a socked in hill up the valley. But what of it? I'm a well accustomed storm skier, and if anything I was hyped for some freshies. In keeping with the increasingly crazy ski field road theme, TC did not let me down. This one's wholly unpaved and on my first day they wouldn't even let me attempt it in my little rental, so we jumped on the bus with some other rambunctious skiers and drove up into the clouds as Lake Wanaka faded away into the distance below. We arrived to a nearly empty ski field (despite some great snow) and it soon became evident why. Kiwis don't storm ski. And with (arguably) good reason, with no trees anywhere you get the fully blind skiing experience of Vail's back on a stormy day everywhere you go. Fortunately the clouds were blowing in and out and we had some patches of good visibility as we warmed things up skiing hot laps on the front side, which- with its rolling, open terrain- felt a lot like hitting Ricky's Ridge at Vail over and over. Not too shabby.
We eventually moved on to the rowdier back side for some fun little cliff lines and untouched turns. The real treat came the next day, however, when the snow gods gave us a solid 6-8" overnight and clear skies in the morning. This brought out the masses for sure, but we had a plan: head straight back to the easily accessible Motatapu chutes in the TC side country. Back in the chutes things are fully pinned. Steep slopes, soft spines, and cliffs abound. We hit it just right sneaking in some killer laps on some untouched southern pow, even getting a few cheeky face shots before the clouds came back in and had us running for more central slopes.
“Each turn felt laden with memories.”
After two killer days in Wanaka I left on high for a bittersweet drive across the island to my next destination, Christchurch. It's a considerable haul over some high mountain passes and through some of the island's most beautiful country. I got a bit misty as I cruised past the beautiful high mountain lakes Ohau, Pukaki, and Tekapo on a dramatic afternoon as a storm moved over the mountains. Each turn felt laden with memories of all the adventures Meredith and I had over the summer on this stunning island. But as I drove on the rains set in earnest, boding for great things ahead.
In Christchurch, I met up with some friends from Dunedin: Harriet and Charlie. The report looked great, so we were up early and sunrise found us, pedal to the metal, heading for the central Canterbury ski fields. Now, if you do research on skiing in New Zealand you'll likely come across all the mountains I've described to you thus far, maybe even Turoa up north if you're really looking. Which makes sense, they're the biggest hills with the biggest budgets. But the best terrain may pass right underneath your nose. That's because central Canterbury is home to some of the most prominent mountains in the Southern Alps; indeed, visiting the area gives the truth to that name, these crowded snowy mountains are nothing if not truly alps.
“The most lovable, renegade ski area I’ll ever visit.”
The hills in this area- lovingly called 'club fields' as they're all run and supported by registered club members (but are still public access)- are ragged operations with not a single chairlift between them. They all serve to provide a home base and basic access to extended areas of side country surrounding their respective peaks. Based off the near foot of fresh that fell overnight we headed about two hours inland from Christchruch, way up Arthur's Pass, to Temple Basin. In keeping with the crazy ski field road trend, this one wasn't even a road. Instead, you pull off the highway and toss all your gear onto a sketchy goods lift that carts all your shit up the hill as you hit a hiking trail. Half an hour of huffing and puffing up from the valley floor gets you to snowline, and probably the most lovable, renegade ski area I'll ever visit.
A couple huts provide rooms, food, and shelter for what have to be some of New Zealand's most ambitious skiers. You can really cut the chaff with a hike to the base of a mountain. We piled into the lodge and geared up for an epic day as the sun crested the peaks in a cobalt sky. With no chairlifts you're conveyed up the hill on two rope tows at Temple Basin, but not tows like I've ever seen them.
“It’s so cheap, it’s so minimal, it’s so contrarian to so much of what the world of skiing has come to stand for.”
I'd been well forewarned of "having to learn to use a nutcracker" but the reality was so much rowdier than I'd expected, it cracked me up. No handles or pomas on these tows, that's much too fancy. Instead, you ski up (usually completely alone) to a speeding rope and grab on. Once up to speed you take a two-piece metal device -the "nutcracker" (attached to a harness around your waist)- flick it artfully around the rope and clamp down on it with your free hand. All this has to be done before you hit the first pulley tower though, or you risk losing a finger. It's so cheap, it's so minimal, it's so contrarian to so much of what the world of skiing has come to stand for. I loved every second of it.
Once up on the hill, Harriet and I positively redefined hot laps all morning in Temple Basin's main bowl. With sunny skies, deep snow, and thinning crowds (as they headed to the hike-to terrain) we crushed an epic morning. I'd be curious to know the speed of one of these rope tows vs a quad, they are not slow. With no lines at the bottom, and no rest at all on the full throttle ride back up, skiing at club fields is not for the faint of heart or weary of leg.
“I didn’t move to New Zealand for full-throttle side country lines, but I will always jump at the chance.”
After a lunch overlooking some of the world's most dramatic mountains, I headed off for the afternoon to explore some of TB's side country with Charlie and his big mountain fiending friends. A boot pack up a knife ridge brings you to the summit of Mt. Temple proper, from there stable snowpack and tasty chutes call your name in every direction. Out back here though it was all self-serviced getting back up, so hiking all out I was able to get in three killer big mountain lines off various aspects of the mountain before sundown. I didn't move to New Zealand for full-throttle side country lines, but I will always jump at the chance.
