Monday, March 27, 2006
Spinning Yarn on the Kepler Track
Rode (aka... Mike)
"Mornin' Rode," I say as my old friend comes strolling up to the trailhead. I recognize that unmistakable bounce in his step 200m away.
"Hey Tim, what's up?"
"Not much man... ahhh.. hey, where's your stuff, Rode?"
"Stuff?"
"Your pack... I mean, your backpacking gear?"
"Oh... that stuff. I'm good"
"All I see is that frisbee in your hand."
Rode empties his pockets to reveal he has exactly: 3 sticks of gum, a handful of soybeans ("nature's miracle food" he claims), a ballpoint pen, 2 matches, a 6" square of aluminum foil, and a swiss army knife.
"What's all this?" I ask in dismay.
"It's everything I need," he replies nonchalantly.
"What are you? An Eagle Scout?"
"Yeah."
"Okay MacGyver... but I've got some extra food and my tent can fit two in a pinch."
My doubts are put to rest that night when Rode constructs his A-frame out of beech saplings lashed together with twine woven out of bark strips. With the crew all huddled around a roaring campfire he built (without either match), I ask Rode...
"Okay, but the frisbee?"
"It's a great plate... here," he says as he passes me the upsidedown disk, "try some of this... it's an omelet with baby fern buds, wild shrooms, some soybeans and Kea eggs..."
"Holy crap dude... this is really good!"
"It's not bad. I should've brought some salt. Oh... and I always have my disk with me... never know when you'll run into some ultimate players."
Weed (aka... WW III)
Sipping some hot chocolate at the Luxmore Hut, my reward after the first day of tramping, I look out the kitchen window and spy my buddy Weed sitting by himself down the hill. He's a pretty big guy, the type people often describe as a big teddy-bear.
I plop myself on a rock next to him... he's picking at the grass and watching the sun setting on Lake Te Anau below.
"Nice view, eh?" I say.
"Huh... what? Uh... yeah... beautiful."
"What's up bud?"
"Nothing..."
"Hey man, you're looking slim. You lost weight?"
"Really? You think so?"
"Yeah... you getting trim for the wedding?"
"Sort of.. yeah, I guess so," and with that we're both quiet for a minute.
"Wow... Marriage. That's so great Weed."
"Yeah, I'm really excited... scared shitless, but really happy too."
"Weed... I'm... I'm honored that you two asked me to conduct your wedding ceremony. Really..." and quiet once more.
"Tim?"
"Yeah Weed?"
"Can I ask a favor of you?"
I look my friend in the eye, "Anything Weed... just name it."
"Tim... will you get a haircut? I mean, before the wedding?"
"Oh... yeah... sure. Guess it's getting a bit unruly up there."
"Yeah... it's kind of... not a good look. And my parents are gonna be there."
Law Student Roommate (aka... evil landlord)
It's 8:15 of the third and final morning. Having slept through a rainless night of camping at Iris Burn, all of us are glad to be hoisting dry packs onto our backs.
With a hefty grunt, and a grimace to go along, LS-Roommate shoulders his pack.
"What's the matter LS-Roommate?" I ask.
"Nothin' Timmy. It's just this pack seems to get heavier every morning."
"No worries buddy... in 22km we'll be back in Te Anau where beer and burgers await!"
"Hey Timmy?" says Jay a minute later.
"Yeah dude."
"Do you think this hat's alright in New Zealand?" he asks pointing to his cowboy hat.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Well, I think it makes me stick out as an American, and..."
"Nah man, it's a good lookin' hat."
"Yeah... it is. Hey Timmy, did you know Lyle..."
"Let me guess... Lyle Lovett picked you out of the crowd 'cause of that hat."
"Yeah! Did I already tell you that story?"
"yesterday... and the day before. I was at that concert with you, remember?"
"Oh yeah... sorry man."
"No worries... but you're starting to sound like our buddy Dell.
Preschool Teacher Roommate
Back in town, unpacking at the hostel, PT-Roommate comes knocking on the dorm room that LS-Roommate and I are staying in.
"Where's LS-Roommie?" she asks.
"He's in the shower," I reply.
"Oh... that's perfect," she says with a huge grin across her freckled face.
"Hey.. what are you doin'?" I ask as she starts poking around in LS-Roommate's pack.
"Nothin... ahhh ha! Here we go," she says as she yanks a fuel bottle from the pack. "Oh... these are mine too," she continues as she pulls out a pair of sandals. "Can't forget my camera and extra batteries!"
"Holy crap... does LS-Roommate know all this stuff was in there?"
"Nope... been sneaking it in each morning," and with that she tosses her red hair, shoots me a mischievous grin, and skips on out of the room.
Natty
"What was that all about?" I ask Natty as I take a seat next to him on the beach at Broad Bay.
"What's what?" he blinks at me.
"I mean, you shoving Weed into Coal Creek back there."
"Ohhh... that. Well, Weed was screwing around and tore my sweat shirt, so I... yeah, that might have been a bit extreme."
"Well..."
"We're cool now," he says as he smiles and reveals the can of Keystone Light in his hand.
"Ka'Kah Kah! Kah!" comes a yell from behind as Weed comes bounding down the beach.
"Cheers Natty," he says as his own Keystone clinks against Natty's.
"You guys brought Keystone?" I ask with a look of disbelief.
"Weed did!" says Natty, "A 12-pack!"
"Redbull too!" Weed chimes in, "Redbull gives Weed wings!"
I shake my head and laugh as I take the beer Natty hands me.
"Cheers!"
Phil
Day-2 of our tramp and we're to be doing the glorious alpine crossing from Luxmore Hut to the Iris Burn campground. The tramping guide says that the second day is the "highlight of the track." The panoramic views are "awe inspiring!"
Well, mother nature conspired against us and we spend the entire day in the clouds, getting rained on, with panoramic views of everything within a 50m radius. All of us are a bit sullen as we trudge through the rain... all except Phil.
"Ooo, ooo... quiet guys. Look there... a mother and baby Takahe. It's one of New Zealand's endangered flightless birds. Notice the red bill and shield, the dark blue head and olive green back... wow! Just amazing. Isn't this fantastic?!?"
"Great Phil..." we all groan. For two days he's been giving us an oral dissertation of the native flora and fauna in Fiordland.
"Phil... how do you know all this crap?" I say... unknowingly, and unfairly, allowing my frustration with the weather enter my tone.
Phil doesn't even notice. He flashes me that boyish smile and replies, "Well, before I got my MBA and Masters in Computer Science, I double majored in botany and zoology."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Oh no... but that was years ago. I'm a bit rusty... not a real birder, you know?"
The kid's a genius...
Graham
"Hey Graham! What's new?" I ask, out of breath, as I catch up with my good friend He seems taller than his 6'5" as he strides down the trail. I'm taking 3 steps to his 1.
"Well, Yvette and I got married," he says, and somehow looks a bit older, a bit wiser than I remembered.
"Really?!? That's awesome Graham! Man, have I been away that long?"
"Thanks Tim... we're really happy."
"God, seems like everyone is getting married right now."
"How about you Tim?"
"What... about me?" I say with a look that is fright, surprise and sheepishness all at once.
"Well your blog posts are great, you know? The pictures, people and stories... but where's the romance? That's what your blog needs is some romance... something to spice it up a bit."
"Great.. thanks Graham."
"You're not holding back on us? Are ya buddy? Are ya? Giving us the edited version of your adventures, eh?"
"No Graham... I'm not."
"Oh... sooo... how about those Mariner's? Think they'll get some decent pitching this season?"
Jess (of Seattle fame)
"Mornin' Jess."
"Hellooo Timmy. Howww are you?"
I've always loved the way Jess talks. She has a whimsical sing-songy cadence to her speech that cracks me up.
"I'm good Jess. I think we're gonna stay her at the Luxmore Hut this morning. Wait out the rain and Maybe it'll clear by this afternoon."
"That's coool... I can work'on my book."
"Right on. What's this one about?"
"Welll... it's a children's book. It takes place in New Zealand. It's about a young Maori boy who befriends a flock of sheep in this valley. The sheep love the boy and follow him where ever he goes. The farmer who owns the sheep lets them go with he boy because he thinks they're no good... they don't produce any wool for him. Welll... the sheep, they start growing wool of gold for the little Maori boy, and the farmer, when he sees the sheep... well, he's just astonished. He wants the sheep back, but the... well I'm trying to figure out an ending. Should the sheep's wool turn to dust when the farmer steals them from the boy? Orrr... maybe the wool turns to thorny vines that scratch up the farmer? Or maybeee... the sheep refuse to leave the boy, because he treats them so well, and they scare the farmer off. What do you think?"
