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Rob Roy Glacier: Exploring a truly enchanted land

<p><em><strong>Travel writer Justine Tyerman is in love with a rugged Scot called Rob Roy…</strong></em></p> <p>Rob Roy Glacier is like a magnet to me. We’ve hiked the track in high summer under a sun-bleached sky, wearing only shorts and T-shirts - grateful for the dappled shade of the beech forest canopy; and in full winter tramping gear as fat snowflakes drift down from a low, slate-grey ceiling… hungry for glimpses of the glacier through wisps of mist and snow flurries. We have even trudged up the track in the rain, when tendril waterfalls join forces to become angry, swollen cataracts… such is the allure of the glacier.</p> <p>But our favourite time is when the valley is dressed in silver crystals after a June hoar frost and our boots crunch through stiff white tussock and over concrete moss. The river is ice-green foam and the spray freezes on our eyelashes and brows and transforms bearded men into Santa Clauses. Where the meagre early winter sunshine penetrates the steep-sided gorge, the air sparkles with dazzling diamond filaments and your breath becomes a visible thing, hanging in little puffy clouds like cartoon speech bubbles.</p> <p> When our girls and their holiday cousins were little, they believed they were in an enchanted land, and it was easy to keep them skipping and dancing up the steep track, eager to discover what magic lay around the next corner. They half expected to see Aslan and the White Witch.</p> <p>Icicle swords droop from overhanging rocks as if guarding fairy grottos below and small waterfalls and ponds are frozen in time. Common-place spider webs and ferns become works of art in silver filigree, demanding that we stop and stare in wonder. But we dare not linger for more than a few minutes for fear of freezing solid like the landscape… or victims of the White Witch.</p> <p>By early afternoon, the sun is brilliant against a sharp blue sky but there is no warmth where it touches and nothing thaws.</p> <p>You hear the rushing waters of the Rob Roy stream far below in a deep ravine long before you see the glacier-fed cascade. I listen intently, trying to put the sound into words. It’s the noisy hiss of static as you tune your radio, but with an underlying conversational gurgle, burble or chortle . . . and then a deafening booming roar as the gorge narrows and the water fights to be first through the gap in the rocks.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7266668/1_500x353.jpg" alt="1 (72)" width="500" height="353" /></p> <p align="center"><em>Justine heading up the track in mid-summer. Image credit: Justine Tyerman</em></p> <p>As we climb higher, the glacier is visible in snatches through the forest canopy and flimsy waterfalls tumble in tiers from the mountain ridges. It becomes a game to trace and time a mass of spray from where it topples over the frozen ledge to the rocks far below. It is impossible to take in the full height of the mountains towering above unless you lie on your back on the ground.</p> <p>The last part of the track takes us over and around truck-sized boulders carelessly discarded by the glacier as it retreated up the mountain side to its present-day precarious home, clinging to a rock face below Rob Roy Peak. We are spellbound again as if it were our first not seventh or eighth trek to the lookout. Under a heavy mantle of snow, the cold blue gleam of the glacier face is blindingly bright… and mesmerisingly beautiful.</p> <p>In the spring or summer thaw, huge slabs of ice on the terminal face lose the fight against gravity and warming temperatures and thunder down the valley in a white cloud. ... an awesome sight, even from a safe vantage point.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7266667/in-text-two_500x375.jpg" alt="In Text Two." width="500" height="375" /></p> <p style="text-align: center;" align="center"><em>A kea or alpine parrot against the stunning backdrop of the Rob Roy Glacier. Image credit: <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong><a rel="noopener" href="http://www.ecowanaka.co.nz/" target="_blank">www.ecowanaka.co.nz</a></strong></span></em></p> <p>With our Leki hiking sticks, sturdy tramping boots, all-weather Goretex jackets and layers of fine merino and possum, high energy snacks, emergency survival gear and 4WD vehicle waiting at the carpark, we modern hikers are as safe and warm and well-prepared as we can be. I reflect back on an expedition made over 100 years ago by English explorer Maud Moreland who ventured up the Matukituki Valley in a horse-drawn dray and climbed up to the glacier in a long skirt and leather boots…long before DoC built a swing bridge over the river and cut a well-formed track around the cliff faces, slips and boulders.