At The Base of The Volcano

Dec. 7, 2012

It rained much of the night, and we woke up to find our caravan on a small island rising up from a sea of muddy puddles.  But Richard managed to back out of our site between the trees, not get mired in the mud, and off we went, leaving the Tongariro Crossing behind.  (We drove across the Tongariro Crossing – some people hike the 7 or 8 mile trek, which might be fun and interesting, but not in the frigid wind and pouring rain we encountered.  Plus there’s some mountain climbing involved – and climbing a mountain or two in the rain is just not something either of us were thrilled to do.)

We headed to Whakapapa Village, along the west side of the route referred to as the Volcanic Loop.  (Don’t laugh – it’s pronounced fah-kah-PAH-pah – and yes, in our minds it sounds obscene.)  Whakapapa Village is a small town located at the base of Mount Ruapehu, the most active volcano in the region (until neighboring Tongariro erupted a week or two ago).  Whakapapa is about halfway to the ski area – another 6 km beyond the visitor’s center, there was some snow at the ski lift.  And the volcano alert is only a 1, meaning there are signs that Ruapehu is thinking about an eruption, but it doesn’t seem imminent.  (Though volcanoes can be wily, as we all know.)

Anyway, Whakapapa is at 1100 meters above sea level, so it is COLD!  And the same stormy weather that spawned the tornado in Auckland yesterday was still raining and blowing its way across New Zealand, so it was super windy at that elevation.  And horizontal rain.  We spent a few hours in the visitor’s center, which has two films: one covers the Maori legends about the creation of the volcanoes, as well as the history of the national park there (the land was donated by a Maori paramount chief, to become the first NZ national park); the second film was a more scientific explanation of geothermal, volcanic, and seismic activity in general and specifically in this region.  Both films were very interesting, but the stage-set-props for the lava flow had me laughing (a giant plywood mountain with LED chase lights – c’mon now, that would make anyone crack up!).

The weather was still horrible when we left Whakapapa, so we headed south to the National Park Village, then headed north along a state highway named The Alpine Shortcut.  Isn’t that a great name?  Winding roads, dramatic hills and valleys, and through the same area as the Scenic Explorer railroad.

We decided to spend the night in Te Kuiti, a small town (some 4000 people live here) that is the sheep-shearing capital of New Zealand.  (They claim to be the sheep-shearing capital of the world!)  At the south end of town they have this crazy 21 ft high statue (which is quite hideous, and is made of cement-covered Styrofoam!) as well as sheep facts.  Yup.  One day of sheep shearing is equivalent to running a marathon or two, according to heart rate, respiratory rate, and calories expended.  (One might include distance, if the person has to catch all of his sheep.)

There’s also a Maori community center (I think it’s called a paka), and a very interesting pavilion in a park – etched glass shows the history of the area, Maori carvings depict that aspect of history, and stained glass shows other influences.  Really nice – much better than the sheep dude!  (Who, at least, is wearing a shirt featuring the All Blacks rugby team symbol.)

We met two rather drunk 20-something young men – one tried climbing the sheep dude statue, got halfway, jumped down.  I asked if they knew of free wifi in the area, and they ended up walking us down the street to point out the library, where we can find free wifi in the morning.  The two of them were actually quite funny, and we ended up shaking hands goodbye (though I got a little hug from statue-climber guy) – it was very funny!

But typically New Zealand, we’ve found – people are very friendly, very chatty, and we’ve had wonderful conversations with people all over.  We’re frequently asked where we’re from, and few people here know where the Caribbean is.  (One shopkeeper had a wall map, and was amazed that the USVI wasn’t on it!)  We had a nice evening talking to a couple in Mt Maunganui, and the Dutch couple at the motor home farm, and the hotel reception guy in Opononi, and on and on – everyone is friendly, open to chatting, helpful, funny and ready to laugh, full of suggestions about places to visit, and just generally very nice.  We’ve both really enjoyed that aspect of NZ, meeting people and exchanging ideas and laughing and all that.

Taupo to Tongariro

Dec. 6, 2012

Taupo is on, of course, Lake Taupo – the largest freshwater lake in New Zealand and possibly in the southern hemisphere, and, according to what I read, the same size as Singapore. 

Taupo has wonderful public trashcans, recycle bins, and storm sewer emblems.  And the library has some fabulous Maori carvings.

And Taupo has all kinds of outdoor activities – river rafting, skydiving, bungee jumping – but not much to do on a rainy day.  The rainy weather has been following us around New Zealand.  Seriously, we hear that a location has nice weather.  We head there, and have maybe one beautiful afternoon.  Next day, major rain and wind and colder temperatures than they had the previous week.  (At least we aren’t being followed by the natural disasters – when we were up north, Mt. Tongariro erupted unexpectedly.  Now that we’re in the Tongariro area, Auckland had a tornado.  The weather is crazy.)

