Eagle Lake: A Worthwhile Day Hike

My wife and I like to try hiking trails we’ve never used before. Fortunately for us, there are dozens of trails in the Reno and Lake Tahoe area. A couple of summers ago, we decided to try the somewhat popular, moderate-to-strenuous Eagle Lake Trail at Lake Tahoe.

To get there, one must drive to Emerald Bay. Just south of the parking area for the family-oriented Vikingsholm, on the mountain side of Hwy 89, is the entrance to the smaller parking lot for the trailhead. There are actually 2 or 3 trails accessed from the same trailhead; the lot fills up quickly, so it pays to get there early. We arrived around 8:30, and it was about 3/4 full. We filled out our day-use paper and dropped it in the box, and we were on our way.

The Eagle Lake trail takes a left turn a few yards up the hill. It’s a pretty easy walk up to Eagle Falls, with a picturesque viewpoint from a footbridge over Eagle Creek (where I apparently neglected to take any pictures). After crossing the bridge, the trail turns uphill and becomes a bit steeper for about a mile-and-a-half.

South Lake Tahoe

Rubicon Peak

At different points along the climb, the views of Lake Tahoe open up, and the Jewel of the Sierras reveals her true splendor. My photos do not do justice to the magnificent remains of the ice age. (If you look at the valley between Maggie’s Peak, where we were standing, and Rubicon Peak from the East Shore, you can see the tell-tale U-shape caused by glacial carving. The eastern part of the Tahoe Rim Trail is on our list, and I’ll try to remember to take photos of this when we do that, if we can see it.)

Emerald Bay, Vikingsholm, Tea House, & Tahoe

We emerged from the creek-side climb onto a large meadow just below Eagle Lake, then continued up about another 60 vertical feet, over about a half-mile, to the lake itself. We had a snack on the shore, and I took a couple of photos of a nearby unnamed peak and some of the local residents.

We then went on around the shore until the trail was lost in some boulders on the southeast side. We climbed in them a bit, then decided it was time to head back. By the time we got back to where we’d rested, there were quite a few other people there, evidencing the trail’s popularity.

When we left the parking lot at around noon, there were cars parked on the shoulder along Hwy 89–a common sight in the summer. It was just beginning to get really warm, which is another big advantage to starting early. Of course, “early” to me is not all that early. Those of you up before first light should be able to get primo parking spaces!

New Zealand Diary, Epilogue

On the way back, we had a long layover in Fiji. About 6 hours. We soon exhausted the few stores and restaurants in the tiny airport, and had our fill of the Indonesian Oreos® and Malaysian Pringles®. DW began striking up conversations with the airport workers. The first one she talked to was a janitor, who told us about his family and his little house near the beach. (Of course, Fiji is a volcanic island; most of the houses are near the beach.)

Next, she was talking to all the young women clerking the souvenir shops, and getting them to go over to the music shop to dance on their breaks. By the time we left that airport, even the Fijian Police were wishing us a good journey, and calling us by name.

The whole time we were in New Zealand, in the middle of summer, the temperature had not risen above around 75°F. When we landed at LAX that afternoon (because of the International Date Line we arrived on the afternoon of the same day we left Fiji), the temperature was 80°F.

Home, sweet home! Time to start planning the next vacation. Let’s see: France? China? Colorado? Weekend at Bernie’s? Who knows where we’ll go next?

New Zealand Diary, Day 16

Day 16: Tirau and Town
We awoke with a hankering for an omelet and bacon–not both of us for the same thing–so after checking out and exchanging good wishes with Faith we headed back downtown to the Robert Harris Coffee Roasters shop. We enjoyed another excellent cup of coffee, then headed northwest on Highway 5. We stopped again a couple of km from the junction with the lake shore road, at the Agrodome. DW wanted a souvenir that had something to do with sheep. She settled on a pair of gloves made of a blend of Merino wool and possum fur. The blend is softer than 100% Merino, approaching cashmere; as the possum is a widespread pest in New Zealand, there is a vibrant trapping industry that supplies pelts. I looked at gloves, hats, moccasins, and even wool ties, but finally decided on photos of the ovine residents of the park.

Regretfully, these four are the only photos in today’s blog. But there is more story to be told.

About 40 km out of Rotorua is the hamlet of Tirau. We must have driven through there on the trip south, but it looked particularly charming and tranquil as we passed through going north. It’s situated in the foothills of the mountains around Rotorua, just above the central plain containing Cambridge and Hamilton. As I recall, there wasn’t much of a division between these two latter burgs–it was like one big city as we drove through. Lots of roundabouts, including some that weren’t quite finished yet.

Another 100 km or so and we were driving up the Auckland freeway toward the airport, since our hotel was one that specialized in airport patrons. Of course I knew what the general area looked like and that the hotel would be easy to find once I got on the right road. The wrinkle was that the roads in the area go through two or three name changes in quick succession. I exited the freeway once to look at the (barely adequate) rental agency map, and it turned out that the road we wanted was the next exit. I later learned that the best exit was the 2nd one, the road that connected the freeway to the airport, but it was early and we got to see a bit more of the Mangere neighborhood.

We checked in to the hotel and, true to the word of the clerk that first night, we got the exact same room. We got the car emptied and our things to the room at about 4:40. It was quite warm, and we had the slider open, so we could clearly hear the power tools being used for repairs two rooms down. Fortunately, the noise stopped promptly at 5:00. I was a little surprised I didn’t hear a steam whistle and a raucous “Yabba-dabba-doo!”