"Uh... uhhhh... I like the thorny vines."
"Yeah... I was leaning that way myself."
Ranna
"How'd you talk me into that craziness?" I ask my friend Ranna from the grassy spot where I collapsed moments earlier. Barefoot now, arms outstretched, I stare blankly at the blue expanse above. "My feet are killing me."
"Ahhh... you're fine Timmy. It's beautiful today... aren't you glad we were out enjoying it?"
"Even my eyes are tired. Ranna... if I'd known we were hiking 44km today, I would've just gone back to sleep."
"Well you did it! And I'm glad you came with me."
"Just leave me here.. I'm spent."
The 10 of us finished the third and final day of the Kepler Track yesterday. We all crashed into a hostel to get cleaned up and recoup. That night, my young and energetic friend Ranna caught the weather forecast for today. Upon seeing a sunny forecast, she proposed the following...
"Timmy! If we get up at 5:30 tomorrow, and leave by 6:30, we could day-hike all the way up to Mt. Luxmore, get the views we missed on our rainy Day-2, then be back here in the afternoon!"
Not thinking very rationally, I agreed to join her for the little "day hike".
Passed out now on the grassy lawn in front of the hostel, I roll over to Ranna and mumble, "I'm too old for this nonsense."
"Huh? Sorry I was day dreaming."
"Oh... nothing."
"Well alright Timmy... I'm gonna go for a cool-down jog before grabbing a shower! See ya!"
And with that she bounds off leaving me sprawled out like road-kill.
...
NOTE... this blogger apologizes for the ridiculously long and wordy post. Maybe next time I'll limit it to the first 3 comment writers who will be my imaginary hiking buddies on the next tramp.
"Mornin' Rode," I say as my old friend comes strolling up to the trailhead. I recognize that unmistakable bounce in his step 200m away.
"Hey Tim, what's up?"
"Not much man... ahhh.. hey, where's your stuff, Rode?"
"Stuff?"
"Your pack... I mean, your backpacking gear?"
"Oh... that stuff. I'm good"
"All I see is that frisbee in your hand."
Rode empties his pockets to reveal he has exactly: 3 sticks of gum, a handful of soybeans ("nature's miracle food" he claims), a ballpoint pen, 2 matches, a 6" square of aluminum foil, and a swiss army knife.
"What's all this?" I ask in dismay.
"It's everything I need," he replies nonchalantly.
"What are you? An Eagle Scout?"
"Yeah."
"Okay MacGyver... but I've got some extra food and my tent can fit two in a pinch."
My doubts are put to rest that night when Rode constructs his A-frame out of beech saplings lashed together with twine woven out of bark strips. With the crew all huddled around a roaring campfire he built (without either match), I ask Rode...
"Okay, but the frisbee?"
"It's a great plate... here," he says as he passes me the upsidedown disk, "try some of this... it's an omelet with baby fern buds, wild shrooms, some soybeans and Kea eggs..."
"Holy crap dude... this is really good!"
"It's not bad. I should've brought some salt. Oh... and I always have my disk with me... never know when you'll run into some ultimate players."
Weed (aka... WW III)
Sipping some hot chocolate at the Luxmore Hut, my reward after the first day of tramping, I look out the kitchen window and spy my buddy Weed sitting by himself down the hill. He's a pretty big guy, the type people often describe as a big teddy-bear.
I plop myself on a rock next to him... he's picking at the grass and watching the sun setting on Lake Te Anau below.
"Nice view, eh?" I say.
"Huh... what? Uh... yeah... beautiful."
"What's up bud?"
"Nothing..."
"Hey man, you're looking slim. You lost weight?"
"Really? You think so?"
"Yeah... you getting trim for the wedding?"
"Sort of.. yeah, I guess so," and with that we're both quiet for a minute.
"Wow... Marriage. That's so great Weed."
"Yeah, I'm really excited... scared shitless, but really happy too."
"Weed... I'm... I'm honored that you two asked me to conduct your wedding ceremony. Really..." and quiet once more.
"Tim?"
"Yeah Weed?"
"Can I ask a favor of you?"
I look my friend in the eye, "Anything Weed... just name it."
"Tim... will you get a haircut? I mean, before the wedding?"
"Oh... yeah... sure. Guess it's getting a bit unruly up there."
"Yeah... it's kind of... not a good look. And my parents are gonna be there."
Law Student Roommate (aka... evil landlord)
It's 8:15 of the third and final morning. Having slept through a rainless night of camping at Iris Burn, all of us are glad to be hoisting dry packs onto our backs.
With a hefty grunt, and a grimace to go along, LS-Roommate shoulders his pack.
"What's the matter LS-Roommate?" I ask.
"Nothin' Timmy. It's just this pack seems to get heavier every morning."
"No worries buddy... in 22km we'll be back in Te Anau where beer and burgers await!"
"Hey Timmy?" says Jay a minute later.
"Yeah dude."
"Do you think this hat's alright in New Zealand?" he asks pointing to his cowboy hat.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Well, I think it makes me stick out as an American, and..."
"Nah man, it's a good lookin' hat."
"Yeah... it is. Hey Timmy, did you know Lyle..."
"Let me guess... Lyle Lovett picked you out of the crowd 'cause of that hat."
"Yeah! Did I already tell you that story?"
"yesterday... and the day before. I was at that concert with you, remember?"
"Oh yeah... sorry man."
"No worries... but you're starting to sound like our buddy Dell.
Preschool Teacher Roommate
Back in town, unpacking at the hostel, PT-Roommate comes knocking on the dorm room that LS-Roommate and I are staying in.
"Where's LS-Roommie?" she asks.
"He's in the shower," I reply.
"Oh... that's perfect," she says with a huge grin across her freckled face.
"Hey.. what are you doin'?" I ask as she starts poking around in LS-Roommate's pack.
"Nothin... ahhh ha! Here we go," she says as she yanks a fuel bottle from the pack. "Oh... these are mine too," she continues as she pulls out a pair of sandals. "Can't forget my camera and extra batteries!"
"Holy crap... does LS-Roommate know all this stuff was in there?"
"Nope... been sneaking it in each morning," and with that she tosses her red hair, shoots me a mischievous grin, and skips on out of the room.
Natty
"What was that all about?" I ask Natty as I take a seat next to him on the beach at Broad Bay.
"What's what?" he blinks at me.
"I mean, you shoving Weed into Coal Creek back there."
"Ohhh... that. Well, Weed was screwing around and tore my sweat shirt, so I... yeah, that might have been a bit extreme."
"Well..."
"We're cool now," he says as he smiles and reveals the can of Keystone Light in his hand.
"Ka'Kah Kah! Kah!" comes a yell from behind as Weed comes bounding down the beach.
"Cheers Natty," he says as his own Keystone clinks against Natty's.
"You guys brought Keystone?" I ask with a look of disbelief.
"Weed did!" says Natty, "A 12-pack!"
"Redbull too!" Weed chimes in, "Redbull gives Weed wings!"
I shake my head and laugh as I take the beer Natty hands me.
"Cheers!"
Phil
Day-2 of our tramp and we're to be doing the glorious alpine crossing from Luxmore Hut to the Iris Burn campground. The tramping guide says that the second day is the "highlight of the track." The panoramic views are "awe inspiring!"
Well, mother nature conspired against us and we spend the entire day in the clouds, getting rained on, with panoramic views of everything within a 50m radius. All of us are a bit sullen as we trudge through the rain... all except Phil.
"Ooo, ooo... quiet guys. Look there... a mother and baby Takahe. It's one of New Zealand's endangered flightless birds. Notice the red bill and shield, the dark blue head and olive green back... wow! Just amazing. Isn't this fantastic?!?"
"Great Phil..." we all groan. For two days he's been giving us an oral dissertation of the native flora and fauna in Fiordland.
"Phil... how do you know all this crap?" I say... unknowingly, and unfairly, allowing my frustration with the weather enter my tone.
