As April comes to a close and classes resume at the University of Canterbury, it is a time of rest and recovery for some. The Easter break has been long and eventful, and though it hasn't felt like three and a half weeks, many have managed to pack in three and a half months of travels and adventures. With only a few days left before Monday morning, reflection has been a central theme amongst students; how to best begin processing the sights that have been witnessed in a few short weeks?
For some, it is through writing.
But before I embark on retracing my steps through the whole of April, I must relate the final story of March. Taking place in mid-March, a group of 10 students rented a van and traveled back to Kaikoura with the intention of ascending Mt. Fyffe, a peak looking out on the small seaside town. The story begins on Friday, March 12:
It is beyond any doubt that the trip started poorly. Rising early on Friday morning, one glance through the window to the outside world made this one point painfully clear. However, this would change nothing; with the van having already been arranged and ten people excitedly awaiting departure, one could only hope for a change in weather as the group drove the 180 kilometers from Christchurch to Kaikoura.
If there is one thing that is constantly hammered into your head while you're in New Zealand, it is that the weather can always be counted on to be wildly unpredictable. For the most part this is offered as a general warning, but for this weekend's trip, it turned out to be its salvation.
By the time the group of ten arrived in Kaikoura in the early evening of Friday night, the skies had cleared. Finding a campsite just off of the road, tents were quickly pitched so that all could walk down to the beach and gaze upwards for a long while. Made possible by the lack of light in the area, the stars burned strongly across the sky, with satellites and shooting stars making regular appearances.
The next morning everyone rose early and prepared to make their way to the base of Mt. Fyffe. First, though, a devastating blow was dealt. For the first (and only) time in any of these New Zealand adventures, the group was forced to pay for their campsite. Having fallen into the habit of choosing secluded locations and departing stealthily in the morning, staying at a hostel or paid campsite had never been necessary.
This was a huge blow to our morale, but I suppose that all great streaks must come to an end eventually.
Getting to the mountain, the first thing that was noticed was the trail itself. More of an ATV track than anything, the path leading up the mountain was nothing short of a gravel road. Hardly a winding route through a forest, the terrain left something to be desired. Fortunately, though, the scenery made up for its shortcomings.
Not exactly a leisurely stroll, the road up was fairly steep. The route was made more challenging due to extenuating circumstances, however; it would be dishonest to not mention a critical component of this morning's hike. Having arrived at the campsite at a reasonable hour the night before, several members of the group decided it would be a good idea to indulge in a little bit of New Zealand's fine bagged wine. Certainly, this seemed to be a great idea.
Until the next day.
Stumbling and staggering up the mountain, distant views of the tiny town of Kaikoura and its surrounding mountains provided a bit of relief from the crippling hangover, disabling some more than others, of course.
By lunch, though, the prospect of soon reaching the summit overcame the effects of the previous night's alcohol. Following the break for food, the peak was only a few short hours away.
About an hour or so below the summit the group discovered Mt. Fyffe Hut, their resting place for the evening. Stopping to drop off gear and to refill water bottles, the ten hikers resumed their trek to the top.
Arriving by mid-afternoon and with the knowledge that the most strenuous part of the the journey now lay behind them, the group lingered at the peak and enjoyed the fruits of their labor.
Obviously, the trip would not have been complete without at least one group photograph. Great thought was put into the orchestrating of such photos, and this is but one example.
After staying at the summit for a bit, the ten turned back and headed down towards the hut and dinner, content to enjoy the nice weather while still over 1,000 meters above sea level.
As night began to creep in, the sky was set aflame as the sun slowly lowered towards the horizon. While the sun was lovely in itself, it was the effect of the clouds that made the scene worth watching.
Such an impression was made by the beauty of this sunset that a plan was formed; those willing to sacrifice a few hours of sleep would wake just after 5am and hike the hour up to the summit in the dark so that they could watch the sun rise over the ocean.
This proved to be an exceptional decision. Again, the clouds made this one of the most sensational images witnessed in New Zealand thus far.
After standing and marveling until the sun was well into the sky, it was time to head back to the hut and make breakfast, a long day of tramping still in store for all of them.
Refusing to take the same route down the mountain as they had come up, the group managed to find an alternative path that took them off the ATV path and down a steep spine marked by posts along the way. Much less of a trail than they had been used to, it was a nice change of pace to have to deal with grass, rocks and mud for the first time on the trip; if you're going to climb a mountain, hiking an ATV track is a total cop-out.
Dropping rapidly through the forest, the ten hikers eventually spilled out onto a river, which, of course, meant they were now forced to walk along a riverbed. If they were upset about the ATV track, most were nearly in tears over the riverbed.
The reason for this is simple: walking along riverbeds is awful. Yes, the scenery is always picturesque, as demonstrated by the above photo, but the terrain itself is difficult. Uneven, rocky, and often loose ground comprises most of these tracks, and if one's legs aren't tired and aching before you arrive on the riverbed, they will surely be throbbing afterwards. Not to mention the river crossings.
Often times hikers are forced to cross rivers in order to continue along the trail. While getting wet can be avoided by deftly leaping across boulders in the water (see: Fraser, Stephen; below), it is not uncommon to get a bit wet with repeated crossing. Or thoroughly soaked, for that matter.
The end of the Mt. Fyffe tramp was no different.
After traveling slowly for several long and arduous hours, the group finally emerged back at their van, tired and wet and ready for the four hour drive back to Christchurch. Though the trip had been somewhat short and the hiking relatively easy, both the sunset and sunrise viewed from the top of Mt. Fyffe will not soon be forgotten.
And when everyone arrived back at Canterbury, there was a very fitting scene unfolding outside of their windows.
After a weekend made successful in many ways by the sun, it only made sense that it should close in the same manner.
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