</p> <p>In 1908, she wrote:</p> <p><em>We were now at the entrance of a gorge that looked as if the mountains had been cleft by some terrific force: on one side they rose black and precipitous with trees clinging wherever they could find a little soil but generally they were sheer walls of rock. On our side the mountains were clothed to within a few hundred feet of the top with dense bush.</em></p> <p><em>Leaving the horses tied below we began a toilsome ascent through a belt of tutu – a stout herb growing as high as our shoulders. This bit was very steep, followed by a belt of fern, then across screeds of slate, shale and faces of bare rock with only cracks for footholds when we clung by our fingertips.</em></p> <p><em>The heat grew greater every moment and the glare from the rocks scorched us and made us terribly thirsty as we worked our way from gully to gully.</em></p> <p><em>After a tedious climb we at last saw the head of the gorge – a wonderful sight on which not many eyes have gazed. It is closed by a semi circle of cliffs, precipitous and black. And wedged as it were between three mountain peaks lies an enormous glacier. Not a long river of ice, but a mighty mass of ice, breaking off sharp at the top of the stupendous peaks.</em></p> <p>Maud gazed at the glacier one summer day over a century ago, as transfixed by the sight as we are today, searching for words to express the exquisite beauty and power of the vision before her. Our efforts seem trivial next to hers.</p> <p>Knees turn to jelly on the long trek back down to the car, the steep descent made even more treacherous as we walk forwards but look backwards for fear of missing a view we have not seen on the way up. The swing bridge over the Matukituki River seems higher and longer than earlier in the day as I contrive without success to cross it without the added excitement of friends (male) making it even swingier.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7266666/in-text-three_499x665.jpg" alt="In Text Three (2)" width="499" height="665" /></p> <p align="center"><em>Waterfalls cascade from the cliffs with Rob Roy Glacier in the background. Image credit: www.ecowanaka.co.nz</em></p> <p>Back at the carpark, the temperature is minus 3 and as we drive back to Wanaka in our cosy JUCY 4WD, the fast retreating sun stains the snowy mountain tops pink. We stop at a tiny pebbled beach near Glendu Bay and watch the shimmering pathway shrink to a sliver and disappear as the winter sun puts on a final dazzling display of crimson fire before sliding behind Mt Aspiring/Tititea.</p> <p>There is silence as we store the memories in a safe place . . .  until next time.</p> <p><em>The 10km track from the Raspberry Creek carpark to the Rob Roy Glacier lookout takes about 3-4 hours return. The glacier sits below the 2606m Rob Roy Peak named in early times after Scottish hero Rob Roy McGregor. It is said the figure of <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong><a rel="noopener" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Roy_MacGregor" target="_blank">McGregor</a></strong></span> showed on the rock and ice face of the mountain when seen from the Rob Roy Downs opposite the mouth of the Stream. The 50 - 60 minute, 54km drive to the start of the Rob Roy track is a highlight in its own right. The road skirts Lake Wanaka, passing by iconic Glendu Bay with postcard views of Mt Aspiring and the wispy waterfalls of Treble Cone. It follows the gin-clear Matukituki River up the valley, deep into the Mt Aspiring National Park, part of Te Wahipounamu UNESCO World Heritage site, known to the original Māori inhabitants as Te Wāi Pounamu - the greenstone waters.</em></p> <p><em>You can drive to the Raspberry Creek car park and hike to Rob Roy glacier independently or contact <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong><a rel="noopener" href="/" target="_blank">Eco Wanaka Adventures</a></strong></span> for a great guided trek, including lunch and transport from Wanaka.</em></p> <p><em>Transport: JUCY Rentals: <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong><a rel="noopener" href="http://www.jucy.co.nz/" target="_blank">www.jucy.co.nz</a></strong></span></em></p> <p><em>Accommodation: Love Home Swap: <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong><a rel="noopener" href="http://www.lovehomeswap.com/" target="_blank">www.lovehomeswap.com</a></strong></span></em></p> <p><em>Hero image credit: <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong><a rel="noopener" href="http://www.ecowanaka.co.nz/" target="_blank">www.ecowanaka.co.nz</a></strong></span><strong> </strong></em></p>

