A Summit Of A Different Sort

August 14^th-18^th

On Thursday, the mountain was still engulfed in a whirlwind of N.Z. winter weather. The Turoa Ski Field was still closed due to high winds and the access road was closed because of snow (go figure). Meanwhile town was soaked in rain; sometimes it was a downpour. So a day dedicated to catching up on life and training. Spending lots of time in the library, trail running, and using the climbing gym during their $10 special. I hadn’t expected much from the gym since it looked like a tourist trap with the brightly colored walls, one with circles cut out for holds, another with small sections of rope sticking out, a rope ladder, and a so called “dry tooling" wall. However, it did have self-belay devices and I didn’t having anything better to do with my time that evening. I went in for a pump fest (burning out the forearm muscles) and actually enjoyed myself.

I walked out the gym to find the depressing rain had turned to revitalizing, soft quiet snow. With new excitement for the next few days, I headed to Callum’s house. I had spent about an hour in his shop earlier that day having a yawn with him and his boss. Before I had left Callum invited me to escape the rain and stay in one of the spare bedrooms at his place.

Looking back at Nick and our turns in the petite bowl.

After a morning delayed by slow clearing weather and plow trucks, Nick and I headed to the mountain for a short tour down low to keep the blanket of clouds above us. We made a couple of runs in a petite bowl just a short ways from the resort. Despite the extreme winds over the last few days, Nick found the perfect snow (minus the few rocks just below the surface). As the clouds creped their way up the mountain we caught glimpses of longer more powdery runs. We set off to investigate, only to have the clouds sweep back down around us again, so that beyond 50 meters around us was only whiteness. We had a brief lunch waiting for a clearing and then decided to head back. With the weather clearing, I camped in my car that night.

  

Saturday morning turned into a bit of a mess with some miscommunication between Nick and I. He ended up missing me and heading up to the mountain while I wondered what happened. He doesn’t care for phones very much and had actually just bought his first cell phone, but hadn’t bothered to figure out how to work it yet. I guess you can say he’s a man of action and doesn’t always take the time to double check details. I hitched just after 10 in the morning and waited about an hour and 45 minutes to arrive at the ski field, a mere 16 km down the road. We were lost in clouds almost the whole time, until we approached the bottom of the resort when we broke clear above the clouds and saw the dazzling view of a snow covered volcano towering above us.

I threw on my skis and started uphill, taking care to stick to the very edge of the groomed trail or going off track completely so I wouldn’t have an oblivious novas skier hit me head on (they were everywhere). I stopped briefly in the patrol shack to talk to them about avalanche conditions and then continued to skin up to the field above the lifts. I turned around about 200 meters shy of the saddle since I needed to switch to crampons. I was feeling my legs and I needed them to work for 2 more full days of touring. I was solo as a marched up the slope with no other tracks to be seen. As I flew down the open face enjoying large turns you rarely get in the Rockies, I saw people who'd hopped off the top lift start to make their way up the face, their interest triggered now they saw someone else test the waters for them. Keen to avoid the crowds, I headed down and hitched a ride back to town.

I stayed at Callum’s place again, along with a German turned kiwi and a Swedish couple, all of whom Callum’s roommate had just met at the bar that night. I talked with the German woman, Kath who is a keen climber. We spoke of possible climbing trips we could do in the future. Turns out, she’s planning a trip to Tasmania, a place I had actually hopped to visit while I was Down Under. Fingers crossed I get my finances straight for that trip.

Sunday morning I carpooled with Kath and Callum’s roommate to Turoa Ski Field. I looked into get a pass that would allow me to ride the lifts once to the top (to save energy for doing laps in the crater). They said I couldn’t take my skis with me on the lift, because they don’t check passes on the upper lifts so they can’t guarantee I wouldn’t keep riding them. I was tempted to say “Well I could pay you the $30 for the one ride and you can take my word that I won’t ride them again, or I can not pay anything, tour up to an upper lift and ride it anyways.” I bit my tongue.

