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Posted on Monday January 31st at 9:21 a.m.
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Having never skied on scree, none of us knew what to expect so with an air of excitement and nervous anticipation we walked the track to the base of Mt. Ngauruhoe to give it a go. Named after Ngatoroirangis' slave Auruhoe who was cast into its crater Ngauruhoe is a relatively young volcano formed 2500 years ago. Half way along the track I realized that I had forgotten my helmet. I began to think of how Auruhoe had felt as he made his way to the top of the volcano.
Back in the late 1980's a Swiss skiing legend called Kristof climbed to the top of Mt. Ngauruhoe and skied down on the scree. There was an article written and a great couple of photos in the NZ ski magazine ever since reading the article I knew that one day I too would ski the scree slopes on Mt. Ngauruhoe. Like any great mission it required careful planning and the right people so I put a message on face book that read; going to ski the scree on Mt. Ngauruhoe. Need a photographer and someone to video, you don't have to be nuts but it may help. Long time adventurer Murray Wilson answered the call to video and legend snowboarder Greg Prouse offered to take some photos, I just needed some skis and clear weather. A few days later I had a set of my brother's twin tips the weather was great and the team were good to go.
The day was hot and tourists were clamouring all through the valleys and mountains of the Tongariro National Park. I was inundated with queries and comments; "What! You go skiing here?" "Where is zee snow?" "Hey Hans, sis guy is crazy, no?" I kept my head down occasionally looking up trying to pick a line amongst the coloured and sharp looking lava. Getting closer to Ngauruhoe I could see only big gnarly looking rocks, nothing that seemed skiable but we were committed there was no turning back.
Having made it to the top of Mt. Ngauruhoe (2291m) Murray put his hat over his eyes and had a nap. He had been there plenty of times so Greg and I scampered around to explore the terrain and a possible line down. The rocks were sharp it had become cold, and I started to feel vulnerable as we looked into its massive crater. I looked at the time, five pm "bugger it, lets do this" I said.
The first turn went against everything natural. For years I had done anything to avoid rocks and preserve the skis bases. Jumping around the pole the skis stuck sending me tumbling down the sharp rocks. After a couple more crashes I started to spot the looser scree and point the skis more downhill. It was a bit like skiing in a thick semi-frozen snowy chute with people pelting you with stones and dust. Just as the fun started my legs began to ache volcanic dust coated my clothes and got into my ears, nose and mouth. I lost all empathy for the skis and went for it. Rocks were flying all around me and I became part of an inexorable slide down the volcano. I was laughing until struck on the shin by a lump of jagged black scoria. I made it to the bottom before the pain registered into my weary brain.
Murray lamented "back in the good old days there would have been more sand amongst the scree but weather and foot traffic have eroded it away" none of us cared too much. We made it safely down, we were happy and tired thoughts turned to the last few kilometres walk to the car and a well earned beer. Looking back up there was a realization that we took the wrong line. Kristoff would have come down further to the right where no one had disturbed the softer finer scree. Was it worth it? Yes sir and ill do again soon.