On Top of the World

Sometimes I think I actually have it out for myself. I had the brilliant idea of climbing a mountain today, an 8hr trek. You might recall that I have spent the last 2 days celebrating my birthday, not to mention my body is just about worn out. About 2 minutes into my climb I started questioning my sanity. I was going to cheat and take the gondola up the first part of the climb because I had a late start due to my muscle cramp, but they only sell the tickets one way from the top...the guy said legally they cant sell a ticket that leaves a person stranded on a mountain. I told him I was quite capable of climbing down, it was the up part I wanted a little help with. He didnt laugh, he said there were more ways to get down the mountain so you could get lost but on the way up theres just one way so its easier. Thats when I laughed, and it gets funnier later too. Simple calculations would presume there are as many ways up as there are down. Anyway I started climbing because I am cheaper than I want to cheat. I tried to take a short cut up the mountain, as I had on the way down last time...but I didnt follow the same trails and wound up unsure of where to go next. I climbed up some sections that looked like at one point they were trails but were no longer in use for good reasons. At one point I came smack up against a rock wall and was quite close to scaling it, when reason kicked in and I had to remind myself that I actually could die...plus I was carrying my cameras in my bag! I had to back trak a bit down the steep slope but eventually came out back at the luge area. I didnt take a bottle of water because I didnt want to carry it in my hand because I like to have them both free when hiking (note to self, pack a day pack for trips like this), so I stopped in the washroom there and drank some out of the tap hoping I could conserve this like a camel until I reached the summit. I made my way onto the Ben Lomond track and started heading out. It really was quite remarkable scenery when you get around to the other side of the large mountain right at the edge of Queenstown, because it hides from view some more of the range. I should I guess at this point mention that not only did I enter this hike waterless, I also did it wearing my flip flops. Sometimes my reasoning is different than others. Anyway I continued along and was doing well, it was a nice steady hike and I stopped for photos and a german girl that I kept passing back and forth also took some shots for me (we saw each other a few times throughout the day, she was a sweetheart). It wasnt too much longer before dire thirst set in, I have no camel abilities whatsoever. After a couple hours I was beginning to struggle. James had really recommended this hike though so I plodded on. He also promised I would see mountain goats, so when I got to the top of the first trekking part I was doing I sat down on the ledge and scanned the hillside until I found one. I figured this would be another penguin moment. It was around this point that I went to take another stunning photo, but when I turned my camera on I got that all too familiar black screen and beeping noise telling me to shut my camera off. So many instant things rushed through my mind, not now, not now, can I find a sony shop, will they be as fast, etc etc. But I gave it a minute and it sorted itself out, luckily too because the hike truely was amazing and I cant wait to share it. The feelings of nausea were beginning to pass so as I sat there I ate an energy bar and just stared at the mountains and Queenstown down below. The same dwarfing effect that took place in Milford was happening here, because as a plane took off from the airport and came into view behind a mountain on the other side of the lake, I got a scale to remind myself just how massive these ranges really are. As I sat there contimplating the more important things in life, enjoying my energy in chocolate form...I heard blaaaa blaaah. Oh score, my eyes quickly scanned around me until I spotted it, a goat. Then I found a few of his mates and watched them eat for awhile. It was about 3 o'clock at this point and I was quite ready to end my trek there and go back down to town, thinking I saw what I came to see, mountains and goats. But my curiousity was getting the better of me as I kept gazing over at the next hillside...I wonder whats just beyond that? I picked up my weary body and assured my legs we would just see what was on the other side, get a nice photo then go back down. But of course, once you get over that hill, you rationalize, well I may as well see whats over the next since I came this far. Before too long I found myself at the bottom of the summit track. I leaned up against the sign saying summit 1 hour and moaned. I felt near death already and the thought of going drastically upwards for an hour made my insides turn. I couldnt do it, I just couldnt...I was on the verge of passing out and was literally having dizzy spells. Next thing I knew I was walking on toward the summit track...I even remember thinking to myself why am I still moving this way? By this point I was stopping every ten minutes or so and catching my breath before continuing on so the trekking was more laboured and slow. I came up to a point and as my head began to clear the hill in front of me to see what was off in the