Once again I started my tour from the bottom of the resort with 1100ish meters of vertical gain a head of me just to make it to the crater. This time however, I had Callum riding the lifts. I used my resources wisely and had him come by and grab my pack to carry it up via the lifts (allowing me to move faster and save energy). My legs felt like led as I started up the slope, making me fear I wouldn’t make it all the way. I discovered my touring technique becomes exponentially better in this state since I don't have the energy to lift my skis off the ground. As I got into a groove of motion, my stride became increasingly long and strong, my fatigue melted away. I was thankful I didn't buy a pass when I strode on by the long queues of people waiting to get on lifts.

An hour and 15 minutes later, I arrived at the top of the highest lift just three minutes behind Callum. He decided there must be an energizer bunny tucked away inside of me. Flattering except he says this as he rolls a cigarette to smoke before starting the hike up the last couple hundred meters.

I arrived about 15 minutes ahead of him. I snacked while I waited, admiring the crater bowl with steep walls, cliffs, a steaming lake, and untouched snow. I strolled back and forth on the rim, inspecting the snow and analyzing what line I should take.  When Callum arrived, step-by-step behind me, he worked to catch his breath and regain his strength, and I talked away about my thoughts, concerns, and where I thought I should go if I do drop in. He had the whatever, it’s all good attitude. The snow is solid.

Some other folks arrived just behind us, debating if they would go as well. I decided to break the ice and went for it. Without knowing what to expect, I stomped the edge to see if the snow would crack then dropped a meter down to ski cut across, testing the snow. Nothing. I took a deep breath and turned my skis down hill. Long carving turns over perfect soft styrofoam snow. Without trees or rocks as indicators, I lost sensation of how fast I was going, fumbling on a turn or two. Despite the imperfect turns, I was elated.

After Callum caught up at the base, we both turned to see a crowd of folks building up on the rim and one after another, people dropped in. The smell of sulfur caught my attention, reminding me of Nick’s warning that the volcano could potentially erupt or burp at any point and that it was a sacred place to the Maori. I was keen to not linger. Callum and I made our way back to the ski field where I snuck in one more tour up to the café before skiing to the bottom. Hitched home tired but satisfied.

That evening I dropped my skis off at Callum’s shop for repairing, headed to his place and prepared to depart right after one more adventure on the mountain. I enjoyed watching Kath and the roommate fire-dance before heading to bed.

The goal for Monday was to climb Girdlestone Peak, the beautiful pyramid to the NorthEast of Ruapehu’s proper summit. However, upon setting out for a fourth time from the road’s end, I quickly realized how tired I was. I used the excuse of reading the landscape and tooling around on a waterfall to make frequent stops. I was ready to give up when I came out of a gully to realize Ruapehu’s summit wasn’t far. So step by dragging step, I made my way up, breaking for lunch on the ridge. At the summit I paused to admire the views one more time and take pictures before turning around to make my slow way down. Even with a new lightness to my step I couldn’t compare to a decent on skis.

Looking up at the Girdlestone, the peak to the right.

Hitched back to town, grabbed my skis from Callum, said my thanks and good byes, grabbed a proper coffee, and then hit the road to Wellington. My day was only dampened when at 7:15 PM I went to turn on my car at a gas station in the middle of nowhere, a mere hour from Wellington. RADADAdadadada. I spent the next 45 minutes attempting to start the car, eating a makeshift dinner, and getting fat on spoonfuls of Nutella as I ate away my frustration.

Catch Up And Powder Hounds

August 8^th-13^th

I was walking along the road in a light drizzle toward a spot that would be ideal for hitching. As usual, I had my 75-litre pack on my back, 22-litre hanging from my front. I put my thumb out and turned to face the cars as they went by, never missing an opportunity. About 2 minutes into the walk a towering tractor-trailer truck whizzed by, and the driver must have had an abrupt change of mind since he swerved to the left, slamming on his brakes. A truck that was hot on his heels did a quick maneuver to the right to avoid a rear-end accident and continued on his way.

