Fox Glacier vs. Franz Josef Glacier

The next morning, after fighting off the bugs, I got dressed and snuck into the driver's seat via the small passageway through the folded-down middle seat of the front bench and under the framing and curtain holders, trying to avoid stepping outside and letting in more bugs. Just an hour or two up the road, and I arrived at my first destination, Fox Glacier. Completely out of place, a short drive along a dirt road through thick rainforest leads to...a huge mass of ice, looming in the valley of two green mountains. The glacier is one of the fastest moving in the world, and it has been advancing and retreating in waves for as long as has been recorded. Just fifty years ago, it was a few kilometers down the access road, as indicated by sign posts, though it is said to be retreating now, perhaps in part due to global warming, if that does exist. The speed of the advancing glacier and large amounts of accumulation from the mountains above allow it to exist in such temperate conditions. The glacial valley itself is quite dramatic, with huge rock walls advancing almost vertically along the sides where the glacier used to be, scraping away at the mountains and leaving a gray river full of boulders and pebbles in its place. I followed the other tourists passed a few warning signs, and I may or may not have crossed one of the barriers to get an up close look at the block of ice. It wasn't quite peer pressure as I saw everyone else doing it, it was more of peer acceptance, figuring that if that old guy could do it and that out of shape lady could do it and that naive German tourist could do it, of course I could. So, I walked through the rockslide area, along the river, feeling the breezes of air get colder and colder as it came off the glacier. Soon, I was upon the ice mass, in awe of the size of the beast. Huge chunks of ice larger than boulders fell into the water and floated viciously downstream, noisily ramming other rocks and the shore along the way, giving a true impression of the natural power of the area. An ice cave about 30 feet high had formed in the opening of the front of the glacier where the ice was melting away, falling into the river below, and this is one of the reasons that the barriers were up. The unstable ice cave/arch can collapse at any time, causing a huge surge in the water below, taking with it any unsuspecting tourists trying to get just a bit closer for the perfect shot along the banks of the frosty brownish water. Much like an iceberg, we could only see a bit of the entire ice structure which continues up into the mist and peaks for 13 km, though that comparison makes absolutely no sense if you know anything about icebergs. It just came to me, though. The front of the glacier contains the debris carried down by the entire glacier, so the visible ice is littered with rocks and gravel along the face, combining with the pure blues and whites to create an interesting mix of natural beauty and ruggedness.

I stared at the dwarfing glacier for almost an hour before returning back to "town" and checking out the one supermarket. Amazingly, as I searched the aisles aimlessly, I found something that caught my attention - they had taco shells, so the wheels in my mind started turning. I found some taco sauce and lettuce, so all I needed was the meat. They didn't have anything close to ground beef in the meat section, so I ended up in the soup section where I found a can of Savoury Mince, which is basically some cheap ground beef and pork along with chopped bits of carrot and peas, somewhat like a beef stew or vegetable beef soup combo. I figured this would have to do, so I made my purchase (along with some cookies and amazing double chocolate muffins), and I went happily on my way, excited about the prospect of dinner. I drove off from the tiny town, looking for a place to park the van for the night and start my feast. Along the winding, steep road, I found a few gravel pullouts around wide turns, but I didn't like the prospect of having headlights shine in every time someone came around the corner, so I kept looking. While braking down one hill, I saw the telltale track of a good spot - two tire tracks in a tiny clearing of the forest. I quickly turned around and headed back to check out the spot. The two tracks with grass and small plants in between lead around a short bend then emptied into a nice parking lot sort of area, what appeared to be some sort of construction site a few years ago. It was a perfect spot in the middle of the woods, so I claimed it as my own for the night and began my dinner preparations. First, trying to heat the contents of the can to make the mix a bit better and more taco-like, I found that I actually don't have the hose to connect the gas canister to my stove, so that idea was a bust. Up to this point, I'd just been eating cold food or cooking at the random motor camp where I have stayed a few times that have community kitchens. So, the meal would be cold, but I didn't think it would be a problem, and I figured that if they're selling it as soup, the meat must already be cooked, so I'd be alright healthwise. So, I mixed in the taco sauce with chunks of the meat/soup, took out the shells, and made the best of it. This was no Taco Bell, but it wasn't bad, and I was pretty proud of it. Six tacos later, I decided that I was finished, and I could save the other half of the meal for the next night, making the meal both good and economical.

