SUMMER HERE -- SKI TIME THERE

ESCAPING THE HEAT FOR A COOL TIME ON MOUNT HUTT

Author: By Natasha Nowakowski, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, June 28, 1998

Page: M1

Section: Travel

While my friend is a former ski racer with an NCAA All-American title as well as three broken legs to his credit, I was hoping extra time on the slopes would improve my skills beyond those of a bumbling intermediate.

Situated on the spine of the Southern Alps that is home to Mount Cook, the tallest peak in Australasia, the ski field is a mile-wide basin -- a single rock bowl spanning 2,500 feet from the 7,180-foot summit to the lowest lift on the mountain's south face (situated below the parking lot). Because of its unique geographic position east of the Main Divide, it is spared rain brought by frequent northwesterly storms coming off the Tasman Sea. As a result, the season is long (typically five months), snow is plentiful (average snow height is 6 feet), powder days are not uncommon, and avalanche bombing is a daily routine.

The idea of building Canterbury's first commercial ski field in the basin came to fruition in 1969 from a band of determined sportsmen at the local Methven Lions Club. To test the feasibility of such a project, Willie Huber, the Austrian ski instructor and professional mountain guide, camped on the mountain for four frosty months in winter 1972 to study the weather, snow conditions, and temperature fluctuations. With a favorable report from Huber, Doug Hood and company began the arduous construction of a rudimentary single-lane access road six miles long; a year later, Mount Hutt kicked into life with one rope tow and a parking lot for 200 vehicles. Since then, the pilot road has been widened to two lanes and the field has added to its repertoire a triple chair, a high-speed quad, three T-bars, and two platters.

Its Maori name is ``Opuke,'' but no one seems to be able to ascertain its meaning. Mount Hutt's namesake is John Hutt (1795-1880), who became the first chairman of the Canterbury Association after a stint as governor of western Australia (1839-1846). The ski field is now owned by the Mount Cook Group, a subsidiary of Air New Zealand that also operates the Coronet Peak and the Remarkables ski fields of Queenstown in New Zealand's southern Otago region.

To get the most out of skiing Mount Hutt's gargantuan bowl, chuck the trail map and use your imagination. There are no trees to define your runs, a fact that makes the degree of steepness deceiving; and there are no limits to where you can ski, skill permitting. There are minibowls with fat lips, niggly-wiggly chutes, lolling rolls, untamed wide open faces, gentle learning slopes, and buffed gradients ideal for carving. With a ring of snow-covered bluffs and a backside that descends to the braided Rakaia Gorge (formed by glaciers of the distant past), there is ample opportunity for hellacious off-piste skiing.

On the western flanks in no-man's land is the notorious 32-degree off-piste Towers run. In its upper portion, when there is enough snow, derring-do skiers slip between anomalous escarpments that open up majestically into an immense expanse. Once past the midway triple station, the run plummets down a fairly steep sculptured valley to where the triple-chair originates. The Towers is a favorite among Cantabrians not only for its tendency to give a tremendous shot of adrenaline but also for its bird's-eye view of the plains. And on a clear day, the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean can be sighted out yonder.

Mount Hutt's eastern cirque is deeply concave and abounds with short but steep runs having names like High Dive. Skiers access the bowl via the Virgin Mile cat-track, which traverses along the prominent ridge from the North Peak, a passage that offers a glimpse of the region's contrasting climate. Due west, the shadowy recesses of the Rakaia Gorge disappear into an undulating snow-whitened valley; and due east, the river snakes through a flowered bushland out to the sea. A look from the summit proper, a short walk from the drop-off zone at the highest T-bar, is a rite of passage for visitors. The view from there takes in an awe-inspiring sweep of the pearly Southern Alps stretching past the vanishing point.

Snowboarders, big-air junkies, carvers, and neophytes come to Mount Hutt in droves to ride its naturally formed snowboard park. While many are locals, a good number hail from Australia (they are usually surfers in disguise), and from Japan, where boarding has hit its youth population in a big way. To accommodate the new wave of riders, Mount Hutt has installed a 10-foot-high, 150-foot-long International Ski Federation-styled half pipe dubbed ``Streets Warp,'' where ``wide-load'' competitions take place. Triple chair riders have an entertaining view of boarders launching aerials and other godforsaken tricks on the half pipe, just past the midway station.