The truck driver hoped out of the cab and came around to open a side door to the back to throw my large pack in. “You heading to Taupo?” I asked.

“Yip, hop on in.”

In the cab, I chit chatted with the man. Nice guy though I wouldn’t envy his life. Apparently he has spent the last two years of his life driving the same 8 hour round trip loop 5 days a week. “I enjoy it. Roads are different every time. Yeah know, snow, wind, sleet…” Hmm exciting. Beats his last job of dairy farming, I guess…maybe. He at least thought so.

As we got near Taupo, he hopped on his radio and began to banter with the driver that had been behind him before and who was now in the lead. The conversation went quickly to the moment of picking me up.

            “Ah yeah bro, talk about split second decision. I nearly hit you.”

            “Yeah, it was split second decision, but it wasn’t close.”

            “Ah bro, it was my good driving that saved us. I reacted so quick…”

            “Ok it was close, but not that close. Ahh, I thought you were complaining about wanting a new truck. If you hit me, at least you’d have one then.”

            So went the last 10 minutes of the drive.

He dropped me off at a parking lot next to the lovely lake of Taupo. 20 minutes later Shinee, my hostess and friend of a friend, picked me up. While I waited, I meandered into the liquor store to buy some red wine for mulling. Couldn’t come to a stranger’s home empty handed. Later we learned, to our surprise, she wasn’t much of a stranger after all. When we arrived at her house after grocery shopping, I had a moment of de je vu when I walked into her living room.

            “Wait, did you live in Wanaka in 2011?”

            “Yes.”

            “Did you have Emily and some other folks over for the rugby world cup?”

            “Ah yes, I think so.”

            “Ha, no way. I was there.”

Small world. Funny neither of us recognized the other at first.

Shinee cooked up dinner. She told me to relax and make myself at home. So I supervised with a cuppa (cup of tea) in hand. Her husband Carl and their friend Victor returned just into time to join us. Carl is mechanical engineer and was fixing up Victor’s helicopter to get Victor back to work. Though Victor was not actually interested in going back to spray fertilizers on hundreds of kilometers of farmland. He was more keen to join us for a weekend of climbing. Sadly, he had to return the next day since there was a weather window. My good friend Emily and her partner Hanza (from the Czec Republic) arrived late that night however and spent the weekend dedicated to climbing, hanging with friends, and delicious meals.

It was an amazing weekend. Carl and Shinee were exceptionally hospitable folks, feeding me and allowing me to stay Sunday night while I waited for news on my car. The climbing in Whanganui Bay was great. The area was down a washed out dirt road that ended right on lake Taupo. Stunning views, sharp painful pockets, friction and yet sometimes mossy climbs with bolts that were a bit spaced. Generally falls were still safe as long as you clipped the first bolt. Chit chatting with Emily felt like 2.5 years hadn’t passed since I last saw her. I almost forgot how much I enjoy climbing with her. Laughs, problem solving, and trip planning.

Come Monday morning I went with Victor (who returned Sunday night) to pick up my car in Turangi. From Turangi, we carpooled down in my car to Tukino, a small club ski field on Southeast side of Ruapehu. Got to test my car on rough dirt roads for the first time. It handled it well, minus a soft suspension. The dirt carried by the high winds probably took away that last waxing coating the previous owners put on it.

Victor with the view we enjoyed on our hike

There was supposed to be some ice climbing very close to the ski field that we hoped to get on. Upon arriving to the road’s end, parking my car behind a giant rock (in the hopes of preventing rocks from flying up and shattering a window), and exiting the car from one door because the wind kept the others shut, we adapted our plans. We enjoyed a yawn with the people huddled in the club building, a cup of tea, and lunch before hitting the road again.  We looped back to Turangi, taking the long way round and stopping at lookouts. We snuck in a 3-hour hike in the freezing rain where we enjoyed the view of mist and tussock within a 100m of us. Upon finishing we went straight to the hot pools and enjoyed them for an hour or so before returning to Turangi.

