Aratiatia Dam and My Attempt at Hiking
So about two weeks ago, a little thing called the World Series happened, and our beloved Giants totally wiped the floor with the Rangers. Awesome incarnated. So I was pretty happy about that, and that’s one heck of an understatement. But that wasn’t the only thing that happened that day - there was actually a whole lot that happened after that magical moment. Here’s what happened.
The funny thing about the World Series is that I managed to get half of the hostel addicted to it even though about 80% of them are British or German and the other 20% are from someplace random like Chile or Austria. The Americans and Japanese are really the only people in the world who care about baseball at all, so this was a huge feat on my part. Henry was especially susceptible to my prodding, but he’s a pretty big sports fan - mainly cricket, racing, and soccer football - on his own time. He stayed up until 4am a couple nights to catch the Forman01 races every fortnight. He was very disappointed in the standings last week. But anyway, on the first day of the Series, I happened to have the day off, so Henry and I crunched together around my computer to watch as much of it as we could. It’s funny because you can watch international poker championships in Paraguay or British snooker over the Internet no problem, but when it comes to the World Series, only the most important baseball game of the year, it’s nowhere to be found. All the links we managed to patch through were either really poor quality or buffered every three seconds with satellite delays. We finally got one that was decent enough, but it was completely in Spanish. So my Giants experience mainly consisted of things like, “El pelo de Lincecum” and chants of “La barba!” Huh. It was alright, though, because Henry has an impressive broadcaster voice and was able to provide his own commentary in an especially thick British accent.
I only caught snatches of games after that because all the games were in the middle of the day, when I had to work. I just got bits and pieces of the other ones. The most important one, though, I managed to catch just at the right time. I had work until about 2pm that day because it was so quiet at the restaurant, so I rushed home as fast as I could to catch the last chunk of Game 5. The Giants were ahead in the Series 3-1, so they were only one win away from taking it. The moment that I got home and turned on the computer, I saw that Renteria had just hit his game-changing homerun and that the Giants had taken the lead in the 7th inning. Looked pretty promising for us. And for those of you who watched after that, that’s pretty much exactly how it ended. They just held on a couple more innings and took the whole thing at the end. Crazy awesome. At the same time, though, we were all waiting for Darren to drive home and take us out to the Aratiatia Dam before they opened the floodgates at 4pm. So I was watching Brian Wilson throw the last few pitches while glancing frantically outside for Darren’s car. It was pretty down to the wire because it takes at least 20 minutes to drive out there and it was right about 3:30 when the last batter was up. I really didn’t want to choose between the roadtrip and staying the last precious seconds to see the end, so I was really happy that I didn’t have to make that choice. No sooner had the final strikeout gone down, Darren drove up in a hurry and yells, “Schnell, schnell! Everyone in the car!” As the whole dugout emptied onto the field and started jumping up and down, I was grabbing my bag and racing out the door. We had just barely piled in before Darren floored it and took off.
Then we realized that no one knew where we were going. Paul was no help whatsoever as our token navigator, and everyone else just sort of assumed that someone else had actually looked up directions. As I mentioned before, the dam only opens up a couple of times each day - 10am, 12pm, 2pm, and 4pm - and it’s pretty far out there, a good hour or two past Huka Falls by foot. We’d all been talking about how much we wanted to go, but the timing had never been right before. You either have to have a car or take the shuttle, and it’s always tended to rain on my days off. Anyways, we were finally on the right track with all of us in the car at the same time. Darren, Paul, Veronica (new German girl who works with me at DB), Angie, and me. I’d forgotten how beautiful the area outside of Taupo can be. I’d only gotten a glimpse of it out the bus window on my way down from Auckland, and I’ve mostly been stuck inside the town since then, so it was good to get out in the country again. We passed a lot of rolling green hills with baby lambs and cows prancing around. It’s really only about five minutes outside of Taupo by car, too.
Thank God Darren has a great sense of direction, because we somehow managed to get on the right road, despite it not being clearly labeled or anything on our map. It was pretty much a dirt path just past the turnoff for Rotorua, and the road was just barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other. At that point, it was just about 3:45, so we just had time to park the car and walk briskly towards the lookout point. It’s actually pretty similar to the spillway we have in Oroville - same concept, at least, but the water flows down a rocky canyon instead of just down a concrete slide. I wasn’t expecting a whole lot because I’ve grown up around that sort of thing, but I wanted to go along and check it out anyway.
