White Water Tongariro

The last (and only) time I remember rafting down a river was the Sandy River in Oregon.  It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and I think we were in some kind of canoe.  Since then, I've wondered what rafting a little wilder river might be like.  Today, my wondering was answered.

We booked with Tongariro River Rafting, an outfit that's been in business for about 20 years here in Turangi.  They definitely knew what they were doing.  They picked us up at our lodge, greeted us warmly, outfitted us with wetsuits, boots and helmets and then made the rest of the day good wet fun.

After dressing up, we boarded their van and drove about 15 minutes to the launch point on the Tongariro River.  The 40 or so rapids we went through over a course of 12 km were rated no higher than a 3 on the 5 point scale.  That means no one fell into the river and no rapids were extreme.  We did hit the bank several times and did some spin arounds but we also had good wet fun.  And we were always safe.

The biggest challenge we faced was getting hung up on rocks several times.  Most of the time we could rock ourselves free; however, once "Mad Dog Mike" our guide was forced to get out of the boat to rock us free.  It was lots of fun.

Sandra and Rachel "volunteered" to be in front of the boat.  It's good it was them as they ended up flying around back on several occasions.  Better them than one of us guys.  Two in our party were Aussies, our guide and Peter are Kiwi's and there were us two Yanks.

The canyon we came down was gorgeous.  Steep cliffs, evidence of volcanic activity, trees, beautifully clear and pure water - it was New Zealand at its finest.  We enjoyed three hours of fun, challenge, some physical activity, photo ops, and good fellowship at the end.  To top it off, they presented us with photos we took along the way and some taken by our driver, who happened to come along in time for the last big rapids.

The 1st task:  hauling the raft to the river

We launched!

Happy sailors!

Smile and look brave for the camera!

The final spas!

Two of each:  Yanks, Aussies, Kiwis

Four Wheelin' in the Bush

Monday, January 30, 2012

As part of my research on what to see and do in New Zealand, I connected with Trip Advisor of New Zealand, a website outfit which sorts out various places and makes recommendations based on user feedback and reviews.  I was looking at activities near Turangi, where we are staying for a week.  Near the top of the list in recommendations was Tongariro Quads.  They were rated second by reviewers to an ancient tree somewhere north of Auckland.  (The tree is the largest and one of the oldest in NZ and apparently there are moonlight hikes out to see it.)

So we made a date with the Quads online and yesterday the date came up.  We can now commend it to others.

We drove about 30 km out from Turangi, headed into the Tongariro National Park.  Our drive took us up to a viewpoint where we got a look at Lake Taupo and the surrounding territory.  As they frequently say here, “Fantastic!”  (In the U.S. they would probably say “Amazing!”)  The accompanying photo gives some idea of the volcanic nature of this area of the island.

We arrived at a rural school and drove around to the back where Malcolm and Jason greeted us.  Four others signed up for the trek and 8 Honda Four Wheel Quads (that’s redundant, I know) were lined up and ready to go.  After introductions and a safety talk from Malcolm, we donned our helmets, revved up the motors (basically turned them on) and set out like baby ducklings following single file behind their mother.  Jason brought up the rear, somewhere back behind me.  (We were advised not to turn around and look behind us because that would throw off steering our own vehicle.)

Things started out pretty calm on a gravel road and I practiced shifting up and down the range of five gears.  We were told that we could probably drive without ever using the handbrakes if we learned to downshift properly.  I found that to be pretty accurate.  Otherwise, driving was pretty much like a motorcycle or a moped which Danny and I used to drive around Wahiawa delivering newspapers.

The difference in terrain soon made quad-riding more challenging.  Malcolm led his ducklings into the bush.  The area we traversed had been logged many years ago and the trails were old logging roads, now overgrown with low bushes and small trees.  It was now a narrow path worn down regularly by Tongariro Quads.  There were various trails leading off the main one but Malcolm dropped cones to keep us on the right path.  We also tried to keep up with the person in front of us.  Guess who I was following?  You got it, and she was tough to follow.  Many times I lost sight of her red Honda as she blazed through the bush.

The fun came as we negotiated various streams and mudholes along the path.  Several times one or more of the quads got stuck and needed either Malcolm or Jason or both of them to rock and roll and push the quad out of the muck.  Then the next guy had a better idea of where to drive his rig to avoid the same plight.