Tuesday I meandered back to National Park, staying at Kaj’s place again to do yet another average ski tour at Whakapapa. This time the wind was too bad to go above the top of the first lift, so I did short runs practicing my transitions about 5 times over. With no luck in being able to shadow patrol, I decided it was time to move on. Upon finishing my laps I headed south to see if I’d have better luck at Turoa Ski Field.

The River from the train Bridge

On the way, I had stopped to enjoy a view of a river and train bridge. Sure enough, 10 minutes after stopping, I go to start the car…rrrutdadadadadada. The next half hour I intermittently let the car rest, ate (mainly spoonfuls of Nutella), tried to admire the views a bit more, and then repeatedly tried to get it to start. Two German men came over to check on me. One was a mechanic but had no idea what the problem could be and he had no tools. They waited around with me until the car reluctantly started. I booked it down the road a mere 10ish km and pulled off at Horopito Vintage Vehicles and Museum to have a mechanic check the car and to explore their enormous collection of cars (supposedly 2^nd largest antique car collection in the world). A friendly mechanic came out to check out the car. 10 times in a row he attempts to start the car and of course, it starts perfectly every time. He examined the engine and the parts that make it run, gave me some guesses as to what it might be. I strolled through the museum to give my car a chance to fail again. 20 minutes later, it starts with no problems. Damn.

 

Giving up on my car failing for the mechanic I drove on to Ohakanie, the town before Turoa ski field. I walked into a ski repair shop to be greeted by a man about my age with dread locks maybe a foot shorter than I am tall (ok, may 1.5 feet shorter). I asked about finding ski touring partners.

“Ah, not until Sunday.”

“Sunday? I thought the weather was supposed to start clearing Friday and be lovely until Monday?”

“Yeah, but I’m only off on Sunday.”

“Ah right. Sweet then. Where can I find a partner for Friday and Saturday then?”

He (Callum) tells me to find a gentleman named Nick. When I wandered into another ski shop, they immediately said the exact same name and even gave me directions to his business.

I knock on the office door of Ruapehu’s Cabins, and a middle-aged man with a slightly weathered face opens the door. I tell him I’m looking for Nick and turns out he is the man I’m looking for. When I told him I’m looking for ski touring partners for Friday, Saturday, and Monday, he became giddy with excitement. For the next hour or so, I listened and watched as he started looking up the weather, pulling out maps to show areas he was excited to checkout, talking about ski conditions, and skiing powder in Japan and NZ. Find a local who knows the mountain and keen for touring: Check.

‘Average’ Touring

I was driving out of Auckland by 10:30 AM on Tuesday August 5^th (after a minor detour where I went in a complete circle and arrived back at Wilma’s house).  The drive to Ruapeho was supposed to take about four to five hours. That is, if you drive the speed limit. However, due to wanting to maximize my fuel economy and being terrified to drive 100 km/hr on the narrow windy roads I was the old granny driver, much to the frustration of the drivers behind me probably.

I did make a couple of stops on the way down to take a second to enjoy the scenery and for petrol. Beyond that, I was just keen to make it to the mountain.

I arrived at National Park (a town 20 minutes before the Whakapapa Ski Field) about 4:30 in the afternoon. The snowcapped, conical volcano of Mt Ngauruhoe[1] towered above the golden and green landscape. It was struggling with gaining its winter coat with lots of rocky ridges lining the half filled gulleys. It was little more welcoming than the mountain portrayed in Lord of the Rings, but probably not very skiable at the moment. Just to the Southwest, there was the taller, more sprawling volcano of Mount Ruapeho, which boasted of a nicer, while still patchy, winter coat. It had been a lovely clear day on the mountains; I wished I arrived a bit earlier to sneak in some touring. I decided to spend the night in National Park to find a place to sleep and eat before dark.