Phil doesn't even notice. He flashes me that boyish smile and replies, "Well, before I got my MBA and Masters in Computer Science, I double majored in botany and zoology."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Oh no... but that was years ago. I'm a bit rusty... not a real birder, you know?"
The kid's a genius...
Graham
"Hey Graham! What's new?" I ask, out of breath, as I catch up with my good friend He seems taller than his 6'5" as he strides down the trail. I'm taking 3 steps to his 1.
"Well, Yvette and I got married," he says, and somehow looks a bit older, a bit wiser than I remembered.
"Really?!? That's awesome Graham! Man, have I been away that long?"
"Thanks Tim... we're really happy."
"God, seems like everyone is getting married right now."
"How about you Tim?"
"What... about me?" I say with a look that is fright, surprise and sheepishness all at once.
"Well your blog posts are great, you know? The pictures, people and stories... but where's the romance? That's what your blog needs is some romance... something to spice it up a bit."
"Great.. thanks Graham."
"You're not holding back on us? Are ya buddy? Are ya? Giving us the edited version of your adventures, eh?"
"No Graham... I'm not."
"Oh... sooo... how about those Mariner's? Think they'll get some decent pitching this season?"
Jess (of Seattle fame)
"Mornin' Jess."
"Hellooo Timmy. Howww are you?"
I've always loved the way Jess talks. She has a whimsical sing-songy cadence to her speech that cracks me up.
"I'm good Jess. I think we're gonna stay her at the Luxmore Hut this morning. Wait out the rain and Maybe it'll clear by this afternoon."
"That's coool... I can work'on my book."
"Right on. What's this one about?"
"Welll... it's a children's book. It takes place in New Zealand. It's about a young Maori boy who befriends a flock of sheep in this valley. The sheep love the boy and follow him where ever he goes. The farmer who owns the sheep lets them go with he boy because he thinks they're no good... they don't produce any wool for him. Welll... the sheep, they start growing wool of gold for the little Maori boy, and the farmer, when he sees the sheep... well, he's just astonished. He wants the sheep back, but the... well I'm trying to figure out an ending. Should the sheep's wool turn to dust when the farmer steals them from the boy? Orrr... maybe the wool turns to thorny vines that scratch up the farmer? Or maybeee... the sheep refuse to leave the boy, because he treats them so well, and they scare the farmer off. What do you think?"
"Uh... uhhhh... I like the thorny vines."
"Yeah... I was leaning that way myself."
Ranna
"How'd you talk me into that craziness?" I ask my friend Ranna from the grassy spot where I collapsed moments earlier. Barefoot now, arms outstretched, I stare blankly at the blue expanse above. "My feet are killing me."
"Ahhh... you're fine Timmy. It's beautiful today... aren't you glad we were out enjoying it?"
"Even my eyes are tired. Ranna... if I'd known we were hiking 44km today, I would've just gone back to sleep."
"Well you did it! And I'm glad you came with me."
"Just leave me here.. I'm spent."
The 10 of us finished the third and final day of the Kepler Track yesterday. We all crashed into a hostel to get cleaned up and recoup. That night, my young and energetic friend Ranna caught the weather forecast for today. Upon seeing a sunny forecast, she proposed the following...
"Timmy! If we get up at 5:30 tomorrow, and leave by 6:30, we could day-hike all the way up to Mt. Luxmore, get the views we missed on our rainy Day-2, then be back here in the afternoon!"
Not thinking very rationally, I agreed to join her for the little "day hike".
Passed out now on the grassy lawn in front of the hostel, I roll over to Ranna and mumble, "I'm too old for this nonsense."
"Huh? Sorry I was day dreaming."
"Oh... nothing."
"Well alright Timmy... I'm gonna go for a cool-down jog before grabbing a shower! See ya!"
And with that she bounds off leaving me sprawled out like road-kill.
...
NOTE... this blogger apologizes for the ridiculously long and wordy post. Maybe next time I'll limit it to the first 3 comment writers who will be my imaginary hiking buddies on the next tramp.
Antarctica... who wants some?
The annual job fair is just around the corner... April 7th in Centennial, CO (just outside Denver). If you're curious, or just in the area... why not check it out?
http://www.rayjobs.com/index.cfm?NavID=27
There are other regional job fairs, but this one is the biggie. I have basically no clout, and really can't do too much name-dropping. BUT... if you're going check it out, let me know. I can at least give you some beta on the departments and supervisors to talk to.
Why not, right? No commitments to just check it out.
http://www.rayjobs.com/index.cfm?NavID=27
There are other regional job fairs, but this one is the biggie. I have basically no clout, and really can't do too much name-dropping. BUT... if you're going check it out, let me know. I can at least give you some beta on the departments and supervisors to talk to.
Why not, right? No commitments to just check it out.
Daily Vocab
today's word is...
Eargasm - the amazing sensation of a good Q-tipping after days (even weeks) without.
brought to you by Edith.
Eargasm - the amazing sensation of a good Q-tipping after days (even weeks) without.
brought to you by Edith.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
And you think you know someone...
...especially if that someone is yourself!
Showered today for the first time in... ummm... 6 days? Standing in front of the mirror I notice something on my shoulder... kind of near the base of my neck.
Is that? Nooo... it IS! Hair! Two of them... and not that peach fuzzy stuff. Proper black hair!
Oh no... is this how it starts? Will it get worse? Am I... [gulp]... going to be like my high school gym teacher? I shudder at the thought of Mr. Christie's back hair poking out and even through his T-shirts. Ugh!
Does Dad have back hair? Shit... can't remember. Wait... or is it your mother's father that has to...? No... that's balding, stupid.
Better take care of this right now.
And with two quick pulls, my back is hairless once more... for now.
Showered today for the first time in... ummm... 6 days? Standing in front of the mirror I notice something on my shoulder... kind of near the base of my neck.
Is that? Nooo... it IS! Hair! Two of them... and not that peach fuzzy stuff. Proper black hair!
Oh no... is this how it starts? Will it get worse? Am I... [gulp]... going to be like my high school gym teacher? I shudder at the thought of Mr. Christie's back hair poking out and even through his T-shirts. Ugh!
Does Dad have back hair? Shit... can't remember. Wait... or is it your mother's father that has to...? No... that's balding, stupid.
Better take care of this right now.
And with two quick pulls, my back is hairless once more... for now.
3+ Days on the Kepler Track
highlights include...
Day 1:
- Breaking through the tree line. Sweeping views of Late Te Anau and Manapouri below.
- Exploring the Luxmore caves (full on stalactites and stalagmites!) with Wannes (sounds like Wallace with an 'n') the Belgian and Martin the German.
- Playing cards into the wee-hours at the Luxmore Hut.
Day 2:
- That's a tough one. Totally socked in all day... no views and rain. I suppose it's good that I never fell, and it was nice that it stopped raining when I reached the campsite at Iris Burn. What can I say... I've been spoiled so far with mostly fine weather.
Day 3:
- Clouds part and sun filters through beech forrest.
- Forrest seems to ooze greenness... mosses and ferns cover everything.
Day 3b:
- Up before dawn to tackle a day hike to Mt. Luxmore (do over of Day 2).
- Hike into and through the cloud layer that hovers over the lakes of Te Anau and Manapouri.
- Rewarded with spectacular panoramic views as the low clouds melt away to reveal Lake Te Anau.
- Reunite with my friend and hiking buddy Edith back at the Holiday Park! (Holiday Parks are like RV Parks in town, where you can get cheap campsites and have cooking, showering and laundering facilities)
PICS: (top to bottom): Moss covered beech forrest on Day-3, Clouds recede off Lake Te Anau with the winding trail to Mt. Luxmore in the foreground (Day 3b).
If I were a car...
Right now, I'd be one of those gas-guzzling SUV's. My metabolism is going crazy with all this tramping... a bottomless pit I am. Maybe I'm going through a growth spurt... at 26? Riiight.
Coming off the Kepler Track I...
...went to Tip-Top Dairy and got a double-scoop of ice cream: Hokey Pokey and Triple Chocolate Chunk.
...finished the double-scoop and went back for another scoop of Triple Chocolate Chunk.
...got a burger, chips (fries), and Pint of beer at the Ranch Bar & Grill.
...ordered a second Pint.
...ordered another side of fries (with extra tomato sauce).
...went and bought groceries (never food shop on an empty stomach, right?)