There were also some obstacles in the path.  Downed trees, major roots, rocks and deep ruts in the trail made things interesting.  The trail was often sloped one way or the other and we were told to shift our bodies to remain upright and keep control.  Malcolm had advised us not to stick out our foot and if all else failed to jump off the quad.  On this day, no one resorted to that.  I do remember watching Sandra’s quad catch some air once as she flew over a big bump in the trail.

We were equipped with helmets and I can see why.  There were low hanging tree limbs and I was constantly ducking to stay beneath them.  We went to through marshy areas where tufted grasses grow and the fronds overhung the trail.  Bugs, flying insects, and even honeybees weren’t much of a problem as we breezed past.

We rode around for about four hours and somewhere at about the three hour mark we stopped for tea, coffee and milo along with some muffins and cookies.  Malcolm provided and we enjoyed.  He told us about some of his unappreciative clients, others whose expectations were not met, and a few funny stories about ladies falling or jumping off.  Tourism is down in NZ and people are spending less money on adventures such as his, so things are tough.  He takes groups out all year long and needs about 12 customers per week to make it.  Had it not been for the World Rugby Championship last year, he might have gone under.  His Trip Advisor ratings have also given him a boost.

Our trip back to camp took us through another stream and past the honeybee hives.  This rider didn’t get his feet wet and didn’t get stuck in any mud hole.  Those who did returned with wet shoes, pants and more.  I guess I was in the right position to learn from their mistakes.

A fun day and one more adventure checked off the list!

Lake Taupo in the distance

Let's get ready to rumble.

I'm supposed to drive where?

Smile now - it won't last long.

Malcolm giving instructions at a river crossing

You go first, Dan

Feet up - got to protect my Dr. Scholl's shoes

The water feels good on my feet

A volcanic peak with cloud cover

Ewww - the water is brown

Feet up!

Just jump off if it feels like you're going to tip over

My new shoes!

I made it!

Our sponsors

I'm glad there are no alligators in NZ

One more river to cross.

Hello, North Island

Sunday, January 29, 2012

About 1.3 million people live in Auckland and surrounding suburbs. That's about 1/3 of the country. Another 1/3 of the people live on the North Island. That leaves 1/3 of the country's people living on the South Island. So we knew we would see more activity, more traffic, more towns and cities as we continued to the North Island.

We flew out of Queenstown on Friday morning, arriving in Auckland about two hours later. The evidence of more people was readily apparent as we waited for the rental car van to pick us up. We missed it the first time around and waited another half hour as he came around again. Then we waited another hour to finalize arrangements for our car. In Queenstown, the whole process took about 10 minutes. Driving out of the airport, we were greeted by a freeway leading south to Hamilton. Another evidence of a big city was heavy traffic, police pullovers, and big trucks. I think we experienced one freeway on the South Island just outside of Dunedin.

The North Island is greener and from Hamilton south we saw lush dairy and horse farms. We're still wondering where and how the farmers milk their cows. There are no big barns, but I suppose modern milking operations don't need big areas. We were told that many of them operate lazy Susan style.

Our destination on Friday was Turangi which is in the center of the North Island and about four hours driving time from Auckland. Turangi sits on the south end of Lake Taupo which is the crater of a major volcanic eruption dating back to 186 AD. It was so major that ash was distributed as far away as China.   Lake Taupo is the largest in New Zealand. We caught a glimpse of it off in the distance as we drove down from the west. We'll probably see more of it when we leave here in a week.

Turangi was more populated in the past when construction of a hydro power plant was in the works. Since it was completed, the town has shrunk in size, down to 3900 or so today. It proclaims itself as the "trout fishing capital of the world." Since I don't do much fishing, I'm not sure where all the activity is, but there are many nearby rivers feeding the big lake. We met a man named Ian, who for a fee, will take you out somewhere and get you started fishing. We met someone else in church this morning who asked if we were here to fish. He reported that "there are some other Americans out at the lake fishing."

