Temple Basin: The Ascent

Saturday, 5am. My alarm clock rings. I shut it off and reset it for 5:20. I’m not a morning person.

5:20. That’s way too fast; the clock must be playing games. Unfortunately, it’s not and I can’t go back to sleep. I have to get up or else I’ll miss my ride. Rolling myself out of bed, I took a shower, ate a quick breakfast, and got all my stuff ready for my weekend trip. With minutes to spare, I checked my email before heading over to the pick up area. I assumed I would not see a computer until after I got back.

6:45. We’re all here, half asleep, and ready to go. Wow, a lot of students have their own gear. I wish I had brought my skiing equipment but that would have cost me hundreds of dollars in fees because I already had enough baggage. All I have is my winter clothing and lucky for me, I can rent the rest. We have enough cars for everyone & everything. One less thing to worry about. Let’s go, the slopes are waiting.

Rather than wallow in my room all weekend long watching the rain, I decided to go on a 2 day skiing trip to Temple Basin, organized by the Ski & Snoboard club. TB is a 2 hour drive northwest from Christchurch and is located near Arthur’s Pass. I haven’t skied in a while so it was a good idea to revisit the slopes and get reacquainted with a winter hobby of mine.

I travelled in a van with 4 other guys; all of them snowboarders. I was the only skier. I can’t fall asleep while sitting so I had to stay awake while we travelled inland. While the two snowboarders sitting next to me slept, I gazed out the window in awe. Mountains. Flora. Water. Everywhere you looked; undamaged by humans. And endless sheep. New Zealand Survival Tip: if you ever get lost in this majestic landscape, find the sheep and you will find the people. I snapped as many pictures as I could with my digital camera. Seventy photos later, I’m writing this BLOG post.

The driving conditions were perfect; sunny & mostly clear skies. No rain for once. I watched & felt as the two lane highway snaked its way through Middle Earth’s mountains: forward, left, right, up, down, all of the above. Memories of my dad driving the family in the Canadian Yukon and to Flagstaff, Arizona, appear in my mind. I’m also glad my stomach didn’t spoil the ride. I was so focused on the landscape that the drive felt less than 2 hours. What also surprised me was that the bridges were only one lane wide. The reason is because there’s not enough traffic to build a two lane bridge.

We’re almost there. Oh no, I spoke too soon. Damp, grey clouds. Rain. Not now! Hey, we’ve stopped.

“We’re here,” the driver announced in a native New Zealand accent. (I forgot his name but not his face).

“But there’s nothing here,” I said, looking around through the light rain.

“That’s because it’s all up there,” the driver replied, pointing up a mountain. “We’ve stopped at the Goods Lift to unload our stuff so we don’t have to carry it up.”

Goods Lift? I thought. I followed the club members to a shack that had a cable running from it up the mountain, disappearing in the low grey clouds. A small open metal cage appears from the mist and slowly descends to the shack. It stops at ground level and people start loading their skis & snowboards. Oh, Goods Lift!

When the snowboarders were done loading their stuff, our driver drove us to the gravel parking lot. Put on your winter clothing because it’s time to hike up the mountain. Actually, hiking in New Zealand is called tramping. Yeah . . . that’s how I felt when I first heard of it. I just smiled, nodded, and politely reminded New Zealanders not to call it that when visiting North America. It means something entirely different. There’s a tramping club on campus. I wonder what the members are called?

Temple Basin is remote. There’s no gondola for people to take to the main lodge. Like the highway, a 2.5 kilometre rock trail snakes its way up the mountain. Powerful 4 wheel drive vehicles can drive up a portion of this trail and we passed a few Land Rovers along the way. It was still drizzling when we started our tramp and with the amount of clothing I was wearing, my ascent would take a lot more energy. The experienced New Zealanders assure me that the tramp takes only 45 minutes. For me it took a little longer because I was carrying my backpack.

I haven’t tramped for a while and slowly the 4 snowboarders get ahead of me. Their conversational voices grow more distant with every step I take. Then, I was alone. One foot past the other, I keep reminding myself, and slowly but surely, I'll reach the summit. Several people pass me. The rocks are now covered by snow. The rain is gone; I’m above the clouds. Another person passes me wearing sneakers. He slips but regains his balance. I keep going. The water in my clothes is holding me down. I feel like a brick with legs. I stop again to catch my breath and look at the view below me. I can’t see the highway; the low clouds have hidden it. But still a great view. A refreshing cold breeze reenergizes me. I continue.

How much more? My legs are tired. I can barely feel them. Every step I take has to be a well coordinated procedure! I have to stop again. Maybe I should have eaten a bigger breakfast. I look down and see how high I am. Then I look up and try to find the main lodge. How much longer?

Too tough for you, the mountain beckons. Then quit.

Not yet.

Finally! The main lodge is in my sight but still metres away. The boarders I came with must be on the slopes by now! Who cares, the mountains aren’t going anywhere. They can wait for me. Up another little hill. The winter wind is back and trying to push me over the edge. Not happening. Across the wooden bridge. Up another hill. A lot of snow. Passed the Goods Lift. Now the steps. About time! I’ve arrived at the lodge that’s owned by the club. And all it took was an hour, I think. But I’m all wet from the rain, and tired from the tramp. I need to rest.

“Are you okay?” someone asks.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I assure them. “I’m just tired from walking. I need a breather.”

To be continued . . .