We chose a random staircase going upward, and basically followed the logic that anything going upwards was a step in the right direction. This method proved to be foolproof, as we found ourselves on top of the mountain several hours later. Being on top afforded a view of the suburbs outlying Wellington from the otherside of the harbor, along with yet another unique perspective of the city itself.
From this height, Mount Victoria itself (a frequent object of mountain scaling) seemed to be small and insignificant. I considered myself high and mighty, and remarked that I couldn't get much higher than this. I'd say this trip consisted of about five kilometers. It was a decent challenge, not too straining, but enough to make me feel alive and active.
I really enjoy tramping...it allows me an opportunity to get out of the city region and see more nature. I've decided that I really don't like living in a city. It's too claustrophobic and man-made. Although Wellington has more fresh air than probably any other city in the world, it's impossible to filter out the sound of public bus systems, cigarette butts and honking horns. This, I am sure, is the same for any city in the world. I enjoy suburbs and quiet communities. My explorations around the suburbs have therefore provided me with some very peaceful and contended moments (even when the mountain wind literally moves my body with its force).
My tramp on the 21st was much more substantial and epic, constituting 15 kilometers in 5 hours. I woke up around 7 (this is very early for me, by the way..I'm a 9-9:30 guy), and jumped on a bus with some friends. As the sun rose, we walked through a quiet suburb and ascended the nearby mountain chain. This chain consists of the tallest mountains surrounding Wellington City, and is known as the Skyline Track.
Leaving the streets and entering the mountainside
It was incredible...the view from the right was of the ocean and the very distant but startlingly clear snowcapped South Island, and the view from the left was Wellington Harbor, seen even higher than ever before. I was amused to glance upon the mountaintop from a few days previous...it was as small as Mt. Victoria once looked from that very summit. This made me consider the relativity of things and how we judge things according to our position and size. Perspective is important. I also don't think there's ever a point where you should stop and consider yourself "done" having scaled as high as you can go in tramping or in life. Always onward and upward.
We stopped for lunch at what appeared to be "the summit"...a lookout which afforded a beautiful view of the entirety of Wellington. The lookout structure contained a stone table which provided the direction and distance to major nearby landmarks in kilometers (Antarctica, Mt. Cook, Sydney, Invercargill, etc.) This was really impressive and the weary traveler feel as if they had conquered something massive. However, I soon learned that we were not yet 25 percent done. Turns out 15 kilometers is, in fact, a very long distance indeed.
The trek was long, hard, and epicly windy. However, I can say with confidence that I had a great time and a great experience. At certain heights I felt myself being almost pushed over int othe abyss. The wind is so powerful that it rips through your nostrils and forces its way through your nasal passages. It feels like there's some sort of liquid in there, but it's just very potent wind.
Highlights of the trip include: two very cool old men who wandered the mountainside with walking sticks and beards,
a stretch of half a kilometer of track consisting of nothing but pure mud, wind turbine farms speckled over the mountainside,
a random brick chimney in the midst of a wooded area,
impressive piles of cow poop that were larger than a small human (I did not take pictures of these), and the Cow version of Gandalf the Grey. Let me explain.
On several occasions, we came across a minor cow barricade. These cows usually dispersed at the first sight of humans, and nobody was the wiser. About halfway through our long journey through the mountains, we turned a corner and found ourselves directly in the path of two solitary cows. They weren't eating or looking off into the distance. They stood very still and stared right at us. We all stood still for a moment or two. If the fields of New Zealand had tumbleweeds, one would've blown by in the middle of the frame.
Tom slowly got some grass and offered it to the cow. It was a simple peace offering meant to request safe passage. Grass giving, it would seem, carries a different meaning in cow language. The cow jerked his head and began to literally charge us. All seven of us displayed near superhuman reflexes by hurtling ourselves onto the side of the cliff walls, climbing up out of range of the cow. It was clearly a priority that no non-cow entity pass through this point. The two cows continued to stare up at us from an uncomfortably close proximity. After a few minutes, the cow realized that we were not coming down. We proceeded to scream scary sounds at it simultaneously until we scared it enough to run off into the distance. This has been a true story. New Zealand cows hold their passageways sacred.
The 15 km track proved to be a quite a feat, and the wind was so strong at points that we had to literally lean against it to prevent tipping over the other side. The scenery changed from rolling green fields, blue ocean, murky forests and wind turbine farms. One of these turbines powers 1000 homes. I had no idea they were that economical. Overall, it was a fantastic experience. It was also a huge challenge, and the nap that I took afterward is in contention to be in the top 5 of all time.
Here's a link to the album of photos I took. Give them a gander, they're quite nice if I do say so myself.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2024540&id=1487820100&l=08efde5b8e
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