Night at the club fields is almost as fun as the day of epic skiing. With the hike in most people are loathe to schlep down mid-weekend, so everyone crams in for the night. Two huts positively packed with frothing skiers, including the rowdy ski club from a college in Christchurch; spirits were high as we sank some beers, and laid a plan for the next day.
“With sights set on a real beast, Mt. Phipps.”
By this point, my legs were moving on towards fully cooked and I knew I only had one real hike left in me, so we figured why not send it off in style. I met up with a crew in the hut common area that the morning with sights set on a real beast, Mt. Phipps. It sits towering just west of Mt. Temple and with no real tow access up it, we were looking to be the first group to ski it for the season.
Naturally, the pictures have a tough time doing the climb justice as we moved from open powdery bowls to steep chutes to knife ridges over the course of a nearly 5-hour hike up the imposing mountain. I've done some backcountry skiing in my life, but never true ski mountaineering. Indeed, it was the track of a couple of climbers that had us thinking Phipps in the first place. Boy, was it a whole different ball game. I'd never climbed with an ice ax before but was sure glad to have it as we worked our way steadily up the steep face of the mountain. Only the stable snowpack and the sunny skies kept us fueled on the long trudge up. Once at the top things hit a crescendo as we were faced with a harrowing traverse along the sharp upper ridge to access our scouted chute.
Having finally conquered the beast there wasn't much to do but build a little drop in platform and steel ourselves to send it into a chute that took us almost halfway down the mountain in one go. It all looked so simple from the lodge. Dig a couple pits, get through that throat, then up that ridge, and you'll be skiing this epic chute. Well, it proved more challenging at every turn and the descent kept pace. I pushed off the platform second in line and held on. The extreme pitch of the chute only just balanced out by the encouraging, soft, marine snow. I worked my way down the chute one jump turn at a time with the Southern Alps stretched out all around me. Easily one of the most challenging, beautiful lines I've ever skied.
“The stoke was high as we rolled back in sweaty, exhausted, and victorious first descenders of Mt. Phipps for the year.”
Once we'd all conquered the line from the top we were in for more of a treat as the mountain opened up wide powder fields below in steadily improving snow. By the time we worked our way to the bottom we were ripping fast turns through plenty of fresh with grins from ear to ear. Throughout the whole expedition we were watched by folks at the hut- on "TB TV" as they say- so the stoke was high all around as we rolled back in sweaty, exhausted, and victorious first descenders of Mt. Phipps for the year.
Not a bad way to send off my final New Zealand adventure.
On One Year In New Zealand
As I sit here on a rainy day in Wellington closing in swiftly on the end of my year down south it seems as good a chance as any to wax poetic on my time here on these incredible islands, adrift in the southern ocean.
“I doubt if there’s anywhere else in the world I’d have rather gone.”
If I'm being totally honest I didn't really know what I was signing up for when I booked my tickets to the other side of the world. Sure, we all know some stuff about New Zealand: there's mountains, there's sheep, they've shot some ok films down there, they know how to play a game of rugby. But I was far from an expert on the place. A driving desire to get out and explore the world, and an easy visa, guided my hand. Looking back though, I doubt if there's anywhere else in the world I'd have rather gone.
“All that, and there are still 20 places I’d love to visit that we won’t get the chance to hit.”
This time last year I was enjoying a family trip out in Maine just before departing, and while on one hand this year feels like it's flown by on the other that vacation seems impossibly far in the past. And it's no wonder. I stagger a bit thinking about what this one year has held, I've: hiked world famous trails, surfed with dolphins, canoed through misty jungles, flown around the Matterhorn of the South, fallen asleep to glaciers rumbling down a mountain, drifted through glowworm-filled caves, skied fresh southern pow, kayaked through a tempest, snorkeled golden beaches, ridden more sweet trails than I can count, gazed in awe some of the world's greatest natural wonders, I've been able to call two of the coolest towns on the face of the planet home, and I've made some incredible friends along the way. It is truly hard to believe I've done all that and so much more on a couple of islands which together are smaller than my home state. All that, and there are still 20 places I'd love to visit that we won't get the chance to hit.
As you can imagine, times have not always been as breezy as my posts may make it seem. There have been breakdowns and tight budgets, rain ravaged camps and frozen hikes. We've always known that we're out here making the most of our time but have been haunted by the thought that somehow real life is out there passing us by. Living abroad can be stressful, and at times outright unpleasant, but somehow around every corner New Zealand left us a silver lining to make things more than worth it. Having a steadfast partner in Meredith, with whom to weather the tough days (frequently tough weather!), and to share in the splendor has made the journey all the sweeter.
“I’ll be a proud Coloradoan first and foremost, and when I’m away I’ll miss my people there every day.”
