Aoraki/Mt.Cook

AORAKI/Mt.COOK

Beauty.

Definitions vary.

Poems are written.

Concepts regarding the aesthetics of beauty have yet to convincingly appear in mankind's language.

Most of us do not care as long as we get the feeling.

The feeling.

Cheryl, Sam, Nate, and Tom approached a lesson in beauty on that day.

      The rented Subaru station wagon responded by burning more premium fuel.  Weaving through the glacial divots and valleys of the "Southern Alps", the AA map led them to another destination, Aoraki/Mt.Cook.  Stopping at Wanaka the night before, a refreshing respite was spent at the Purple Cow youth hostel.  Overlooking the Mt. Aspiring National Park, Wanaka's main street venison pizza and pulled pork sandwiches recharged them.  The hostel filled with people from the world. The following morning the highest peak in New Zealand was clearly outlined on the map.

      Increased numbers of mountain sport and outdoor activity outlets became evident.  Eventually a left turn off Highway 8 onto SH 80 allowed early glimpses of splendor.  Lake Pukaki and her silky amazing color lie in the forefront while the mountains lined up behind protecting her western border…..Nature's centurions guarding a beautiful woman.  Several stops along the way ensued stirred by the awe of the scene.  Or, by the Subaru's self-navigation similar to a horse that senses when to stop by virtue of past trips.  The beauty intensified as the travelers approached Mt.Cook Village.  This may have been a perfect day in a perfect place.

Sam, Cheryl, and Nate having a very good day

       Tom had to make the pilgrimage to Mt.Cook.  Considering the innumerable places already seen, he knew this place was essential to complete the New Zealand adventure requirements.  In 1973 his cousin, Neill Shannon, took time and traveled to several places in the southern hemisphere seeking new friendships and interesting places.  Neill Shannon was 23.  He met a Kiwi also enthused about outdoor adventures including mountain climbing.  The two apparently had a couple practice ascents and then headed to Mt. Cook.  In December, while his parents waited for him in London to celebrate the Holidays, he and his cohort began climbing Mt.Tasman and then planned to cross a ridge to Mt.Cook.  What went wrong remains an unknown.  The two young men fell over 1200 ft.  Their bodies recovered the next day. 

      Molly first discovered the memorial to fallen climbers in her travels several years earlier and delivered reports of the documentation regarding the episode back to the family.  Tom needed to see the region.  Topographic maps at the ranger-visitor center combined with the detailed description of the accident location filled his nagging curiosity.  The memorial contains over 200 names and the stories of lost climbers on Mt.Cook. 

      Did these climbers err in judgement?  Were they recipients of "bad luck" while pushing themselves to their maximum potentials? Did the alluring beauty of the mountain draw them beyond reason?  Do humans climb mountains to quench the feeling of beauty?

      In January of 2014, the mountain appeared to be a majestic friend to Cheryl, Sam, Nate and Tom.  A friend deserving of spiritual respect and not to be angered nor ignored.

       Aoraki was one of the sons of the Sky Father according to Maori legend.  Aoraki and his brothers went to visit their step-mother, Earth Mother for a chat one day.  Upon return, their canoe upended and the cold winds of the south froze them and turned them to stone forming the Southern Alps.  Aoraki maintains his name along with Captain Cook's on the mountain by virtue of a political agreement.

A tramp from the visitation center leading to the base of Aoraki/Mt.Cook was named the Hooker Trail.  Cheryl reassured Tom that she had no idea how that name occurred.  The four took off being drawn by day, the sky, the path, and the mountain.  It became windy as the group encroached up the valley.  Suspension bridges allowed traversing across the wild stream following into Lake Pukaki's arms.  With the wind and Tom's lack of proprioception and tendency to height phobia, he became the weak link.  Sam, Nate, and Cheryl led him out while the                                                                                                      
mountain centurions sneered with disgust.
 
      After supper, the stars were observed for a short period and another day glorified.

And then it was time to leave

              

           
      Leaving Aoraki/Mt.Cook seemed just as magnificent.  Lake Pukaki resumed her position.  The sun kept the vision clear.  The mountain bid us farewell.  The definition of Beauty remained obscure, but the  group feels her more clearly.

    
      On they drove to Christchurch where Nate returned to America.  Sam, Cheryl, and Tom pressed on through the grandeur of New Zealand's South Island.                                                                

Doubtful Sound

THE DOUBTFUL SOUND

               From the MV Southern Secret negotiating the waters of Fiordland's Doubtful Sound


       The days of North Island exploration for Nate and Sam included beach days at Waihi and Pauanui, geothermal and geyser siting at Rotorua and Waimrangu, marketplace roaming through many small sites.  Plans and preparations cleared for the journey to the South Island.
       Tom stopped working for a week.  Cheryl, Sam, Nate, and Tom drove to Auckland, left the Corolla in a carpark in hopes that it would be stolen, and climbed abroad a Jet Star flight to Queenstown.  The south island adventure center where young vivacious adults seek reckless activities.  Due to her previous experience of recklessness, Cheryl led the group through the mountain town.