Where we parked the car and the trail to the lookout point
We ended up going down this windy little trail towards the viewing location, and it was very similar to the one around Huka Falls. Darren and Paul tried to confuse us and convince everyone that we were going the wrong way, but we’ve known them long enough not to take them seriously. See photo below.
Angie is rightfully skeptical, Veronica is actually buying it.
About ten minutes after that, we reached the lookout and saw a few people already waiting at the canyon. Turns out that we made just a few minutes before they let the water out - perfect timing. We spent those first couple of minutes taking way too many pictures of rocks and trees, and then we got a little bit bored.
Ok, really bored.
Shots of the canyon before the flood, now with extra Veronica
They finally opened up the gates just a little bit after four, and it was so subtle that we didn’t really notice it at first. It’s pretty much what it sounds like - water gradually filling up a canyon over the course of about ten minutes, but it was pretty enough to make the trip worthwhile. There was this little lagoon that the canyon emptied into with crystal clear water and another bridge way out in the distance, so it was actually kind of cool. It was a nice change of pace from some of the more extreme stuff I’ve been up to lately. So we just sat there and watched for a while, taking a few more pictures and admiring the view. Then we turned around and made our way back to Darren’s car at our own pace.
The floodgates opening up and the ensuing rush
I was still on a pretty good high after my last day of work for two days and a Giants victory, so I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the guys were up for a bit more fun that day, too. Instead of going straight back into town and calling it good after that, we decided to take the scenic route back. First there was a glassblowing place on the side of the road, but it turns out that it had just closed for the day. I wasn’t really that disappointed about that one. They also have the scenic helicopter rides and all of the adventure parks out there, too, but those are more of a day trip, not just a quick stop-in.
There’s also this really cool little place on the side of the road called the Honey Hive that I had heard of but didn’t really know anything about. I thought it was more of a little kids’ hang out place with an educational bent on it, but it ended up being pretty fun. I mean, I like learning about stuff and watching educational videos for fun anyway, so maybe I’m not the best person to ask, but it was basically an entire center devoted to bees and honey making. The first part of the area is all about how bees live and little random fun facts about them posted across the walls. There’s a big hive in the outside garden area with glass windows so you can see inside, and I was able to find the Queen Bee hanging out right in the middle. Darren and everyone were kind of making fun of me because I was so enthralled with this video about rival queens fighting it out to the death that I missed half the tour going on at the same time.
The shop area and the tube connecting the bees to the hive outside
The other part of the building is devoted to souvenirs and honey-based products like honey chocolate and ice cream. Mmm. We were able to discover something truly awesome while we were there: mead. Or rather, honey wine. It’s amazing. I mean, I love anything sweet, so it’s already guaranteed to be a big hit with me, but I was unprepared for just how good it was. The woman who was there was very cool and let us try three free samples of different brands, and it was hard to decide which one was better. I think the butterscotch flavor was pretty good, but then there was the traditional honey liquor that was…indescribably good. Hard to pick one. I almost bought one because they were relatively cheap for $20-30 a bottle, but I already had a nice South African late harvest wine back in the fridge that I was still working on, and I didn’t really have room for both. Next time, I suppose. I think a few of the others bought things, though, and I think I’ll have to remember it for the next time I’m out that way.
After browsing around and looking at even cooler but seriously expensive candies, we headed back outside and took some touristy pictures of the sign. Mine’s slightly out of focus because someone else used my camera to take it, but you get the general idea.
And that was pretty much the day. All we did after that was hang around in the courtyard and have a few celebratory drinks. Henry’s been trying to school me in chess lately, but I’m awful at it - still too defensive. I’ll beat him one day. And Darren’s just gotten back from a two-day road trip down to Napier and back, so everyone’s been busy.
One last thing before I end it for the day, though. Dixie Brown’s has been cutting my hours a bit the last couple of weeks, so I’ve had a bit more free time than I’ve been used to. Last week, I decided to put on my hiking pack and set off in the general direction of this great hill that surrounds the town just to the west. I’ve always admired it from the deck of the hostel and watched the sun set over it, so I decided to actually go investigate up close and personal. I’ll call it Acacia Bay Part II because that’s pretty much where it is.