There's not just experiences here, but lessons as well. I've learned the value of friends. You don't really live somewhere until you've made some friends there. In the end it's the people that make the place. It's the perennial traveller's woe, you may choose to stay but many others will choose to move on. It's in keeping your friendships that you keep a place, at a time, alive. After all, you need some folks to trade tall tales with. I've learned a whole new lesson about work. It's too easy to feel untethered in life if you don't create some value in the world. I guess there's a reason why it's called a "Work and Holiday" visa, you need a balance to make them both more valuable. Hell, I've learned lessons about politics. That when you're looking after 5 million people problems become so much more manageable, rather than hoping to solve the problems of 350 million people in one fell swoop. I've learned just how unnecessarily difficult it is to actually live and work in another country, guess that's why only 3% of the world's population live away from home. I've learned the value of stripping back, of how much you really need to call a house, home...it's not much. I've learned about home in a more abstract sense too. Home will always be Colorado, no matter where I journey or where I hang my hat I'll be a proud Coloradoan first and foremost, and when I'm away I'll miss my people there every day.
“I think that’s what counts in life, how much of the world we’re able to soak up in our time on it.”
Most importantly though, I've learned about seeking adventure. It's funny what having such a fixed timeframe on your time in a place does to your priorities. Every day counts. It's driven me out to blunder through frozen mountains, and driven Meredith insane. But still there's an important lesson to be learned here: you can always seek adventure out. Even if it you can't journey far there is always a new way to go, something new to see, a new experience to be had. And in the end I think that's what counts in life, how much of the world we're able to soak up in our time on it.
So, what's next? Mere and I are getting the boot from NZ in just a couple of days, and we've decided to keep the traveling dream alive while we can. In two weeks, we'll be heading to Tasmania to make a new home, make some new friends, and make a whole heap of memories. Word on the street is that Tassie is like New Zealand part 2, so we're excited to get out and explore this new island and our new hometown (we'll be shacking up in Hobart for at least 6 months). From there, who knows? Melbourne seems appealing, and I'm sure we'll get wind of all sorts of must see things around Australia that we won't be able to resist.
That's where we'll be, so if you've never had an excuse to visit Tasmania now you do, and the next post you'll read will be from the true down under!
My Route:
Tips For NZ Travelers:
- If you're looking at skiing near Wanaka you may come across the "Ski4Free" promotion from Jucy for tickets at Treble Cone. This is totally legit, and got your boy two free days on the hill at TC. Do it!
- Seriously, ski field roads can get pretty hairy in adverse conditions, and if you're renting it's probably worth upgrading to proper a 4wd.
- Arguably the best burrito on the island is done out of a food truck in Wanaka...or maybe my discerning taste for Mexican food is just disappearing.
- Christchurch gets a lot of shit, but it's a totally legit base if you like to ski, surf, or mountain bike. Don't discount it.
- Don't skip the Canterbury ski fields. Seriously best value for money on the planet!
- The locals say Temple Basin for side country access, Mt. Olympus for rope tow serviced terrain.
So Long South Island!
To mark the halfway point of our first year we packed our bags and moved north, not before saying so long to the South Island in style!
The Hump Ridge Hustle
It's pretty staggering that we've already surpassed the 6 month mark here way down south. It truly, as expected, has flown by. Now we knew at about this half way point of our visas we'd be heading north and saying so long to Dunedin, so naturally we wanted to send it off in style with some killer trips. Enter the Hump Ridge Track.
“We wanted a little taste of that Gucci tramping action.”
Hump Ridge is a 3 day backpacking track that clings to the very southern edge of Fiordland National Park. It's famous for the quality of the trails, the incredible views, the crushing elevation gain, the time spent in beech forest, and for the fact that despite its quality it's not a "great walk". The whole operation is run by a private trust which means crowd levels stay low and the lodges along the way are next level. After hearing about the blast Mere's mom had on her Ultimate Hike to Milford we wanted a little taste of that gucci tramping action. So, we booked up, packed our bags, and hit the trail.
Now here's the key with Hump Ridge, these private lodges ain't no stinking DOC huts. They're incredibly well serviced and for a couple extra bucks you can book a private room with linens and hot showers provided. That means, for three days our packs were basically just food (with which we went big and did up some really proper tramping meals) and a couple changes of clothes. Talk about living in the lap of luxury.
All that said, Hump Ridge is not for the faint of heart. Each day lays 20k of fresh trail before you, with a climb from the beach up to the bush line and back down thrown in for fun. Day one lured us into a real false sense of security as we meandered down kilometers of wide open beach with nothing but the great southern ocean for company. After about 10k of that lackadaisical nonsense the trail took a hard right turn off the beach and into the beech. Beech trees are likely NZ's second most famous plant (right behind the silver fern of course) they have a rough gray bark and small, round leaves that give any forest a distinct Middle-Earthy feel. They used to cover much of the South Island before people arrived, and now only hold their claim in the most remote regions.
“Without a doubt, we were about as remote as you can get in New Zealand...”
The rest of the day was spent clambering up the side of the epynonymous Hump Ridge. It was quite the scramble over slick roots and craggy outcrops, but rewarded the effort with stunning views overlooking miles of untouched beach stretching away to the horizon. Without a doubt we were about as remote as you can get in New Zealand, being high up on the ridge looking into the wild distance drove this pointedly home.