distance my jaw literally dropped. It was so beautiful! What lay before me was unlike anything I had seen before...miles and miles of mountain peaks. I thanked myself for pushing onward and pushed a little farther. I was just making my way up to the steepest portion of the track when I ran into the german girl again. She was really happy that I had decided to go all the way to the top, she said that she too had wanted to give up, but a french girl who was coming down told her it was worth it if she just made it up there. She warned that it was quite steep and said go slow and take breaks instead of turning back...she said what was up there was definately worth the abuse. I thanked her and began the last leg of my mountain journey. I was now beginning to take breaks after every 10 steps...I was pushing on my knees as I trudged upwards. Eventually my breaks became collapsing moments as I threw myself into the tusset grasses along side the trail. My body despised me and was letting me know it...I was beyond dry (I know this because at one point I actually sat down to cry but all I did was heave slightly because nothing came out...dry sobbing we will call it.) my feet were aching my thighs were burning, my stomach was turning and my throat felt like it was in a grip. It was a constant battle upwards between my mind and my eyes, and the rest of my body. I just so badly wanted to be at the top so I could see everything, and I so badly wanted to curl up into a ball and roll all the way back down. It was the toughest thing I have ever done, it was mind over matter for over an hour (stupid sign). I was becoming a little clumbsy in my weariness and scared myself a few times as I came close to the edge, or slipped slightly. I met a few people coming down and each time I asked them all for a drink of their water...inside my head...haha...I couldnt bring myself to actually do it. The sun was beating down on my and I was covered in dust, I was beginning to actually take a break after 5 steps...it was brutal. But I did it. I made it to the top, and it really was worth it. The really great things never come easy eh. It was almost as though as soon as I got up there I felt so much better...I had imagined myself collapsing in a heap and napping for a bit before trying to make my way down...but instead I was bouncing around taking photos and just loving everything! By 6 I was on my way back down...a tricky accomplishment as well on the narrow rocky path that zig zagged down the cliff face. When I reached the bottom of the steep section I took a breather on the park bench to soak up the view one last time. I lay back and put my feet up on the back so that the blood could drain out of them and closed my eyes and just appreciated the sun. A few moments later approaching footsteps brought me back upright as a young guy came over the peak. He looked quite weary as well and was wipiing away the sweat. We chatted for awhile about how beautiful it was and our travels...while I tried to place the accent...I really liked it so I figured it was Scottish. I was correct. He then tried to place mine, he eyed me up and then said...say about...ah yes you are canadian. He had lived in Whistler for 8 months so had a bit of a low down on the accents. He said that I didnt sound so much NS'ian as the guy he knew from there, he thought we sounded more irish...a very harsh accent...I hypothesised that perhaps he was a caper. We travelled together back down the mountain talking about this and that when he paused and said oh I never got your name, his name you ask...yes...it was Jamie. Jamie from Scotland. swoon. His last name unfortunately is english but we will just ignore that part. Everything else, aside from the hair colour, measured up. I just kept thinking oh this is priceless...we then caught up to his girlfriend farther down the trail because she had given up and was waiting for him to return (he had run up to get a picture of the view beyond the hills for her. Her name...no not claire...but Mary so still...She was however english. I definitely got a picture of them when we came out of the trail. We parted ways at the sky line (they both were super nice people and I enjoyed chatting with them...they are off next week to nepal to climb mount everest!) and I rushed into the bathroom to drink some water before I died. While in the building I wondered over to the gondolas to watch them go down...and remembering Jo say they didnt even check tickets once you purchased them I watched to see for myself. It was true...you just walked on and rode down and got off. I couldnt pass this up...so I joined the line and travelled down the final stage of the mountain in style with a german chap who was disappointed his sky dive was cancelled today. As I sit here typing I can see that my feet are black as anything and I have the imprint of my sandle straps etched in dirt across the top...so I may head off and wash up before everyone gets back. I did definately enjoy my last full day on the south island, being on top of the mountain was beyond description, and the effort it took to force myself onward was something I had to be proud of myself for...it was a very New Zealand day, the ones I enjoy the most. I'm going to hate to say goodbye to it all. This is a website about the hike up Ben Lomond: http://www.onedayhikes.com/Hikes.asp?HikesID=53