Winter in the Mackenzie- Part 1

 Real-time

There's something magical about winter in the high country. If you're hardy enough to see past the regular heavy frosts, cold temperatures and odd foggy day, you'll be rewarded with an ever changing view of a stunning landscape. From spectacular sunrises & sunsets to snow covered mountains, big blue skies, crisp sunny days, hoar frosts and magnificent cloud formations, every day is different. 

Sunset- Ben Ohau Range, Twizel

Not to mention the crystal clear night sky. The Mackenzie Basin is one of the best places in the world to view the amazing night sky and winter happens to be the best time to view the world above us. The galactic core of the Milky Way galaxy is visible from the months of February to October in the Southern hemisphere and during the mid-winter months of June and July, the core is at its brightest. If you're lucky you might also see Aurora Australis, aka the Southern Lights, which can sometimes be seen dancing on the southern horizon during the long clear nights of winter.

Fog surrounds Night Sky Cottages

Fog is a regular visitor during the early days of winter when the land is cooled overnight after the warmer days of late autumn & early winter. Fog bows appear as the sun rises and the fog rolls in. I've seen several on our usual travels but this winter I've been lucky enough to see three or four over our back fence. Because fog water droplets are very small, fogbows have very weak colours or no colour at all, this is when a fogbow appears white, they're sometimes called white rainbows.

Fogbows don't last long, they're gone as soon as the fog obliterates the sun & blue sky. 

When the fog clears this is the view we have from our back fence; Ben Ohau (on the right) and the Ohau Range at the rear. Lake Ohau is tucked in between the two.

I did say you need to be prepared for cold temperatures didn't I? We had several days of -11c frosts.

After finding the laundry frozen one morning I purposely hung more out the next night so I could take photos of the frost on the pegs.

And then after some of my Facebook followers told me of childhood memories of clothing snapping in half in heavy frosts, I tried it with a tea towel. It rolled up instead.

The frosts made interesting patterns on spent flower heads, leaves and other items around the garden, including plenty of cobwebs. That made it easy to see where they were to clean them off.

After chasing hoar frosts around the South Island for four of the last five winters, I had my own mini ones right in my back yard! Click the photo to enlarge.

As I've already mentioned, the sunrises and sunsets have been spectacular and so varied. 

Sunset Over Ben Ohau Range

I was setting my alarm to catch the sunrises for a few weeks during the middle of winter, every morning was so different and the colour was often gone within minutes as cloud rolled in or the sun rose higher. The infamous Canterbury Nor'wester provided some fabulous cloud formations (centre left) at sunset.

I held my breath waiting for the first snow to fall around the cottages. And when it arrived (June 6th) I was like a kid in a candy shop. It blew in from the south gently splattering on the window, building up  to a noisy crescendo and filling the window pane with icy crystals. 

It fell for a couple of hours and then by mid afternoon it had melted back into the landscape.

The next snow fall was on the first day of spring (September 1st), this time a little heavier.

Night Sky Cottages

But it too was gone by late afternoon. It's been a very mild winter in the high country this year, the surrounding mountains were looking a little barren until another recent spring dumping.

Snow settles around Kahu Cottage

At 720 meters above sea level, Lake Tekapo usually sees more snow than it's sister village Twizel (at 480m) and just 50kms down the road. When snow fell at lake level in mid June I took a quick drive over to Lake Tekapo to shoot some snow photos. 

The snow was fast disappearing but I managed to get some lovely photos-

'That' Church, sans people- Church of the Good Shepherd, Lake Tekapo

NZMCA Park, Lake Tekapo

And clockwise L to R- Lake Tekapo pedestrian bridge, my favourite Patterson Ponds & Two Thumb Range, the iconic Irishman Station letterbox, top end of Tekapo Canal, where very large fish are being caught and where next year this section of the canal will be closed for fishing during winter, families enjoying their hire motorhomes and fishing the Tekapo Canal and the last one, more from the Tekapo Canal.

I was delighted to come across this huge snow-kiwi while exploring, a clear path led me right to its location. The body had been rolled along through the snow, around a corner and down a slope, picking up everything in it's path including all the rabbit poo!

I love it how I'm now able to claim Lake Tekapo, Lake Pukaki and Aoraki/Mt Cook as being in my backyard.