True to their international reputation as friendly Kiwi hosts, the Mount Hutt staff members are an affable bunch. I took a carver clinic with the ski school and found that it lived up to its billing as the best ski school in New Zealand. And for a good reason: Mount Hutt's instructors, I discovered, are dedicated professionals committed to skiing and to helping people learn. My instructor was Sean MacCarron, an engaging fellow who kept insisting: ``Roll your knees in!'' I learned he is based at Colorado's Copper Mountain Resort (where last season he was voted instructor of the year by his clients), and is an ex-Royal Marine who first learned to ski on a pair of wooden planks during a NATO training exercise in Norway. He has since taught for the last 17 seasons, back to back.

For a mountain of its stature, Mount Hutt's facilities are a bit perplexing. The restrooms are located in the same building that houses the ski school across the way from the lodge. The lodge itself is on the small side, but a two-tiered, L-shaped deck makes up for its lack of room. The intense alpine sun often makes it warm enough in the afternoon to eat outside with the keas, amusing and cheeky parrots with destructive tendencies. The Sky High Cafe, located on the first floor, is a modestly priced (as ski areas go) cafeteria with a selection of traditional New Zealand fare such as meat pies, (about $1.15 US) potato wedges ($1.35), and quiches ($1.55). For about $3.65 or $2.65 US, depending upon the size, you can get a filling mountain meal of pasta shells, ham, quiche, coleslaw, leafy salad, and a vegetable mix.

Upstairs is the pricier Beaches Brasserie restaurant, the highest-altitude dining establishment in Australasia, with a lovely view of the slopes. Served buffet style, you get all you can eat for about $8 US (children $4.25).

The center for apres-ski activities is Methven, the nearest town from the field where farm animals easily outnumber residents and visitors. It is 16 miles below the tawny foothills of Mount Hutt in a canvas of sheep and cattle pastures (it is also 57 miles southwest of Christchurch, the nearest cosmopolitan city with an international airport). First staked by Robert Patten in 1869 and named after his hometown in Scotland, Methven is a quiet, picturesque village of rural New Zealand charm and is devoid of any ritzy pretense. Like many of New Zealand's small settlements, it consists of one main thoroughfare lined with clapboard, prefab buildings reminiscent of the Wild West days in the United States. And despite its reputation for being the sleepy sister of New Zealand's ski villages, there is a fierce spirit underneath.

Every Tuesday night, visitors cram themselves into Vee Tee's sports bar to watch on a big screen the weekly ski flicks of mountain activities (a 12-ounce beer is about $1.25 US). The Japanese in particular love these home-styled videos. Next to the bar is a family diner for a steak dinner (about $6 US). During the season's peak, a DJ entertains nightly, with Saturdays usually featuring a live band.

Down the street and around the corner is Lisah's BYO Italian bistro hosted by a single, tireless waitress. It is a small, snuggly, candlelit tavern decorated with colorful tapestries, and arguably serves the best food in town. Start out with a pesto and cheese bread for about $1.50 US followed by a garden salad for about $2.50 The main course is a choice of pasta dishes. My favorite was the tortellini bosciola mixed with mushrooms, bacon, shallots, and garlic sauteed in cream sauce (about $4.65 US small, $8.75 large). If you prefer meat, they serve New Zealand steak on a mountain of mash potatoes for about $8 US.

For a quick bite, Uncle Dominic's Pizza & Kebabs is New Zealand's version of the American deli. Their $2.60 chicken and donar (beef) kebab, dressed in yogurt, barbecue, and chili sauce wrapped and toasted in a pita, is a local favorite.