At the top, our home for the night, Okaka Lodge awaited. The sprawling complex is truly a testament to human ingenuity as it clings inside of a steep hanging valley poking just above bush line to afford maximal views. Here we thanked our stars that we had opted for the private room option as we were greeted with a made up king size bed, fresh towels for the showers, and hot water bottles to keep our tootsies warm in the cold mountain night. We chef'd up our high-brow camping fare and settled down to have a chat with our fellow hikers as the sun set and clouds swirled around the valley below.
“This is New Zealand wood at it’s finest, nothing but silver beech, silver fern, and bird song.”
Day two on Hump Ridge is the flagship stretch to be sure. Having knocked out nearly all of your vertical gain on day one there's nothing left to do but walk all the way back down the ridge to the sea. I'm told the views are stunning with desolate southern coast stretching away on either side. However due to some classic kiwi cloud cover we were treated to a more misty experience. That said, the hike was incredible. If there's one other famous aspect of the track it's definitely the boardwalks on day two. Kilometers on kilometers of wooden bridges make the trail most of the way down the ridge to help protect the fragile soils. It makes for incredibly cruise-y hiking and allows for maximal enjoyment of the untouched, stunted beech forest that covers the lower ridge. This is New Zealand wood at it's finest, nothing but silver beech, silver fern, and bird song. A world of misty grays and deep, ponderous greens.
We wrapped the day with a breezy walk along an old logging tram line to the cosy Port Craig Lodge where we were treated to a nearly identical experience as at Okaka. We could get dangerously used to camping like this. After a little dolphin chasing at the nearby bay, sore legs and tired bodies had us following the sun right to bed.
Hump Ridge ends with a breezy, dreamlike 20k jaunt along the southern coast through more unspoiled beech forest and ragged coast. We were left sore, gassed, and blissfully smiling at one of the finest hikes we may ever do. It's not a hike for the unfit, or the faint of heart, but if you're looking for a step back in time to see what New Zealand was like untouched by man you can't skip Hump Ridge.
South Island Send-Off
Following our unforgettable experience on Hump Ridge there wasn't much left to do in the far southern reaches other than pack our things and bid a fond, fond farewell to our lives in Dunedin. It may have only been six months but it we're certain the friends we made in our brief time there will last a lifetime. Many folks may poo-poo Dunedin, they may tell you to skip it for more popular tourist destinations, but I'm telling you now much of what makes New Zealand such an amazing country is writ small in this tiny city clinging to the edge of the world.
“So we shoved all of our worldly possessions into the ol’ RAV and hit the road.”
Nevertheless, the agenda drove us on. So we shoved all of our worldly possessions into the ol' RAV (which anymore is just about as much as she can physically fit) and hit the road. First stop, visiting some friends in Christchurch. As NZ's 3rd largest city Christchurch certainly is a sprawling affair, with arguably the least sensible urban design on the planet, but for all that it still is a lovely town. With the huge volcanic hills of the Banks Peninsula just south and the beginning of what I'm convinced is the world's longest black sand beach heading north, you'd be hard pressed to find another town with such easy access to such a diversity of terrain. We spent some time wandering the steep hills overlooking the ocean, and appreciating the fine things a larger town can provide (good gardens, museums, and restaurants among them). That said, it is still very much a town in recovery. Large earthquakes in 2011 left much of downtown in piles of rubble and rebuilding efforts are still heavily underway, but as our local friends point out that just means all the new buildings will be modern and nice, a bit of a rarity for NZ.
The next day we kept up the northern trek and stopped off in the beach town of Kaikoura, which is where I developed my "longest black sand beach" hypothesis. The volcanic sands start in Christchurch and head north for hundreds of miles past Kaikoura up to the tip of the island. Record or not, it was a great place for a little beach camping with the waves crashing just over the dunes lulling us to sleep.
“There’s something very Kiwi about a major highway that barely clutches to the mountainsides”
We needed the rest too, because the next day held some of the most overwhelmingly epic driving we've done to date. We followed Highway 1 north, where the road is cut into the mountain slopes of the Kaikoura Range just before they plunge into the Pacific. It's hours of remote roadway with the waves never more than a couple meters away on one side and stark cliffs rising out of sight on the other. Driving the mountain passes into the central South Island are certainly an eyeful in their own way, but there's something very Kiwi about a major highway that barely clutches to the mountainsides above the waves.
Once we made our way up north Mere and I had a chat and decided that we didn't need to run around like maniacs for the last couple days on the island seeing every site that we could think of that we missed. Certainly, we did not hit it all, but we took a really solid cross section of what New Zealand has to offer. With that in mind, we took some incredible days to explore the Marlborough Sounds in depth. We hit them on our way south but had them mostly spoiled by weather, so it was good this tropical corner of the country in summer proper. Thus our penultimate days were spent driving windy, windy roads, relaxing beside aquamarine waters, and enjoying that southern sunshine.