      Sitting on the shore of one of the enormous south alpine lakes, gold was the drawing card to settle the area in the 1860's.  The leisure industry took over in the 1950's developing a robust town with wind, land, and water recreation year round.

      A stout Subaru station wagon allowed a mode  of transportation.  With at least 4 cylinders working, downhill cruising functioned well.

Fergburgers served as a fuel station for the four.  The sky as blue as Sam's Cubs shirt; gear packed and goodies stuffed;  satisfaction.  A drive up the road along Lake Wakatipu allowed a family picture opportunity.  The setting augments the pose, at least a little.

Then they headed southwest to the land known as the Fiordlands.  Foreboding.  Few humans.  Sand flies. No Fergburgers.  Fog? Fury? Fantasy?

Te Anau functions as the deportation point into the Fiordland.  The four spent the first night in the youth hostel overlooking Lake Te Anau.  The first bus loaded the group early next morning to begin a journey to the unknown.  In 1770 Captain Cook apparently chose not to navigate the area of the Fiordlands.  Too narrow?  Too mystical?  Too frightening?  Too doubtful?  …..The Doubtful Sound.
                                                                                                                                                               
No roads lead directly to the destiny.  One requires
help.    The bus brought them to Lake Manapouri and the next trip aboard a powered ship across the lake.  After an hour the lake became more isolated.  The rain and mist followed.  A final bus ride took the group over a pass on pitted, winding, gravel rodes with drop-offs to rival bungy jumps.  The MV Southern Secret awaited them.  A cabin cruiser capable of 12 passengers with a crayfish lunch set before them.

 Off the mooring and into the sound with low hanging clouds, mist and a chilly rain ran the Southern Secret.  The beauty was large, looming, and seductive.  Each bend revealed areas veiled by curtains of mist and silhouettes of nameless cliffs and waterfalls.






                                                                                 

The beauty summoned the Secret further into the waters of Doubt.  Awed occupants moved in and out of the deck.  Intermittent moments of dazzle seemed to occur continuously.








                                                                                 
Time came to investigate the surroundings more
carefully.  The scouting group made their way to nearby isolated isles, inlets, and vegetation.  No hidden treasure found, they moved as a group of goslings eventually finding the safe haven of mother ship.








 At times the vegetation grow so heavy that the root system failed to hold and tree avalanches would occur.  So much fresh water colored brown from the tannins poured into the waters that a layer of fresh water actually lay over the salt water.  The only time that the blue or teal colored water was not evident.





                                                     
Following the kayaking,  Captain Adam pulled the Secret into a cove and the fishing poles came out.  The fish were hungry.  Sam and Nate and few other fishermen appeared to be quit active.  Tom fed the fish without them harming themselves on his hook.

Nate caught many.  Nothing worth keeping.  He did win the prize for the smallest, ugliest fish.


Everyone battled the rain, but it felt like real fishing.

 Sam also had an active hook.  He seemed to be able to convince Nellie, the cook and Adam's mate, to bait his line.  he caught the only worthwhile fish…a blue cod.  Nellie cooked it for him, of course, and it was the best tasting fish in his visit.

   The following morning Adam brought up his crayfish cages successfully in preparation for the nest crew.










                                                                           

After a night sleeping aft dawn opened on the Doubtful.  No doubt.  The mist opened slightly.  Enough to paint the sky.










Waterfalls were ubiquitous throughout the sound.  Due to the rain, more falls poured out of the cliffs and mountains.  The effect increased the mist and added to the auditory dimension.  Most areas yet untouched.  The entire area of the Fiordland remains a national forest with wilderness designation.

 Nate and Sam finished the Doubtful Sound with the lifting of the clouds.  Southwest New Zealand had successfully been explored and appreciated.

"Eerie, but another awesome" sayeth Sam the traveler.

                        They left the Doubtful Sound and reversed the track that brought them into the isolated world.  The massive region of beauty remains a challenge to find and hopefully will continue to be so.                                                            

Alpine Crossing

The Alpine Crossing

      Cheryl watched the weather reports.  Nate arrived on January 5.  The initial big ticket event loomed ahead---another Great Walk.  But the weather was not obedient.  When Mother Nature and Mother Cheryl disagree, a negotiation ensues.  Ideally Nate could utilize a day to adjust his biorhythms to the time change. Rain and wind were forecasted for the days best suited to give Nate a rest.  In the same manner General Eisenhower called for the troops to rally on D-day, Cheryl mobilized her invasion of the Tongariro.  Nate landed in Auckland.  He spent enough time in Thames to unload his gear.  Then, back in the car.  Liz Ulenburg and friend Janette, neighbors Kari and Nick joined Cheryl, Sam and tired Nate as a formidable expeditionary force.  Sleeping in a ski lodge the night before,  the group moved into position through the gates of "Mordor".