...ordered a coffee and cookie at a coffee shop. Mostly so I'd have a place to sit down and organize my groceries into my pack.
...while organizing groceries, ate the 3 Yoplait yogurts I'd planned to have for breakfast the next morning.
I have no self-control! Should've budgeted more money for food.
Coming off the Kepler Track I...
...went to Tip-Top Dairy and got a double-scoop of ice cream: Hokey Pokey and Triple Chocolate Chunk.
...finished the double-scoop and went back for another scoop of Triple Chocolate Chunk.
...got a burger, chips (fries), and Pint of beer at the Ranch Bar & Grill.
...ordered a second Pint.
...ordered another side of fries (with extra tomato sauce).
...went and bought groceries (never food shop on an empty stomach, right?)
...ordered a coffee and cookie at a coffee shop. Mostly so I'd have a place to sit down and organize my groceries into my pack.
...while organizing groceries, ate the 3 Yoplait yogurts I'd planned to have for breakfast the next morning.
I have no self-control! Should've budgeted more money for food.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
The marbles in my head
7.5 hours of hiking alone gives one's mind a lot of time to race. The crazy ideas bouncing around in my head on the Routeburn Track...
...must delay my flight from Christchurch to Auckland by a couple of days. Need to make time to check out Dunedin and the grad schools at University of Otago.
...hike the PCT next summer? Hmmm...
...wonder where EJ is right now. Crazy girl.
...there really is no word that rhymes with orange.
...I should learn to play the harp (harmonica) this summer. Maybe my buddy Weddell would give me some lessons.
...pizza or a burger in Te Anau? Probably burger.
...can't think of the words to "You Can't Resist it"? Will I be back in Seattle in time to catch Lyle Lovett on the Pier?
...how the hell does one go about getting ordained online? Were those two serious?
...I wonder if mom can teach me to use a sewing machine this summer?
...at this pace I'll finish at 5:30. Shit... that's going to be a tough hitch.
...must delay my flight from Christchurch to Auckland by a couple of days. Need to make time to check out Dunedin and the grad schools at University of Otago.
...hike the PCT next summer? Hmmm...
...wonder where EJ is right now. Crazy girl.
...there really is no word that rhymes with orange.
...I should learn to play the harp (harmonica) this summer. Maybe my buddy Weddell would give me some lessons.
...pizza or a burger in Te Anau? Probably burger.
...can't think of the words to "You Can't Resist it"? Will I be back in Seattle in time to catch Lyle Lovett on the Pier?
...how the hell does one go about getting ordained online? Were those two serious?
...I wonder if mom can teach me to use a sewing machine this summer?
...at this pace I'll finish at 5:30. Shit... that's going to be a tough hitch.
A day on the Routeburn
Inspired by my buddy Delaney, who had accomplished the feat a couple of weeks ago, I decided to hike the 32km Routeburn Track in a day.
The idea was also spurred on by...
1). The fact that none of the huts or camp sites had space available.
2). The sunny forecast for the day.
3). The prospect of saving $ and reaching the Fiordland area a day earlier.
One of the "Great Walks" of New Zealand, it certainly was beautiful, but no Cascade Saddle.
PICS: (top to bottom) Routeburn Flats with Mt.Earnslaw looming in the background, the Hollyford Valley, trampers skirting Lake Harris.
The idea was also spurred on by...
1). The fact that none of the huts or camp sites had space available.
2). The sunny forecast for the day.
3). The prospect of saving $ and reaching the Fiordland area a day earlier.
One of the "Great Walks" of New Zealand, it certainly was beautiful, but no Cascade Saddle.
PICS: (top to bottom) Routeburn Flats with Mt.Earnslaw looming in the background, the Hollyford Valley, trampers skirting Lake Harris.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Cheryl and Ken and Paul
"My son is an engineer too. He works in Switzerland now, for one of those telecommunications companies. He's 29 and quite an adventure himself. Paul... that's his name."
Adventurer? I think to myself as I listen to Cheryl's shoft-spoken voice. That's certainly not me.
"You should tell him about the phone call from Syria," Ken says as he pats Cheryl's hand on the table.
The three of us are enjoying our well earned dinners, the two of them sitting across from me. I met Cheryl and Ken briefly, as I passed them on the trail in route to the Daley Flat Hut. They smile frequently. The smiles are ageless, but the smile lines at the corners of their eyes have me guessing, 'late-50's?'
Cheryl has short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. She's quite thin, and her movements have a gracefulness that makes her seem fragile, but also there's a self-assuredness that makes her seem incredibly resilient. She's a beautiful person, and must have been a knock-out in her youth. Positive, curious and really sharp... I like her immediately.
Ken is tall and fit, with a full head of snow-white hair. A handsome fellow, he has a well groomed and deliberate manner that seems fitting of someone who is a draftsman by trade. His kindness and soft-spoken manner reminds me of my good friend Ainge's father. Needless to say, I like Ken too.
Cheryl obliges Ken with the story, "It was New Year's and I received a call from Paul... to wish me a happy New Year. Oh dear... I should apologize. I have this lisp, you see, because I chipped my tooth the other day..."
I noticed Cheryl's chipped front tooth on the trail, and loved the fact that it was hours into our meeting before she felt compelled to explain it. My own self-consciousness would've had me explaining a chipped tooth just after the part where I said, "My name's Tim, nice to meet you." Cheryl never once hid the gap in her smile.
"...where was I? Oh, so it's a number of months later and Paul was here in New Zealand for a visit. He picked up a copy of a North & South magazine I had laying around and said to me, pointing to an article about Iraq, 'Hey, this is about me.' As it turns out, when he called on New Year's, Paul was actually phoning from a satellite-phone he'd borrowed from a journalist friend he'd met while in Iraq... the journalist writing the article for North & South. Paul had crossed the border under the guise of a UN worker. Gosh... sometimes I wonder about him."
"That's how he spent his Christmas and New Year's holiday?" I ask.
"I think he was just curious as to what it was like in Iraq. He's always getting in crazy adventures like that. I think it's just that age."
No, I think, I'm no adventurer. But, it is certainly inspiring to know that there are still people like Paul out here traveling.
Adventurer? I think to myself as I listen to Cheryl's shoft-spoken voice. That's certainly not me.
"You should tell him about the phone call from Syria," Ken says as he pats Cheryl's hand on the table.
The three of us are enjoying our well earned dinners, the two of them sitting across from me. I met Cheryl and Ken briefly, as I passed them on the trail in route to the Daley Flat Hut. They smile frequently. The smiles are ageless, but the smile lines at the corners of their eyes have me guessing, 'late-50's?'
Cheryl has short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. She's quite thin, and her movements have a gracefulness that makes her seem fragile, but also there's a self-assuredness that makes her seem incredibly resilient. She's a beautiful person, and must have been a knock-out in her youth. Positive, curious and really sharp... I like her immediately.
Ken is tall and fit, with a full head of snow-white hair. A handsome fellow, he has a well groomed and deliberate manner that seems fitting of someone who is a draftsman by trade. His kindness and soft-spoken manner reminds me of my good friend Ainge's father. Needless to say, I like Ken too.
Cheryl obliges Ken with the story, "It was New Year's and I received a call from Paul... to wish me a happy New Year. Oh dear... I should apologize. I have this lisp, you see, because I chipped my tooth the other day..."
I noticed Cheryl's chipped front tooth on the trail, and loved the fact that it was hours into our meeting before she felt compelled to explain it. My own self-consciousness would've had me explaining a chipped tooth just after the part where I said, "My name's Tim, nice to meet you." Cheryl never once hid the gap in her smile.
"...where was I? Oh, so it's a number of months later and Paul was here in New Zealand for a visit. He picked up a copy of a North & South magazine I had laying around and said to me, pointing to an article about Iraq, 'Hey, this is about me.' As it turns out, when he called on New Year's, Paul was actually phoning from a satellite-phone he'd borrowed from a journalist friend he'd met while in Iraq... the journalist writing the article for North & South. Paul had crossed the border under the guise of a UN worker. Gosh... sometimes I wonder about him."
"That's how he spent his Christmas and New Year's holiday?" I ask.
"I think he was just curious as to what it was like in Iraq. He's always getting in crazy adventures like that. I think it's just that age."
No, I think, I'm no adventurer. But, it is certainly inspiring to know that there are still people like Paul out here traveling.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Cascade Saddle - Part 1 of 3
As my old pal Delaney might say...
