Ice Spectacle- Hooker Valley

Catch-up; It's been a busy couple of weeks, we've been chasing the snow and exploring the Canterbury high country. I have hundreds of stunning photos and lots to tell you about in due course. In the meantime this blog may seem a little out of place now, much of the MacKenzie Country is smothered in thick winter snow and especially the access road to Aoraki/Mt Cook and the National Park. 

On a clear, crisp and sunny morning I left David fishing for that elusive salmon at the canal and headed to Aoraki/Mt Cook National Park to re-walk the Hooker Valley track. We've walked it before, back in early December, 2015 but it was overcast then (great for photos though). I wanted to walk the 10km return track again and see it in a different light. I stopped at Pete's Lookout to grab one of the iconic shots of Aoraki; looking up Lake Pukaki to New Zealand's tallest mountain at the top of the lake.

I parked beside the DOC White Horse Hill campground and near the trailhead, it was bitterly cold out of the sun but I could see it heading down Hooker Valley ahead of me as I set off at a brisk walk, being careful not to step on any icy puddles that would send me for a skate.

The first of the three swingbridges that cross the Hooker River which flows down from the Hooker Glacier Lake, then into and out of, the Mueller Glacier Lake. 

This is no gentle flowing stream, those boulders in the river below the bridge are the size of small cars. You can see a couple of people crossing the bridge in the photo above.

Mt Sefton towers high over the lake and in the stillness I can hear regular whooshing and booming sounds echoing around the valley. When I zoom in on the mountain I can see great clouds of snow and ice breaking off an ice shelf and tumbling down the face, from high up on a ridge near the peak. 

Each time I get to a swingbridge, I wait for others to finish their selfies before I can get a clean shot. 

Just before I reach the sun, Aoraki/Mt Cook comes into view at the head of the valley.

Which is just as well because as soon as I step into the sun (which instantly has a lovely warming effect), it's directly ahead of me and right in my face and the camera's! There's no getting away from the lens flare here, so I shoot as best I can by closing down the aperture (f/22) and cutting off most of the sun so I get a sunburst and although it's not a good one at least I can see Mt Cook underneath!

I now have to take my photos looking back down the track so the pesky sun doesn't gatecrash every shot. 

This is the last of the three bridges over the Hooker River(above), it's just below the moraine walls of the Hooker Glacier Lake and not far from the lake outlet.

A short track leads off the main path to a small tarn tucked in amongst the alpine vegetation. It's a surprise to see down the valley and off in the distance the Hermitage Hotel, back in the Mt Cook village. Of course it makes sense as Aoraki can be seen from all rooms at the Hermitage.

From the tarn it's just a gentle climb up over the top of the moraine wall to the lookout point complete with lovely large picnic table.....and a dozen or so people. I sit and have my lunch watching as people arrive over the top of the ridge, oohing and aahing as they take in the glacier lake and Mt Cook ahead of them. Unfortunately the sun is now sitting right above Mt Cook spoiling the view as they jostle amongst themselves to get the best selfies. 

I was hoping the lake might have been frozen or semi-freddo with lots of icebergs bobbing about. The icebergs break away from the Hooker Glacier at the head of the lake. Sadly it wasn't frozen and there was only one big dirty 'berg that look more like a rock sitting in the middle of the lake.

The real surprise was down at the lake's edge below us, numerous small icebergs had been sucked towards the river outlet on the far side of the lake. They'd become stuck in an icy embrace by the beautiful coloured frozen glacial water.

And to give you some perspective, here you can see people at the edge. In fact if you look closely at the photo above you can see two people sitting on the rocks in the centre of the photo and another couple standing over by the outlet (click to enlarge the photo).

Many of the people arriving took their lookout photos, glanced around the mountains and then turned tail and headed out again. They were unaware of the magical spectacle down at lake level. I was unaware as well! Luckily I twisted my arm and forced myself to get down there to touch an iceberg.

Never mind the icebergs, this strange but stunning phenomenon was right along the lake's edge; an ice wave caught in suspension looking like it was just about to break onto the shore. 

The wave was made up of hundreds of  large irregular shaped plate ice piled on top of each other. A large patchwork of beautiful broken ice.

Up close there was quite a bit of noise as the ice cracked and slipped as it melted in the warm sunshine. People were also picking pieces up and smashing them on the rocks or throwing them out onto the ice adding to the noise. I know, I know, but don't tut-tut, it was a so much of fun, I was drawn to do the same. I felt like I was attending a Greek wedding smashing plates! (the lookout is behind that green mound, top centre)

Some people also chose to climb over the ice wave and try their skills at walking(skating) on the frozen lake. Most of them failed and made a spectacle of themselves in the process! The guy below managed to scoot out to that small 'berg to have his photo taken sitting on it. He fell coming back. It really was so slippery. 

