Conquering Mount Doom and a beer on top of an active volcano

New Zealand. Home of sheep, rugby, and the occasional Lord of the Rings reference (because pretty much the entire of LOTR was filmed there).

But I wasn’t there just to chase hobbits or eat pie (yeah sure…) No, I was there for a month of adventure, capped off by climbing the iconic Mount Doom, aka Tongariro Crossing, or whatever other official name people insist on using. Let’s be honest though—when you see it, all you think is, “Frodo probably had a better map than I do right now.”

It started off as most of my plans do, somewhat half-baked, mildly insane, but filled with an inflated sense of confidence. Why not climb a volcano while I’m here, right? And so, after a few weeks of traveling, I found myself staring at the base of this beast, backpack filled with snacks and hopes of not dying from foot pain.


Mount Doom (Tongariro Crossing if you’re fancy)

Climbing Mount Doom wasn’t exactly like scaling Mordor’s fiery pit, but close enough. The hike? Brutal. The scenery? Unreal. The blisters? Let’s just say my feet resembled something out of a zombie movie by the time I finished, and good job I was given some old rags by our guide. At the summit, though, it was all worth it. The view was mind blowing which I’ll have to find my old pictures, and just for that brief moment, I felt like the star of my own epic adventure—minus the ring of doom, plus a few questionable sock choices.

A Beer at the Top with Brad

Ah, Brad. My American friend who joined us me on this ludicrous journey. After hours of climbing, sweating, and the occasional existential crisis about whether or not I’m a hobbit in a human body, we made it to the top. And what did we do? Crack open a cold one (or slightly warm), of course. There’s nothing like drinking a beer at the top of a volcano, staring out at the vast, epic landscape, and thinking, “Why the hell did I agree to this?”

The Descent: Blisters and Regret

Going up was hard, but going down? That was a whole new level of suffering. My feet were blistering, my legs were turning into jelly, and I’m pretty sure I lost any ounce of dignity I had left by the time I limped back to the van. But hey, at least I didn’t have to toss any magical jewellery into the fiery abyss at the end of it.

A Month in Middle-earth

The hike was the cherry on top of my month in New Zealand. From wandering around Auckland pretending to understand rugby, to almost getting lost in Queensland, this place is like stepping into a different world, one where every turn makes you feel like you’re in a movie. For a place with more sheep than people, it really knows how to impress.

New Zealand, you were amazing. Mount Doom, you almost destroyed me. But I lived to tell the tale—and drink that beer at the top. My feet might still be recovering, but my soul? Oh, it’s ready for the next big adventure.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top