Sunset over Lake Pukaki 
Aoraki Mt Cook is hidden under the dark cloud at the far end of the lake

I took the following two photos at either end of the same day; the moon sets behind Ben Ohau Range as the sun rises. The pink hue on the snow is known as alpenglow. Alpenglow is an atmospheric optical phenomenon which makes mountains appear to glow in a light pink or red hue. It occurs just after the sun sets or just before it rises.

Pukaki Canal & Ben Ohau Range

And at the other end of the day, the sun sets over Lake Ruataniwha (I'd been to Timaru and back in the hours between).

Lake Ruataniwha

It's not just snow & frosts during winter in the Mackenzie Basin, many days are sunny and settled. These big blue sky days are perfect for reflections on the many lakes and waterways around the high country. These ones from Lake Ruataniwha's 'Lagoon'- 

And this one from Kellands Pond-

Several times during the very cold frosts, the willow trees across the road that line the banks of the Fraser Stream were coated in frost icicles for most of the day. This localized hoar frost looked very pretty but with no blue sky it was hard to photograph.   

Although on one morning I had a hunch that the fog was about to clear so I headed off down the road towards the Pukaki Canal which is at the end of our road. As I neared Ben Ohau Station the fog started to swirl and lift and I was able to capture some of my favourite photos from this winter.  

Ben Ohau Station, Twizel

The station's merino sheep weren't too impressed with being interrupted from their silage breakfast though.

Ben Ohau Station's historic shed

The long grass and fences along both sides of the road were coated in ice; there's more build up when the moisture laden fog blows in over the open paddocks.

Loch Cameron is also at the end of our road, the trees on the little island were coated in frost.

I stopped to take some photos overlooking Fraser Stream from up on the canal road. I live by the motto of  'always taking the photo when I see the shot'. I never think to myself, I'll get that on my way back or after I've finished my lunch etc. Which is just as well.

I followed the canal road along towards Lake Ruataniwha and found a completely different world just 5 minutes down the road. Any fog that had been around had retreated and there were no signs of a hoar frost either. I turned around and headed back home passing Fraser Stream again, the hoar frost now completely gone from there too. 

Ben Ohau & the Ohau River

To be continued- My dream comes true; A Five Day Hoar Frost

Hunting for a Hoar Frost- Mackenzie Country; Part 2

Real-time

Continued on from Part 1  where we were parked up at the Ohau B canal NZMCA Park near Twizel.

- But sadly there's still no hoar frost or even remnants of one so it's time to head home and see what tomorrow brings...

Tomorrow brings a fabulous sunrise.

Beautiful colours over Ohau B Canal

I'm up well before the sparrows, it is bitterly cold outside and a heavy frost is fast settling on the rig but when I look out and see the cloud formations overhead I know it's going to be a spectacular sunrise. Now I have to hurry to get to the top of the small hill behind our camp site before it's too late.

I throw on layer after layer of warm clothes, finger-less gloves and woolly hat, grab my gumboots, and camera and rush as fast as I can up through the long grass on the side of the hill, dodging deep rabbit holes and large rocks as best as I can in the dark gloom. There are a couple of tracks but I haven't time to find them as I can see shafts of brilliant orange streaking through the sky above already.

The wispy fog looks like cobwebs draped over the power pylons.

I knew before I reached the top of the hill I was in for a tough photo shoot, I'd left my tripod and head torch behind! I can't see the camera settings easily and it's so dark I'll not be able to shoot any long exposure shots (which are all of them until the sun comes up) without my tripod. 

1) The sun rises over the fog in the Mackenzie Basin
2) Pink tinted lenticular clouds above Lake Ruataniwha Spillway
3) Looking south over the salmon farm

I don't have the energy to race back down to the van and then get back up the hill in time. Luckily there's a concrete column on the top of the hill (it's used to measure movement in dam walls), and with the help of a flattish rock I manage to balance my camera on the top of them to shoot. I find out later that only one in about 4 shots has no blur. I bet the camera was slowly slipping on the icy surface.

1) Aoraki/Mt Cook  peeps over the top to greet the morning sun
2) With Ben Ohau Range as the backdrop, fog settles over Lake Ruataniwha.
3) As the sun climbs higher the colours turn from reds & orange to a brilliant yellow

After a suitable time and enough photos for me to think I have at least got a few of the early sunrise, I decide I will have to high-tail it back down the bank and back to the van to get my tripod. And put on another pair of socks, I'm already wearing two pair but gumboots and an icy frost do not go well together. This time I walk along the canal and head back up the unofficial 4WD track to the top, it's a steeper climb and now very slippery because the frost has settled.  And the temperature has dropped even further due the wind chill factor as a stiff breeze blows in.