Again rain poured down at times during the night and the early morning, so I got a little later start than normal - about 9 am. (Normally I would get up late, but I've adjusted to living by the sun, since there's not much to do in a campervan once the sun goes down.) Immediately, I was enthralled by the awesome views all around - the sun peaking through the mist providing bright blue skies and reflecting off the rain soaked vegetation. The valleys below were green and lush, with the occasional waterfall replenishing the rivers and streams passing through. I first drove back to the Fox Glacier area, just to make sure that I wasn't missing any spectacular views there, but the morning clouds were still covering the mountains that loom behind the glacier, so I turned back and headed North to the Franz Josef glacier, only 25 km away. Franz Josef is the more popular of the two glaciers, meaning a bit more people and one or two more cafes, though it also wasn't much of a township. As before, I followed a murky river up into the rainforest before coming to a clearing, revealing a white swath in the area between the two green mountains. I made my way to the first lookout at Sentinel Point and saw the extent of the glacier. Similar to the Fox, it stretches from the rocky river bed below up to the peaks of the mountains around, with steep canyon-like walls on either side where the glacier had been in previous years. Waterfalls came down the side, fueled by the rain from the night before, and the clouds still hung overhead, though they began to clear as the morning progressed.

I moved on to the next track, a walk in the glacial valley along the river, up to the face of the glacier. The signs advised walkers to be careful, knowledgeable, or with a guide, but I figured my previous days glacier walking experience served me well, so I pressed on, along with the other intrepid visitors. The moss and lichen in the area are slowly trying to take back the exposed valley, leaving interesting green, red and yellow patches along the rocks. I also saw a few spots that were blocked off, protecting some native vegetation that is only known to exist in four locations, though it didn't look much different that the other stuff, so no pictures there. Nearing the terminus, the air again grew cold, and the warning signs grew more frequent and desperate. I stopped at the ropes that said "Do Not Proceed." Only the guided tours that walked on the glacier walked past this point, supposedly, though more and more people kept passing by me, making their own ways to the ice. After a motivation speech from an Englishman who said it was completely worth it and easier than other parts of the walk, "Bollocks to these ropes," he said, I was convinced, so I made my way over the final boulders to the frozen wall of ice. This glacier also had an ice arch from melting away at the bottom, though I wasn't foolish enough as another visitor who decided to go right underneath it, at the water's edge for a better view. Not too long ago, two tourists were trapped by a collapse in the cave, and the rangers had to risk their own lives saving them, prompting the posting around town of the newspaper's account of the story and the "bloody stupid tourists," as the ranger said. This fearless visitor also proceeded to climb the ladder and ice stairs carved into the glacier for the guided walks on top of the front of the glacier, but I resisted the urge. This mass of ice isn't as long as the Fox Glacier, but it's just as, if not more impressive, sandwiched between the two mountains and forest. I slowly backed away, admiring the shining blues of the ice, poking out in between the muted grays of the ridges where the debris collected.

Just as I arrived safely back to the parking lot, the rain started to come down, so I jumped in and made some lunch - peanut butter and honey sandwiches, topped with a thin layer of Cocoa Krispies. I had the idea the other day for the concoction, and it's quite good, so I think I'll stick with it. Surely, bits of sugary chocolate will make anything better, and sandwiches are no exception. I've also been eating many handfuls of these for breakfast, since I decided that it wasn't worth it to buy milk and worry about keeping it cold all the time. In addition, I have a few more plastic bags of food in the corner of the van with some fruit and muesli, a sort of oatmeal type cereal with bits of dried fruit that also makes a great snack and is very popular down under. After lunch, I pulled out, but then I looked up and saw that the clouds over the apex of the glacier had cleared, so I pulled back into my space and walked back to the lookout point for a few more pictures and moments of awe. I hung out in town for a little while longer, filled up on gas and candy, and I was soon back on my way, with a few hours of daylight to spare. My next stop was somewhere further up the West Coast, but I had no real idea where, so I hit the road and figured I'd decide something along the way. That's the beauty of the campervan. I can basically just drive until I find an opening on the side of the road or am sick of driving, and then I simply pull over and call it a night. It's been a great way to see the country, especially given my impulsive stops and lack of true planning, which has made the trip much more enjoyable and a bit of an adventure. Planning every last detail in travelling never works anyway and causes frustration, so I'm completely avoiding that whole issue. I have places in mind that I'd like to visit, I know what I really want to see when I get there, and I have a somewhat general idea of what direction I should be travelling, but that's about it. The other nice thing is that the road, signs and facilities of New Zealand are perfectly geared for tourists, so it's not a problem arriving somewhere without a clue of what's going on.

(The cliff carved away by the Fox Glacier)

(The front of Fox Glacier. For a bit of perspective, that ice cave at the entrance is about 35 feet high. It's big. Picture - not so big. Real life - very big.)

(A closeup of the ice cave and the boulder sized chunks of ice floating down the muddy river)

(A distant view of the Franz Josef Glacier, sandwiched between the two mountains)

(Getting closer...)

(The ice cave and blue/gray scenery at the terminus of the Franz Josef)