Going It Alone

‘The best protection any woman can have… is courage.’ – Elizabeth Cady Stanton.

Yesterday, I really felt like I was winning at life. I don’t mean that in a smug, self-satisfied way. I mean it in a ‘YESSS! I was nervous about this but I did it anyway and although I worried (almost constantly, actually), I still did it and it was AMAZING!!!’ way.

What did I do yesterday? Well, when I write it down, it probably won’t sound all that nerve-wracking or out of the ordinary. Here’s what I did:

Yesterday, I drove 53km out of Wanaka, of which approximately 40km was on a metalled (that’s gravel, to you and me) road, and the last 10km had nine fords I needed to cross. I then arrived in the middle of nowhere, parked my car, which was still miraculously working after some quite deep river crossings, and walked roughly 5km up a pretty steep valley to see a glacier. Signs along the way reminded me of the hazards I might encounter, including avalanches and landslides. There was one of the wobbly suspension bridges that New Zealand specialises in, crossing high above a boulder strewn and no doubt icy cold river. I hate those bridges. They freak me out big time. I heard ice breaking off the glacier, a rumble like thunder, but I couldn’t see it, and after the avalanche warnings I stood still for a moment, a bit nervous to continue. I realised that I hadn’t told anyone where I’d gone and if something did happen to me, it might take ages for people to find me or contact anyone I knew. I had no phone signal – that’d been lost around 30km ago. After I’d sat and admired the glacier for about fifteen minutes, I returned back down the pretty steep valley and walked back to the car park. Approximately 10km altogether. Then it was back through the fords, back along the 40km of gravel and pot holes to the main road and home. Oh, and did I mention, I did it all alone?

Okay, that paragraph was pretty much a summary of the jumble of my thoughts and worries as I walked / drove yesterday. I realised exactly how much I worry yesterday – about anything and everything, including things beyond my control, like whether there’s going to be an avalanche or a landslide, and whether it’s going to rain and flood the fords and cut me off… I could go on. It was a struggle to push the worries away, but I fought against them, and as I re-joined the main road to head home after my trip, I felt truly elated with myself. Despite everything going on in my head, I’d had a really wonderful day, enjoying some pristine and wild alpine landscapes, seeing the stunning blue glacier and I had a glow of achievement that I’d successfully driven through nine fords twice and not stalled the car in the middle of any of them. Win!!

New Zealand’s Department of Conservation (DOC) describe the particular hike I did yesterday quite romantically, I think. They describe it as an easy walking track, and I quote: ‘a good entry point to an area of spectacular alpine scenery, snowfields, glaciers, sheer rock cliffs and waterfalls… the track climbs through a small gorge into beech forest, then into alpine vegetation at the head of the valley, with good views of the glacier’. Call me naïve, but this conjures up images in my head of a gentle walk beside a river, with an incline but nothing too strenuous.

Even the names sound romantic – the road in is called the Raspberry Creek Road (which makes me think of sunny days and picnics in wicker hampers on checked rugs) and the walk is called the Rob Roy Glacier Valley hike, after the glacier you’re climbing to see. Rob Roy sounds like the name for an old piebald pony who spends his life grazing happily grazing in flower strewn meadows. Sorry, my imagination is getting the better of me… Back to yesterday.

Anyway, the walk wasn’t really tough. I’m not the fittest of people, so I huffed and puffed a bit up the incline. It was steeper than the DOC description suggests, with some areas of the track damaged by previous avalanches and landslides, so that a couple of times you have to pick your way across loose material and along dodgy areas that feel like they’re going to collapse at the smallest of weights. There is a warning for the track on the DOC website for these areas, telling you to take extreme care, so I did. There are lots of warning signs on the track itself – big signs warning you of the dangers you might encounter if you proceed. My romantic images were quickly wiped out and replaced by my worries about things beyond my control. I sometimes think DOC might be better to leave us in our ignorant bliss.

Despite all this, Rob Roy Glacier was spectacular. From my vantage point, where I sat for a good fifteen minutes or so, I could see the stunning blue ice and occasionally hear creaks and cracks as the ice moved slowly downhill. A waterfall tumbled off the edge of a sheer cliff and got blown by the wind into fine mist and spray, no water ever reaching the bottom. I’ve done a heli-hike onto a glacier in Franz Josef and loved every second of it, but having time to contemplate this glacier alone, without a tour group or really anyone else around was just amazing. Well worth my worries and the puffing up the hill and my red face and the fords and the possibility I might damage my hire car or get it stranded in a stream.

I know it sounds silly, but I’m particularly proud of myself for doing this alone. Fording nine (quite high due to heavy rains we’ve had recently) streams twice is quite a feat, to me, as was driving 40km on a gravel road, where you have to concentrate every second to ensure you don’t disappear into a massive pot hole and have the bottom of your car drop off. For some, all this might seem like nothing major, but for me it’s a big achievement – I’m proud of myself for having this awesome adventure on my own and coming through unscathed and elated, despite all my worries and concerns of things that could go wrong. And seeing the glacier really was the icing on the cake. Definitely worth it. I think I just need to worry less, enjoy more and perhaps try to take DOCs track descriptions a little less romantically next time…