For drinks, Bill and I went to the popular Blue Pub, originally built by Patten in 1880, and swilled the locally brewed Canterbury Draught (about $2.75 US a jug -- 1 liter). With its cerulean blue exterior, it is the most noticeable building in town. Inside, the atmosphere is raunchy and rowdy, with tired skiers happily swapping stories and shooting pool. For a quieter and more relaxing evening, we went to the cocktail lounge at the Centerpoint Resort, where, with purchase of a drink (about $1.50 US for a 12-ounce glass), we were able to immerse our weary bodies into one of the three steaming hot pools outside the bar.

Since we were in Methven on an extended stay, we rented a room in a quaint cottage owned by the assistant director of the ski school. From the outside, the place resembled anoutsized cabana with a deck in the back for a view of the Mount Hutt mountain range across the fields. Adjacent to our yard, a small pen housed a solitary, white stallion. Our cottage had two double bedrooms and one single (all of which got chilly at night), a bathroom with ample hot water, and a reasonably spacious kitchen-living room area kept warm by a propane-fueled heater. There was also an extra toilet in a makeshift outhouse on the front veranda. Our rent was an affordable $47 US a week, plus utilities. Notices on available housing can be found at the information center and on the bulletin board by the supermarket.

For those on a shorter visit, there is a plethora of accommodations to choose from, which are as varied as New Zealand's abundant flora.

On our days off the slopes, we took advantage of the myriad subalpine walking/hiking tracks established in Canterbury's fertile environs. The most rewarding trip we experienced was the six-mile Rakaia Gorge Walkway that meandered along a sinuous ravine. A car, which we rented for about $15 a day from the information center in town, was required to reach the starting point. The entrance to the gorge, an idyllic 10-minute drive through the chiseled countryside, is off State Highway 72.

The tramp itself was a four-hour round-trip effort, which began through a shady grove pocked with sheep-dung alongside the pebbled riverbed. After a half-hour of easy going, the track lurched upward to the cliff tops, where it leveled out onto prickly gorse-strewn terraces dotted with yellow cohai flowers. There we arrived at the first lookout point, where we had a view of the hairpin path of the turquoise river. The track then continued along the bluffs through private farmland (where we found a pair of stray sheep straggling near the fence), and alternated in and out of thickets of mountain beech and cabbage trees and wide-open tussock fields.

Two sweaty hours later, we happily reached the Upper Gorge Lookout, our turnaround point. On the cliff walls hugging the coulee, we could see hardened rivulets of lava that had long ago spilled from the bowels of the now-dormant Mount Somers volcano. Out yonder was the Mount Hutt mountain range, from which Billy pointed out the backside of the Mount Hutt ski field. He retraced for me his off-boundary ski run down its chasm to the floor of the Rakaia Gorge.

``Wild stuff,'' I thought. That's skiing in New Zealand.

The season usually runs from the middle of May to the beginning of November, during which time they operate from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. (no night skiing). However, it is not uncommon for the mountain to close for the day due to high winds or poor road conditions. Their snow report number is 0900-99-766.

Day tickets run at about $25 US, but there are also two-, five-, and eight-day packages for about $75, $125, and $195 US, respectively. Children and students receive discounts. The rental department stocks the regular recreational kits as well as the latest performance equipment for those who want an upgrade. A full rental (boots, skis, and poles) costs about $15, while the performance gear goes for about $20 US. If you don't have ski pants or jackets, they can be hired for an additional $15 or so. Parents wishing to put miles on their skis can enter their children in the Skiwiland Creche (ages 2-6) or the Kea Club (7 to 16), where they will be pampered and instructed.

The information center, on Main Street, is open seven days a week from 7:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. and handles all bookings for accommodations, activities, tours, and inter-/intra-island travel (03-302-8955).

For an adventure on land, check out Planet Argo, next to the Southern Cross Hotel (800-274-6386). Argos are eight-wheeled, all-terrain, open-air vehicles that look like miniature jeeps. Planet Argo makes three to four trips a week to the Rakaia Gorge for a three hour, gut-jingling ride through fingered tributaries, up and down steep embankments, over sand dunes, through dense native bush, and across bottomless creeks. Cost is about $30 US a person and includes a snack.