We did leave one special treat set aside for our last day though. The northern tip of the South Island is world-famous for its vineyards, specifically for producing the world's finest Sauvignon Blanc. In the small town of Renwick one can visit something like 30 of these vineyards within 15 kilometers or so. This quality and proximity has naturally led the development of one of the most "Griffin" tourist attractions in the country. Biking wine tours.
“...and food (oh the food!)”
We pitched tent outside a friendly hostel in town, rented Mere a bike and hit the wine trail. While this all sounds very similar to my annual biking brewery tours what went down for us was a far, far classier affair. Each vineyard's tasting room, or "Cellar Door" in kiwi terminology, tries to outdo the last with incredible architecture, views over the vines, curated wine tastings, and food (oh the food!). So we cycled our happy asses through all the vines, sampled some of the world's most enlightened vintages, snacked, laughed, and generally basked in the glow of how glorious our final days on this glorious island were.
Come morning, we cruised up to Picton and caught the ferry north to our new hometown, Wellington. Welly sits, very conveniently, at the southern tip of the North Island, it is New Zealand's second largest (and capital) city, it is a harbor town known for its hills, its food, its wind, and its San Francisco-y vibe. When we visited on our way south we quickly fell in love. It's a highly walk, bike, and bus-able town with a truly bustling downtown and tons to offer us in the coming months, including the prospect of more serious (and potentially longer term) work. For now though, we've settled into a (miraculously) rented out family home about 10 minutes ride from the city center with a couple of roommates and a dog named Humphrey. I'll be plying my trade as a mechanic at the uber-hip commuter, and coffee centric shop Bicycle Junction right downtown, as we rest up and prepare for our first North Island adventures.
Our Route:
Tips For Prospective NZ Travelers:
- If you're doing the Hump Ridge, just go ahead and pony up for a private room right at the outset and you don't even have to bother bringing any sleeping or cooking gear.
- Buy frozen steaks from the store the morning before your big hike, they'll thaw perfectly in your pack for cooking on night 1. We learned this watching smart Canadians implement this trick as we ate our pasta.
- Don't drive anywhere in Christchurch during rush hour...better yet, don't ever drive in Christchurch.
- If you have the chance to drive Highway 1 down the coast from Blenheim, do it. Not as mountainous as the pass routes, but it is staggeringly stark in its own way.
- Picton is totally more than just a place to get off the interisland ferry, it's a cool little town to hang around and grab a meal or two in.
- When doing the cycling wine tour in Marlborough, a couple tips:
- Start early. Most tasting rooms are open 10-4.
- Consider just doing every winery on the "close in loop" you can be pedaling for a long time to get anywhere else.
- Just get a cutesy Airbnb that's all adorably set amongst the vines and whatnot, other lodging options in Renwick are grim.
- Seriously consider renting one of the two-seater pedal carts.
- If you can make it, finish at Moa Brewing. They're open past 4, and you'll feel right at home in the welcoming arms of a sweet ass brewery after an exhausting day of wine snobbery. - If you've got the weather for it don't spend any time in the ship on the interisland ferry.
- DO. NOT. SKIP. THE. SOUTH. ISLAND.
The Cloud Piercer
In January the South Island adventures continue at full speed. In this edition hiking with glaciers, petrified forests, and a trip to Pelennor Fields.
Aoraki (n): A way better name than Mt. Cook
After our little travel hiatus over the holidays Mere and I were naturally chomping at the bit to get back out on the road and make the most of these sunny southern days. Fortunately, a recently gifted Lord Of The Rings filming location tour provided the perfect opportunity for us to get out and check out a major National Park we haven't checked off yet, Mt. Cook.
The aforementioned LOTR tour I got for Meredith as a little Christmas surprise, it tours the primary filming location for the scenes on Pelennor Fields just outside the little town of Twizel. The town itself isn't much to write home about, just your standard NZ one-horse town that just happens to sit in open fields flanked by the Southern Alps, a juxtaposition that defined the visual vocabulary so forcefully for the films. The tour was a bit of a renegade operation, just one very enthusiastic tour guide, a bus, and us bouncing across the golden fields of Gondor. We opted for the twilight tour so we were able to wave around replica (and one real) props, take goofy pictures, and sip some wine as the sun set over the Alps. While the location may not be the most exciting, I have to tip my hat to our guide, Dawn, some curated factoids and accompanying film screenshots can take a site visit from hum-drum to exciting.
At first light the next morning we packed our things and hit the road, we had some serious sightseeing to do. Just a quick jaunt north from Twizel sits Mt. Cook National Park, which knocks your socks off right from the get-go. You turn off the highway into the heart of the mountains, come over a rise and one of New Zealand's most iconic vistas opens before you. The still waters of glacier-carved Lake Pukaki stretch away before you reflecting the highest peak in the land, Aoraki.
Aoraki is the Maori name for Mt. Cook, and its romanticized meaning for non-Maori speakers is "The Cloud Piercer". Upon learning this tidbit we decided to do away with this "Mt. Cook" nonsense for well and good. With such a grandiose name you know it is quite the peak. All of the surrounding mountains are truly impressive in their own right but all pale in comparison to this craggy peak, flanked by brilliant glaciers, reflected in the morning light rising over still waters. Thus, was our drive to the Mt. Cook Township. Mountains towering, lake shimmering, jaws hitting the steering wheel.
