Aspiring to Greatness

After lazing around Wanaka for a while, I was eager to head back into the wilderness and get my tramp on. So, I decided to make a brief (2-3 day) trip into Mt. Aspiring National Park. It's one of the best places in NZ to experience the alpine beauty of the Southern Alps, and Wanaka has convenient access to the park's Matukituki Valley region, so it all came together pretty well.

I was all geared up and ready to go on Saturday morning when I jumped in Blue Steel and...she wouldn't start! Not only would she not start, but the engine wouldn't even turn over. Each turn of the key yielded no response.

SHIT!!!

After an unsuccessful jump start attempt, I walked over to the local service station to ask for advice. The mechanic guessed that something might be wrong with the starter motor, but said that their only "sparky" (electrical expert) was off duty that day and wouldn't be back in until Monday. But he suggested that I pop the hood and give the starter motor a few good taps with a wrench, just to see if that helped.

Well, it sounded like lame advice, and I was trying to get comfortable with the idea of being stranded a few more days in Wanaka, but I figured I should give it a try anyways. After tapping the hell out of the starter motor, I unenthusiastically got back in the driver's seat and gave it a try. And it worked! I was amazed. I never got the name of that Wanaka mechanic, but whoever you are, you are a prince among men.

Anyways, after that ordeal I drove to the Raspberry Creek carpark in Mt. Aspiring National Park and started my hike. It began with a 4-hour tramp through the Shovel and Pearl Flats in the Matukituki Valley, with the peaks of the Southern Alps surrounding me on both sides. I could see glaciers and snow fields at high altitudes, and each of these spawned spectacular glacial waterfalls that cascaded all the way down into the valley.

Here is a shot of the Matukituki Valley as I was crossing the flats:

After passing the flats, I began the gruelling, 1200-meter ascent up the side of Mt. Barff to the Liverpool Hut. (Yes, I did chuckle a bit at the fact that I was climbing Mt. Barff, although I was slightly disappointed that there was no Mt. Poopp or Mt. Snott nearby). It was a real knee-bender of a climb...far more difficult than anything I had done previously. And it only got harder when it started drizzling at around 500 meters. Yowza. Anyways, you can imagine that I was relieved to finally reach the tiny, 6-bunk Liverpool Hut, shown in this photo:

I had to wonder if the location of the hut was the result of a dare or something, because it was basically perched on a ridge above the treeline in the middle of nowhere. But the surroundings lent a truly rugged and remote air to the place, and it was a great place to spot to spend the night.

While in the hut, I occupied myself by compiling a short list of humorous log book comments. See, each DOC hut has a log book that is filled out by anyone who visits the hut, and each line includes a "comments" field where trampers write, well, whatever they feel like. It's often quite entertaining to read these entries:

• "Kiwis are the closest God ever came to creating a Pokemon."
• "We are under attack! They came in the night and started banging on the door and window. Big keas (irritating alpine parrots) with madness in their eyes!"
• "Hope the giant rat doesn't come and the men don't snore."
• "Came in search of alpine whores but didn't find any. Saw a kea but couldn't root it."
• "Resident mouse can kiss my ass."
• "It's like snefling with puf the rop." (Note: I think psychotropic drugs may have been involved with this comment).

The views from the hut were also quite good, although high cloud prevented me from getting a clear glimpse of Mt. Aspiring:

Anyways, it rained like a mofo all night and it was quite cold in the morning, so I was getting a little nervous about the weather. I wasn't cool with the idea of being stuck in the hut, so I decided to descend Mt. Barff on Sunday. This turned out to be an excellent idea, because when I met another group of hikers on the way down and asked if they knew the forecast, they said "snow and hail." Wow, glad I didn't stick around for that. Even though there was no solid precipitation, it still rained all the way down, which made the descent awfully perilous, probably the most dangerous stunt I have yet attempted in NZ.

An unfortunate side effect of the tramp was that my boots got kinda shredded on the way up...they both have holes now! So I'm thinking I might give tramping a break for a while, unless I'm sure the weather is going to be good. I feel like I'm sort of drifting at the moment, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Updates to follow, of course.