The first day of our tramp was wet and grey, but without a whisper of wind. We climbed above the treeline to just under 1600 metres, and were surrounded by lichen and other alpine plants in subtle shades of red, yellow and green. No views of Ngaruahoe, Ruapehu or Tongariro, but there were compensations. We were walking through the clouds; we watched tubes of cloud roll up the valleys below us and patches of sunlight light up the opposite hillsides. It was an otherworldly landscape; a spectral mix of rock, cloud and light.
On the second morning we woke to sunlight on frosty ground: not a cloud in the sky, and brilliant sunshine. The trip down the river was a wet one but a lot of fun. The water was fast, deep and crystal clear—sometimes white water and sometimes pools of aqua green. After a few hours the valley opened out to tussock flats, a yellow carpet against walls of green beech.
Two days, and two totally different landscapes.
We camped beside the river not far from the Urchin track and watched the setting sun turn the hills a delicate shade of pink. I got up early on the last morning and wandered off upriver enjoying the stillness. The water was liquid silver and the trees looked painted onto the hillsides.
We did get to see the snow-covered volcanos on the downhill trek to the bus—pretty impressive even though their tops were sliced off by cloud. But even more compelling for me were the beech trees; so many fallen giants in various stages of decomposition, so many still-standing giants also in various stages of decomposition, and the contorted trunks of other plants and trees establishing themselves in the wreckage.
Didn’t want to leave, just waiting to go back.