Domestic Travel

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Walking amongst mountains and glaciers at Mt Cook

<p><em><strong>Justine Tyerman is a New Zealand journalist, travel writer and sub-editor. Married for 36 years, she lives in rural surroundings near Gisborne on the East Coast of New Zealand with her husband Chris.In this piece, she finds one of the only flattish walks in the Aoraki-Mt Cook National Park.</strong></em></p> <p>The ranger at the information centre gave me a peculiar look when I asked about flat walks in the area.</p> <p>"I don’t really do hills," I said to the impossibly-fit young fellow who looked as though he could sprint up Mt Cook before morning tea.</p> <p>Without displaying too much overt disdain at having to tear himself away from a real McCoy mountaineering pair who were seeking advice before setting off to tackle the Caroline Face with their crampons and ice-axes, he indicated that inferior species such as ourselves might like to attempt the hike up the Hooker Valley – apart from the walk from the carpark to the Hermitage, this was one of the few flat walks in Mt Cook National Park, which was, by definition, rather more full of mountains than flat places.</p> <p>Ignoring his scorn, we laced up our tramping boots, took up our day packs with survival gear just in case, grasped our walking sticks and headed for the track. We might have been mere day hikers but we were keen to look the part in this hearty alpine environment… as opposed to the Japanese ladies with their parasols and high heels and the Aussies with their jandals, or thongs as they call them.</p> <p>After we had successfully negotiated our way out of the carpark, we crossed a swing bridge, skirted around a cliff face on a well-formed track with safety rails, ambled up a wide valley with a profusion of wild flowers, along a board walk to protect the delicate eco-system, past a sobering memorial to all those who had gone beyond the flat walks and died trying to climb the peaks in the park… and then quite suddenly, we were in the presence of the almighty Aoraki, the Cloud Piercer – although there were no clouds to pierce that day.</p> <p>No matter how often we view her and from what angle, Mt Cook is a stunner. I had an overwhelming sense of spiritual ownership that Maori talk of when they refer to their maunga, their mountain.</p> <p>There are few places in the world where you can stroll through spectacular alpine terrain right to the foot of the country’s highest peaks in an hour or so without guides, oxygen and a team of sherpas or yaks carrying your life’s necessities for the next few months.</p> <p>Sitting at the foot of our mountain, eating our sandwiches in T-shirts and shorts on a clear summer day, we watched a group of elderly German hikers peel off, fold and carefully place every item of their clothing on a rock before donning swim suits for a dip in the Hooker Glacier lake, complete with icebergs.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/36641/in-text_498x245.jpg" alt="In -text (2)" width="498" height="245" /></p> <p style="text-align: center;"><em>Justine at the glacier lake. Image credit: Justine Tyerman</em></p> <p>Hmmm… swimming with the icebergs. Not likely to catch on in a big way, but a fascinating spectator sport all the same. Pretending the water was not ridiculously cold seemed to be part of the ritual which they had evidently performed many times before around the world.</p> <p>As the only non-German, non-swimmers in the immediate vicinity, we were asked to be official photographers of the event. Sadly, we never thought to record it on our own camera.</p> <p>We couldn’t drag ourselves away from the national park that day and decided to pitch our wee tent just down the road at Glentanner camping ground where we could commune with Aoraki a while longer, and watch her in the splendour of sunset and sunrise.</p> <p>As the sun dropped behind Aoraki’s massive bulk painting the snow-topped peak pink and scarlet and gold, the view from our tent awning was far superior to even the best suite at The Hermitage. It gave us a smug sense of satisfaction… along with the exhilaration of having climbed to the dizzy height of at least 150 metres on our eight-kilometre flattish walk.</p> <p>Next day, I watched Aoraki, as I always do, until she dropped out of sight just beyond Lake Tekapo knowing we would see her again in her winter uniform a few months later.</p> <p><em>Justine Tyerman travelled courtesy of <strong><a rel="noopener" href="http://www.lovehomeswap.com/" target="_blank"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Love Home Swap</span></a></strong> and <strong><a rel="noopener" href="http://www.jucy.co.nz/" target="_blank"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">JUCY Rentals</span></a></strong>.</em></p>

Domestic Travel

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Pianist delivers performance of a lifetime at crumbling glacier

<p>An Italian pianist has delivered the performance of a lifetime at the Wahlenbergbreen glacier in Svalbard, Norway, to highlight the plight of global warming.</p> <p>As you can see in the video above, it’s quite a remarkable performance.</p> <p>Ludovico Einaudi performs <em>Elegy for the Arctic</em> on the baby grand piano, a moving piece he wrote specifically for the occasion. The soothing tones of his composition paired with the incredible visuals of the glacier make for a compelling video.</p> <p>In a news release Einaudi said, “Being here has been a great experience. I could see the purity and fragility of this area with my own eyes and interpret a song I wrote to be played upon the best stage in the world. It is important that we understand the importance of the Arctic, stop the process of destruction and protect it.”</p> <p>The timing of the video’s release is no coincidence as Greenpeace state in a blog post, “This week, delegates at the OSPAR Commission meeting in Tenerife, Spain, have an opportunity to take an important step in protecting the Arctic. The proposal before them would safeguard 10 per cent of the Arctic ocean, an area roughly the size of the UK.”</p> <p>Make sure you watch the video the whole way through. The compelling visuals combine with the soothing music that make this video a must watch.</p> <p>What did you think of the video above? Have you ever visited a glacier? And are you concerned about the impact of global warming?</p> <p>Share your thoughts in the comments.</p> <p><em>Video credit: YouTube / Ludovico Einaudi</em></p> <p><strong>Related links: </strong></p> <p><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="/travel/cruising/2016/05/5-things-you-must-do-to-avoid-seasickness-on-a-cruise/"><em><strong>5 things you MUST do to avoid seasickness on a cruise</strong></em></a></span></p> <p><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="/travel/cruising/2016/05/10-things-you-must-never-do-in-a-cruise-cabin/"><em><strong>10 things you must never do in a cruise cabin</strong></em></a></span></p> <p><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="/travel/cruising/2016/05/po-ships-first-new-zealand-cruise/"><strong><em>P&amp;O’s first cruise around New Zealand</em></strong></a></span></p>

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