I got out there a lot faster than the first time around because I actually had an idea of where I was going, but once I got to the furthest point Daniella and I got to before, I immediately got lost again. I think you can easily make it out there in an hour on foot if you know where you’re going, but I got pretty turned around once I got out there. The thing is, it’s easy to figure out if you’re going the right way from a distance because you can see the mountain/hill way out there, but once you’re level with it on the horizon and a bunch of houses are in the way, it’s a lot of guesswork. So I ended up walking up and down this one street a good three times throughout the day because I was constantly retracing my footsteps. It also happened to be the hottest day that Taupo has seen for a long time, so the sun was beating down as well. Luckily, I was prepared - the advantage of having two sets of overly-paranoid parental figures. It was a bit heavy, but I managed to cram a water bottle, extra sunscreen, hat, raincoat, change of shirt, granola bar, and two extra pairs of glasses into my little day pack with me. I was all set.
Heading out towards Acacia Bay. People hanging out by the Huka Falls trail.
It was through sheer dumb luck that I managed to find the path out there, and I’m not even sure if it was an official path because…well, you’ll see. Seriously, New Zealand, would it kill you to label things a bit every once in a while? This has happened to me so often where I’ll be heading out somewhere and I will see ONE sign pointing in the general area of where I want to go about three miles from it, but then absolutely nothing after that to let me know that I’m still on the right track. This gets a bit confusing when the road tends to fork into different directions every half mile or so. But anyway, I’m getting distracted.
All of the really rich people in Taupo end up living out by Acacia Bay, which means two types of houses: the really cool, insanely glamorous ones, and the stereotypically boring, identical ones that we get out in California a lot. I was going through one of the latter neighborhoods when a little side park area caught my eye. It looked more like someone’s private property leading into a drainage pipe, but I followed my instincts and checked it out anyway. Then it just kept going down this crevice between house for a while, and I started to think I’d found something. It ended up being a gorgeous little walk with these bright, saffron yellow plants all over the trail.
Boring suburbia or really cool houses. They have these awesome wood fences all around here that I love.
The path I stumbled onto by accident
It eventually tapered out into a small valley behind another house, and I was forced to climb a small hill to continue forward. What I saw both encouraged and discouraged me - one, the hill was actually in sight and not too far out of my way, and two, the trail ahead of me, my only solid lead, was about to hit a dead end into someone’s driveway. I was a bit torn because I was so close to finally reaching my destination, but continuing on meant weaving along some more and possibly wasting hours of time getting lost. I thought I was completely out of options, but then I noticed that this dark wood to my left might be traversable. I had been walking along the edge of it for a good ten minutes, but it had been blocked off by a fence up until that point. Just where the trail ended, there was a slight gap in the branches and the hint of a deer path going through the foliage. I took this to mean that other people had gone that way before and that it must be the logical way to get to the hillside. We all make mistakes.
Following the pretty flowers and looking into the Forest of Doom.
I took one last look behind me and made the decision to go in, but I was definitely reluctant. Even from the outside, it looked a bit creepy in there with a lot of dark overgrowth leeching up the sunlight, but it was my only ticket through. I figured that I would just go in, skirt along the edges, and then pop back out into the sunlight as soon as I was around the couple of houses in the way. I switched my sunglasses for my regular glasses and headed inside.
The first thing that I noticed was the complete lack of sound - no birds, wind, or anything. It was completely dead in there, and the sound of my footsteps crunching over the pine needles seemed incredibly loud in comparison. I was starting to think it wasn’t such a great idea on my part, especially when I started noticing all of the holes in the ground. I’m talking big, six-foot long, two-foot deep cavities in the earth all over the area. Kind of spooky. I’m pretty sure that they weren’t, you know, mass graves or anything, but they definitely didn’t help my overactive imagination at the time. Then there were lots of concrete slabs broken in pieces and covered with moss. I have no idea what those were either. I decided to just keep on the straight path and within sight of the exit to avoid dwelling on anything else.
Creeeeepy......