After washing off the road fatigue, we decided to visit downtown Auckland. We again went the way we’d been instructed to get to the freeway north, but this time we exited at one of the city-center exits. We drove around town for almost an hour, admiring the old buildings nestled among the newer skyscrapers. We found, miraculously, a parking space that was not being metered just a few blocks from the downtown shopping area. We wandered around the area, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells. Yes, there were several small restaurants open for dinner, and we realized we were hungry. After passing up a few seafood places, Italian places, and even a kebab eatery, we settled on the California Burrito shop.

When we had finished the huge burritos (we should have split one), we made our way back to the hotel and turned in the rental car. We had spied a convenience store/café about 1.5 km from the hotel, and were in the mood for a little dessert, so we walked there and got a couple of cookies and coffees. We walked back, eating and drinking, along the other side of the street. About halfway there was a largish cemetery, and we went in to have a look.

The first section we came to was quite new, and occupied mainly by Chinese and other Asian immigrants. Having visited the Chinese cemetery in Manila, the Philippines, I was familiar with the custom of bringing food and items with which the departed could occupy their time, like crossword puzzles or handheld video games. Still, it was fascinating to see some of the elaborate displays created by loved ones.

We wandered over into the older central section, and found some graves from the early part of the 20th century. I don't recall any from the 1800s, but there were a couple from the 1910s, pre-WWI. On the way to the hotel that afternoon we had driven on Kirkbride Road; there in Mangere Cemetery was the Kirkbride family plot.

We were just about to leave when we heard a whoosh and a low roar come from a small building about 50 m from us. We realized it must be a crematorium, and there were clients to be processed. We continued our egress to the street, then back to the hotel. The room had cooled off, so we relaxed for a while, finally falling asleep to the faint sounds of jetliners. Our flight the next day did not leave early, but we were leaving all too soon.

New Zealand Diary, Day 15

Day 15: Springs & Steam
OK, admittedly this installment isn’t as steamy as the previous one. Let’s just start with brekkie, shall we?

DW and I ventured downtown, again, and this time bypassed the McCafé to find a more local place. We had seen a “Robert Harris Coffee Roasters” store the previous night, so we found it again and went in. It had a nice little self-serve cafeteria-style line, with hot selections such as pies and burritos, followed by cold selections like cereal and Danish. The patrons could bypass all that and order a cooked breakfast at the registers, which would be brought out to the table when ready. The real point of the place, though, was the coffee, which was very good. Most of the places, you may recall, made espresso drinks; Robert Harris offered those plus regular brewed coffee, of a quite delicious roast and blend.

Forgive me for waxing rhapsodic about the café. The best part of that meal was that we met a local man whose daughter lives in Florida. He loved talking with a couple of Americans, and he gave us some tips on other things to see in the Rotorua area. He was actually from Ngongotaha, a couple of km north of town on the west side of the lake. He told us of the Hamurana Spring, a which puts out around 1 million gallons per hour of fresh, cool water. It’s located a few hundred meters from the north shore of Lake Rotorua, and creates a river at least 20m wide–although not very deep–that flows into the lake.

The track from the carpark up to the spring goes through a small grove of redwoods. Around the spring itself is a fairly elaborate deck system, with one part that juts out so people can look directly down into the spring’s channel through the rock. As the track loops around the spring, there are a couple of places where, if you bring your cup like our breakfast companion suggested, you can obtain a sample of the water and have a taste. It is very good water, although not quite as exquisite as the gent had claimed, and just cellar-cool (around 50°F, 10°C), not fridge-cold.

I did take a photo looking down into the spring, but it basically looks like a wet blob, so I'm not posting it.

After visiting the spring, we took the alternate path back to the carpark to avoid the bulk of the people who were also there. On the way back to Rotorua for a forgettable lunch, we stopped by another place the gent had recommended, the Agrodome. We looked around and checked out the prices for the shows, and decided instead just to have a quick “Bo-peep” in the souvenir shop. We found the cutest little stuffed bird toys that, when squeezed, played recorded calls of the species they represented. We recognized a couple from our previous day’s hike. After stopping by the hotel for our water bottles, we drove back to The Redwoods, as we had planned, to walk the Yellow (Pohaturoa) Track.

Town & Lake

Look familiar?

The track began in the same way from the visitor center through the redwood grove, past the pool and up the hill. Shortly after it started up, it split off to the right to take us through a small saddle and then up the face of the hill overlooking the south end of the valley where the town of Rotorua lay. It led on upward past some erosion on the track to a summit, where a short path led to a lookout on the other side of the hill. This vantage point afforded a view of the lush valley between there and Lake Okareka, but we could not see the lake.

From there, the track went down through swamp gum and white oak forests, and more of the ubiquitous white pines. We came to a bridge over a small creek, but due to the recent rains the creek was now about 6 inches over the bridge. There was a young woman with two dogs in front of us, and one of the dogs was very hesitant to walk through the water. She had to fairly drag it across, while the other waited on the other side and watched. We gave her time to get across and head on down the track before we took our boots off. Thankfully the water was not too chilly, and my toes were not even numbed. Much.

There was a bit more up and down on the track, and it emerged onto a service road near a waste water processing plant, following the road on down to Long Mile Road and the visitor center. We had planned to visit there again to get some more information about something or other, but found it closed–it was after 5pm.

Back to the room to clean up and get on our evening clothes (clean shorts and T-shirt). Tonight we would eat at the Tandoori Palace, the Indian restaurant across Tutanekai Street from The Thai Restaurant. As it had been cloudy all day, and we’d recently walked through a creek, we decided to start with a hot drink, Indian Tea. It was very good, sweet, with milk. We got one vegetarian dish and one chicken dish to share, and enjoyed both the food and the people-watching.

The next day we had to drive back to Auckland and our airport hotel, so with tired muscles and full bellies we went back to the room, and were soon asleep.