Looking south over the salmon farm- just two vans in for the night

The colours are now soft oranges & mellow yellows. Now that I have my tripod set up, I attempt to do some light trails using the red tail lights of a few dozen vehicles that pass by below me. They're on their way to catch those elusive salmon further down the canal.  And then would you believe it, my battery runs flat and I've left my spare in the van! So off I head back to the van once again and then I traipse all the way back up to the top for the third time, just in case there are a few more photos left out there. Because I know if I don't I'll wish I did (if that makes sense!).

Needless to say, I now make sure I have my tripod ready to go along with my backpack packed with headlamp, spare battery, extra socks & gloves, snack & water,  no matter what the weather forecast is for the next morning. 

When I finally stagger back to the rig the frost has well and truly settled over the ute & 5th-wheeler and long grass on the hillside is dripping with icicles. The makings of a mini hoar frost. 

Later in the morning I decide to head down to Lake Benmore again, just in case.  It's cold enough and if there's fog down there, the ice crystals could be building up. You never know...

I stop above Ohau B power station and climb up the fence line...

...so I can check out the Ohau River that runs parallel with the canal all the way down to the lake. There's fog off in the distance...

...and it's hanging about over the canal and the fishermen & women still trying their luck with the escaped salmon. 

While I watched, the fog rolled back in and that got me a little excited.

If there was fog up here, there was sure to be fog down at the lake. I carried on down the canal and was excited to see more fog over Ohau C Power Station which probably meant it reached all the way down to the lake too. 

There are two ways around each power station, one road crosses over the top of the dam and the other runs behind the station and in front of the penstocks. The lower road at Ohau C does a large sweeping curve down to the lower level and it's this one I take, it'll get me to the lake quicker.

Except that half way down and I pull to a quick halt when I see through the departing fog some matagouri and briar bushes covered in ice crystals in a nearby paddock.

A hoar frost has formed for sure but there are only a few bushes. I take a few shots as quick as I can because already the sun is reaching through and water is dripping off the bushes.

I don't know why but I decide to head over to the  river on the other side of the power station instead of down to the lake and as I got near I could see the fog retreating out of sight over the lake.

I pulled over to check on the river and couldn't believe my eyes- the fog has gone and left behind a ribbon of  trees laden in ice crystals!

I have finally found myself a hoar frost!

It might not have been the blue sky, heavily laden white crystal shot I've been looking for but it would do me just fine......for now.

The term "hoar frost" comes from the Old English meaning of frost resembling an old man's beard. Frosts and hoar frosts form when the air and objects are at or below freezing and while normal frost forms when the air is relatively dry, the air must be quite moist for hoar frost to form (helped along by fog). The ice needles of hoar frost can become several inches long in extreme cases and form on the sides of and beneath objects, as well as on top.

The bright red rosehips on the briar bushes look like jaffa sweets from a distance...

...up close, they are soft and disintegrating as they defrost- perfect bird food during the harsh winters (although not so good that the birds then spread the seeds which is why the high country is covered in briar bushes).

These photos aren't the best because now that the fog has departed, I'm looking straight into a hazy sun.

A pond near the river is frozen solid and I decide to drive down to it and see if I can get some close up shots of the trees

By the time I twist & bump my way along the river track, smashing through large puddles of frozen water and avoiding others full of mud, I can see that the frost is fast melting...

...and when I finally reach the pond it has just about gone. That's it. For a brief 30 minutes I was in awe of Mother nature and in seventh heaven. I can go home now. Bucket list photo, done & dusted (although there's still a blue sky shot on there).

I find my way back up to the canal road, stopping briefly to take a photo of the canal bank covered in frost and now melting in the sun.

Back past the fisher people still trying their luck and now basking in the weak sun...

...and back to camp where the sun is only just reaching over the hill and onto the frosted grasses that I clambered up this morning.

Later in the afternoon I decide to take another drive around to Lake Ruataniwha 'just in case'. But when I stop at a gap in the trees I can see that there's nothing happening down there today and I turn around and head back home.