The Book of Ashes

Climbing Ruapehu... 12:29PM

Is it time to quit my job and start a fresh? Who ate all the Chupachups? Where did all the rain come from?

The sky opened up and bled. Huge drops of rain. The gutters turned to rivers and the Earth felt the pain.

I drove to work today and it pissed down. The motorway was covered in water and visibility was low. All the cars were in the slow lane doing under 100. Water sprayed up behind them as they drove through puddles. I hit a puddle. The car aqua-planed over it. Dangerous. We need spikes!

Climbing Ruapehu...

We have just had a long weekend in Wellington. Not as long as the Vodafone long weekend but still long. It was Wellington Anniversary day. Sunday I went on a mish. Hopped in the car with Martin (after brother Tom had bailed, too tired from moving flat (he's now just down the street from me on Brougham)) and drove for 4 hours. We found the mountain, the highest point on the North Island. We planned to climb it... with a little help. We drove up to Whakapapa ski field and purchased two chairlift tickets. The day was overcast but warm as we rode the chairlifts up over the baren rock. It looked like nothing could grow here, nothing could survive but then life is everywhere. Lady bugs don't know they're up a mountain and its easier living down low. There brains are pretty small and then there was the sandflies. We found their burial grounds, they land on snow to die by the kilometre. It was impressive. Anyway I digress, we were on the chairlift. We reached the cafe at the top, the view down was great, the view to the side even better. Huge jagged rust coloured ridges jutted out beside us. Truely this must be what Mars looks like I thought, with less of an atmosphere and an orange sky.

So we set off, following the major track with heaps of people on it. I had doubts, the lady had said follow that other chairlift but this was a big track, everyone was up it, it must be right, right? Wrong. We took the wrong path, straight up to the left, a steep hill, we reached the ridge and looked down, upon the world, upon Ngarahoe. I saw more of it now than when I'd climbed it with Tom back in Easter in the mist and snow. I'd knocked that bastard off and now I was aiming for its big brother. We kept going. The became steeper, more ruggered then almost petered out. We met up with a group of three Swedish people. They thought they were off the right track. I looked at the map and saw it instantly. Doh! Well too hard to get back now, lets just keep going. Those have been famous last words on more than one occasion...

So we eventually reached the top. It didn't take that long but was fairly hard going. From the top we got a stunning view. Ruapehu, like Tongariro is not a typical mountain top, rather it is a series of ridges and peaks around a central plato area. Its really munted looking, like it was all blown up like that (feel the irony). But its beautiful, snow was everywhere, red rocks covered the landscape and dust, ashes to be precise but the slightly less intelligent type that cover the ground. We continued on, now partnered up with the Swedish couple for better or worse.

Then we hit the snow, slipping, sliding down the hill on your feet or bum. It was all good. An hour or so later we reached the track we were meant to be on and the shelter that over looked the crator lake. The way we had come had been harder with better views. We loved it. Fate plays interesting games with you sometimes.

continued... 12:36PM

At the shelter we rested. Then decided to climb the closest high peak. It was steep, mother f*ing steep but not too far. We were buggered, but we'd made it, we'd knocked the bastard off. Apparently (on later contemplation of the map) we hadn't climbed the highest peak (46m higher than our one) but that was far off in the distance and daylight hours were running out. It was now 5pm+. The top was rough. It was like a pile of old stones, fallen like that on a cliffs edge. You could imagine an earthquake would level the top of this peak, us with it if we remained. It was kinda freaky. So we left. Packed up our every belonging and fled. Down the rocks, down the snow, on arse and foot we travelled, down the pass, down the valley, over snow. Travellers five. I stopped for a field test of the coke skiis. Yes I carried them up the whole way. No they didn't work greatly but ok. They weren't particulary comfortable on the feet though. I'll have to write to Coke and complain about that. So we continued, cross country until we finally made our way back to the cafe at the top of the chairlift. The chairlift finished at 4pm. It was now 6pm. We walked back down, me remembering what this area was like to ski when it was covered in snow. Much different.

7pm we reached the car park. Bade fairwell to the Swedes and turned around to drive home. Another 4 hours driving and we were back in Wellington, around midnight. Buggered, but happy we slept. Another mission accomplished