Adam's Adventures in NZ: Episode II: The Attack of the Climbs

Geothermal Vents and boiling lakes of fire.

According to Joseph Campbell's theory of Monomyth, or more commonly known as The Hero's Journey, before receiving the "boon" which moves the hero from simple mortal to mythic figure, it is a requirement that said hero must first endure a trip through the underworld, either physically (as is the case with Ulysses and Aeneas,) or figuratively (such as Luke Skywalker's descent and long through the lower levels of Cloud City.) On my Unheroic Journey, I felt a literal journey through the land of the dead would probably have been a bit too extreme (and only one airline flies there, Charon Airlines, and their prices are outrageous. I mean 2 Denarii? Really?). Anyway, I settled for a journey through New Zealand. After all, when one is already in the land down under how much further down can one go? (answer: New Zealand)

I began my journey on the North Island of this bold new (under)world. So after departing the disappointing city that is Auckland, like Perseus, I set out in my rental car(s) on my most current of adventures. Over the next two and a half weeks I would find myself faced with not only some of the most amazing natural wonders I have ever seen, but some of the most deadly. I say deadly, only because when one journeys through the Land of the Kiwi, you cannot help but keep it somewhere in the back of your mind that at any point the ground may literally give way from under your feet. Whether your eventual end come from volcanic fissures, violent upheavals of weather, and of course earthquakes, there are plenty of fun and interesting ways to go.

Most of these severe conditions are due to New Zealand's volatile placement in the Ring of Fire (The series of converging tectonic plates located around the Pacific Ocean, but they are fond of Johnny Cash as well).
It is funny how you can realize something on an intellectual level, but the truth of a knowledge isn't dully realized till you find yourself in a place such as New Zealand. For me such an epiphany came when I arrive in the town of Rotorua. The sewers and grates on the street were venting steam, and my initial thought was, "Well its a cold day, and this sort of thing is natural in New York City on cold days. Maybe a lot of people have their dryers running."

It wasn't until I made a further inspection (led by the sulfurous smell of rotten eggs) that I discovered that the streets of this seemingly normal and widely-populated (By Kiwi standards) town were in fact venting not steam, but geothermic ash and smoke. It is sort of a cold realization that comes over you when you realize you are staying at hostel that is built in a town that is built over a very young and rather active geothermal vent (IE, a volcano that has not happened yet.)

Featured above are my New Zealand rental cars
Top: Gandalf the Grey
Bottom: Gandalf the Powderd Blue

So, instead of leaving well enough alone (because what fun is that,) I got back in my car and tramped my way out to the Waimangu Volcanic Valley, which was only a few miles down the road. The valley claims to be the world's newest geothermal system (in other words it could blow at any time.) So I was overcharged for a small brochure and vague directions that led me to a walking trail where I could explore the vent system to my heart's content. It is not until you are staring at a boiling bubbling lake, (which I know from personal experience, is hot to the touch) surrounded by mountains venting steam and ash like a chimney that you suddenly realize how vulnerable we as humans are to the whim of our mother planet. All along the walking and climbing routes in Waimangu there were "evacuation" points where one was to run to in case something happened. As if my running to a bus stop was going to save me from a massive implosion of superheated gases being channeled directly from the Earth's fiery interior. Still, as unnerving as it can be to walk (in other words, climb) around massive craters with names like. Inferno Crater, Explosion Crater, and Echo Crater (okay that last one isn't too intimidating,) it can also be startlingly beautiful. I suppose growing up in New Jersey I have grown accustomed to a sort of singleness of nature.

Sure New Jersey has its seasons and its temperaments, but no one walking the boardwalks of Atlantic City, driving along the Garden State Parkway, or marrying their cousin in the Pinelands ever has to worry about the ground suddenly opening up a portal that leads directly to a fiery hell. (After all, we already have a portal to hell in New Jersey, its called Camden.)

However, if I -along the course of my quest across New Zealand- needed further reminder of this unremarkable uniqueness, danger, and beauty of this country, than there was no better place to find it than at one of my next stops, Tongariro National Park. It is one of the most famous parks in New Zealand, mostly for its eight-hour hiking walk called the Tongariro Alpine Crossing which is touted as one of the most beautiful hikes in the world. I unfortunately was not fully prepared to embark on this particular walk, as the journey does lead you above 1,500 feet, and I had no clothing or provisions to tackle the snow which I would have encountered at such heights, and the weather was not really great. Still, I did do the beginning part of the hike (which found me laboriously climbing to only smaller heights such as 1,000 feet), which was rife with reminders and instructions of what to do in case of an eruption as one of the park's main attractions Mt. Ngāuruhoe, the still and active volcano that last erupted in 1975 (Basically, get out of the path of lava flows). However, I was not fully deterred from reaching greater heights as I found I could drive up to the peaks of one of the park's mountains (or as close as you can get to it).

The road was treacherous, as the day was misty (its always misty in New Zealand), cloudy, and of course wet. The roads were narrow and full of sharp turns, but despite all that I navigated them with all the skill I have acquired over the sum of my driving experience in Australia and New Zealand. There was only once when I nearly lost control, and that was when the cloud parted to reveal an off white shape. At first I thought it was just a peculiar cloud formation hidden behind a grayer cloud formation, but I soon realized that what I mistook for the whiteness of a cloud was in fact snow. I suppose I have never seen the jagged snow-capped peak of a true mountain so up close before, because the sight was simply unbelievable. I found myself gazing at a true mountain in all sense of the world. Its white top and imposing features only served to intensify my sudden feeling of smallness and insignificance when faced with the awesome time-spanning power of nature. (I think I elegantly summed it all up in a loud uncontrolled expletive that started with "s" and ended with "t.") More amazingly, amidst all the ice, snow, mist, and volcanic debris there exists a world of natural life. In a place where everything could go horribly wrong in so many ways, plants and animals seem to not only survive but thrive in the nutrient rich soil of snow covered volcanoes.

Waitomo Glowworm Caves

Yet, that seems to be the norm in the country. Life exists where it shouldn't which was best illustrated to me at the Waitomo Glowworm Caves. If you have just read that name and are a little confused, do not be. The caves are exactly what they sound like. Basically, you take a tour through darkened caves learning the history of the caves and the insect known as the glowworm (the small larval form an ugly insect that glows its tail to attract food) before boarding a boat and setting off down a darkened river overhead which you see one of the most amazing natural sights you can imagine. I can only describe it as looking at the nighttime sky with thousands of small points of light glowing down at you, only you are in a cave. The ceiling of the cave is literally covered in glowworms each casting their soft-light for all to see. Unfortunately, cameras were not allowed as they would disrupt the small creatures, but you will have to take my word that is was one of the weirdest and most amazing things I have seen (as far as insects go.) To me it seemed only a small reminder that the world is full of so much strangeness and wonder.

New Zealand is a place unlike any other. On the plus side since New Zealand was once full submerged below the sea there are no snakes or spiders that could potentially kill a man in a matter of moments, unlike Australia, (on the downside, you still need to avoid the lava flows.) Yet, nature here can still be violent and beautiful, astounding and even downright bizarre at times, but if there is one thing this country teaches a traveler is that you cannot underestimate or under appreciate the world on which we live. I mean if you ever do, that is probably when it will kill you.