Ngauruhoe when the weather cleared
the evening after my first tour at Whakapapa

Ruapeho my first night in National Park

After filling up on a few liters of petrol, I stopped to talk to a young woman who looked like a resort worker. Sure enough, she was a ski instructor, but unfortunately not into touring. She did mention that folks into ski touring may be found at the pub that night for the locals’ quiz and she directed me to a safe place sleep in my car. I set up for sleeping, cooked up a quick dinner, and then headed to the pub for the evening to attempt networking. A DOC[2] guy told me the next day actually that socializing at the pub is probably the best way to find a temporary job in NZ, even government jobs (good thing I didn’t search too hard on the internet before). While I enjoyed conversations with a Frenchman turned Kiwi, a local, and some other transient Kiwis, I wasn’t very successful in finding touring partners.

Next morning, when my alarm beeped I rolled over to look through the car windows, the view was distorted by raindrops, to see only clouds and no mountains. I hit the snooze button. Half-hour later, I decided I needed to get moving. Put on the skis regardless of weather so I can be fit and ready for the good weather windows.

Clouds sopped in Whakapapa ski field and the precipitation was pelting down in an unpleasantly wet and icy form. I meandered up to the Urgent Clinic to talk to patrol. The doctor there put me on the line with a lead patroller, Nick.

            “Hello Nick, this is Kat. I see you have some great coverage and fantastic weather to go along with it, eh.”

            “Ah yup, it is pretty nice isn’t it? Really exceptional conditions”

            Following a bit of banter, I proceeded to explain that I was keen on touring, was wondering about snow conditions, if he knew of anyone to tour with, and if the ski field had any policies on people touring uphill in bounds. Upon answering my questions, he finished with the classic kiwi line, “Stop in to join us for a cup of tea in the patrol office once you get up here. We’re just under the express lift.”

            “Sweet, I’ll be on my way up shortly.” I spent the next half-hour to 45 minutes trying to put all my gear on in the car while trying not to open my car doors too often to prevent everything from getting soaked (moments I wish I bought a van). First challenge of car camping in New Zealand: preventing your stuff from getting wet when it’s nonstop precipitation.

            Finally I was on my way up the hill. It was great to finally be on skis again and getting a bit of exercise, despite the sleet pecking my cheeks like thousands of needles. It only had been three months since my last ski tour and yet I was relearning my layering system once again, stopping 3 times on the way up to adjust.

            Just over an hour later I snapped out of my skis and stomped into the patrol room. I introduced myself to the first person in a patrol jacket, saying I was looking for a gentleman by the name of Nick. While I waited for him to come to the lounge, I started chatting with some patrollers, hoping to find an avid backcountry skier in the bunch. As I chatted with them, I tried to be real smooth with using my kiwi lingo so I’d blend in a little. “Ah yeah, I got a bit soft this summer. I mean with trying to remember all the gear I need for a tour and getting my layering system right...Sweet, I’m super keen to get out for a tour up the mountain…miles per hour, I mean kilometers in miles per hour…make that kilometers per hour.” Still the rambler who struggles to find my words in any lingo.

When Nick arrived, I chatted with him over a macchiato from the Nestlé machine. It was somewhat productive, learning about possible patrol jobs down south and avalanche danger. Then everyone began dispersing back to his or her duties.

After a long break inside, slowly I began switching out damp layers and adding warmer ones to prepare me for the ski down. I snagged the phone number of a patroller (Kaj) who was into touring before I left and snapped back into my skis.  The way down was slow with having to frequently scrape ice from my goggles. I did a second lap up just to be sure I could do a relatively quick turnover. There’s nothing like ‘average’ NZ weather to speed up the learning curve.

            Shortly after arriving in town I received a text from Kaj, saying the weather wasn’t good for a tour, but if I wanted, there was a couch at his place with my name on it. I arrived at the perfect time-dinner already made, folks already full, and leftover’s still warm. They insisted I take them. I enjoyed a warm evening by a wood stove, yawning[3] with the three patrollers who live in the home.