Closing in on the township you begin to realize just how different these mountains are than what we have back in Colorado. Yes, they are quite a bit shorter, Aoraki tops out at 12,218 ft, but god damn are they dramatic. Every mountainside is nearly a sheer cliff rising up to the glaciers that carved this beautiful landscape above. Driving into the township the cliff walls loom so imposingly above the smattering of buildings as to make the sky seemingly disappear. What a place to pitch our tent for the night.
The glaciers truly set this place apart, capping every peak around you, constantly grinding down the rock into fine "glacial flour". The main campsite in the park sits on the valley floor but looks thousands of feet up to the glaciers slowly, inexorably, descending. At all hours of the day, you can hear bits of the ice breaking off and cascading down the valley in an avalanche to create a thunder-like background rumble. So, once the tent was up we set out to get a little closer.
In a world of such vertical disparities "getting a little closer" means a whole lot of steps. We headed out on the Sealy Tarns track that climbs the canyon wall offering better views of the ice that clings to the slopes of Mt. Sefton. At the outset of the track, a hand-carved notice on the bottom step helpfully informs prospective hikers "Only 1,619 steps to go!"...Thanks for the encouragement kind stranger. Nevertheless Mere and I soldiered on up, up, and up urged along at every turn by ever-changing views to the glaciers, over the cloud-grey lakes (due to all the sediment), and down the valley. We hit the mid-way lookout just as storm clouds began rolling over the far ridge and had just enough time for a little PB&J and photo break before we had to boogie back down. One. Step. At. A. Time.
After a harrowing evening enduring chaotic mountain weather, from pounding rain to wind howling down from the peaks, in which our Kelty home-away-from-home really proved its mettle, we set out to get a closer look at the glacial lakes we had seen from above. Hooker & Tasman Lakes likely are two of the best examples of "proglacial" lakes anywhere in the world, and between a morning run and a midday hike I was able to check both of them out on our second day in the park. New Zealand is well known for its "braided" rivers that snake their turquoise lengths to the sea without ever becoming very wide or deep. These lakes are where they begin. Only here the sediment aka. "glacial flour" is so cloudy that the waters take on the slate grey hues of the rocks that surround them. On both lakes, small icebergs had shorn off and floated across chipping away at the galaciers up valley one bit at a time, a process that has sped up considerably since the formation of the lakes in the 1970s.
While the power of the glaciers surrounding Aoraki cannot be denied, they also come with a sense of melancholy loss. These formations that have sculpted the mountains so beautifully are truly in their dying days. Visual guides over Tasman Lake showed us just how much ice my parents would've seen on their trip through New Zealand in the 80s, or how much ice early explorers would have encountered, and it becomes painfully apparent that these glaciers are a dying breed. With the loss of the glaciers, over the millennia the mountains will soften, become less dramatic, and slowly lose their iconic look as water replaces ice as the dominant force of erosion. It makes me incredibly grateful to be out here to witness the carving of the Alps while I still can.
Porpoises, Penguins & Petrified Wood.
Since we had been on a bit longer of a travel hiatus than originally intended Meredith and I decided to head out the next week as well to country we visited in the early spring, The Catlins. To refresh your memory, The Catlins are rainforested hills that cover the southernmost reaches of the island. We appreciated our first trip out there and wanted to check things out in the height of summer, during a Southland "heatwave" nonetheless.
Heatwave in a rainforest along the 46th parallel south means "blistering" highs of 80 degrees and a few consecutive days without rain. Seriously, I think the mild climate has made most Kiwis incapable of temperature extremes, anything over 73 is unthinkably hot and below 38 may as well be Antarctic. For us, it made pleasant weather to cruise through the forest to check out a couple waterfalls for lunch and make our way to the southernmost point on the island, Slope Point. It wasn't much to see, just some seacliffs and wide open ocean, but it was still cool that if we ever wanted to head further south our options would be NZ's Stewart Island (which we likely won't do), Tierra Del Fuego, or Antarctica.
That afternoon we headed to the aptly named Porpoise Bay to camp along one of the prettiest beaches we've seen to date. Porpoise Bay is a very large, very circular beach with pristine white sands wrapping almost 270 degrees around. For rookie surfers like me, it can be an almost ideal break as a large head up near the campground shelters the beach and the waves gradually grow as the beach continues down. So, I grabbed the board and marched on down to some waves that looked manageable while Mere enjoyed some fine Southland sun rays. True to its name Porpoise Bay delivered when a couple of playful Hector's Dolphins came and splashed around in the surf a couple yards away from where I was getting rinsed.
