‘One does not simply walk into Mordor… It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust…’ – Boromir, Lord of the Rings
Sadly, Lois and I had to take heed of Boromir’s words. A nasty chest infection, picked up in Laos, meant that we had to cancel our planned four day tramp around Ngaurohoe (Mt Doom) with Abi, Isaac, and Isaac’s parents.
It had all started ten days previously while we were staying with Trim and Konnie and their children in Vientiane. First Alex, then Lois, Finn and Sienna, then Konnie and I, and finally Trim, all started toppling, like dominoes, with various combinations of cough, fever, rigors, neck stiffness, and general aches and pains. We had planned to spend a nice weekend together at a lake resort north of the capital, but when it came to it, none of us felt like doing anything other than lying prostrate on our beds or the sofa. We struggled through a week before Lois and I boarded a plane for one of the most uncomfortable journeys we have ever experienced: 24 hours feeling cramped, uncomfortable and drained of all energy.
It’s funny how feeling unwell can so dominate life: when with each cough, it seems as though every bone in your body, every muscle, every patch of skin is screaming at you, ‘Get it out!’ When to even read, let alone be sociable, write emails, or make decisions, becomes more than you can face. When you can’t think of anyone or anything else, but just how awful you are feeling.
So, I don’t think we were particularly good company when we got to Auckland – either for each other, or for David and Paddy with whom we were staying, or the grandchildren who had been so longing to see us!
Still, while such illnesses may drag on, they do not last indefinitely. Gradually, after a couple of weeks feeling at rock bottom, the fevers subsided, the neck stiffness eased, and the coughs became less all-pervasive. And we began again to appreciate the many blessings of life – to recognise, with gratitude, how incredibly healthy we have both been; and to gain a greater sense of empathy with those for whom chronic pain or illness is a daily part of life.
We had ducked out of the four day Northern Circuit, but after a further 24 hours recuperating in Auckland, we decided to head south to the National Park, checking into a cheap, but convenient motel in Tokanuu on the shores of Lake Taupo.
By Thursday, I was feeling well enough to do a one day tramp. We drove up to the Magetepopo car park (a bit higher than the summit of Snowdon which we’d climbed earlier in the year), and – along with countless other trampers – Lois and I set out on the Tongariro Alpine Crossing. Lois joined me for the first 5km up to the Soda Springs then headed back to the car and a more restful day while I started the steep ascent to the Tongariro craters. The North Island Alpine scenery is really quite staggering: steep volcanic slopes, broad, ash-covered craters, rugged ridges and outcrops of rock.
After the first steep ascent to the South Crater, the vegetation grew increasingly sparse, but even right up at the top, it was incredible how small yellow and white alpine flowers could bloom into life among the barren, lifeless rock. As each successive ridge appeared above me I thought that surely would be the last, only to have my illusions shattered as I recognised the figures of fellow trampers ascending the next ridge above. Eventually, however, I got to the summit of the Red Crater at 1,886m. This was followed by a treacherous scramble down the scoria slopes to the stunning Emerald Lakes. My knees were feeling it by then, but at the same time, I was revelling in the overwhelming sense of being truly alive. The views were amazing. For most of the day, Ngaurahoe was shrouded in cloud, but at one point, I did catch a passing glimpse of its cratered summit.
Bypassing most of the hordes, I made my way to the furthest of the Emerald Lakes where I sat and enjoyed my sandwiches, taking in the rich, vibrant colours of the water and the rocks. A final short climb brought me up to the larger Blue Lake, by now almost completely in the clouds, but still beautiful and mysterious. And then a long, but pleasingly gentle 8km tramp down the lower slopes of Tongariro to the Ketetahi car park, where Lois was waiting to take me back to our motel and a relaxing soak in their thermal pool.
The following day, after a short walk towards the Silica Rapids, we set out from Whakapapa anti-clockwise to meet the others as they finished their four day tramp: tired and aching, but with a huge sense of achievement. One doesn’t simply walk into Mordor after all.