            Next day was a bit of a repeat of the day before. This time the precipitation wasn’t so biting. This time soft rain caressed my face as I moved up the hill and yet still blinded me on the way down. White out conditions remained. I didn’t last as long as the day before.

            After spending an afternoon in the warm house, I went for a run in the rain. I returned to find Kaj[4] had made mulled wine and a lentil dish for the household. Top that off with a hot shower and the evening was perfect.

Turangi

            Friday I left town early to have my car inspected in Turangi. I neglected to mention, on the drive down and in National Park, I was already starting to experience issues with the car. Burning rubber smell, difficulty starting the car occasionally. After some google searching, I feared my alternator was going. After dropping off the car at the auto shop, I explored the town a little before deciding to hitch to the town of Taupo. There I was to meet my old friend Emily and new friends Shinee and Carl for my weekend climbing adventures!

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[1] My mistake, this is the real Mount Doom. Apparently scenes of Frodo and Bilbo’s journey to Mountain Doom were filmed on Ruapeho.

[2] Department of Conservation-Kind of like our National Park and Forest Rangers.

[3] Yawn-Kiwi term for casual conversation.

[4] I would like to note, Kaj is originally from Australia and currently following winter between New Zealand and Norway. He’s also done quite a bit a traveling in-between, including to Park City, UT. Oh, and he’s convinced me I need to visit Norway.

Search and Escape

          One week I struggled with the daunting task of finding a cheap, yet somewhat reliable car. I needed fuel efficiency and space for two people and gear. I stared for hours at trademe.co.nz website and ran into backpacker hostiles for car sale postings. I’d repeatedly go through cars to compare specs, trying to balance how much it would cost to buy the car now with what it might cost to keep it going down the road. Sometimes I picked up the phone to call the owners for more details and even made the effort to go see 5 different cars.

First, there was the Turkish man selling a 1996 Toyota Corolla manual station wagon for $2300. In a heavy Turkish accent he would insist, “I tell you this like you were my own daughter. This is a reliable car. I pay for any inspection because it will pass. I know it will. You are like my daughter; this is a good car for you. Very good for its age.”

Wilma and I struggled with getting it to engage in first gear. Both of us had to make several attempts to put the shifter in first, playing with the clutch to catch the gear only to find ourselves rolling backward. I think third time was the charm for both of us. I then began thinking about how I would be driving a car through cities on the left side of the road with the shifter on my left. It suddenly seemed like too much multi-tasking; a recipe for disaster.

            Then there was the Honda Orthia[1] man, who was trying to quickly sell his sister’s car since she just moved to Jordan.

“Do all the electronics work?”

“Oh, yes. Well, the back windows just jammed up last week.”

“They just stopped working? Sounds like it might just be a blown fuse. I’ll just check, since that would be an easy fix for me.” I pulled out the plastic panel in front of the fuses, turned it around to check the fuse map…ah, right. Japanese imported car. Unfamiliar characters filled in the boxes indicating what fuse controlled which electronic system.

“How is it on petrol? Do you know how many liters is in a tank?”

“Uhh, $80-90 to fill the tank. Get’s about 600 km per tank. Very good on petrol.”

…

“Ah, would this tape over the hole in the back window pass a WOF [Warrant of Fitness]?”

“What? Ooh, ha…Ah, just the back door supporter popped out. Now it’s attached here. Hole was built in. The window isn’t damaged. It’ll be no problem.”

Next was the old Mazda two house painters were in a rush to sell for a $1000. As Wilma and I did a quick test drive of the car, Wilma saw a puff of blue smoke come out of the exhaust. She insisted I shouldn’t get the car because of that. I looked up online to find that it’s a sign the engine is burning oil.

Saturday morning Wilma and I visited a father trying to sell his yellow Toyota Corolla that his uncle had given him three years earlier.

“When was it last serviced?”

“I think I had the oil changed once since I got it…The tires are good. You might have to replace one for the next warrant of fitness.”