Church was a different experience. There are only three of them listed for the town. One is Catholic, another is a combination of Anglican, Presbyterian and Methodist, and the third is the Turangi Evangelical Church. We chose it but had a few reservations when we noted only two cars in the lot five minutes before the service was to begin at 10:45 this morning. We went anyway and were not disappointed. The pastor, John Campbell, greeted us and gave us the bulletin. His wife was playing the piano. There were maybe a dozen others in attendance. The service was a mix of easy traditional hymns, a Scripture reading, a couple of prayers, a 45-minute sermon and some warm welcomes at the end.

There were more visitors than members. We learned that there are only about 5 families in membership which is down considerable from the 60 or so at one time. This is probably a reflection on the times and the downturn in the size of the community. The Gospel was certainly preached and we as Lutherans appreciated that. I had a great conversation with a couple of friendly guys after the service, one of whom was a pastor from Wellington here for a holiday. A further evidence of friendliness came from the pastor's wife who invited us over to lunch. We politely declined, knowing that we have food that needs to be consumed before we hit the road on Friday.

This afternoon we took a walk along a local "track" that took us over the Tongariro River and up the opposited side to a highway bridge. We are getting ready for a major hike on Wednesday. More about that later. Suffice it to say that we have some work to do in preparation.

Voyage to Walter Peak

Thursday, January 26, 2012

We returned to Queenstown today and after checking in at the Pounamu Apartments for the evening, we drove downtown in time to catch a ride across Lake Wakatipu on the TSS Earnslaw.

There is a whole bunch of history wrapped up in that first sentence.  Allow me to unpack a few things before describing the trip.

First, Queenstown, is the #1 travel destination in New Zealand.  The name originated as the town prepared for a visit from Queen Victoria many years ago.  They wanted the city to be "fit for a queen" so in her honor that gave it the name Queenstown.

Pounamu is the Maori word for greenstone, a type of jade that was found in this region and brought much commerce to the area.  An appropriate word for these apartments.  Smartly furnished right out of an Ikea catalog.

Lake Wakatipu is a large, beautiful lake, next to which Queenstown sits.  It is 98% pure, according to one local, who said you could drink from its waters with no fear.  At one time, it was major means of transportation and that leads to the steamer, the TSS Earnslaw, which now makes frequent daily trips from one end of the lake to the other.

Years ago, there were farmers homesteading land on the shores of the lake.  They needed supplies and a means of transporting goods to market.  To meet the demand, a steamship line was created and a steamship built and outfitted for the lake.  The "twin screw steamer" was built in Dunedin and then taken apart for transport by train to Kingston, a small town on Lake Wakatipu.  There it was reassembled and commissioned the TSS Earnslaw.  Its maiden voyage was in October, 1912 and almost 100 years later, it is still making trips daily.

These days the ship is run by Real Journeys, a tourism outfit.  Today the boat hauls people to want to visit the Walter Peak Farm.  Back then, the ship would haul everything from sheep to construction equipment.

Today the boat departed in a rainstorm that didn't let up the whole time.  We were issued umbrellas at the farm, where we did a Homestead tour.  A couple ladies told us the history of the place, showed us photos of the McKenzie family who brought it into existence, and then we sampled wine and indulged in small talk with fellow tourists.  I wondered just who this Walter Peak person was.  There was no answer forthcoming from the guides.

Our visit was over in about an hour and we returned to Queenstown on the Earnslaw as the rain continued.  What made the return trip enjoyable was sitting around a grand piano on the lower deck and singing some old time sing-alongs with a bunch of folks from the UK.  They were loud and rousing when it came to songs like "You take the high road and I'll take the low road," but we also sang "The Yellow Rose of Texas" and they did well with that one also.

So who was Walter Peak, I wondered.  Further thought and research led me to the answer.  One of the original settlers decided to name the mountain which is the back drop for the farm.  He chose the name Walter to honor his son and the mountain was named Walter Peak.  Hmm.  Isn't there a similar place in Colorado?

The TSS Earnslaw coming to share at Queenstown

Walter Peak High Country Farm

Our hostess and guide

The original farmhouse

Flowers grow here in abundance

Looking down at the steam engines on the Earnslaw

Our pianist and song leader on the return trip

Two old guys - one from Somerset, UK and the other?

