So I know I'm totally lagging behind in my postage, so this entry may be an even longer one than the last. Sorry to those of you who read this stuff. Sorry to my future self who will look to this as memory joggers.
I should probably start where I left off, before the date of my last entry on the Routeburn Track. You, or rather my future self, would be wondering why I had skipped writing about my roadtrip straight to some random three day hike a week after I would have returned. Well, honestly, I was just not very inspired to write about it. But here goes.
It started with a van. Luke, Ivana, Sophie, and I wanted to get one. Something we can drive and sleep in, yay! Mark, my faithful companion, decided to join us on the first short leg of our trip: Christchurch to Dunedin. I went in his car for that: safer because the fourth in the van didn't have a seatbelt and more fun because we drove circles around the van. Unfortunately, Dunedin was also the site I fell ill. Don't worry, nothing major, but I definitely couldn't stay in the van. Solution? I went to Queenstown early. Mark had left the day before when I didn't think I was that badly off. I came on a bus the following day.
Feeling better right away (thanks to a comfortable bed and modern medication), the next day I was determined to do something with my life and not waste my vacation. Luckily Queenstown has tracks you could walk to! The first day in Qtown I did the fernhill loop track, a lovely loop following a river that is intermittently a trickle or a roaring brook - a rainforest bordered by a city. That evening, I went to Small Planet and rented an ice ax and crampons: I would climb Ben Lomond. The next day, I was on the track by 8:30 am (even got a ride for Mark). The weather was steamy; I had already begun sweating in the car. So, I did the only logical thing: left my coat, kept my fleece.
The Ben Lomond track is noted as an 8 hour return. In the winter DOC warns of a difficult climb. Both of these things are false.
Going up that day, I skirted past the 1 hour mark in half an hour and past the 2:30 hour mark 45 minutes later. Up to this point, I'd had tree cover. I knew it was raining, but that wasn't bad. Unfortunately, I felt the full force of it as soon as the trees were behind me. Tough winds pushing water and ice flew at my face as my poor fleece, the water proof coat left behind, got drenched. I pushed forward, nearing the saddle. I don't like turning back.
Eventually, however, I did.
As soon as I let myself turn back, I ran back. I hopped and skipped down the mountain, going at lightning speed. I had gone into that trail at 8:30. I was out at 10:30.
The dissappointement was obvious on my face as Mark picked me up, soaked. He drove me back to the renting store where I shamelessly begged for another day to have the equipment... for free. Luckily people in this town are pretty cool.
The others had arrived a bit earlier from their trip to the southern tip of the south island. They were sitting in the library, charging, reading, relaxing. I needed a shower and we headed back to the hotel so I can take one.
Oh yea, the hotel. It's called Autoline. Mark's mom manages it. It's real flash: a tv in the bedroom and the bathroom, a bath with jets, and a shower with clear wall and doors, a microwave and a full set of cutlery, a table, chairs, the works. We got to stay in it for free.
Anyways, the next day, I conquered poor old Ben. It was a gorgeous day. I shunned the ax and crampons as I got to the peak. By the way, the time was grossly overestimated to the saddle. However, the peak was to take an hour. It took me that plus 45. Climbing in snow is like running in sand. I think I said that before, but it remains true.
DOC says that you could see Mounts Earnslaw/Pikirakatahi and Aspiring/Tititea from the peak. I can't say that I could name them for you, but I saw a hell of a lot of mountains from there. The view was magnificent and the wind was quiet, charging from time to time just to remind you it exists as much as you and this mountain do.
Wanaka was the next town. It's a lovely little town on the edge of a lake (Lake Wanaka) and apparently some good climbs around. We didn't check out the climbs, but we did kayak on the lake. That was nice. I was happy to get a little arm work in.
I slept in Qtown that night as well and the next. On Monday I went paragliding. It was dark and gray and we has to wait quite a while on the hill till the weather cleared up enough to jump. I spent this time talking to George, a travelling frenchman who started travelling six years ago and simply hasn't stopped. He was really cool and let me stay about 25 minutes in the air (as the fat Australians we were with hit the ground like targeted bombs) and gave me the pictures for free... basically.
From Qtown, we were off and away to the west coast. First stop? Franz Joseph! I had been waiting to see this enormous block of ice, one of the many glaciers this country is covered in and one of the two (other than Fox) most popular to climb. I got up super early to see it before the crowds got there. A barrier tells travellers not to go any further, just short of touching the glacier. My threats of simply running up to it and touching it were deterred by Sophie, my other faithful companion. I should've done it... the sun hadn't touched it yet, that block was solid. Oh wells... next time.
The whole crew went on a hike down to see the glacier from the left side. The walk was elusively long. At every corner you found yourself asking, are we there now? I must say, though, it was probably the most fun tramp I'd done to date. The track was uneven, with random climbs and stairs and stream crossings. Too bad I had a bad knee.
Oh yea, my knee. So remember how I said I ran down Ben that first time? Well, I sorta did that the second time as well - because I wanted to catch my friends before they left somewhere else. This time was not as successful and my poor knee gave up. A few kilometers of limping told me this was not going to go away tomorrow.
Limping out of the track made it unfortunately obvious to me that I wasn't going to hike anymore on this trip, hence the lack of enthusiasm I have for the memory thereof.
We travelled up the west coast, stopped at a few places. It really is gorgeous. We took Lewis Pass back to Christchurch and being tired of the van (and probably slightly of each other) we raced back to make it home around 11pm on Wednesday night. I, exhausted but hyper, went to a party.
Further installments from my missing blog posts to come soon. I promise.
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