Nov. 22 Mt. Cook Oh! Oh! Oh! After the struggles I endured in Queenstown! Readers do you hear the sounds of melodrama, listen close for I exaggerate most! We took a shuttle to Mt. Cook village today and the trip there was worth the whole visit. Mt. Cook is New Zealand’s tallest mountain at 3800 meters and to see it against a backdrop of jagged white peaked ranges plus a foreground of a crystalline azure lake that goes on for unimaginable miles is to feel the spirit of God flitting at your soul. As you drive nearer and nearer this earthly heaven, God reaches out and shakes your memory and says “I made this. Do you remember now?” Worries are shed; sad memories are gone. This is God’s peace.
From our hostel room which really was a hotel room replete with big fluffy, white towels, a refrigerator, and its own restroom/shower, we could look out and view Mt. Sefton with its craggy snow splattered sides as it seemingly melts into Mt. Cook at the end of a valley. It is the antithesis to the stately Ms. Cook and looks like an unruly teenager rampaging out of control. You watch every day to see what new damage in the way of fallen snow fields has occurred. As Punakaiki mesmerized me so does this area. G and I share the dreamy qualities together, in unison, marveling at the force that has put such haunting beauty here.
We took a hike thru Hooker Valley over two swing bridges and traversed 2 foot wide ledges to be closer Mt. Cook.
A long the way, a glacial river appeared and peaked sternly around corners. Slate colored in appearance, it originates from the glacial melt at the base of Mt. Cook. It’s beauty does not lie in its appearance rather in its boldness and unrelenting call to be seen and heard. It is not masked by nooks and crannies for long. It stubbornly appears and remains until drained through braided waterways into lake.
G and I celebrated Thanksgiving here. We called or I should say Skyped Katie and Jessie and were able to see their faces and hear their voices. How could life be any better!