The 8th Wonder of the World

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

As with most countries of the world, there are places labeled as "must sees" by both the locals and the visitors.  In New Zealand there is a list of "101 must-do's for New Zealanders" and #16 and #26 both are in Fjordland.  After the last two days, we can see why these places are on the list.

Fjordland is the southwestern corner of the South Island and is now a national park.  It is remote and rugged but visited by thousands who come by bus, car, plane, boat and on foot to see the wonders of this place.  It's ironic that Captain James Cook had a chance to become one of the first outsiders to Milford Sound, but he didn't see the opening from out there on the Tasman Sea and boated on by.  He is credited with seeing  the beauty of the place back in 1770 on one of his voyages of discovery.

Maori legend says that the gods carved out deep canyons into the coastal mountains, beginning to the south and moving northward.  There are 14 such fjords over a space of 200 km of coastline.  That's over 100 miles of coast and the sheer granite mountains rise straight up from the sea to a height of some 2700 meters (almost 9,000 feet).  The total area is nearly 3 million acres, making it a little larger than Yellowstone Park in the U.S.  By the time whoever was doing the carving got to the north end of the area they were getting to be real creative and the northernmost fjord, today known as Milford, turned out to be the most beautiful.  Today it is also the most popular when it comes to visitors.

So we decided many months ago, this was one place we didn't want to miss.  The question was not 'if' but 'how' and 'when.'  Those who walk to Milford spend three or four days getting there, staying overnight in "huts" maintained by the park service.  You can drive your car and there is lodging at the end of the road, but it is a one-way road and very few services at the end.  Most come in by tour bus and we were among those who booked a tour out of TeAnau, the nearest city.  Sitting in a bus was a new experience for me, after sitting behind the driver's wheel for over a week.  The driver was informative and the bus was not crowded.  We stopped several times along the four hour drive, with great views of streams, mountains and rainforest.  The final descent took us through a tunnel and down to the Sound.

The driver pointed out that the word "sound" is really a misnomer.  It should be called Milford Fjord, since it is a deep canyon carved by glaciers and the water is saltwater from the sea.  We arrived at around 4:00 pm and boarded our overnight cruise ship a half hour later.  There were about 50 of us booked on "The Mariner" and another 30 or so rode on a sister ship, "The Wanderer."

After getting oriented to the ship and safety procedures, we set off on an hour-long cruise towards the Tasman.  It's easy to see who Milford Sound is so popular.  There were people on board from many countries and all were awed by the scenes which unfolded before us.  Mitre Peak is the icon - a tall mountain shaped like a bishop's headgear jutted up from the water.  Beyond were snow-capped peaks of the Southern Alps and countless waterfalls cascading over cliffs and downward.  The sights are too numerous to describe with words.  Hopefully, there will be photos and videos added to this page to give better meaning.

We anchored in a small protected bay and then were given opportunity to get out into the Sea either individually in kayaks or in small groups in 12-person motor craft.  We opted for the latter and saw seals, fishing boats, and imagined looking across the Tasman Sea to Sydney, Australia, a thousand miles away.

We returned to The Mariner in time for a great buffet dinner, some light entertainment and then settling in for the night in our cabin.  The water was very calm and the only annoyance was the engine room next door to us where a motor hummed all night to keep the generators working.  The next morning it was more great food for breakfast and the ship made a quick trip out to deeper waters before turning around and heading back to port.  Along the way we waved at occupants of two large ocean-going cruise ships which had also spent the night in the Sound.  We got back to the dock at around 9:30 am.

Most of those on board returned to either Queenstown or TeAnau by bus.  We elected to fly back to TeAnau in a small five seater Cessna operated by Fjordland Airlines.  The flight was s stunning finale as we flew past some of the peaks we had seen from sea level.  Our pilot was a young Amelia Earhart, who skillfully took us up and up and then gently down to TeAnau International.  She tied the plane down (literally) and drove us back to town in her company station wagon.

If you are coming to New Zealand, Milford will be here waiting for you.

Getting ready to board . . .

Our vessel

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The Skipper

Our suite, room 19

Heading out in a smaller boat to see the Sound up close

Peacefully anchored for the night

Cruise ship #1

Cruise Ship #2

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up in the clouds out of Milford

This Cessna brought us out of the fjords

Looking back on Lake TeAnau from our private observation area