Happy valleys, perfect pistes
Simon Maude revisits the magnificent and unpredictable Mt Ruapehu, and helps himself to an extralarge serving of skifield bliss.
Driving down from Auckland there’s this spot just after Taumarunui where you get your first glimpse of snowcapped Mt Ruapehu – it’s a sight that always sends my spirits soaring. I’m sure scores of winter holidaymakers feel the same when they spot the 2797-metre dormant volcanic peak.
This winter was different though. It had been 18 years since I’d seen the mountain playground; 18 years of hearing more about climate change and its effect on snow sports; and nearly five years since our daughter was born. I was bringing her, my wife, and grandma on our first snow adventure together. So, would Ruapehu’s mercurial weather grant us fair conditions, and would all generations have a good time? I wanted them to share my joy of the mountain.
After a comfy night at Ohakune’s Rocky Mountain Chalets, we drove 45 minutes from the adventure tourism town to National Park’s Whakapapa Ski Field. As we rounded the mountain, the low clouds parted, anxieties lifted, and Ruapehu’s oldest commercial skifield sparkled white under clear, still blue skies. Whakapapa was wellcovered with snow, despite the last big dump several weeks before. With a few small dustings of natural snow and dozens of snowmakers, the mountain staff had worked hard to keep the field in tip-top condition.
Before morning lessons, Ruapehu Alpine Lift’s Bianca Lam showed us around Whakapapa and whisked us up to New Zealand’s highest eatery for morning tea. At 2020m, Knoll Ridge Cafe offers breathtaking views of the jagged Pinnacles peaks. Getting to and from the cafe was easy on two high-speed quad chairlifts. My 4-year-old daughter, a first-time chairlift rider found the rides thrilling, giggling away between asking Bianca everything she could think of about the mountain.
Using the right equipment and getting lessons can make or break a family ski holiday, so on return to the base facilities, Whakapapa’s rental team expertly fitted us with top-quality skis, boots and poles.
Having skied before, I decided to hire from the field’s extensive range of performance skis and boots. Equipment can be rented for half a day or a full season, depending on your needs. If you’re quick, the season option may be just the ticket, especially if you’ve got growing kids who will probably need new boots and skis every year.
Minutes later, we were ready for morning lessons. Instructors were on hand to safely introduce our daughter to skiing – without a trace of separation anxiety, she eagerly shuffled off on skis to join the other kids on Happy Valley’s sheltered, forgiving slopes.
My wife, who’d skied once years ago, needed a few confidencebooster lessons so she joined a just-past-beginner group lesson, with granny in tow. Waiting for me was a one-on-one two-hour advanced lesson with Felix the Swedish ski instructor. I was nervous. Would I make an idiot of myself, me and my ‘‘performance skis’’? Was my braggadocio about to be punctured?
‘‘OK, let’s go,’’ a matter-of-fact Felix declared. Light midweek crowds and the efficient lifts meant we were four lifts up and away in minutes, skiing Ruapehu’s famed Far West runs. In his quiet Swedish way, Felix dismantled my skiing style and helped me rebuild it with honour. By the end of the lesson I was as confident as ever ripping down the steep slopes.
A bonus of buying lessons on the upper mountain is the instructors’ tour of Whakapapa’s extensive and varying groomed and ungroomed trails, which will leave you feeling confident about navigating its 54 intermediate and advanced runs.
Old memories of skiing the mountain flooded back but Whakapapa felt new to me. Ruapehu Alpine Lifts, which runs both Whakapapa and Turoa fields has reinvested substantial amounts into both fields. Next year, at Whakapapa, there should be yet another new chairlift to make getting up and down the mountain even more comfortable and easier. At the base of Whakapapa’s well-built ‘‘The Bruce’’ road sits Kiwi architectural icon The Chateau. A fabulous place to stay, the 87-year-old, neo-Georgian Chateau Tongariro also offers a superb high tea beneath stunning views of Ruapehu’s volcanic sister Mt Tongariro. Under arching bay windows, our famished party tucked into stacks of French macarons, mini cheesecakes, scones, and cucumber sandwiches, all washed down with exotic teas.
Tired but replete, we returned to Ohakune to the warming sound of our chalet’s heat pump. Rocky Mountain Chalets’ self-contained units are varied; owned by different people, they each offer a comfortable stay. Our twobedroom unit with its white timber walls felt fresh and light, and with its comfy couches, it was a great space to unwind. A short walk away is Ohakune’s town centre, with heaps of restaurants and bars to choose from.
The next morning we headed to Turoa Ski Field on Ruapehu’s south-western slopes. The weather had closed in and it wasn’t looking great; I persevered, convincing everyone to suit up for another day of skiing. Ruapehu is a funny place: one side of the mountain can be bathed in sun, the other a howling white-out gale. Turoa that morning was looking that way. But you should always try. The 17-kilometre drive up there on the sealed road enveloped by lush native forest is worth the effort alone.
Waiting at Turoa’s base facilities are the first of the mountain’s two learner areas. Unlike Whakapapa, Turoa also has an advanced learner area further up its 722m vertical drop which helps novice skiers and snowboarders bridge the gap before graduating to more challenging slopes. Playing it safe, wife, daughter and grandmother stayed on the bottom slopes for another lesson while I braved the windy upper slopes, a blizzard threatening. Conveniently, while the adults ski or enjoy a coffee in one of Turoa’s cafes, kids aged 2 to 5 can play on the field’s licensed Yeti Childcare Centre.
Flat-lit snow made it hard to see all the bumps and drops. Luckily, Turoa’s grooming crew work hard to provide well-kept on-piste runs for days like this. Despite the occasional snow flurry, I was happy making runs down ‘‘The Giant’’ chairlift all day long: the new dusting of snow made conditions just right for perfect carving turns.
Our several days’ skiing were over. And as Ruapehu diminished in the car’s rear view mirror, there was a mountain-sized hole in my heart.
The writer travelled courtesy of Visit Ruapehu.