“It’s a 5 cylinder engine? How is it on petrol?”

“Yes it is. Ah, I don’t know exactly. I just use about half a tank though every week commuting around the area. Definitely doesn’t drink petrol quickly…”

“Guess it’s the extra cylinder that makes it so grunty and gives it that extra power.”

…

“It’s sell as is. I’m not looking to do any work on it before handing over the keys.”

“Sweet, well I’m really interested if it’s around $1600. I’ll probably place a bid on it this evening on Trademe.”

I called up a couple Toyota dealers upon arriving home. “Hi, I’m just looking into buying a Toyota corolla, and I can’t find anything online about the type of engine it has. Do you know anything about Toyota building a 1.5 L engine that’s 5 cylinders?”

“Ooh, that’s an odd one. I would probably just stick to the four cylinder engines just because 5 cylinder is really unusual.”

”What’s the registration number of the car...The yellow corolla? Ha, it doesn’t say here on the VIR, but that should be a 4 cylinder engine.”

            I think the father was honest and up front. He just didn’t know a whole lot about the car’s real history. Though I should have taken up on his offer for taking home free foam bedding while I was there.

            That afternoon, I went with Wilma to check out a Nissan station wagon. A young Asian man greeted us at his family home and began to show me the car and explained most of the car’s history. Imported from Japan eleven years earlier, owned by his family since it arrived. Serviced every 6 months. After a test drive I said I’d be keen to buy it for the “buy now” price of $1400 after it passes a mechanical inspection. He said that was fine, but since it’s on trademe, if someone else clicks the “buy me now” button he is obligated by law to sell it to them if I haven’t closed the deal. I couldn’t get an inspection until Monday. After ten minutes of contemplation, I decided to be done with it all and to just risk it. I shook hands, signed the papers, and put down a deposit.

In the end I covered cheap, I think reliable (let me put on a couple thousand kilometers before I can confirm it), and decently spacious (as far as station wagons go). It’s very similar to my Subaru but with a bit more power. Because of the power and the four-wheel drive however, I did not succeed in having great fuel economy. Here, when it’s $2.21 a liter for petrol and you’re driving from the North to the South Island, every extra kilometer your get per liter counts. If it doesn’t reach my expectations of 26 mpg, I may need to sell it down the road. After winter of course, since I need the 4-wheel drive now.

Monday (August 4^th) I registered the car, changed the ownership to me, finished shopping for car camping supplies, and handed over the rest of the cash in exchange for the car. With the car in my possession and my money from the States finally in my New Zealand account, I was antsy to hit the road. I spent way too much time in the city while the mountains taunted me with the adventures they hold. The plan was to have the car mechanically inspected Tuesday morning, then set it up to live in, and leave first thing Wednesday morning for Ruapehu. I couldn’t wait. I cancelled the mechanical inspection (figured I could always stop at a mechanic as soon as an issue popped up), set up the car, said my goodbyes, and headed straight for Ruapehu.

I would like to take a moment here to thank Wilma and Tim so much for their hospitality. Wilma especially went above and beyond the hospitality I would expect even from a Kiwi. She kind of became my NZ Mum. She drove me around to see cars and helped me test-drive them. She insisted I not buy any food until my money situation with the States was all sorted and helped me with getting my money transferred with the joint account. Then to top it off, she (and sometimes Tim) took me around to shop for car camping supplies, outfitting me with some of their old stuff when I couldn’t find it at a reasonable price. Come summer, I will probably have to help them with some work on their beach house in Coromandel to make up for all they have done for me.

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[1] Station wagon version of the Honda Civic.

The Real "To Do List"

Some of these ideas might not be very realistic; I have to do some further research to do on them before I can fully commit, but for now I can aim high. Do note, I will probably add on to this list as fast as I’m checking it off (if not faster).