"Ohhh... stop it! New Zealand... really... you're making me blush... it's too much! Just stop... seriously!"
The Cascade Saddle - Dart Valley tramp was so absurdly spectacular, I'm breaking it up into 3 posts.
Day 1: 20km (12.4mi)
...gradual approach up the open pastures of the Matukituki River valley. Cows graze, unaware of the beautiful snow-capped peaks around them.
...relentless climb toward Cascade Saddle - gaining roughly 4,700ft in 2.5 miles! Frequent breaks to wipe away sweat, catch my breath, regain feeling in the legs, and gawk at the valley below.
...lose myself (figuratively) in the photogenic alpine meadows approaching the Saddle.
...pitch my tent on a glacial bench overlooking the Dart Glacier. Have the camp site all to myself.
...realize I saw only 1 other person on the trail all day... the best kind of solitude.
... get some company from a kea (large alpine parrot) while cooking dinner.
PICS: (top to bottom) Matukituki River Valley, the upper valley from Aspiring Hut, view down the Matukituki Valley from the Saddle, trail through alpine meadow, my little tent in front of the Dart Glacier, Kea x2, me cooking dinner.
"Ohhh... stop it! New Zealand... really... you're making me blush... it's too much! Just stop... seriously!"
The Cascade Saddle - Dart Valley tramp was so absurdly spectacular, I'm breaking it up into 3 posts.
Day 1: 20km (12.4mi)
...gradual approach up the open pastures of the Matukituki River valley. Cows graze, unaware of the beautiful snow-capped peaks around them.
...relentless climb toward Cascade Saddle - gaining roughly 4,700ft in 2.5 miles! Frequent breaks to wipe away sweat, catch my breath, regain feeling in the legs, and gawk at the valley below.
...lose myself (figuratively) in the photogenic alpine meadows approaching the Saddle.
...pitch my tent on a glacial bench overlooking the Dart Glacier. Have the camp site all to myself.
...realize I saw only 1 other person on the trail all day... the best kind of solitude.
... get some company from a kea (large alpine parrot) while cooking dinner.
PICS: (top to bottom) Matukituki River Valley, the upper valley from Aspiring Hut, view down the Matukituki Valley from the Saddle, trail through alpine meadow, my little tent in front of the Dart Glacier, Kea x2, me cooking dinner.
Cascade Saddle - Part 2 of 3
As Cooler-Than-He-Knows-Brother might say...
"Woh, shit! This is, like, the most rain I've ever seen. Those creeks are crazy... why's the water so grey? Are we gonna cross them? Yeah, we are?... Kick Ass!"
Day 2: 25.5km (15.8mi)
...woken up at 9:30 by sasquatch trying to shake down my tent. Thank God I properly guyed out my little tent. Find out later that the winds at the Saddle were 80kmph (~50mph!).
...woken up at 10:30 by torrential rains... sounds like TV static with the volume all the way up. Fall back asleep feeling proud of my little tent.
...woken up at 1:30 by nature's call. Still dumping outside so I pee in a ziplok bag. Not trusting the bag's integrity, I deposit it a hand's length outside the tent. Sleep well the rest of the night.
...cook my muesli and make my coffee in the safe confines of the tent. Don't brave the outside until the boots are laced up and the pack is fully loaded.
...hike 6hrs in the rain and love every minute. The rain and mist give the Dart Valley a depth and moodiness that forces me to risk water damage to my camera.
...ford 5 creeks as I descend the valley... knee deep in raging, opaque, silty run-off.
...spot Daley Flat Hut across a grassy flat, and smile broadly as I notice smoke rising from the hut. Someone's already started the coal burning stove... warmth!
...treated to Cheryl and Ken's company... more great Kiwi's.
PICS: (top to bottom) The Dart Glacier at the top of the Dart Valley, Looking down the rainy Dart Valley, Countless waterfalls pour down the valley walls, A view back up to Cascade Saddle.
"Woh, shit! This is, like, the most rain I've ever seen. Those creeks are crazy... why's the water so grey? Are we gonna cross them? Yeah, we are?... Kick Ass!"
Day 2: 25.5km (15.8mi)
...woken up at 9:30 by sasquatch trying to shake down my tent. Thank God I properly guyed out my little tent. Find out later that the winds at the Saddle were 80kmph (~50mph!).
...woken up at 10:30 by torrential rains... sounds like TV static with the volume all the way up. Fall back asleep feeling proud of my little tent.
...woken up at 1:30 by nature's call. Still dumping outside so I pee in a ziplok bag. Not trusting the bag's integrity, I deposit it a hand's length outside the tent. Sleep well the rest of the night.
...cook my muesli and make my coffee in the safe confines of the tent. Don't brave the outside until the boots are laced up and the pack is fully loaded.
...hike 6hrs in the rain and love every minute. The rain and mist give the Dart Valley a depth and moodiness that forces me to risk water damage to my camera.
...ford 5 creeks as I descend the valley... knee deep in raging, opaque, silty run-off.
...spot Daley Flat Hut across a grassy flat, and smile broadly as I notice smoke rising from the hut. Someone's already started the coal burning stove... warmth!
...treated to Cheryl and Ken's company... more great Kiwi's.
PICS: (top to bottom) The Dart Glacier at the top of the Dart Valley, Looking down the rainy Dart Valley, Countless waterfalls pour down the valley walls, A view back up to Cascade Saddle.
Cascade Saddle - Part 3 of 3
As Confucius says...
"Sunshine makes everything better... or something."
Day 3: 16km (9.9mi)
...day light savings has me miss sunrise. Wake to find blue skies and mist lifting from the grassy flats outside the hut.
...easy roling tramp along the Dart River.
...catch up w/Cheryl and Ken at Sandy Flats... exchange contact info... thinking I'll pay them a visit when I hit the North Island.
...Score a hitch to Glenorchy from an elderly American couple who've been living in NZ since the late 70's. Hmm...
PICS: (top to bottom) Mist rising off Daley Flats, Looking up the Dart Valley from Chinaman's Flats, Mouth of the Dart River at Glenorchy.
"Sunshine makes everything better... or something."
Day 3: 16km (9.9mi)
...day light savings has me miss sunrise. Wake to find blue skies and mist lifting from the grassy flats outside the hut.
...easy roling tramp along the Dart River.
...catch up w/Cheryl and Ken at Sandy Flats... exchange contact info... thinking I'll pay them a visit when I hit the North Island.
...Score a hitch to Glenorchy from an elderly American couple who've been living in NZ since the late 70's. Hmm...
PICS: (top to bottom) Mist rising off Daley Flats, Looking up the Dart Valley from Chinaman's Flats, Mouth of the Dart River at Glenorchy.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Best Hitch Yet
The trailhead for the Copland Track is right off SH6, 24km South of the nearest town of Fox Glacier. I come off the track soaked through with sweat at 1:30, and already I am concerned I won't land a hitch to Wanaka - some 4 hours South. The sand flies are overwhelming at the trailhead, and I'm forced to pace in a small circle at the side of the road to keep the buggers from eating me alive. The occasional car zooms by at 100km/hr, but no one is taking a second look at me with my thumb out. I'm not an attractive hitch to say the least. I must look crazy... walking in circles, swatting at flies, and itching nervously at my exposed wrists and knees.
2:30 comes and goes, and I drop my pack on the ground. I hate taking off my pack when trying to hitch... it's stupid, really, but to me it's like resigning to the fact that I'm going to be there for a while... it's superstitious B.S., but whatever.
3:00 is nearing and I feel like I am going crazy. It's like the sand flies have conspired with the South bound drivers to test my will and mental resolve.
And then, just like that, I'm saved. Bill and Diana, an Australian couple in their 60's, take pity on this crazy kid on the side of the highway. We barely exchange names before Bill realizes the sand fly ordeal I was involved in. "Get in! Get in!" He says as he shoves my pack in the back seat. "Come on lad! Let's get outta here!"
They take me all the way to Wanaka.
Bill is thin, spectacled, kind of goofy looking, but his eyes suggest a great deal of wisdom and wit. Diana is small and slight, with short reddish hair, and eyes just as brilliant as her husband's. The three of us spend the next 2 minutes silently squashing the dozens of sand flies that followed us into the small Toyota.