So, in keeping with our usual policy, a rainy day turned into some internet time and then driving time.  We headed south along the east side of Lake Taupo, on highway 1 to Turangi, then south a bit more (I think to Rangipu - it's difficult to tell because there are towns that aren't on the map, and some of the towns named on the map don't seem to exist!) – and then headed west on the Tongariro Crossing, which is highway 46.  It’s also a famous trek, where people hike across the northern part of the volcanic plateau and climb a few summits along the way – something like a 7 mile trek – there’s no way we’ll even think about doing something like that in the rain.

We were trying to reach the Tongariro National Park, but the wind and rain got the better of us.  We found a quiet little holiday park, and we’re settled in under a pine tree, plugged into the power, and watching birds dig up bugs and worms in the rain.  A few quails have come by, but mostly sparrows, wrens, starlings.  I’ll keep an eye out for kiwi birds, though, tonight – haven’t seen one of those yet. (This morning we saw a very small bird with a fan tail – just a little wren-like bird, but with a huge fanned out tail of little brown and white feathers!  And the previous day, I swear a parrot flew by – large bird with various parts in red, green, blue, and black – a crazy quilt of a bird!)  (And why doesn't Taupo have a trash can with a bird design on it???) 

So, we probably will use the comforters and sleeping bags tonight – it’s going to be a cold one!

Big Rock Candy Mountain Rainbow Moonscape

Dec. 5, 2012

Note:  

This is just a small fraction of the photos – you really need to enlarge them to see the formations and the colors, the place was incredible!

  
We went to Waiotapu (Why-oh-TAH-pooh) today – it means “Sacred Waters” in Maori, and the complex is the colorful and diverse volcanic/geothermal regions in New Zealand.  (The whole region is part of the volcanic plateau that we went by in the train just about a month ago.  The area of volcanic activity stretches
from the actual volcanoes in the center all the way through Taupo and Rotorua and then on into the Bay of Plenty, where there’s a volcanic island.)

Anyway, Waiotapu is an area covered with collapsed craters, cold and boiling pools of mud, water, and steaming fumaroles.  According to the brochure, we only see a small fraction of the geothermal features.  “The area is associated with volcanic activity dating back about 160,000 years and is located right on the edge of the largest volcanic caldera within the active Taupo Volcanic Zone.”  Yup, that’s where I walked, through the volcanic caldera.  Which isn’t extinct – no, this is an alive and bubbling and boiling and hissing and steaming mass of mud and water, all heated by magma way below the surface.  Which is just one of the reasons I never quite believe the status of an extinct volcano.

Richard and I started with the Lady Knox Geyser, named for the daughter of an early governor of the island.  This is a cone built up of silica and limestone from the water that gushes out – inside, there are hot and cold water levels that, when the ranger drops in some soap, mix and create the 30 ft high geyser.  The ranger drops in the soap every day at 10:15 AM, so that they can predict when there will be the eruption and thus stage a show for we tourists.  Otherwise, this geyser doesn’t have a schedule, she just blows when she feels like it.

Then on to the walks – there are three loops, interlocking, so that one can take a short, medium, 
or long walk through the park.  I opted for the longest walk so I could see all three loops – Richard opted to read and nap rather than wander this geologic minefield in the rain.  (He didn’t grow up with a geologist father, so he isn’t as fascinated by this stuff as I am.)

First there’s the crater field – creepy collapsed craters, sides full of crystallized minerals that come up with the steam or boiling mud/water and then adhere to the sides of the rocks

in bright yellow, red-brown, green.  Each crater has its own underground bubbling and thundering rhythm, with the heat and the chemicals eating away at the sides and periodically collapsing further.  They all look like gateways to Hades, and have names like “Devil’s Hole” and “The Inferno.”  

Then there are a series of shallow pools, fed by overflowing water drifting across limestone terraces and fed by underground springs, each with its own color from minerals that the boiling water has leached out of the rocks (it’s that hot!).  Yellows, pales aqua, green, red-brown, white – weird and wonderful all in the same large pools, or all one color with bits of other colors burbling up from underground – and called, of course, Artist’s Palette.  

There’s also the Champagne Pool, constantly fed by underwater vents so that the water bubbles so much it seems as if it is effervescent!  One of the strangest parts is that to continue on the trail, we walk across boardwalks constructed on top of the limestone terraces, with pools
 of variegated water on each side – so that it looks like people are walking on top of the water, with steam rising from every angle.  Out on the boardwalk it isn’t as creepy as it sounds, but from a distance it is very surreal.

Up and down hills and stairs, walking around corners where the path disappears and there are only “do not walk here - 100 degree C - HOT” signs, with eroded sandstone cliffs and shallow pools and terraces where you almost walk on water – the entire place looks like outer space.  Or maybe a movie set of outer space.  I can’t even describe some of the places, except to say it’s weird and wonderful.

