Skiing on a Volcano

Hello, Tom here.  Like me, you might have some ambivalence regarding the sport of skiing - very fun with beautiful scenery, but also destructive to a big piece of a mountain.  The fact that there is a ski resort in the middle of New Zealand's oldest national park evokes exactly that conflict, making me think "Awesome!" and "Horrible!" at the same time.  We ended up a few weeks ago with a recent snowfall on the mountain peaks and a clear weather report and a Sunday all lined up nicely, so we decided to put on our winter woolies (as they say here) and head up to Whakapapa (pronounced "Fakapapa") to check out the ski fields (as they confusingly say here).

Ruapehu is one of the three great mountains we can see from our house that lie at the other end of Lake Taupo.  "Rua" means "hole" or "chasm" and "pehu" means "exploding."  This is because Ruapehu is a semi-active volcano.  No, it is not Mount Doom.  It is one mountain over from Mount Doom.  Mount Doom is a newer volcano and is just a big cone covered in scree.  (It is also called Ngauruhoe, meaning "throwing hot stones.")  Ruapehu is older and has many peaks and sharp rocky outcroppings.  Neither sounded good for skiing, but what did I know.  Ruapehu hosts the largest ski fields on New Zealand's north island.

We drove the 90 minutes or so up to Whakapapa, which is the name of the ski resort.  "Whakapapa" means to build up in layers and is the Maori word for the oral recitation of genealogy, stretching back many generations to the original waka, or canoes, of the earliest ancestors.  This fact has, as far as I can tell, nothing to do with skiing or the resort.

Here is the view from the car park (as they call it here).  As you can see, the mountain looks pretty foreboding.  It also looks like a mixture of snow and rock.  This turns out to be a completely accurate assessment.

Here we are getting suited up.  Aidan is wearing his sports glasses which become sunglasses automatically in bright light.  He looks super cool.

 The beginner area is called Happy Valley.  I, of course, thought of Aunt Helina and Uncle Stevie, though there are no lions in New Zealand, Nittany or non-Nittany.  Here is a photo of it.  As you can see, the beginners are expected to ski down to the ski lift at the bottom between areas of exposed volcanic rock.

Here is Aidan on skis, looking awesome.  He did great, actually, and skied most of the day, even on some intermediate trails.  He and I had the only lift tickets that gave access beyond Happy Valley.

Here is Evelyn on the slope, enjoying a bit of sunshine:

 Our weather was mixed - some sun, some clouds, but the clouds were of the ominous type.  Thankfully, we got no precipitation, as predicted.  Several times a year, there are rescues off these mountains of trampers who get caught by swiftly changing weather conditions and every once in a while, people are killed.  Once, several hundred skiers were trapped on the mountain overnight.

Here is a view up the mountain:

Here is a view up the mountain from the top of the chairlift that Aidan and I used to get to the intermediate trails:

Here is Aidan, looking awesome.

It was funny skiing around on a mountain that looked like it belonged in a National Geographic special.

 Here is Aidan, oblivious to the doom in the skies behind him.  Funny thing is, the most frightening clouds were all hanging over Mount Doom.  I made another mental note to get rid of that ring I've been keeping secret and safe all these years.

In the other direction, the sky looked beautiful:

Aidan and I took a break and ate some chips (ATSH).

After an afternoon snack, Evelyn said she'd take both boys and I headed up to the topmost peaks by myself.  It was late, so some of the lifts were already closed, but I booked it up the mountain and was the last person on the highest peak lift before they shut it down.  Here are some views on the way up:

OK, so this next one is a messed up picture for a few reasons. First of all, the highest peak that the lifts approach is in this photo, just to the left, but completely obscured by clouds.  That's because we are now up in the clouds.  My camera does not have a zoom - that's exactly where I was standing.  It is also a crazy picture because of what you see on the left.  That pole is the turnaround point for the lift, but look what is on the metal wire running above: those are T-bars.  This is the first time I've used a T-bar to get to an expert-only peak.  If you aren't a skier, you need to know: T-bars in the US are generally for children.  They hardly exist anymore.  I haven't ridden one in thirty years.  You grab this long pole with a cross-bar at the bottom as it floats by you, put the cross-bar under your butt, and then let the T-bar pull you up the mountain while you ski.  Generally, you then fall off, because it is hard to ski up a hill.  Your options then are to let go, which is the smart thing to do, even though you are not at the top yet, or hang on, in which case you are dragged up the mountain on your stomach with your skis splayed out looking like a total idiot.  Thankfully, I managed to get to the top without incident.

Here is the view down into the valley from the top of the mountain.  Next to me while I am taking this photo is a big group of ski patrol folks.  They are waiting to do their last sweep down the mountain, because the resort is almost closed.  I said to one dude, "I have one run.  Which way should I go?  Left or right?  I've never been here."  He said, "One run?  I'd just shoot down the gut and ride that curve."  I don't understand what Kiwis are talking about a good percentage of the time, so I just nodded and said, "Good idea."  Turns out, there is a trail called The Gut that has a big curve in it.  I skied down it.  That was the fastest I've ever skied in my life.

Here is the curve, though the path you can see takes you up and over to the unmarked side of the mountain.  I actually went down through the gap to the right.

Here are more crazy shots from the mountain:

At the end of the day, everybody drinks hot chocolate.

On our way home, we drove past a striking double rainbow that our camera managed to capture in some small part:

 Even Jasper got in on the photo-taking action, using his DS to get that perfect shot.

Should there be a ski resort in the middle of a national park?  Not so sure.  Was it an amazing place to ski?  Um, yeah.  It was wicked cool.

One last note - in New Hampshire, there are signs on the ski lift poles that you can read on your way up the mountain.  They say things like, "Bindings correct?  Have 'em checked!"  On this mountain, the signs said, "Do you know what to do when the eruption sirens sound?"  My answer was, "Probably die."  That made everything somehow a bit more exciting.