
Mt Ruapehu
Alistair Ross
Mt Ruapehu is an active volcano in Tongariro National Park, just south of Lake
Taupo in the centre of the North Island. It's ringed by forest, tussock lands,
desert and glaciers, and in the winter its snowfields and peaks are used by
thousands of skiers and climbers. Usually it's a sleeping giant, but
occasionally it reminds us of the titanic forces that have created New
Zealand and which are still at work below us.

About 80 kilometres below the central North Island, the crust of the
descending Pacific plate melts, and hot rock pushes up towards the surface.
The result is the chain of volcanoes and thermal areas stretching from
Ruapehu and Lake Taupo to Rotorua and out to White Island at sea. Recent
sea-floor surveys have shown that there are undersea volcanic mounts and
thermal vents roughly in a line to the Kermadec Islands and beyond towards
Tonga.
Mt Ruapehu is the largest and most southerly in this chain. Built up over
hundreds of thousands of years, it is also the highest point in the North
Island, at 2,797 metres in elevation. It has a lake in its summit crater
which was once a nice spot for a hot soak, but is now dangerously acidic
thanks to the most recent eruptions, in September/October 1995 and June
1996, which billowed towering clouds of ash over the surrounding countryside
and sent glowing boulders bouncing down the slopes. It completely ruined the
ski season in 1996 and jets had to make detours out to sea to avoid the clouds
of ash. Although it is capable of cataclysmic eruptions, the most dangerous
aspect of Ruapehu's volcanic nature has been the flows of water, mud, rocks
and ice, called lahars, which have swept down its slopes from the crater
lake. On Christmas Eve of 1953, a lahar burst out through an ice cave under
a glacier, swept down the Whangaehu River, and took out a railway bridge at
Tangiwai. Only a short time later, a train carrying holiday makers to
Auckland plunged off the broken bridge into the raging torrent of mud,
ice and boulders. One hundred and fifty-one people died. Fittingly Tangiwai
means 'weeping water'. The next lahar is a matter of when rather than if,
and scientists maintain a network of sensors and warning systems to avoid
a repeat of the Tangiwai disaster.

Maori tradition tells that Ngatoro-i-rangi caused fire to come to the
mountains. He was the tohunga or high priest of the Te Arawa canoe,
which had travelled from the ancestral Maori homeland of Hawaiki.
While he was exploring the area with his slave Ngauruhoe, he stocked
Lake Taupo with fish through magic incantation and then climbed
Mt Tongariro to claim the region for his tribe. A blizzard blew up
and he called to his sisters in Hawaiki to send him fire. The sacred
flame they sent burst out firstly in the sea, creating White Island,
and then out of the land, forming the thermal areas around Rotorua and
Taupo, before finally bringing the cold mountains to roaring life. The
eruptions saved Ngatoro-i-rangi from the cold, but it was too late for
Ngauruhoe, after whom the mountain adjoining Tongariro is named.
Mt Ruapehu is part of Tongariro National Park, the country's first,
dating from 1894. In the late 1800s, Te Heuheu Tukino IV, paramount
chief of the local Ngati Tuwharetoa tribe, rightly saw the encroaching
European colonists and the desires of other tribes as a threat to the
mountains, which were sacred (tapu) to Ngati Tuwharetoa. Through the
passion of his oratory he convinced the other tribes not to claim the
mountains, but feared that the Europeans would get hold of them and
cut them up into sheep paddocks. In 1887, in an act of great vision,
he gifted Mounts Tongariro, Ngauruhoe and Ruapehu to the nation to
become a national park and thus preserved the sacred mountains of his
people forever. In 1894 an act of parliament was passed that created
Tongariro National Park - the first in New Zealand and the fourth such
park in the world. Today it covers over 80,000 hectares with a diversity
of ecosystems, a network of tracks and huts and three skifields. It is a
deservedly popular area. The crossing of Mt Tongariro is undertaken as a
daywalk by hundreds of people a day in summer, while in winter thousands
of people flock to the skifields of Ruapehu.