The two of them have very peculiar Aussie accents... more polished and almost British. This makes some sense when I learn that Bill works for the Australian foreign service, and has been posted in DC, Canada, Israel, Morocco, the UK, and Ghana during his 30 years of service. They raised 3 sons overseas... the eldest is acting in London, the middle-one (26... same as me) is attending grad school in Tennessee at Vanderbilt, and the youngest teaches back in Australia.
4 hours of conversation is effortless, and the topics swing from global politics, to Antarctica, to the uncertainties their sons feel in what they're doing, to the same uncertainties I feel. Perhaps it's that they feel they're getting an insider's perspective on their sons' generation, or maybe they are fondly recalling their own years of youthful discovery... whatever the case, the caring and interest they share makes me feel like I'm riding in the back seat of my own parents' car.
They share a bag of apples (I eat three) and we exchange tramping stories. Even in their 60's they are out on the trails. They convince me I need to do the Queen Charlotte Track when I return to NZ, and I sell them on a visit to Arthur's Pass.
At one point I say, "Diana... I think it's great that you're the one driving."
"Pardon?" she replies.
"I was just having a conversation with a friend the other day about how it's always the guy driving. Even if it's the lady's car, it's always the man driving. I love that you're the one at the wheel."
Diana smiles at me in the rearview and says, "You're right Tim. The blokes always do seem to be driving, don't they? I never really thought about it."
"Well, I think it's great," I say and smile back.
"Honestly, Bill gets a bit sleepy when he drives, so we take turns. Also, he can read while riding in the car and I get car sick when I read..."
"Me too!" I chime in.
"...and I quite enjoy driving. Also, Bill drives a bit slow in my opinion." With that Diana smiles and shoots Bill a sideways glance to see if he's even listening.
Bill lifts his eyes from the map he's intent on, smiles at Diana, then pats her on the thigh and says, "shift dear, shift."
"Oh, but I like that gear," she says as she shifts from 3rd to 4th.
2:30 comes and goes, and I drop my pack on the ground. I hate taking off my pack when trying to hitch... it's stupid, really, but to me it's like resigning to the fact that I'm going to be there for a while... it's superstitious B.S., but whatever.
3:00 is nearing and I feel like I am going crazy. It's like the sand flies have conspired with the South bound drivers to test my will and mental resolve.
And then, just like that, I'm saved. Bill and Diana, an Australian couple in their 60's, take pity on this crazy kid on the side of the highway. We barely exchange names before Bill realizes the sand fly ordeal I was involved in. "Get in! Get in!" He says as he shoves my pack in the back seat. "Come on lad! Let's get outta here!"
They take me all the way to Wanaka.
Bill is thin, spectacled, kind of goofy looking, but his eyes suggest a great deal of wisdom and wit. Diana is small and slight, with short reddish hair, and eyes just as brilliant as her husband's. The three of us spend the next 2 minutes silently squashing the dozens of sand flies that followed us into the small Toyota.
The two of them have very peculiar Aussie accents... more polished and almost British. This makes some sense when I learn that Bill works for the Australian foreign service, and has been posted in DC, Canada, Israel, Morocco, the UK, and Ghana during his 30 years of service. They raised 3 sons overseas... the eldest is acting in London, the middle-one (26... same as me) is attending grad school in Tennessee at Vanderbilt, and the youngest teaches back in Australia.
4 hours of conversation is effortless, and the topics swing from global politics, to Antarctica, to the uncertainties their sons feel in what they're doing, to the same uncertainties I feel. Perhaps it's that they feel they're getting an insider's perspective on their sons' generation, or maybe they are fondly recalling their own years of youthful discovery... whatever the case, the caring and interest they share makes me feel like I'm riding in the back seat of my own parents' car.
They share a bag of apples (I eat three) and we exchange tramping stories. Even in their 60's they are out on the trails. They convince me I need to do the Queen Charlotte Track when I return to NZ, and I sell them on a visit to Arthur's Pass.
At one point I say, "Diana... I think it's great that you're the one driving."
"Pardon?" she replies.
"I was just having a conversation with a friend the other day about how it's always the guy driving. Even if it's the lady's car, it's always the man driving. I love that you're the one at the wheel."
Diana smiles at me in the rearview and says, "You're right Tim. The blokes always do seem to be driving, don't they? I never really thought about it."
"Well, I think it's great," I say and smile back.
"Honestly, Bill gets a bit sleepy when he drives, so we take turns. Also, he can read while riding in the car and I get car sick when I read..."
"Me too!" I chime in.
"...and I quite enjoy driving. Also, Bill drives a bit slow in my opinion." With that Diana smiles and shoots Bill a sideways glance to see if he's even listening.
Bill lifts his eyes from the map he's intent on, smiles at Diana, then pats her on the thigh and says, "shift dear, shift."
"Oh, but I like that gear," she says as she shifts from 3rd to 4th.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
"Pretty Sweet, Eh?"
"How a'boot some more wine?"
"Absolutely... thanks man," I say as I float my titanium backpacking bowl over to Dan the Cannuck.
Sitting in a hotspring with Dan, Niko the German Junior Weight Lifting Champ, and Terri the American DOC Hut Warden... darkness falls and with it, the sandflies disappear for the evening.
It's raining, but the light of the full moon is bright enough to penetrate the cloud cover. Sipping the red wine that Dan lugged 10miles up the Copland Track, I enjoy one of the best finishes to a day that I've spent in New Zealand.
"Absolutely... thanks man," I say as I float my titanium backpacking bowl over to Dan the Cannuck.
Sitting in a hotspring with Dan, Niko the German Junior Weight Lifting Champ, and Terri the American DOC Hut Warden... darkness falls and with it, the sandflies disappear for the evening.
It's raining, but the light of the full moon is bright enough to penetrate the cloud cover. Sipping the red wine that Dan lugged 10miles up the Copland Track, I enjoy one of the best finishes to a day that I've spent in New Zealand.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
It's not much, but it's home for now...
Things to do when you're bored, socked-in by foul weather in Wanaka, and waiting to start 3 days on the Cascade Saddle Route...
Inventory all your belongings... of course! In case anyone is curious... this is me for 3.5 months...
- 40L (2,400 cubic inch) pack w/plastic garbage bag liner
- Single-wall 4-season tent (small, but light)
- Closed-cell foam sleep-pad (2/3 length... the empty pack goes under my legs)
- 5ft x 8ft sil-nylon tarp (emergency shelter and ground cloth)
- 20deg-F sleeping bag
- Whisperlite stove and one 375ml fuel bottle.
- Stove repair kit.
- 1 Liter aluminum pot w/lid.
- 1 Liter Nalgene water bottle.
- Plastic spoon.
- Small titanium bowl.
- Trekking poles.
- Hiking boots.
- Chaco Sandals.
- Flip-flops.
- 2 pair wool socks.
- 2 pair liner socks.
- 3 pair poly-pro boxers.
- 1 pair nylon shorts.
- 1 pair light weight nylon pants.
- 1 pair long underwear.
- 2 poly-pro t-shirts
- 1 poly-pro long sleeve shirt
- 1 precious cotton t-shirt (town wear... cotton is so nice)
- Light raincoat.
- Primaloft jacket w/stuff sack (a great pillow at night)
- Wool hat.
- Goofy looking sun hat.
- Sunglasses (thanks Jess!)
- Gortex Gators.
- Stuff sack o' food... (see "That's Good Eatin'" below)
- Mesh bag o' toiletries (sans deodorant... why bother?)
- Pack Towel.
- Small Tube insect repellent.
- Compass.
- Matches and lighter.
- Iodine tablets (for water treatment).
- Multi-vitamins.
- Permanent Marker (for hitching signs).
- LED headlamp.
- Small bottle of sunscreen.
- Tool Kit (leatherman, nylon cord, zip-ties, duct-tape, seam-grip)
- First aid items.
- Toilet paper.
- Digital camera (luxury item)
- i-pod (luxury item)
- Journal (luxury item)
- Tramping New Zealand guide book.
- Address book.
- Travel Wallet (ID, passport, credit cards, $, etc...)
Good God... seems like a lot of stuff when it's in a list. I love lists.
Inventory all your belongings... of course! In case anyone is curious... this is me for 3.5 months...
