Every year, someone asks me, “Whakapapa? It’s it just another skifield?” And every year, I laugh, because clearly, they’ve never been. Let me tell you what keeps me coming back—it’s not just the skiing, though that’s part of it. It’s the little quirks, the hidden runs, and the days that never go quite as planned, but always end with a grin.
Let’s start with Happy Valley. If you’re new to skiing, it’s like the ultimate practice ground. I remember taking my kids there on one of their first trips. We piled onto the elevator that takes you *down* into the valley (yes, it’s as weird as it sounds), and they spent the day figuring out how not to fall over. Meanwhile, I figured out how many flat whites you can drink in a day without vibrating off the bench.
The thing about Happy Valley is it’s perfect for beginners. It’s separate from the chaos of the main slopes, with its own café, ski rentals, and plenty of space to make mistakes without an audience. Even now, I’ll pop in for a lap if I’m feeling nostalgic—or if I’ve promised to teach a friend how to ski and need to avoid the steeper stuff.
But Whakapapa isn’t just for beginners. The real magic happens once you start exploring. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve ridden the Valley T-Bar, but it never gets old. There’s something about the hidden gullies and tucked-away runs that make you feel like you’ve stumbled onto a secret. And then there’s the Far West T-Bar—so far off the beaten track you almost need a map to find it.
One of my favourite things about Whakapapa is that it’s impossible to see everything in one go. Some of the best runs aren’t even visible from the main field. It’s like a treasure hunt, and every time I think I’ve covered it all, I find something new.
And then there’s the Sky Waka gondola. When they installed it, I’ll admit, I was skeptical. But now? It’s the first lift I head for. No more clunky old chairs or waiting in line forever. The gondola sweeps you up to the top in style, with views so good they could charge extra (please don’t take that as a suggestion, Whakapapa). Of course, weekends can still get busy. I’ve learned to get there early—otherwise, you’re the person standing in the line grumbling about all the other people who had the same idea.
On a blue-sky day, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Mount Ngauruhoe looms in the distance like something out of a movie (because it actually is, if you count *The Lord of the Rings*), and the snow feels perfect under your skis. Spring skiing is my personal favourite. The snow softens, the crowds thin out, and the vibe shifts from “serious skiing” to “let’s just enjoy the sunshine.” It’s the only time you’ll catch me skiing in a T-shirt, probably looking like a complete fool but having the time of my life.
The thing about Whakapapa is it’s not just a ski field. It’s a place full of character and charm, where every trip feels a little different. Sure, it has its quirks, but that’s part of what makes it special. Whether I’m cruising down a familiar run or finding a new one tucked away, it never gets old.
So, why Whakapapa? It’s simple—it’s the kind of place that makes you fall in love with skiing all over again. Maybe I’ll see you on the slopes, probably grinning like an idiot, because that’s what this place does to me.
