The clouds were hanging low in the sky on the morning of the 22nd of January when I had planned to hike the Tongariro Crossing. I woke up at 5AM and got myself and my gear ready so that I could meet the bus at 6:20. I packed my SLR in my Camelback hydration pack (compliments of friends at B&D) as well as my Gore-Tex jacket and my leather hiking boots. I wanted to travel light, but decided it was better to be prepared for any weather rather than to be caught unprepared in a rain storm or to be cold on the mountain. I walked to the appointed meeting place and at 6:20 I got onto the bus that arrived. After paying, I realized that I was not on the bus that I had booked with, but instead on a clever competitor’s bus which was making the rounds at the same time. I wasn’t the only one to make this mistake, but as long as it got me to the trailhead early and picked me up at the end of the day, it really didn’t matter. Actually, the bus that I boarded worked out better because it wasn’t at all crowded and it arrived and departed at better times than the original bus that I had booked.
After finally leaving the town, the bus made the long drive to the start of the trail through the dense fog which covered the land. As we drove, the driver explained to us that we could not drink the water on the mountain because it would make us sick and he offered to stop at a store if anyone needed to buy water. He explained that we had several options for pickup times at the end of the trail and that we shouldn’t worry about the dense fog because it would clear soon. We arrived at the trailhead around 7:15 and I was disappointed to see a half dozen busses and lots of people already there. So much for going early to beat the crowds.
After a quick stop, I walked through the crowds of people milling about the trailhead and got onto the trail. After seeing how many people were about, my initial plan was to hike quickly to pass the slower walkers so that I could walk by myself which is more appealing to me than spending the day in a crowd of hikers. I remember when I was a young Boy scout, I went on a trip to hike up a mountain in New Hampshire. During the hike, my friends and I urgently tried to walk fast to stay ahead of another troop much to the aggravation of our leader and it didn’t work out. Nor did it on the Crossing. Everyone had arrived at different times so that there was no way that I was passing everyone since so many people were ahead of me. So I settled down to my normal walking pace and enjoyed the walk. I wound up always being around the same people who would pass me when I stopped to take a photo and vice versa.
The first hour of the tramp was spent hiking through the dense fog along a sand and stone trail through fields of randomly shaped volcanic rock. I didn’t mind the fog as much during this part of the hike because it made the whole experience surreal. Walking past lava flows and sharp rock formations of random shapes, made the early morning landscape seem like a dream world. The gurgle of water to the left betrayed the existence of a small creak but otherwise the stillness of it all was only punctuated by footfalls on the gravel path. Off to the sides, I could catch glimpses of hills and rock formations which faded in and out of the fog, but nothing more was to be seen. The only vegetation that I could see was moss and the occasional tussock. It was very easy to see why Peter Jackson chose this park to be the set for Mordor in the Lord of the Rings movies.
The track wound its way through the rock formations until eventually coming to a bowl shaped area with tall walls of rocks that I could glimpse through the mists. The trail began a rapid ascent up one of the walls, climbing from 1400m up to 1600m on a section of the trail called the devil’s staircase. Loose, volcanic rocks were underfoot and I gained height quickly with every step. The sharp, loose rocks that were dislodged with every step bit into my boots (but not my feet), scratching the leather making me glad that I had real hiking boots rather than low boots or sneakers. At one point, I looked back over the plain and was lucky enough to catch an opening in the clouds which revealed the valley through which I had hiked for a few seconds. But then the clouds came rushing back in and everything was white once more.
I arrived at the top of the ladder to find a lot of people sitting in a flat area to take a breather after the climb. The fog was still limiting visibility to about 20 feet, but it was clear enough to read a sign warning that recent seismic activity had made it unsafe to climb to the crater of Mt Ngauruhoe due to the release of poisonous gasses. Because of the fog, I never even realized that it was here that a side track departed from the main track if you wanted to climb to the crater. However, our driver had advised against climbing to the summit due to the poor visibility in the mist. I would later learn that a whole group of school children had tried to make the climb, but they became disoriented in the fog and the trail was not well marked. Fortunately, they were only lost for a few hours.
I took advantage of the fact that most people stopped for a break to press on alone to the next part of the track. I walked across a wide, flat expanse of sand. For all that I knew, the expanse of sand could have gone on forever because all that I could see around me was mist with darkness beyond. The mists swirled around my feet as it raced over the sand, propelled by the wind. The racing mists gave the impression of speed even though I was walking slowly and the still dampness of the air swallowed the smallest sound. The trail was marked by poles stuck into the ground and as I passed by one, I could see another at the edge of the mists which was the only indication that I was going the right way and not wandering aimlessly through this dream world.
