Day 1 - Holdsworth Carpark to Powell Hut
The early morning fog loomed as far as we could see, covering the mountain ranges in layers of white and with it, any clue to the climb that lay ahead. Unaware of the vastness surrounding us, we set out for Powell Hut. Loaded with packs looking like bulging water balloons on the brink of bursting; their heaviness apparent with every step. Ella and I making the situation worse, both unable to carry anything, we really were liabilities. Our enthusiasm quickly deterred any doubt we had for our dormant muscles and inferior levels of fitness - it was our first hike in sometime and Paul and Zsu's first in New Zealand. We are back in the wilderness, a place that feeds the soul. 
 
Slogging our way up the mountain, our exhaustion masked by the mystical surrounds. At times we were wandering through a jungle. The trees bendy, their branches looming over the tree-rooted track hidden among the clouds. Mountain Shelter Hut providing the perfect spot to find some energy for what lay ahead. Ladled with stairs, the last section to the hut is steep. Legs wobbling, minds fatiguing, sighs beginning to be heard (mainly at Benny’s constant updates of our slow progress) and stoppages regular. In disbelief the hut could be anywhere near, there it sat. A feeling of relief sweeping over us – we had made it.  

Day 2: Powell Hut - Jumbo Hut via Mt Holdsworth, Angle Knob and Shingle Slip 
Much like the night before, the orange hued rays of sunrise kissed the horizon, filling the sky with mighty colours of red, splashing the few clouds with endless rays of pink. It didn't take long for our weary bodies to feel alive again, soon forgetting the early rise. We gazed out across the salty blue ocean, marvelling over the sight of the South Island in the distance.  
 
Fuelling for the yet-unknown massive day ahead, Rob found himself eating his words in porridge. Exclaiming "it's pretty good thanks Zsu", changing his tune from last night’s moaning of "Noooooooo I hate porridge!". Following the ridgeline from Powell up to the peak of Holdsworth is captivating; the path behind hiding under a canopy of white, and the path ahead providing slight glimpses of the summit. We sat eating scroggin, admiring the views stretching far and wide. The boys spotting a chunk of silver etched into the hillside of the valley facing us. Lucky Benny’s maps weren’t far away and neither Paul’s 4G, fulfilling the curiosity consuming all possible processes. 
 
In a split second, a treasure hunt for the 1955 plane wreckage began. The mission clear; get to the plane wreckage before dark. Striding along the ridgeline towards Jumbo Junction, cloud filled the eastern side up to the ridge while the western side remained clear. My body wearied, my back screaming, longing for a rest and lunch. Whinges fell on deaf ears, as Benny denied a break, continue we must if we want to get to the plane wreckage. There is only so much the comfort cheese and salami pita’s can give; the pain of bush bashing building resilience with each stabbing of a Mountain Daisy spike. Stashing our pack under shrubs a few meters off the main path, we set off on the unbeaten track to find the treasure. Trudging our way atop of Angle Knob, it became apparent the three of the group capable of continuing on down the cliff face, and the three of us needing to begin the trek back.

Beyond Angle Knob is a tale only a few can tell (thankfully living to tell the tale). Turning back heading for our packs, the spikies no longer seemed all that bad. That or in a short time we had nailed the spotting and avoiding strategy. The cloud wearing off and the sun beating down, creating angst in the group. Our palms sweating, mouths dry; would the bare inch of disgusting-smokey Powell Hut water be enough for three humans and a dog? It appeared not; Ella digging holes in the dirt in a desperate bid to find water. Longing to quench our thirst, the sight of our packs brought an overwhelming sense of relief – we had made it once more. 

Day 3 - Jumbo Hut - Holdsworth Carpark 
Hauling on our packs the agony is real with straps digging deeply into our skin; bruising hips and collar bones alike. The unbearable pain, thankfully relinquishing as we furthered our steep and arduous descent to Atiwhakitu Hut. Our well-travelled legs not at all appreciating the toll of the downhill. A solid three hours of climbing down tree roots and rocky faces killed us, testing our already shattered bodies with every step we took. Zsu losing all feeling in a foot and me rolling an ankle. Rob attempting to lift faltering spirits by treating us to a break dancing extraordinaire. His bid definitely successful with laughter echoing in the enchanted forest that surrounded us.
 
Metres from the carpark, arched elegantly over the clear blue water, stood the wired swing bridge separating the lush Taraura Ranges from civilisation. It swung gently in the breeze, creaking with each footstep, petrifying Ella. Losing her footing in a state of fear; her back legs crumbling beneath her, her front legs trembling as they wedged between the wiring of the bridge. Zsu the hero of the day, rescued her in a brief moment. Safe to say her anxiety for swing bridges remains.
 
Many things had not changed since our last adventure – Rob talked smack from start to finish, we ate cheese and salami pitas cooked on the MSR for lunch, Benny continued to waffle on about how great his MSR is, Speed continued as the pace setter, Ella managed to find a stick to play with each time we stopped, our thoughts remained the same; the mountains were home, and until next time, we had made it.

Doc describes the Tongariro Northern Circuit as a “journey through dramatic volcanic landscapes, glacial valleys, native beech forest, alpine meadows and emerald coloured lakes” and I second this description. This walk has it all, and it is all breathtakingly good. We completed the circuit in 3 days and 2 nights, but you can also take 4 days and 3 nights, staying in huts each night. The path winds its way past Mt Tongariro and Mt Ngauruhoe in the heart of the Tongariro National Park – New Zealand’s first National Park.

We had a little set back this morning, leaving some of our food in the bus fridge resulting a 40-minute round trip back to the bus in retrieval! The first day takes you through alpine meadows to the first hut and onto the Tongariro Crossing. Making up for our set back, we reached the hut a bare two hours in. Deciding to push onto the next hut, we soon found ourselves slugging our way up devil’s staircase. The views were spectacular – Mt Taranaki was on full display in the distance behind us, and Ngauruhoe / Mt Doom was right there in front of us. It didn’t take long before we had escaped the alpine tussock and were onto the volcanic rock.

Attempting to summit Ngauruhoe, a lack of time and fitness ended the dream around a third of the way up. At the beginning, it wasn’t too hard going but before we knew it we were on shingle and for every two steps up, we’d be going back a step. Safety officer Benny had set us a turnaround time – and when we reached it, we’d head back down. Reaching that time came before we were ready to turn around, but we knew at our current rate, we’d have at least another hour or two to go, despite it looking like we were oh so close to the peak. After a few grumbles and moans, disappointed in our lack of progress, we headed back to our packs for continue the journey to the next hut.
​
Reaching the highest point on the crossing at dusk, without a single person in sight – would have to be the highlight of the hike. It was magical and dreamy; the emerald lakes were in the foreground and red crater just to our right. Taking some time to absorb what was in front of us, an overwhelming sense of freedom swept over me. Here we where doing what we wanted, when we wanted. Life couldn’t get much better than this. 

If I was to imagine what walking on mars was like, today would be just like it. The landscape was vast; rocks scattered all over – it almost didn’t look real. Pushing the pace to avoid the incoming tornado, the incoming tornado was only ever that. Thankfully! The hut tonight was huge, and pretty full. There was an awesome Doc Warden looking after the place who shared some incredible stories of the National Parks history.

The last day was straight forward back to the car to complete the circuit, via a track on the side to Tama lakes. We will definitely be back in this area, maybe to complete the around the mountain track in winter.