And then there are the forests – twisted and gnarled 
trees that look as though they’ve been tortured into shape by the noxious fumes, dead and dying trees asphyxiated by the sulphur in the air.  There’s something very eerie about walking through a quiet forest and hearing boiling and hissing water or mud, and seeing puffs of steam drifting out of the ground at random intervals.  Who knows what else might appear with that underground bubbling and the streams of steam?

A waterfall of milky white water flows into a lake of 
emerald green, mixing into a pale green at its entrance.  Another pool is a lurid chartreuse, almost putrid in it’s bizarre color. 

The ground ranges from average dirt color to bright raw sienna, yellow ochre, bright yellow sulphur mounds, and strips of purple (manganese oxide, according to the brochure).

It took two hours to walk the three loops, in the light rain and with time to try to see everything.  Weird, wonderful, unreal.





    

Plop! Schloop! Glip! Flpppt!

Dec. 4, 2012

We started the day slowly with some internet time at our fave spot, McD’s.  Then we progressed to the Kuirau Park in Rotorua – this is both a botanical and geothermal park, all in one.  Some sections have gorgeous flowers that fill the air with perfume, and make wonderful geometric shapes and beds in the rolling lawns.  Other sections are fenced off with “Warning! Danger!  Thermal zone!” signs, sending out steam and sulphur fumes.  There are bright green pools looking like the Statue of Liberty melted into a huge puddle. Then there might be a milky white pond that really looks like spilled milk.  And then there’d be a circle of bright red roses surrounding a pine tree, next to another steaming fence.  Add in a few shallow hot tubs here and there to soak your feet, complete with wooden benches around the edge for comfort.  Just a very schizophrenic park, both beautiful and weirdly wonderful at the same time.

 

To add to the uniqueness of this park, there was a large group of young men, Maori, learning and practicing a, well, I’m not sure if it’s a haka (the traditional Maori preparing for battle dance) or some other war dance – this is the dance over two crossed sticks, with some kicking back the feet and hopping in and out of the quadrants and pivoting on one foot and some more flicking back of the feet.  The oldest man sat on a tree root and supervised; the next oldest man seemed to be the instructor (and he had the facial tattoos, minus the forehead lines which denote battles won).  The young men learning the steps were mostly in their twenties, some doing a better job than others, all very energetic.  When they finished the practice, they went to one of the hot tubs in the park, all sat with their feet in the tub, and the man with the facial tattoos closed his eyes and began a chant, after some explanation to the class.  I didn’t hear what he said, but I have to say the chanting sounded something like Hebrew liturgy – not exactly the chromatic scale but not off key, just a different scale, a chanted melody rather than complex, and the language is alternating consonant-vowel, always ending on the vowel.  Somehow strangely familiar, and all I could think was that it sounded sort of like synagogue.

 

After that, we drove around a bit, trying to recharge the new battery while looking for a not-to-pricey holiday park, but they all seemed to be more than we wanted to pay.  We finally found an area about 25 km south of Rotorua, the turn off for where we’re headed tomorrow morning – a “geothermal wonderland” with craters, geysers, mud pools, steaming pits, all that.  Had dinner at the tavern, chatted with the owner, he said okay to our freedom camping in the parking lot.

Then we took off to see the nearby mud pools.  This is one of those geological features that seems to be straight from the moon – a huge field of mud and water, burping and belching and shooting mud in weird shapes, making mini volcanoes and islands out of the mud and then exploding into showers of mud and starting all over again.  Seriously, it sounds like a class of 7^th grade boys making every rude noise they ever imagined (and trust me, I know 7^th grade boys well!).  At the same time, it’s really funny, because you’ll see a flat island start to bulge and then schlooooopft! It explodes and mud goes flying and it might explode several times, in increasing violence and sound, until it settles down for a few minutes.  Then multiply that by twenty or thirty or fifty of these explosive mounds, and you have the mud pools.

My favorite was a flat island about 10-15 feet from the edge of the pit, which would sit dormant for about five minutes.  Then it would give off a few little spurts and sputters, suddenly spout and explode and shoot mud everywhere, to the point that it actually would explode itself apart into nothingness – then suddenly it would burble back to the surface, a flat little island, and sit quietly for another five or ten minutes until it would bubble and burble itself apart again.  It was almost like watching a fast-motion film of a volcano being created – very cool!  I watched it create and disappear over and over again – the only thing that stopped me was the rain, which somehow sped up the mud explosions.

I know, boiling hot mud and steam doesn’t sound as if it could capture anyone’s attention for very long – but seriously, this was mesmerizing stuff!  It was funny and weird and other-worldly with just a hint of gross in there!  Plus trying to catch one of these mid-explosion took a great deal of concentration and patience (and steady hands and quick reflexes).

I’m hoping for more exploding mud tomorrow!

And remember to click on photos if you want to see them enlarged - the exploding mud really is funny when big!