Total commitment to the whim.

Day 21. There is always one more hill thrown in at the end. 

Turangi to Whakapapa
Daily total: 56.21km Running total: 1243.99km


To start with, pronunciation. The 'Wh' sound in Whackapapa is pronounced as a 'f' sound. Shout it aloud...done it yet? No? Go do it. If not, invite a neighbour around and get them to shout it down the phone to a lucky individual picked out of the Yellow Pages. 

It was a day of hills. Hills that lead to mountains. Mountains with summits. Summits I will climb. Tomorrow. Tomorrow is what today is for. Today is for this:

That is Mt. Doom being all surrounded by clouds. Tomorrow that will be owned!

 

How am I meant to carry on when I have to deal with scenery like this...where is the inspiration?

The sight of the mountains growing in size pushes me on. The hills are long. It is the coldest I have been in a long time. The temperature is much lower here. Turn a corner, see a new face to the mountains. The road to Whakapapa is a devious bugger. It is a gradual transition from a flat into a bastard of a hill that is all so subtle. I could not work out why it was proving to difficult to cycle. Everything looked flat, but the planes were at an angle throughout, so it was hard to work out their nasty little secret. 

Remember that song 'Sexy Boy' by Air? If not, look it up. Now, replace the word 'boy' with 'Gav' throughout the song. That will be in your head all day now. Enjoy.

I turn up to the campsite in an absolute state. The words coming from the mouth of the guy behind the desk was proving difficult for me to process, decode, recode, understand and formulate an answer. That hill was evil. The quiet, comfy spot he spoke about was a patch of dried mud. I slept like a log.

Me

The Tongariro Alpine Crossing.

It was an early start. The info about the crossing said something about sensible sturdy shoes. I decided against the flip flops and went for the sandals (I have only just found out that they are sandals. I thought that they were shoes with multiple holes!). Also, I coped out. I could have walked to the starting point but I got a shuttle bus. I know. Lazy. 

I was stomping along the track, like a man possessed. I wanted to climb a mountain and do the crossing. Clouds were appearing. I had to get to the base of Mt. Ngauruhoe (still an active volcano) fast. At the base of Mt. Ngauruhoe I caught up with Alix and Bjorn, who I met a few days back in Turangi. They have a blog site that covers their travels go check it out. Well, you will have to visit it to see photos of the crossing because dickhead here, shot all his photos in a format that cannot be easily converted. So no photos from me at the moment.

The climb up Mt. Ngauruhoe is steep and the footing is loose. The cloud cover obscures the zenith. Whilst climbing up we witness these mad feckers running down the side of the mountain. We are talking 30/25 degree slopes here. They are running down whooping like that they have just invented sliced bread. We reach the top to find patches of snow that sit near spots where the volcano is venting hot air (sorry no photos, go to A2B Travels for an idea). Reaching the summit, there was the sense of achievement as Mt. Ngauruhoe is 2287m but also a sense of awe as this place can murder you dead in a variety of creative ways. Oh and the views. They were mixed. At times the clouds opened up to reveal such vast distances and then watching them get caught up in hot and cold air currents. Seeing them fold in to themselves. 

The steep, steep descent turned us into one of those mad feckers running down the side of a mountain. It went against the rational part of the brain saying 'take it slow and steady' but no. That was a terrible option. It was difficult, unstable and your center of gravity was off. The downward slope was loose rocks and mud. Small steps turned into bigger ones which lead to an increase of down hill speed. Your foot would hit the loose ground and slide for a bit until the other foot hit servilely angled ground and repeated the process. Something like 2 hours up and 30 minutes down.  We scaled Mt. Doom! 

The rest of the trail is spectacular but rushed as Mt. Doom gave as a sense of achievement in return for time. The last sections were spent running to make it to the shuttle bus back. It was a full on test of strength and endurance. Our own 'Iron/Strong Man' competition. 

Also bumped into Mr. Fancy Pants Flag Bike from Katikati. Turns out he did the crossing in the same type of inappropriate footwear as me. That now makes him good in my books!

I parted ways with Alix and Bjorn and to the shuttle back to the campsite where I met a Polish tourer called Mariouz. He told me about his adventures and the Mountain to Coast Cycle Trail and the Bridge to Nowhere. Sounds tempting, but want to do the Gentle Annie to Napier. Will have to decide at Ohakune. That is tomorrow and the rest of today is for sleep. Who knows what state my body will be in once morning arrives...

Sandwich filler hell.