Another guy walked quite a way out before his feet left him too it. I did feel sorry for him because I know that awful feeling when suddenly you're on your back in a heap on the ground. No one was willing to walk out and help him either and I don't blame them. He half crawled, half slipped his way back to terra-firma and hobbled off, pride deeply dented. Muffled sniggering could be heard nearby.

My theory is that the ice has formed on the lake and then the wind's got up and blown onshore quite ferociously and for quite some time, pushing lake water underneath the layer of ice breaking it up in the process and then pushing that onto shore as more ice formed behind. Whatever, I was thrilled to see another amazing spectacle of nature.

And I spent so much time down at the lake edge I finally managed to get a shot of Mt Cook without the sun spoiling it, it had moved off ever so slowly to the left. The Hooker Glacier terminal face can be seen at the top of the lake.

It was time to head back down the track to the carpark, there were lots more people out enjoying the warm sunshine which has now filled the whole of the wide flat valley floor.

I took another photo of Aoraki/Mt Cook (sans sun) just before the mountain disappeared out of sight as I neared the beginning of the track. 

And another photo of the Hermitage tucked in under the mountains on the far side of the valley. 'Rock flour' has turned the Mueller Glacier lake the beautiful teal colour the high country lakes are known for. The lake is trying to freeze too, there's a line across the centre just above the island where the ice is forming. 

There was one more short walk I wanted to do before I left the mountains and I was in a hurry to drive the few kilometres around to the trailhead. It's a short gut-busting walk straight up the moraine wall to the Tasman Glacier Lake. As per usual I've spent way too much time on the other walk and the sun is now fast disappearing behind the mountains, a shadow is quickly creeping across the vast expanse of the Tasman Valley. Darn! Oh well, I managed a few good shots the last time we climbed to the lake.

The Blue Lakes (which are blue no longer, check the link above for the reasons why), are frozen, so I'm hoping there might be a few icebergs on Tasman Glacier lake. I climb on as fast as possible hoping the shadow hasn't covered the lake as well.

Arriving at the top gasping for breath and with my heart pumping twenty to the dozen, I'm disappointed to see no 'bergs (well no huge ones, just a few specks here and there) and the lake disappearing into shadow as well (click on the photo to enlarge). 

Oh well, I sit down on a rock and casually take in the scenery as I wait for my breath to catch up and my pulse to return to normal. I take quiet satisfaction in seeing much younger (and supposedly fitter) people arrive, panting and gasping for breath as they virtually crawl over the last step. A few of them are Lions supporters and they're obviously suffering from the celebrations- the Lions played the Crusaders the night before and won 12-3.

Reflections & Ice- Wairepo Arm

Catch-up

While David fished the canal, I caught up on blogs & photo processing and waited patiently over three or four days for the cloud to lift and the wind to drop, and if at all possible, both together. I wanted to capture some early winter reflections around the two small lakes; Wairepo Arm & Kelland Pond, which are attached to the Ohau B canal, which in turn flows out of Lake Ruataniwha. 

A couple of times I was out the door and about to jump in the ute when the slightest breeze would blow in, ruffle the water and spoil the still waters for the rest of the afternoon. Eventually I timed it right, I had to drive down the canal to the power station and cross over and then back up the other side of the canal from where we were parked at the NZMCA Camp.

The last time I drove around this way the gate was locked, blocking access around the ponds from the canal end. I could have come in at the south end of the pond from the main road but the mud was thick on the ground. This time the gate was open and there was good access right along the edge of the water. 

It's the small shallow coves like the ones above that offer great reflection opportunities, any breeze takes it's time reaching into these narrow fingers. Don't forget to click on the photos to view them in detail.

The bare and colourful branches of the various willows, birches and poplars make ideal subjects. 

I stopped numerous times to walk out to the the tips of the coves, often through spongy boggy patches where the water had seeped under the lake edge. I checked in all directions for suitable subjects; this one is looking back towards the canal and into the sun.

And in this one (not a reflection) you can see us parked on the canal edge, just behind the salmon farm. The ponds are a great wildlife refuge and we've often walked around them looking for grebes and coots. Today the swans, ducks and scaups are milling about in the centre not too sure what the person is up to that keeps popping up behind trees along the edge. It's the middle of duck-shooting season so they have reason to worry even though the ponds are a safe haven for them.

Looking across the main pond of Wairepo Arm as a light breeze ruffles the water, disturbing any reflections from this vantage point but making a lovely panoramic capture.

I drove around the lake until I reached the main road, the wind had settled again and from two or three viewpoints along the side of the road, the reflections are magnificent.