I arrived at another steep climb up a rock wall just as a gap in the clouds behind me raced across
the plain that I had just crossed, revealing the sand and other trampers before the sun disappeared again. I climbed the hill and once I got to the top, I walked to what had to be the edge of a cliff, beyond which there was nothing. I stopped here to change socks because the thick rag socks that I had on were too stretched out and were threatening to give me blisters as they bunched around my feet. Fortunately (or stupidly depending on the viewpoint) I knew that this would happen and had brought another pair of socks. However, it turned out to be a very serendipitous thing that I had to 
make this stop because as I stood on the precipice, the clouds opened up revealing bright, blue skies and the cone of Mt Ngauruhoe which stood out above the clouds. It was startlingly quick transformation from bleakness to beauty. Also revealed, was the very deep Red Crater below where I was standing. Yipes. I quickly took out my camera and shot away, fearing that the clear skies would disappear. However, my fears never came true because once broken, the clouds cleared entirely leaving the sky clear and blue for the rest of the tramp. Everything was timed perfectly because I would have been very disappointed if I had not been able to see the surrounding mountains from this vantage point.
The trail continued upwards and skirted along the top of a narrow hill of rock. It was around
here that a side track led to the Tongairo summit, but I never saw the side track. The winds up there were ferocious and I had to hold onto my bag to keep the jacket that I had stashed in one of the pockets from being torn out and blown down the mountain. Once I got to the top of the hill, I could look down upon the flat valley floor of the Central Crater below. To the left I could clearly see old lava flows which were like platforms of continuous, black rock that stood out in contrast to the sandy floor of the valley. To the right were the Emerald Lakes which were round pools of brilliant colors in the black rocks. On the rock wall on the other side of the valley I could see the large, Blue Lake beyond which the landscape descended again, giving the impression that the lake was floating at the top of the mountain. The view was fantastic with the blue and green waters contrasting with the black rocks and the blue skies and mountains in the distance.
The track descended down a steep hill of loose scoria which people were hesitant to walk on because you sank into the small rocks slid downwards with every footstep. But, thanks to my high boots, the rocks never got into my boots because the tops of my boots never sank below the rocks. I could take long strides and sort of float lazily walk down the hill with my camera in one hand.
I walked over to the very alluring Emerald lakes which were each about 30 feet in diameter. The air smelled of sulfur thanks to the vents nearby. The blue, green and yellow color of the lakes is caused by minerals which have leached out of the surrounding rocks.
Despite the hues, the water was very clear so that you could easily see to the bottom. One pool had a yellow ring by the shore because the sediment was a yellow color, but then gave way to blue at the middle of the pool.
From the lakes, the track continued across the sandy floor of the crater towards the other side of the bowl of rocks that ringed the crater, about a mile distant. The sand of the floor was littered with rocks and other than the well worn trail, the area looked as it had never been disturbed. To my left was the black rock of the
lava flows that had oozed out of the Red Crater and had been frozen in time when the lava cooled. I climbed up the side of the crater and could look back at the volcanic cones and the range of snow covered mountains behind me. The trail continued on past Blue Lack and entered into a valley through which I could see the surrounding country side and lakes below me. The clouds that were crossing the countryside were below the mountains on which I stood, giving an indication of the height of where I was standing.
From this point, the track began a descent down the side of the mountain, leaving the volcanic
world behind. There was a series of long switchbacks that gently arced back and forth across the fields of tussocks on the side of the mountain. The day was getting warmer and I had to take off the last of my warm gear and apply sunscreen to my bare arms and legs because there were no trees at all to offer protection from the sun in a land with no ozone layer above it. Eventually I arrived at a hut with bathrooms where people could rest and get filtered water. From there, the track continued to descend and I could see white steam rising from bare patches of rocks and canyons that looked like rough gashes in the hills. These were areas where thermal vents had broken through the ground, killing the vegetations and looking like lesions on the sides of the tussock covered hills. The track entered into an area of hot springs and flowing creeks of water. The water in the creeks stained the rocks over which it flowed bright orange and red. Signs warned that the track was crossing private property that belonged to a thermal spa and urged trampers to resist walking off the trail in search of springs in which to relax.
The track continued to descend along the very warm side of the hill. There were some points where the track was below the ground level which prevented the cooling wind from alleviating the heat. Fortunately, there were few of these. Finally, the track descended into the cover of the forest for the last leg of the walk. I walked past roaring streams and waterfalls for the last hour before arriving at a shelter at the end of the track.
