Personal Narrative Essay: The Climb Up Mount Tongariro

The climb up Mount Tongariro was the most gratifying and exciting day trip I've ever undertaken. The distinctive beauty and unique scenery were enough for the trip to be the most exhilarating and angelic trip I've ever experienced, but the unique climb and a variety of other delights combined together made it the most transcendent vacation of my life.  

Mt Tongariro is New Zealand's oldest national park, as well as one of the oldest in the world. Because of local Maori pressure on the government, this region was designated as a national park in 1894. The creation of the national park allows this land to be preserved and protected from the European settlers. 

For the climb started bright and early, so early that condensation still beaded the tussock. The sun had just risen, tinting the slopes with a golden glow, as if the peak was a medal, waiting to be acquired. The air was light and fresh as we started to climb.  We walked, listening to the water flow beside the path, chuckling and gurgling. I looked up to see the colossal mountain, its face shrouded in the clouds, waiting and watching impassively from above. 

The first part of the walk was relaxing, with level terrain and beautiful views. The golden glow lingered on the mountain, and as we progressed, the red and green became more evident, bringing the peak to life. The walk was a breeze, calming almost, but this all changed when we met the first stair of the devil's staircase. The devil's stairwell appeared to go on forever. The wooden steps were obscured and rugged, indicating how many people they had carried. The stairs got increasingly difficult and fascinating after that. As I walked along the trail, the sun shone brightly, as if it looked over us, rooting as we went on. Every time I turned around, I was treated to a new scene, one that was always more fascinating than the one before it. The view from the summit was more breathtaking. It was shrouded in clouds that strangely dissipated over time, revealing the brilliant crimson scarlet beneath.

I'd heard good things about the scree slopes from others, but this really exceeded my expectations. Broken rocks and shards near the base of crags, mountains, volcanoes, and valley shoulders are referred to as screen. I'd previously encountered screen sloping at the alpine crossing on Mt Tarawera, but the slope on Mt Tongariro was at another level. In addition to the enjoyable sport of 'scree skiing,' in which you slide down a hill with considerable control. The landscape was breathtaking. The horizon was laid down by soft clouds, which covered the peaks in a creamy puff, colored by the evening light. Two lakes laid within the grey cliffs, intensifying the colors. The first one was bright green which danced along with the wind, shimmering, from the gentile ray. The turquoise one rested in the back, ringed with creamy blond as if it were nestled in the lake. 

This magnificent, unforgettable journey came to a close with a refreshing hug from nature's open arms beneath the canopy. The thought of having walked nearly 20km all came back to me. A sensation of accomplishment and fatigue poured over me at the same time. I took one more glance at the summit, and it grinned. And then they vanished behind the clouds once more, as if they had said their goodbyes.