Considered one of the World's greatest single day walks, the Tongariro National Park Alpine Crossing encompasses volcanos Ruapehu, Ngauruhoe and Tongariro.  The 19.4 km crossing provides background and setting for Lord of the Rings' Mordor.

                                                                                                       

 Several ecosystems and geologic formations evolved within the park.  Daughter Molly successfully completed the adventure five years ago.  Luke and Tom complete the mission when opportunity presents.
Sam demonstrates  the 3 volcanos, a little bigger than 2 arm spans.











Mother Nature opened her skies.  The decision to charge the mountain worked.  The Expeditionary Force took to the trail where "women glow and men plunder".

Nate and Sam moved like grizzled pathfinders.









Like human ants lined up for spiritual honey, the paths filled, but moved continuously.  Explorers from all over the world moved up and down the park.  Well into the trail Nate encountered the people he sat by on the flight to Auckland.












Turquoise, aquamarine, and azure volcanic lakes sprang along the crossing.  Volcanic rock or volcanic dust layered the paths.

Cheryl takes a moment to instruct the men in proper tramping technique.









Eight hours later the group finished.  Despite the demands, everyone held together quite nicely.  Nate finally did get caught up on a nap.  Everyone's boots and shoes performed with only a few blisters.









With the Alpine Crossing now conquered, Cheryl earned another merit badge.  The distinguished "Our Matron of the Mountain" award!

Sam and Nate peer from another perspective at her grit, while they view the magnificence of Mother Nature under the Equator.

     "Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.  Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.  The winds will blow freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like falling leaves"  John Muir.
     
      "It was amazing."  Sam

                                THE ALPINE CROSSING EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

                                      Nate, Nick, Sam, Cheryl, Kari, Janette, Liz

2014

2014

Another notch in the belt of time.
Or, another belt in the notch of time?
The world appears to want to spin for an additional year.
So spin splendidly along we go.




      Cheryl and Tom continue to chase the glories of New Zealand.  Sam joined them and began his chase on Christmas Eve.  The schedule has been full.  Christmas in Hastings with the Willis Family, adventure rafting along the Rangitiki River, tramping to the Pinnacles, attending local horse races, boogie boarding in the Pacific, wandering through the Maritime Museum, exploring Hobbiton.  Sam had signed up for a social-geographical-anthopologic extravaganza.

Sam met his parents at Auckland International Airport and stuffed himself into the Corolla.  Four hours later he found himself in Hastings-Napier on the east coast.  Awaiting him were the Willis', who served him a generous portion of Christmas goodness.  Then took him to the longest church service in the southern hemisphere.  Cultures from everywhere in Oceania performed.  He realized the service was fun days later when the jet lag wore off.  Chris soothed the lag with his own beer label.

Dawn worked for months honing the Christmas cake.  She is now entered into the Christmas Cake Hall of Fame.  Her secret not revealed, but had something to do with the liquid flavoring splashed on the creation for months before the cutting.  This moment captured on film will be the cover of "Bon Appetit" in future issues.

Angela and Dawn combined for pavlova.  Another masterpiece of fine eating.  A couple months of Ramen noodles came to a glorious halt upon arrival in Hastings.  This theme continued for a generous three days.

And they were fatter and happier.

Sam ( not Samwise Gamgee ) and Cheryl roamed the North Island finding more fantastic sites, some of which were surreal.  A farm changed into Hobbiton with the movie and Peter Jackson's imagination and money.  The farm, located 90 minutes south of Thames offered a fitting beginning to the saga of Sam's trek through Middle Earth.  The detail of the setting impressed the fine eye of Hobbit critiques.   The sun shone on the shire.  Satisfied.

      The Rangitiki River provides a class 5 rafting experience.  Cheryl, riding high on her successful adrenalin lifestyle, signed the group up for the chance.  They drove through sheep country, evading ewes and rams and big puffy ones,  while keeping a close view of the gravel mountain roads.  An auto break down would mean at least a 20 k walk for Cheryl to get assistance.

     Sam practiced his river transportation system while awaiting the rafting bus to take us up river.











         Working as a well-wired rafting machine, the trio wound down the turbulent waters.  The canyon clouded and crisp raindrops cascaded bringing a jungle environment to the experience.  Everyone managed to stay in the boat.  Only 4 people have died on the river since 1980.
They stayed at the lodge that night and savored the experience with the local staff and near-by ranchers.  Then home to await arrival of brother Nate.