The Tongariro Alpine Crossing is known as one of the world’s best day hikes, celebrated for its breathtaking views of volcanic landscapes, emerald lakes, and vast valleys stretching as far as the eye can see. On a perfect summer day, hikers marvel at the serenity of the glistening peaks and colorful crater lakes. But the day we chose to tackle it? It was anything but perfect.
We arrived in Auckland on a warm December morning, the buzz of summer in the air. The journey from San Diego had been long, but the excitement of adventure quickly revived us. After picking up our rental Kia SUV from Hertz, we made a quick stop at Pak’nSave to stock up on provisions for the hike: trail mix, energy bars, electrolyte drinks and plenty of water. Our hotel for the night, the Hilton Auckland, offered a stunning waterfront view. That evening, we dined at Ahi, indulging in the best of New Zealand’s cuisine—a perfect prelude to our upcoming adventure.
The next day, we hit the road toward Tongariro National Park, with a pit stop at the Waitomo Caves. There, we marveled at the glowing blue-green bioluminescence of the glowworms- a magical contrast to the physical challenge looming ahead. By late afternoon, we reached the Plateau Lodge, where the crisp mountain air hinted at the unpredictability of alpine weather.
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| Waitomo Glowworm Caves |
The morning began with a steady drizzle, the kind that soaks through layers of clothing before you even realize it. The forecast had promised a “light chance of showers,” but by the time we reached the start of the trail, it was clear Mother Nature had other plans.
The rain turned heavier as we began the ascent, visibility shrinking with every step. What was supposed to be a scenic trek through volcanic wonders became a battle against the elements. The trail, normally a straightforward climb, transformed into a slippery, muddy ordeal. Streams of water carved paths down the rocks, and the wind howled as if daring us to go further.
By the time we reached the South Crater, Michelle was visibly struggling. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, her breath came in shallow gasps, and her face was pale with exhaustion. The cold had seeped into our bones, and the thin air made every breath a challenge.
The climb to the Red Crater summit was the most harrowing part of the journey. The wind was so ferocious it felt like it could rip us off the mountain and toss us into the abyss. We clung to the ground, inching our way along the ridge as gusts threatened to throw us off balance.
We pressed on, heads down, bracing against the wind. When we finally reached the summit, the view that so many hikers dream of- expansive vistas and glimmering lakes—was completely hidden in a thick fog. It was a cruel irony, but at that moment, survival mattered more than scenery.
The descent wasn’t any easier. By now, our legs were jelly, and the pouring rain showed no sign of stopping. Every step was a test of balance and willpower. But as we finally approached the end of the trail, a sense of triumph began to replace the exhaustion. We had done it- we had conquered Tongariro in its most unforgiving mood.
Soaked, frozen, and utterly spent, we made our way to Schnapps Bar, a rustic haven that felt like heaven on Earth. As we collapsed into chairs, steam rising from our wet clothes, the waitress placed two frothy beers in front of us.
The first sip of that cold beer was pure bliss, its crisp bitterness washing away the fatigue and misery of the day. We laughed, reliving every ridiculous moment—the wind trying to blow us off the cliff, the rivers of mud, and the complete absence of anything worthy of Instagram.
In hindsight, it wasn’t the perfect holiday hike we’d imagined. It was something better: a story of grit, perseverance, and the kind of adventure that stays with you long after the bruises fade. Tongariro hadn’t given us what we wanted—but it gave us something unforgettable.
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