While I'm taking photos a big flash black car with smoky windows pulls up beside the ute and out hops two puffer jacketed, beanie & scarf wearing guys and one Asian bride (sans groom) in a thin slinky white strapless number.

They clamber down to the water and her photographer poses her on the edge with these reflections behind. The other guy fiddles with photography gear. She will be freezing her butt off, don't let the blue sky and sunshine fool you, it is freezing cold, around 4-5c. 

They take numerous shots and then climb back up the bank, into the car and off. Because there was no groom, I'm thinking she was a model and they might have been doing a photoshoot for advertising. 

New Zealand is a top destination for Asian weddings, wedding photo shoots, second ceremonies and honeymoons. We must have seen a couple of dozen couples in various locations on our travels. And after all that build-up (see how I filled in the gaps between photos), no I didn't take a photo of her. I was too busy doing my own shots before the breeze returned.

The evergreen pines behind these bare willows make a lovely contrast.

And here they are in a pano shot.

I crossed over the road to Kelland Pond, just as the breeze returned, you can see it heading up the lake from the south.

And here it is just about to destroy my reflection.

It didn't matter, I had found a new subject. Tucked along the edge and in the shadow of the bare trees all day, ice had formed amongst the reeds.

Beautiful ice formations that were slowly melting leaving thin ice bridges that formed stars between the reeds. What was more interesting was the fact that the ice actually sat about 2-3 inches above the water level. The hydro canals rise and fall quite a lot over a day and sometimes even over a few hours. And so do the ponds as they are fed by the canal, the ice would have formed on a 'high tide'.

Many people pass through the MacKenzie Basin on their way to somewhere else and comment that it's a dry and barren landscape devoid of interest. They don't know what they're missing.

Salmon & Cows- MacKenzie Country

Catch-up- Once again I'm getting behind with my blog posts. We're on the road at the moment exploring the Canterbury high country while filling in a couple of weeks before we need to be back in Christchurch for an appointment. Very soon we'll be in one place for more than a week or two and I'll be able to prioritise catching up on blogs, so hang in there, I won't miss any. And I have lots of exciting places that we've been to share!

You'll recall we left Ohau C Campground after 60 hours of thick fog and on the morning the sun finally came out. We didn't move very far, just up the canal to our old familiar Ohau B NZMCA campsite. David still had a salmon to catch.

5th-wheelers rule!

We were treated to some spectacular sunrises (and a few very heavy frosts)...

...and some mind blowing sunsets. 

David fished on and on, freezing his butt off along with his toes and fingertips, and not enjoying it as much as he has in the past. He was determined to catch a salmon though and he must have cried a little too hard on a fellow fisherman's shoulder because before too long, he came home with a nice sized pannie. Thanks Murray! 

It's that time of the year when the weather is very fickle, several weather fronts swept through while we were there, this one arrived and departed with such speed it was hard to believe.

The photo below was taken just one hour after the one above. Hard to imagine isn't it?

The front approached from the south just as I headed over to the bridge to see what all the commotion I could hear was about- shouting, banging, barking, tooting and motorbikes revving. A herd of cows were being pushed onto the bridge but were very reluctant to cross. They'd come from the huge dairy farm on the right at the rear of the photo.

Once across the canal bridge, they strung out as they made their way to the spillway bridge. You can see the weather front heading north here...

...and just after this shot I made a dash for home as the heavens opened up and a massive downpour caused a quite a bit of surface flooding. 

Later that day I heard the same commotion...

...not once but twice more...

...and twice the next day too. One herd decided they were not going to cross, the lead cows balking and fussing about at the entrance but they could not be bullied into crossing. In the end, with traffic building up, the farmhands had to take them back down the farm track and regroup them before pushing them forward again, with different cows in the lead no doubt.

In all, five dairy herds of a similar size crossed the bridges on their way to pastures new. I managed to speak to one of the workers and she told me that they were moving them to their winter feeding ground, not far past Twizel and east, somewhere between the Pukaki River and the main road.

If you're a long time reader of my blog you may remember a post from late May, 2015 about Gypsy Day. Gypsy Day being the day sharemilkers shift their herds to their new farms. Well, I'm thinking that it wasn't in fact Gypsy Day then, it was this same farm shifting it's herds to their winter paddocks. 

 And all the while as the cows rumbled their way over the bridge, the fisher people below fished on...

...and finally David caught not one but two salmon, two reasonably sized fish. We offered Murray one of them to replace the one he gave us but he said he was sure to catch some more (I hope so otherwise he might have been sleeping under his van and not in it). So in the end we had three fish and the curse has finally been broken. Now, if only he could catch one of those monsters....

The sun sets on another fantastic time in the MacKenzie.