The tramp took me about 6 1/4 hours and it had been about 3 3/4 hours since I had arrived at the top of the track. Others took less time. I had about an hour to wait for my bus which was disappointing because had hoped to make the side trips up the volcanoes rather than sitting, but those trips will have to wait till the next time that I can make the tramp. I cant wait to walk it again, especially during the winter when the track is less populated and the snow will be covering everything.
After finally leaving the town, the bus made the long drive to the start of the trail through the dense fog which covered the land. As we drove, the driver explained to us that we could not drink the water on the mountain because it would make us sick and he offered to stop at a store if anyone needed to buy water. He explained that we had several options for pickup times at the end of the trail and that we shouldn’t worry about the dense fog because it would clear soon. We arrived at the trailhead around 7:15 and I was disappointed to see a half dozen busses and lots of people already there. So much for going early to beat the crowds.
After a quick stop, I walked through the crowds of people milling about the trailhead and got onto the trail. After seeing how many people were about, my initial plan was to hike quickly to pass the slower walkers so that I could walk by myself which is more appealing to me than spending the day in a crowd of hikers. I remember when I was a young Boy scout, I went on a trip to hike up a mountain in New Hampshire. During the hike, my friends and I urgently tried to walk fast to stay ahead of another troop much to the aggravation of our leader and it didn’t work out. Nor did it on the Crossing. Everyone had arrived at different times so that there was no way that I was passing everyone since so many people were ahead of me. So I settled down to my normal walking pace and enjoyed the walk. I wound up always being around the same people who would pass me when I stopped to take a photo and vice versa.
The first hour of the tramp was spent hiking through the dense fog along a sand and stone trail through fields of randomly shaped volcanic rock. I didn’t mind the fog as much during this part of the hike because it made the whole experience surreal. Walking past lava flows and sharp rock formations of random shapes, made the early morning landscape seem like a dream world. The gurgle of water to the left betrayed the existence of a small creak but otherwise the stillness of it all was only punctuated by footfalls on the gravel path. Off to the sides, I could catch glimpses of hills and rock formations which faded in and out of the fog, but nothing more was to be seen. The only vegetation that I could see was moss and the occasional tussock. It was very easy to see why Peter Jackson chose this park to be the set for Mordor in the Lord of the Rings movies.The track wound its way through the rock formations until eventually coming to a bowl shaped area with tall walls of rocks that I could glimpse through the mists. The trail began a rapid ascent up one of the walls, climbing from 1400m up to 1600m on a section of the trail called the devil’s staircase. Loose, volcanic rocks were underfoot and I gained height quickly with every step. The sharp, loose rocks that were dislodged with every step bit into my boots (but not my feet), scratching the leather making me glad that I had real hiking boots rather than low boots or sneakers. At one point, I looked back over the plain and was lucky enough to catch an opening in the clouds which revealed the valley through which I had hiked for a few seconds. But then the clouds came rushing back in and everything was white once more.
I arrived at the top of the ladder to find a lot of people sitting in a flat area to take a breather after the climb. The fog was still limiting visibility to about 20 feet, but it was clear enough to read a sign warning that recent seismic activity had made it unsafe to climb to the crater of Mt Ngauruhoe due to the release of poisonous gasses. Because of the fog, I never even realized that it was here that a side track departed from the main track if you wanted to climb to the crater. However, our driver had advised against climbing to the summit due to the poor visibility in the mist. I would later learn that a whole group of school children had tried to make the climb, but they became disoriented in the fog and the trail was not well marked. Fortunately, they were only lost for a few hours.
I took advantage of the fact that most people stopped for a break to press on alone to the next part of the track. I walked across a wide, flat expanse of sand. For all that I knew, the expanse of sand could have gone on forever because all that I could see around me was mist with darkness beyond. The mists swirled around my feet as it raced over the sand, propelled by the wind. The racing mists gave the impression of speed even though I was walking slowly and the still dampness of the air swallowed the smallest sound. The trail was marked by poles stuck into the ground and as I passed by one, I could see another at the edge of the mists which was the only indication that I was going the right way and not wandering aimlessly through this dream world.
