I was still in Perú when I saw my cousin Rommel’s photos of the Tongariro Alpine Crossing and couldn’t believe how much the terrain had transformed into a winter wonderland. I’ve done a lot more hiking since doing the crossing for the first time three years ago, so I was curious to see how different this experience would be. Would it still be this hobby hiker’s Goliath?

This adventure was with a massive group of 32 with the Pinoy Adventurers NZ group - for some it was already their second time, having experienced the crossing in the summer and excited to walk it in the snow. For many it was their first, and for a few it was a personal milestone in their fitness journey. Some even travelled from the South Island - even as far south as Christchurch. How awesome was that?

Our morning started just before 7am, meeting up with our guides for the day, Adventure Outdoors Tongariro at YHA National Park. We met our four guides for the group, catering for different fitness and comfort levels. They said that it was the biggest group they’ve had all season, most bookings averaging about five people.

We started the crossing from the Mangatepopo car park. There wasn’t that much snow on the ground, but I could feel a definite chill when I took off my gloves. Instead of putting us into groups straight away, group leader Jah set the pace at the front and by the first stop, there was a natural grouping which stayed for most of the tramp. I seem to remember the tussock being more golden in autumn, but then again we did walk in the shade of the mountains for most of this section.

Snow came underfoot about 15 minutes from the Devil’s Staircase. Being early morning, this section dropped a couple of degrees from the valley as it was still very much in the shade and the morning fog was yet to clear. In the winter season, many of the toilets are removed, and this is the last toilet for at least 10km. Jah told us to get rid of layers before we headed up the Devil’s Staircase because it was only going to get hotter.

I had a nightmare of a time climbing the ‘staircase’ three years ago - my legs had cramped to the point I had to stop every few metres, not to mention my lungs were just about ready to explode. Even though I didn’t exactly bolt up the ‘staircase’, I was pleasantly surprised at how much easier it felt this time round. I was towards the tail end of our group, but I didn’t really mind it. It was so good to be back in the mountains, and I wanted to soak it up as much as I could.

Slow and steady, that’s what I kept telling myself as I climbed the ‘staircase’. The regular group breaks really worked for me, only stopping long enough to get my breathing back to a natural rhythm, and before my muscles started to relax and get cold. I was happy with the decision to keep my puffer jacket in my backpack - I barely needed it throughout the hike. I’m quite prone to cramps, so I’ve started putting electrolytes in my water and make a more conscious effort to keep sipping water throughout my hikes.

Although we brought crampons with us, we didn’t end up using them in the end. The snow wasn’t deep and soft enough underfoot, so our guide Jah used his snow shovel and cut tracks for us. This meant that we could walk more naturally and as long as we tried to follow in each other’s steps, it didn’t turn the snow into mush.

We had our first snack break at the South Crater - a glorious flat section which signals the end of the Devil’s Staircase. This is a great place to catch your breath, maybe get some photos of you smiling because the flat terrain doesn’t last long. In the warmer months the South Crater is more like a dessert with scatterings of tussock - both heat traps for different reasons.

The first two groups eventually combined at the South Crater - this allowed our guide leader Jah to go ahead and cut tracks in the snow as we made our way to the Red Crater. We caught up with him halfway up the snow-covered scree. Unfortunately we didn’t get to see the Red Crater as it had clouded over by the time we got there. Looking up towards the summit, there was even less visibility, so we made the decision to take another route to the Blue and Green Lakes.

Although I was disappointed not to get to the summit, I was happy to skip the downhill scree section that injured my knee last time. It would have been interesting to see how different it would be in the snow. We came across a few other groups as we made our way down to the Blue and Green Lakes - they were taking off their crampons and a few had confused looks when they saw that we weren’t wearing any.

Jah was pretty excited to tell us that we were going for a slide down the hill. It brought back memories of how nervous I was the first time I tried sandboarding in Peru. I ended up loving every second of it, but it didn’t mean I volunteered to be first up either. After giving us sliding tips (feet up and keep your weight forward) and showing us how to hold our ice axes, Jah set off, leaving everyone on the hill wide-eyed. “Ok, who’s next?” Shouted Doug, our other guide. Heads turned - we were a bit slow to step up at first, but by the end everyone was laughing and said they had a blast. My waterproof pants sure came in handy.

Mini and I had found a comfortable spot up the hill while we waited for the others to slide the hill. When our guides announced that it was time for lunch, we were too tired to move to join the others so we had lunch together. She told me about her medically dependent cat, and now that her partner is living in Germany, it meant she didn’t get to go hiking as often. We talked about our experiences of doing the crossing - she said it was colder in the summer when she did it than in the snow. How crazy is that? We also laughed that she will have to return for a third time to see the Red Crater (it was too cloudy this time round too).

My legs started to feel heavy and sluggish as we set off after lunch. I put it down to being cold, but when I got cramps after the bushline in Ketetahi, I figured it was because I was already mildly dehydrated. I made a mental note to increase the electrolytes in my water for next time.

There was a few degrees difference below the snowline, and even though I was sweating, I didn’t realise just how much I was sweating. It wasn’t until my right quad cramped up that I had to stop. As I was one of the last in the group, one of the other guides waited with me as I caught my breath and took a few layers off. We got chatting to keep my mind off the pain in my quad and it turned out that he had spent time climbing mountains in Bolivia and had also been to Huaraz in Perú. He did most of his guiding up Mt. Ruapehu, or teaching mountaineering and rock climbing courses.

As my cramp started to ease, I could feel my body moving more freely. Jah and I got into some food banter, as I mentioned that I was getting hungry and looking forward to having steak for dinner that night. I don’t know what it was about all that food talk, but it sure made me walk faster and we eventually caught up for a few more of the group. I found a bit more in the tank and even found myself jogging on the downhill sections in the bush. Well played Jah, well played.

It was a relief to get to the Ketetahi car park while there was still light. Three years ago it was pitch black and we were the last car to leave. I had fun cheering on the last few behind me as they arrived and giving them high fives. 

Is the Tongariro Crossing still my Goliath? In short, no. It wasn’t easy, but it was a bit easier. I made it to the end without an injury and I was still smiling in the end. That’s a definite win in my books.

fivefootronna is Ronna Grace Funtelar - a thirtyish adventurer, graphic designer and writer. A woman with a curious mind who lives for hiking mountains, outdoor adventures and eating pizza. She has a unique brand of optimism that is a combination of her great enthusiasm for life and cups of coffee during the day.