The current vegetation patterns in the park have been shaped over millenia
by successive eruptions. One of the most dramatic was an eruption of the
Taupo volcano (Lake Taupo is its crater) in 186 AD. This blasted the central
North Island with over 100 cubic kilometres of incandescent rock, ash and
pumice. Much of the vegetation was scoured from the park and a lot of the
rest was blanketed in metres of pumice. Forest on the south side of Ruapehu
survived and has re-colonised the west side of the mountain, but the harsh
climate and strong winds have kept much of the rest as scrublands or tussock.
There is even a large area of rocky desert on the eastern slopes. This is
partly because the prevailing winds bring rain from the west or south-west
(about 2,500 mm a year on those sides), whereas the eastern side is mostly
in the mountain's rain shadow and so receives very little. Being an alpine
area, the park is prone to strong winds and sudden weather changes. I recall
reading about a backpacker who set off on a sunny day wearing jeans.
A southerly change with rain and icy winds caught him on an exposed
ridgeline. He became hypothermic and his body was found the next day.
Several years ago most members of an Army training squad died when
they were caught out by bad conditions on the summit of Ruapehu.
Thousands of people tramp in the park every year though, especially
on the 'Great Northern Circuit' over Tongariro, but the route around
Mt Ruapehu is less popular.

In February 1996 we spent six days tramping the circuit around Mt Ruapehu.
We began on the south-west side, on the Ohakune Mountain Road, and walked
through beech forest and patches of tussock to the Mangaehuehu Hut, where
there was one other tramper and a beautiful view of the sunset. The tramp
on to Rangipo Hut on the east side of Ruapehu was a tough day. We crossed
over a dozen valleys, most with unstable rocky sides, and when we came to
the second-to-last big one (pictured), I was so depressed at having to
descend another rocky, shifting valley slope and then climb up the other
side that I sat down and fell asleep for 15 minutes. It is scenery of a
bleak dry grandeur that is found nowhere else in New Zealand and brought
to mind documentaries on the Valley of the Kings in Egypt that I'd seen
as a child.

The Rangipo Hut was excellent, with expansive views (elevation 1,560 metres),
and we had it to ourselves apart from a few giant blowflies. In the tranquility
and silence of the morning sun we walked across the desert and down into the
valley of the Whangaehu River. This sulphurous river runs between cliffs of
hard volcanic rock and usually drains the overflow of Ruapehu's crater lake.
There was a fine strong bridge across it, but apparently this has since been
swept away by a lahar during an eruption. Heading north across the access
road to Tukino skifield, the moonscape of the desert with its weird, jagged
volcanic features slowly gave way to a covering of scrub and short trees.
The next stop was the New Waihohonu Hut, which is also part of the more popular
Tongariro circuit. It was full (36 people!) and to our dismay included a group
of youths on a Taranaki Young Offenders 'journey of self-discovery' programme.
Their guide had his own tent and wisely slept outside away from them. At one
am they were still sniffing butane from their cigarette lighters and
threatening to do obscene things to each other. I'm sure some of them
gained a great deal from the experience of tramping there, but none of
the rest of us in the hot, crowded hut that night gained much from our
experience of them (when we got back to Auckland we went out and bought
ourselves a tent).

The track from there to Whakapapa Village provided great views of Ngauruhoe
quite close and Ruapehu further away (pictured earlier in the article). It's
a long walk through a flattish, semi-arid scrubland of tussock, shrubs and
dry stream beds, so in Whakapapa Village we stopped at a cafe for afternoon
tea before hitching a ride up the Bruce Road and continuing on down to the
Whakapapaiti Hut. There were only two people there and it was surrounded by
beautiful beech forest - quite a relief after the overcrowding at the New
Waihohonu Hut and the barren lands we'd walked through. The Whakapapaiti
valley itself (pictured) is a grand landscape of rugged cliffs rising to
the snowfields above.

The track from Whakapapaiti to Mangaturuturu Hut stays mostly above the
bushline and crosses several valleys before descending past the aptly
named Lake Surprise (pictured) into the Mangaturuturu Valley. We met
no other people on the track that day. There would have been great
views to the west and possibly Mt Taranaki on the coast, but it rained
a lot and the track was severely eroded and tricky in places, so we
didn't see much apart from the track and its immediate environs.
Mangaturuturu Hut is fairly compact, but happily there were only
3 other trampers in the hut so there was plenty of room for us all.
It's a nice hut, but the toilet was gross. When I sat down on it,
what seemed like dozens of giant, furry, black blowflies flew up
and out between my legs, brushing against me as they went - yech!
It was almost enough to give a bloke a phobia!

From the Mangaturuturu Hut to the Ohakune Mountain Road is just a short
climb across boardwalked swamps and then up by the beautiful channels and
pools that the headwaters of the Mangaturuturu River have carved into the
rock. We basked in the sun for a while before the shuttle came to take us
back to Ohakune. The solitude we had found on Ruapehu was a wonderful thing
in a busy world.
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