I arrived at another steep climb up a rock wall just as a gap in the clouds behind me raced across
the plain that I had just crossed, revealing the sand and other trampers before the sun disappeared again. I climbed the hill and once I got to the top, I walked to what had to be the edge of a cliff, beyond which there was nothing. I stopped here to change socks because the thick rag socks that I had on were too stretched out and were threatening to give me blisters as they bunched around my feet. Fortunately (or stupidly depending on the viewpoint) I knew that this would happen and had brought another pair of socks. However, it turned out to be a very serendipitous thing that I had to 
make this stop because as I stood on the precipice, the clouds opened up revealing bright, blue skies and the cone of Mt Ngauruhoe which stood out above the clouds. It was startlingly quick transformation from bleakness to beauty. Also revealed, was the very deep Red Crater below where I was standing. Yipes. I quickly took out my camera and shot away, fearing that the clear skies would disappear. However, my fears never came true because once broken, the clouds cleared entirely leaving the sky clear and blue for the rest of the tramp. Everything was timed perfectly because I would have been very disappointed if I had not been able to see the surrounding mountains from this vantage point.The trail continued upwards and skirted along the top of a narrow hill of rock. It was around
here that a side track led to the Tongairo summit, but I never saw the side track. The winds up there were ferocious and I had to hold onto my bag to keep the jacket that I had stashed in one of the pockets from being torn out and blown down the mountain. Once I got to the top of the hill, I could look down upon the flat valley floor of the Central Crater below. To the left I could clearly see old lava flows which were like platforms of continuous, black rock that stood out in contrast to the sandy floor of the valley. To the right were the Emerald Lakes which were round pools of brilliant colors in the black rocks. On the rock wall on the other side of the valley I could see the large, Blue Lake beyond which the landscape descended again, giving the impression that the lake was floating at the top of the mountain. The view was fantastic with the blue and green waters contrasting with the black rocks and the blue skies and mountains in the distance.
The track descended down a steep hill of loose scoria which people were hesitant to walk on because you sank into the small rocks slid downwards with every footstep. But, thanks to my high boots, the rocks never got into my boots because the tops of my boots never sank below the rocks. I could take long strides and sort of float lazily walk down the hill with my camera in one hand.I walked over to the very alluring Emerald lakes which were each about 30 feet in diameter. The air smelled of sulfur thanks to the vents nearby. The blue, green and yellow color of the lakes is caused by minerals which have leached out of the surrounding rocks.
Despite the hues, the water was very clear so that you could easily see to the bottom. One pool had a yellow ring by the shore because the sediment was a yellow color, but then gave way to blue at the middle of the pool.From the lakes, the track continued across the sandy floor of the crater towards the other side of the bowl of rocks that ringed the crater, about a mile distant. The sand of the floor was littered with rocks and other than the well worn trail, the area looked as it had never been disturbed. To my left was the black rock of the
lava flows that had oozed out of the Red Crater and had been frozen in time when the lava cooled. I climbed up the side of the crater and could look back at the volcanic cones and the range of snow covered mountains behind me. The trail continued on past Blue Lack and entered into a valley through which I could see the surrounding country side and lakes below me. The clouds that were crossing the countryside were below the mountains on which I stood, giving an indication of the height of where I was standing.From this point, the track began a descent down the side of the mountain, leaving the volcanic
world behind. There was a series of long switchbacks that gently arced back and forth across the fields of tussocks on the side of the mountain. The day was getting warmer and I had to take off the last of my warm gear and apply sunscreen to my bare arms and legs because there were no trees at all to offer protection from the sun in a land with no ozone layer above it. Eventually I arrived at a hut with bathrooms where people could rest and get filtered water. From there, the track continued to descend and I could see white steam rising from bare patches of rocks and canyons that looked like rough gashes in the hills. These were areas where thermal vents had broken through the ground, killing the vegetations and looking like lesions on the sides of the tussock covered hills. The track entered into an area of hot springs and flowing creeks of water. The water in the creeks stained the rocks over which it flowed bright orange and red. Signs warned that the track was crossing private property that belonged to a thermal spa and urged trampers to resist walking off the trail in search of springs in which to relax.The track continued to descend along the very warm side of the hill. There were some points where the track was below the ground level which prevented the cooling wind from alleviating the heat. Fortunately, there were few of these. Finally, the track descended into the cover of the forest for the last leg of the walk. I walked past roaring streams and waterfalls for the last hour before arriving at a shelter at the end of the track.
The tramp took me about 6 1/4 hours and it had been about 3 3/4 hours since I had arrived at the top of the track. Others took less time. I had about an hour to wait for my bus which was disappointing because had hoped to make the side trips up the volcanoes rather than sitting, but those trips will have to wait till the next time that I can make the tramp. I cant wait to walk it again, especially during the winter when the track is less populated and the snow will be covering everything.
Maps and more information on the Tongariro Crossing
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