- 40L (2,400 cubic inch) pack w/plastic garbage bag liner
- Single-wall 4-season tent (small, but light)
- Closed-cell foam sleep-pad (2/3 length... the empty pack goes under my legs)
- 5ft x 8ft sil-nylon tarp (emergency shelter and ground cloth)
- 20deg-F sleeping bag
- Whisperlite stove and one 375ml fuel bottle.
- Stove repair kit.
- 1 Liter aluminum pot w/lid.
- 1 Liter Nalgene water bottle.
- Plastic spoon.
- Small titanium bowl.
- Trekking poles.
- Hiking boots.
- Chaco Sandals.
- Flip-flops.
- 2 pair wool socks.
- 2 pair liner socks.
- 3 pair poly-pro boxers.
- 1 pair nylon shorts.
- 1 pair light weight nylon pants.
- 1 pair long underwear.
- 2 poly-pro t-shirts
- 1 poly-pro long sleeve shirt
- 1 precious cotton t-shirt (town wear... cotton is so nice)
- Light raincoat.
- Primaloft jacket w/stuff sack (a great pillow at night)
- Wool hat.
- Goofy looking sun hat.
- Sunglasses (thanks Jess!)
- Gortex Gators.
- Stuff sack o' food... (see "That's Good Eatin'" below)
- Mesh bag o' toiletries (sans deodorant... why bother?)
- Pack Towel.
- Small Tube insect repellent.
- Compass.
- Matches and lighter.
- Iodine tablets (for water treatment).
- Multi-vitamins.
- Permanent Marker (for hitching signs).
- LED headlamp.
- Small bottle of sunscreen.
- Tool Kit (leatherman, nylon cord, zip-ties, duct-tape, seam-grip)
- First aid items.
- Toilet paper.
- Digital camera (luxury item)
- i-pod (luxury item)
- Journal (luxury item)
- Tramping New Zealand guide book.
- Address book.
- Travel Wallet (ID, passport, credit cards, $, etc...)
Good God... seems like a lot of stuff when it's in a list. I love lists.
Monday, March 13, 2006
The Long Black
I was in NZ four years ago with BC ex-girlfriend. We were in route to three months of travel in the South Pacific and only had a couple nights layover in Auckland. I'd just finished Uni (college) and only managed to do so by consuming disturbing quantities of coffee. It wasn't just a necessity... I also really liked the stuff.
So... for two days, as we wandered and explored the city of Auckland, my poor girlfriend had to put up with my constant quest for a cup of coffee. She was incredibly patient with, if not amused by, my increasingly desperate queries.
"Hello, can I get a drip coffee?"
"A drip what?"
"Do you serve plain brewed coffee?"
"Nah mate... what's that? Do you mean like an espresso?"
"Do you have coffee to-go?"
"To-go? Ahhh... you mean 'Take-Away'. Sure mate... what'd you want? A short black?"
The largest city of this country and not a single cafe or coffee shop served a plain old cup o' joe. What are these strange coffee drinks... Flat White? Short Black? Long Black? I... just... want... a drip coffeeeee...
So my second time around and I've decoded the coffee menu posted at coffee shops all across New Zealand.
1. No... they don't brew plain old coffee here.
2. Short Black = one shot of espresso.
3. Long Black = two shots espresso with a spot of hot water.
4. According to one barista, when milk is properly steamed, it separates into 3 layers: top - froth, middle - "velvety milk", bottom - the "thinnest milk".
5. Flat White = one shot of espresso w/"velvety milk"
6. Latte = one shot of espresso w/the "thinnest milk"
7. Cappucino = one shot of espresso w/froth
8. Mocca = a Latte with cocoa.
So now you know, and knowing is half the battle. I'm a long black man myself, but sometimes I cut it with a little more hot water.
So... for two days, as we wandered and explored the city of Auckland, my poor girlfriend had to put up with my constant quest for a cup of coffee. She was incredibly patient with, if not amused by, my increasingly desperate queries.
"Hello, can I get a drip coffee?"
"A drip what?"
"Do you serve plain brewed coffee?"
"Nah mate... what's that? Do you mean like an espresso?"
"Do you have coffee to-go?"
"To-go? Ahhh... you mean 'Take-Away'. Sure mate... what'd you want? A short black?"
The largest city of this country and not a single cafe or coffee shop served a plain old cup o' joe. What are these strange coffee drinks... Flat White? Short Black? Long Black? I... just... want... a drip coffeeeee...
So my second time around and I've decoded the coffee menu posted at coffee shops all across New Zealand.
1. No... they don't brew plain old coffee here.
2. Short Black = one shot of espresso.
3. Long Black = two shots espresso with a spot of hot water.
4. According to one barista, when milk is properly steamed, it separates into 3 layers: top - froth, middle - "velvety milk", bottom - the "thinnest milk".
5. Flat White = one shot of espresso w/"velvety milk"
6. Latte = one shot of espresso w/the "thinnest milk"
7. Cappucino = one shot of espresso w/froth
8. Mocca = a Latte with cocoa.
So now you know, and knowing is half the battle. I'm a long black man myself, but sometimes I cut it with a little more hot water.
That's Good Eatin'
I always get the look when I empty the contents of my shopping basket on the supermarket conveyor belt... I love it. The lady at the register looks at the strange assortment of food, then at the smelly guy wearing a pack, then back at the food, and finally offers a pitying smile as she begins to scan the items...
- 375g peanut butter (goes w/everything)........................................... $2.15
- 400g raisins (again... w/anything)................................................... $1.50
- Pasta & Sauce packs (like Lipton noodles... serves 4 my arse).... 2x $3.00
- 250g salted peanuts (mmm... salt).................................................. $1.40
- 100g dehydrated peas (thanks Edith... never knew these existed)...... $2.90
- 250g block colby cheese............................................................... $2.80
- Yum-Yum ramen noodles............................................................2x $0.50
- Loaf of whole-meal french bread (fresh!)............................................ $2.50
- 200g hummus................................................................................ $3.30
- Large block Whittaker's chocolate (the toughest to ration).................. $3.00
- 310g muesli (yeah... hot breakfast!)................................................. $2.20
- One ripe tomato............................................................................. $0.24
- One ripe avocado........................................................................... $0.90
- One ripe banana............................................................................. $0.41
- Three ears sweet-corn (on sale!)...................................................... $1.00
TOTAL................................................................ $28.30NZ = ~$19US
Having just returned from 4 days in Arthur's Pass, I crave fresh veggies. Dinner consists of 2 ears sweet corn, a banana, and 2 sandwiches of tomato, avocado, cheese and hummus on toasted french bread. The rest of the shopping list feeds me for the next 4 days. Don't worry mom... I'm also eating multi-vitamins.
- 375g peanut butter (goes w/everything)........................................... $2.15
- 400g raisins (again... w/anything)................................................... $1.50
- Pasta & Sauce packs (like Lipton noodles... serves 4 my arse).... 2x $3.00
- 250g salted peanuts (mmm... salt).................................................. $1.40
- 100g dehydrated peas (thanks Edith... never knew these existed)...... $2.90
- 250g block colby cheese............................................................... $2.80
- Yum-Yum ramen noodles............................................................2x $0.50
- Loaf of whole-meal french bread (fresh!)............................................ $2.50
- 200g hummus................................................................................ $3.30
- Large block Whittaker's chocolate (the toughest to ration).................. $3.00
- 310g muesli (yeah... hot breakfast!)................................................. $2.20
- One ripe tomato............................................................................. $0.24
- One ripe avocado........................................................................... $0.90
- One ripe banana............................................................................. $0.41
- Three ears sweet-corn (on sale!)...................................................... $1.00
TOTAL................................................................ $28.30NZ = ~$19US
Having just returned from 4 days in Arthur's Pass, I crave fresh veggies. Dinner consists of 2 ears sweet corn, a banana, and 2 sandwiches of tomato, avocado, cheese and hummus on toasted french bread. The rest of the shopping list feeds me for the next 4 days. Don't worry mom... I'm also eating multi-vitamins.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
A little more from Art's Pass
A leaping picture to carry on a tradition started by Antarctic Michelle (if I heard the story right). I'm atop Mt. Aicken (1860m). Take one of your own... you might look ridiculous, but it's fun.
Scott's Trail leading up to Avalanche Peak. Mt. Rolleston in the background.
The Lower Mingha River. Up the valley is Goat Pass Hut, where we spent a night before hiking down the Deception River valley.