Since there's never a dull moment way down south we took off on a short hike after dinner to the seaward coast side of the campground, an area called Curio Bay. Named for the great collection of petrified wood that sits in its tidal flats Curio Bay offers more than just that, namely penguins. As the sun set, campers headed down to the bay to watch some of the local Hoiho (rare NZ penguins with yellow stripes by their eyes, and a penchant for squawking, hence their Maori name meaning "noise maker") come in to roost for the evening. We saw a couple of them from afar as they began their cute yet perilous journey across the petrified forest to their nests in the dunes. We were happy enough to see the little guys from a ways away but had a special treat on the walk back to the tent when we came across several more nesting penguins in the dunes. Fortunately, the enterprising campground owners set up mesh netting along the walkway so that stumbling campers wouldn't scare away any sleepy penguins, and we were able to get an intimate view of papa penguin coming home after a long day fishing. Not bad for a days work way down south.
Our Route:
As Far South As South Goes
We kicked off our New Zealand adventure with a trip to the south, the deep south. All the way from Auckland to Dunedin.
A Few Days In Auckland To Get Us Started
Our adventure began with likely the easiest international flight we will ever experience, no joke. Meredith will be sure to expound on the virtues of the Air New Zealand Sky Couch to all within earshot, for good reason. We slept a solid 9 hours of the flight, leaving just enough time to drink a few free Steinlagers, watch a movie and fill out our customs forms. The funny thing about flying around the world, at least this way, is that between sleeping on the plane and a 6 AM arrival time, you weirdly wind up back on the right schedule.
The first 5 days off the plane were to be spent in Auckland with two major points on the agenda: sightseeing, and (somewhat more critically) car shopping. On day one we really proved that while Auckland may have unparalleled levels of suburban sprawl you really can walk around most of downtown in one day. We shacked up with the Airbnb hostus-with-the-mostus, Phil. A designer whose company and trendy place in Grey Lynn made us question why we were in such a rush to get out of the city. On our sightseeing adventures, we got some good time down by the harbor, checked out some sweet art galleries (including the stunning Toi o Tamaki gallery with Phil), and (unsurprisingly) fell in love with the Ponsonby neighborhood- Auckland's RiNo Arts District (TM).
Unfortunately, a good portion of our time in Auckland was spent in used-car-buying hell. We spent a truly unseemly amount of time learning the city's transit system as we visited far-flung suburbs around the area on the hunt for my ever-sought-after Toyota RAV4. I'll spare you the nitty-gritty details, but after rounds of test driving and mechanic inspections we bought a beautiful, cerulean 1995 RAV; we named her Baarbra Ann, and she has yet to miss a beat.
With our new whip loaded up with our heaps of bags (how exactly does one pack for a year of traveling?), it was time to bid the big-city adieu and begin our trek south.
A Verdant Route Down The North Island
First stop, naturally, for any new kiwi explorers. Hobbiton. Yes because we had to, and yes because it was awesome, but also because we weren't sure we'd make it back that far north in our travels. The movie set is just an hour south of the city so it made a pretty good first stop. They have that place running like a clock. Coach buses cart tours on the half hour to the guided jaunt around all the hobbit holes, where you sadly learn that, yes, it is just a movie set. Not much more than a bunch of round doors stuck in the hills. For all that, though there were great touches around every corner, and we got to learn how much of dick Sir Peter Jackson really is on set (Meredith says "he's just PARTICULAR!"). At the end of the tour, they bring you into the immaculately done Green Dragon Inn for a pint of their exclusively brewed beer. We stepped into the inn right as it started pissing down rain, which really added a nice touch to the experience.
Our first night out of the city we decided to ease into the whole camping thing and stayed at the Waikite Hot Springs outside of Rotorua. A mistake, it was not. Turns out September really is winter still in New Zealand and things got a bit chilly. Luckily our tent was pitched next to steaming pools for us to chase away the chill in.
The next day we took a true turn off the beaten track as we headed through Te Urewera (Maori for 'burnt penis', no joke) National Park. This little escapade took us into some of the North Islands highest mountains and past a truly spectacular lake. It also took us far away from sealed roads, into the depths of an unreal hailstorm, and into a full appreciation for our trusty new 4wd whip. I foolishly had thought we might actually be able to camp up there, but the reality of weather sent us quickly scurrying for lower elevations. In all, we wound up at the gorgeous Lake Tutira Campground (arguably the best campsite we've visited) where we got to look back at the snowy mountains rather than sleep in them. Let's chalk that up as a win.
From Tutira we blazed trail south through Hawke's Bay and down to the southern tip of the North Island. After a quick visit to the Martinborough wine region, we headed to the Putanguira Pinnacles. Ya know, the place where Aragorn walked into the mountain to meet the army of the dead? Yeah, we were picking camping spots based on LOTR filming locations - what of it?! It was a cool spot where we earned a healthy amount of respect for the amount movie magic can accomplish (read: it looked nothing like the movie). It all kind of paled in comparison to the next day though where we went to the true southern tip at Cape Palliser and Meredith had a chance to enter seal nirvana with the local colony. It's not every day you get to see seal pups splashing around in a tide pool, the lighthouse in the background was just for bonus scenery points. After that, it was off to lunch in Rivendell (shooting location) where we gained even more respect for movie magic and a fair bit of wonder at the NZ governments willingness to say "Sure Peter, you can cut all those trees down for that shot". Basically, it was sightseeing until we headed to our Airbnb in Wellington.