It was only once I’d reached the far side of the woods that I started to get a little seriously freaked out. Just as I was coming within sight of the exit, I realized that the whole forest was boxed in by blackberry bushes on the western side and barbed wire fence on the northern end. There was no way out except straight through the middle of it, and I was beginning to see just how huge it really was. What had first seemed like a little grove from the trail was actually a huge, sprawling forest that went on forever in all directions. I can still see it from the balcony back at the hostel, now that I know to look for it, and I still can’t believe that I made it through the whole thing.
So I had the option of either turning back and going home, after getting at least halfway through the woods anyway, or pressing on and sucking it up for the time it would take to go straight across. I’m not going to lie, I picked Plan C - screw both of those and try to force my way through the barricade and into freedom. Yeah, didn’t work. I got far enough to walk just outside the trees and look at some cows grazing nearby, but I soon found my escape completely blocked, leaving me no choice but to go back inside. At that point, I was a good chunk of the way through, and going back the way I came actually looked like more work than just finishing what I had started. So I really had no choice but to press on, albeit with a lot of glancing over my shoulder. It occurred to me that even though people knew where I was in general, no one would ever think to look for me in there since I didn’t even know exactly where I was, but I didn’t panic over it. I just walked briskly forward and did not think about creepy serial killers and ghosts hanging out in the trees.
My brief glance at freedom and cows giving me weird looks
It was with enormous relief that I finally saw light coming through from the other side and honest-to-God houses again. I had reached civilization intact, and I wasted no time in booking it out of there. It felt like I had run a marathon even though it probably only took me about twenty to thirty minutes to navigate through there. There was guy sitting on a trampoline nearby, and he gave me a kind of funny look as I was leaving the woods, but I honestly don’t care what he was thinking about that. I was so happy to be out of there.
Nearing the exit and blue sky at last
The funny thing is that I was actually really close to the real path before I veered off into the side gardens. I came out of the woods right into this neighborhood called Brentwood Heights, which is only five minutes away from the main road I started from. Oh well, I know that now. No more spooky woods and crazy garden mazes next time. I started walking up the street, really not sure of where I was going anymore, and was pleasantly surprised to see an honest-to-God paved road leading up to the hill at the end of the block. It was the first hint of an official path. A few retirees watering their lawns and fixing their cars waved as I walked past with my big travel pack.
Within sight of my destination
And this is the part where it all comes together in the end. The little path started winding straight up into the countryside, right towards the pastures that I had been aiming for all along, and hugged the edges of suburbia at the same time. There were these great golden plants everywhere to add a little bit of color to the scenery - I’m told that they’re actually weeds brought in by Australians. Pretty weeds, though. I followed the trail up to the crown of this smaller hill and was able to look down at the progress I had made. I was a little surprised at just how far away the town was and how far out there I was, and it was kind of daunting to think of having to walk all the way back. Thank God it wasn’t actually as far as it looked.
The view from the top
The hill I was actually aiming for
Mount Doom off in the distance and Mount Tauhara boxing in the town
The only bad news is that I didn’t actually make it up the bloody impossible-to-find hill, and I’m really okay with that, considering the ordeal it took to get there. I made it right to the base and was able to take some nice pictures of the cows and sheep grazing all around, but then I reached a point that was completely non-traversable. Those beautiful yellow plants that had been so cool all the way up were blocking my way forward. I think they were actually a natural barrier to keep people from going up there because there was absolutely no way to get around them aside from ripping them completely out of the ground. I sort of suspected that the hill was private property for ranchers and whatnot, but I had hoped that there was a public trail for sightseeing. Oh well. There are some nice, happy cows up there who get to enjoy the peace and quiet without tourists coming through all the time.
I sat there for a while to catch my breath and take a few more pictures of the lake below me, and then I started to make the long trek back home. Once I knew the right way, it was all smooth sailing back to the main road. It probably took just a bit more than an hour to reach the hostel again, and I was absolutely knackered by the time I got there. I won’t be doing that again any time soon, but I think the whole adventure made the trip worthwhile. Here are some nice sunset pictures taken from the hostel courtyard to finish off the evening.
That about covers it for now. Tune in next time for Part One of a hopefully-two-part series. Later!