The starred items are those I wanted to do last time and didn’t get to. They are therefore a bit of a priority. And I didn’t list all the friends I intend on catching up with because I hope they will be apart of these adventures. Oh, don’t forget to check out my custom made map below with the approximate locations of my goals. No really, you should check it out so I know I didn't waste my life away with designing an image on Word.

North Island

• The Cormandel-A lovely area with beaches to camp on, music festivals, caves, and probably more.
• Bay of Plenty-a large bay where blue whales and humpbacks have been seen.
• Tiritiri Matangi Island- An Island off the shore of Auckland that is pest free and loaded with native NZ fauna and flora.
• Tramp the Hillary Track-A 77km track in the Waitakere Ranges Regional Parkland.
• Maungatautari Ecological Island, Waikato-The largest mainland safe haven for New Zealand native wildlife and plants
• *Lake Taupo-Largest lake by surface area in New Zealand. Apparently has some Maori rock carvings I need to check out.
• *Tangoriro National Park

o   Sir Edmund Hillary Center-an outdoor pursuit center I had hoped to work for. Probably won’t happen, but I would still like to visit it.

o   *Ski Ruapehu-Also known as Mount Doom to all the LOTR fans. Since it is in LOTR, an active volcano, has about 9,100 ft prominence (about it’s elevation), and is the highest point on the North island, I obviously have to ski it. From bottom to top and down. I’ll also try to hop on the adjacent ridges.

•     *Wellington-lovely city on the southern coast of the South Island and it is where Emily lives (one of my key climbing partners from my first trip to NZ).

o   *Take the Ferry to South Island.

•     Various Climbing areas-to be determined based on climbing partners and more research

South Island

• *Bike the Heaphy Track-A Great Walk on the Northern bit of the South Island. Biking is allowed on the shoulder of the Peak season.
• Arthur’s Pass

o  *Climb Rome Ridge to Rolleston-A repeat from a previous trip, but now I know I have the skills (and tools) to summit.

o   Ski Tour!

•     *Garden of Eden Ice Plateau-A massive glacier plateau in a remote area. There may be some opportunities for first ascents out here. I was supposed to join a trek to here November 2011, but those plans ended up changing. Can’t complain, Stewart Island was pretty great.
•   *Cloudy Peak-A lovely mountain with some rock walls that are less known and infrequently traveled. Some adventurous alpine rock climbing to be had I believe. It is actually close to where they filmed Rohan in LOTR; so I’ll have to pay a visit there while I’m at it.
•     *Mt Aspiring-Large, beautiful peak in Aspiring National Park

o   Ski it (or at least part of it)

o   *Do the long trek over Aspiring to the West Coast with Danilo (I believe inflatable rafts were involved in this plan of Danilo’s).

•      The Darrens/Fiordland National Park

o  *Climb Mitre Peak-iconic peak in Milford sound that is suppose to be a fun scramble.

o  *Climb Sabre again-Let’s see if I can do it without a bivy this time.

o   Explore the walls of Poseidon Creek-I had applied for a grant to attempt a first ascent here and was unable to receive it. However, I will try again for the grant and regardless, Nate and I are psyched to at least explore the area.

o  *Tramp the Dusky Track-84 km trail in Fiordland that crosses three major valley systems and two mountain ranges.

•      *Climb a 25 (about 5.12a/b) in Wanaka and Paynes Ford-Really so I can win a 3-year running bet and collect my beverage of choice from Dave.
•          Learn Surfing-Or at least give a good go at it.
•      Work on a Winery-Place to be determined. Probably will be near Paynes Ford.
•      Field Assistant for a wildlife management Program-Part of that “figuring my life out” goal.
•      Be a mountaineering guide-Lofty, but I’m still hopeful. Application is in to Fox Glaciers Guides on Mount Cook.
•      *Go paragliding!!

Stewart Island

•       *Explore Gog and Magog

Down Time/Rainy Days

• Read!
• Work on making jewelry/collecting shells
• Blog
• Work on my Outdoor Instructor guide book (I started this 3 years ago to make for myself)
• Learn photography