Wellington, well what can I say? Meredith will tell you it's like if Seattle and San Francisco had a kid, but that kid was a little person. We loved the harbor town in the short time we were there, and we'll likely head back at some point. Very scenic, very hilly, with a ton to see and do in a very small space. We headed out to the (kind of bogus) Weta Workshop tour to get even more of our LOTR nerd on. But even the guide there pointed us in the right direction to Te Papa, The Museum Of New Zealand, where the latest exhibit Gallipoli was causing quite a stir.
Us uneducated yanks quickly learned that Gallipoli was kind of the breaking point for New Zealand and Australia from the British Empire during World War I. Where poor decision-making by British generals cost thousands of Kiwi and Aussie lives in an ultimately pointless, and failed, campaign. To bring this story to life the team at Weta took stories from the battle and recreated the soldiers in stunning detail. And at three times human size. In each room , you'd marvel at these physically larger than life sculptures as their story was told. Even for two people who'd never even heard of the battle it was a powerful experience, and the best museum exhibit either of us had ever seen.
We filled the rest of our time in Wellington sampling local craft brews, putting the finishing touches on our camping supplies and getting ready to take the ferry south.
Sunny Days On The South Island
The Cook Strait ferry crossing is quite the experience in itself. We booked on the early morning sail and arrived with Baabs loaded before the sun was up. The ferries are huge so they'd spent hours before loading passenger cars putting a line of semis onto the parking decks. We just zipped right on and headed up to the passenger deck for the crossing. We luckily got a very calm day with only enough clouds to add a little visual interest to the view. The crossing takes 3.5 hours and only a little more than an hour of which is actually out in the straight, turns out it's not that far between the islands and ambitious folk swim it like the English Channel. The rest was spent navigating the lovely Wellington Harbor, and more notably cruising the awesome Marlborough Sounds to Picton.
After stocking up in Picton we headed into Marlborogh Sounds National Park proper for a doosy of a drive and some spectacular views. Getting anywhere in the sounds takes way longer than one might think when looking at a map, as the roads wind endlessly down the walls of the glacier-carved sounds. Not that we minded, the views around every bend were unreal. Unfortunately, after a clear morning, a heavy storm moved in which sent us running to a backpackers hostel. On the plus side, we wound up in the lovely Mistletoe Bay with a whole house to ourselves and a fire to cozy up by as we thanked our lucky stars that we decided not to brave the rain.
The next day would likely be the most stunning drive of our road trip south. From all the way up in the sounds (basically the northernmost tip of the island) across the Southern Alps and down to the little mountain town of Hanmer Springs. The morning was spent traversing the famous vineyards of the Marlborough region as they reached higher and higher into the hills. A quick lunch at some roadside falls, and we drove up and over the range nearly all the way to snow line before heading to Hanmer for a little warmer camping.
In the morning we got back on the road and strategically took the scenic inland route avoiding Christchurch for more epic vistas of the snowy mountains and VERY Rohan-ish plains. We were really putting the pedal to the metal in trying to keep to our timeline, so mostly we were driving, soaking in the sights, and making pages of notes on trips we would make once we had our home-base setup.
Finally, after two weeks on the road, we arrived at our new hometown of Dunedin, Otago. A college town at the end of the incredibly scenic Otago Harbor near the southern tip of the island. It's a fun town surrounded by stunning (albeit cold) beaches and rolling hills, plus it puts us in a great place to venture around the South Island on long-weekend trips.
So, that's the plan. Work a couple days in a row and then get out of dodge, taking 3-4 day trips to every corner of the island. We'll be taking plenty of pictures along the way and my goal is to keep you updated about every two weeks with where we've gone and what we've seen. More to come very soon!
Our Route
Tips For Prospective NZ Travelers
In case (by some miracle) you stumbled upon my blog and are traveling to New Zealand, here are some insights we've learned along the way:
- If you're on a Working-Holiday Visa, really all you need in hand is your visa to get through customs. Even then it's all computerized so you might not even need that much.
- In customs, you'll hear that they want to take a look at your camping equipment. Declare it all, even if they bring it in for further inspection it only takes like 20 minutes. Also, pack it so it's easy to take out.
- Ubers are WAY cheaper than taxis here, at least in Auckland and Wellington where they currently operate.
- Kiwi Bank will let you open an account from them while overseas, and while it is a pain in the ass it's actually easier than doing it once you're here and have no permanent address. Sidenote: Kiwi Bank is a branch of the NZ postal service so all their branches are in Post Shops, it's weird but actually really convenient.
- When you do need to have items sent to you while you're moving around you can do counter delivery at NZ Post Shops. It works quite well actually. I did it to get my ownership paperwork for the car, worked like a charm. You can even pick a post shop for a place you will be and just roll in when you arrive.
- It takes way longer than you'd think to drive anywhere. Add 1.5-2 hours to any day-long drive from the Google Maps estimate.
- Related, download all of NZ map data to your offline Google Maps while you have wifi. You won't have service in many places.
- September is still winter down here, it will be rainy and pretty cold. Duh.