Looking down the Mingha Valley from Goat Pass. The upper section was planked to preserve the sensitive vegetation.
Scott's Trail leading up to Avalanche Peak. Mt. Rolleston in the background.
The Lower Mingha River. Up the valley is Goat Pass Hut, where we spent a night before hiking down the Deception River valley.
Looking down the Mingha Valley from Goat Pass. The upper section was planked to preserve the sensitive vegetation.
Frodo... eat your heart out.
Obligatory hero shot. Atop Avalanche Peak, looking on to Mt. Rolleston in the Arthur's Pass National Park.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Friday Funnies
"Good night Shelton."
"Good night T'aim..."
"Shelton... it's a lot of fun traveling with you."
"It's fun traveling with you, T'aim."
"Good night."
"Hey T'aim... are we really getting up at 6:00?"
"Yeah, unless you want to join a prayer group."
"Oh... no. Well, good night then."
"Good night Shelton."
Laying there in the dark, eyes open, I realize this mattress on the floor is the first one I've slept on since Nelson, two weeks ago. Huh?... funny.
What a modest day it promised to be this morning. I drank my coffee and ate my toast as Shelton and I loaded up our packs in Karamea. Edith walked us to Highway-67 at the edge of the small town. The two of us planned to hitch roughly 200km South to Greymouth, then 100km East, into the mountains of Arthur's Pass. Edith decided to spend another night in Karamea... resting, painting, and writing... she'd join us in Arthur's Pass tomorrow.
It turns out to be the toughest day of hitchhiking yet, but maybe, also, the best. Shelton and I never make it to Arthur's Pass. What characters today...
Mark... 40 something dairy farmer... tall, calloused hands, and a pockmarked face. Has us over for tea before driving like a maniac 100km South to Westport.
Bob... 50 something diesel mechanic... shaggy blond hair, kind eyes, and a gentle stoop. Worked in Australia and Vanuatu for 20 years before returning to his tiny hometown of Charleston. Buys an ice cream at a cornershop before driving us 20km to Charleston.
Amy.. 6-years-old... clings to her dad's [Bob's] leg and steals shy glances at the strange Americans. Half-aboriginal, with light brown skin, huge brown eyes, and pigtails of kinky blond hair. Eats said ice cream, smiles sheepishly, then giggles and hides when we return the smile.
Julie... 30 something ex-pat from Wales... spunky, stylish and worldly... fell in love with NZ during her travels and decided to stay... that was two years ago. She likes us... chats constantly, and decides to stop off at Putakaiki to show us the famous Pancake Rocks.
Shelton and I thumb for an hour each time to earn our three rides. In Greymouth, after banking, emailing, and buying groceries for 4 days backpacking, we are shocked when we see that it's already 6pm. By 8pm, after an amazing fiery sunset, Greymouth is dark and the two of us are invisible to the cars whizzing by.
Unexpectedly stuck in Greymouth for the night, we discuss our options... tent in the park across the way? Hike back to towncenter and try to find a hostel? Tent in the backyard of the church just up the street? We decide to check out the church.
"I wonder if anyone's in?" I ponder aloud. Trying the front door for kicks, I'm surprised when it opens to a cavernous dark space. There is something slightly erie about a huge empty church. I lead the way in, gingerly calling out, "Anyone home?" Shelton laughs at me, but there's a hint of nervousness in her laugh. I try again, this time a little louder. Shelton groans uncomfortably, "mmm... T'aim, isn't this bad? I mean, aren't we breaking and entering or something?"
"Entering, yes, but we haven't broken a thing." I say this more to reassure myself. No replies and the two of us are wandering through the building. Unable to find light switches, the contents of most rooms escape us. "We should get out of here... it's kinda scary," says Shelton.
"Well, I saw some phone numbers on the front door... why don't we find a phone in here and give 'em a call?" Not a bad idea, I think to myself.
"What are you gonna say?"
"Well, it's a church... they help folks right? I'll tell 'em the front door was open, they'll be happy to know that at least, and maybe... maybe... yeah, here... I'll ask if we can crash on the floor in this daycare room."
"mmm... this is nice carpet," says Shelton as she tests the carpet with her foot.
We find no phones after wandering through the kitchen, common areas, day care and sanctuary. "Well, maybe we should just tent in the park," says Shelton.
"Okay, let's look at the park... see how safe it seems, and maybe we'll see a pay phone out there. Shelton... if you'll remember 7-6-8, I'll remember the 7-0-8-5 part of the number."
So... the park looks really sketchy, and there are no pay phones in sight. I suggest we post a note on the church door, alerting people entering that there are a couple of well intentioned backpackers asleep in the day care. Shelton looks at me like I'm speaking Klingon. She notices the video store, where earlier I bummed a piece of cardboard for an "Arthur's Pass" sign, still has its lights on. "How About we ask the video store guy what he thinks?"
"Uh... okay, but you're doing the asking," I reply. The poor video store clerk is vacuuming as we walce through the front door. "Hi again!" I say as we enter. Shelton asks and the man shrugs. She looks at me as if to say 'now what?' I look back as if to say 'not a clue.'
After a second, I think aloud, "We have the phone number for the clergy. Maybe... can we use your phone?" The clerk agrees, almost eagerly... probably curious to see how this is going to turn out. One ring and a friendly, elderly voice answers...
"Hello... sorry to trouble you at this hour," I say. "I'm Tim, an American backpacker. My friend and I were trying to hitch a ride to Arthur's Pass in front of your church tonight and... well... it got dark and now we're stuck in Greymouth."
"Ahhh... uh-huh, uh-huh... I see... ahhh..." is all I hear from the other end. I look at Shelton, my free hand upturned, and I continue, "well... we noticed that your church door was unlocked, and... I'm sorry, this is odd, but... would you be okay if we laid out our sleeping bags on the floor and slept in there for the night?" I think to myself... 'wow... that sounded really ridiculous.'
The elderly man says... "Sure thing lad. I'll drag out a couple of mattresses and see you in a minute." Before I can say anything back, he says, "Okay then? I'll be there in a second... [click]" I look at Shelton with bewildered eyes.
"Well?" she asks.
"He's bringing us mattresses..." I chuckle.
"Shut up!" she says and shoves my shoulder. "We should, we should get him some chocolate or something..." she rambles on. "Do you think he likes chocolate? Maybe ice cream? Do clergy men eat ice cream?"
"Sure they do," I laugh. "Lets get him some of each."
I buy a Cadbury Creme Egg and Shelton bursts, "I'm gonna get him a Memphis Meltdown! (her favorite ice cream bar - incidentally, she's also from Memphis) What kind should I get?" There are many kinds... caramel, toffee, double chocolate... "I'm gonna get him this one... 'Big Nuts'! Ha!"
At this point even the video store clerk is cracking up. My hand shakes with laughter as I pay the man. We run out the store, our sandals splashing in puddles as we race to the church. The lights are already on within, and as we sprint up the steps, Robin opens the door for us. He's small, spectacled, and totally bald except for the short white hair just above his ears. He has bright eyes and a red button nose... smiling kindly he welcomes us in.
"We brought you ice cream and chocolate!" Shelton exclaims proudly.
"Oh... oh dear... well, thank you," Robin replies.
"Do you eat ice cream?"
"Of course!" he smiles.
Robin shows us a quiet back room where we throw our mattresses on the floor. As he's leaving, he spins around, and says, "Oh, I almost forgot. I need you two to do something for me." Eh? we wonder. "Today is March 7th... do you know what that means?" he continues. We haven't a clue. "Well, it's a very important day in New Zealand... it's the census day. Every single person in New Zealand who is alive on March 7th must have a census form filled out, and that includes you two."
A few minutes later, he returns with two forms and two envelope. He says good night, and leaves us for the evening. We fill out our forms, Shelton makes a tomato, hummus, pita sandwich, and I get some hot water for my cowboy coffee.
I'm doing some reading when Shelton steps away. A few minutes later, I hear piano music streaming out of the cavernous sanctuary. I find Shelton swaying slowly at the piano bench, her hands dancing along the keys. I approach slowly, but when she hears me, she stops immediately and spins around as though she were caught doing something wrong.
"You're really good," I say... she really is.
"Nooo... I'm not. I can't play in front of people."
"Oh... sorry. I didn't know... I'll leave you alone then."
She's such a funny gal... I want to tell her it's okay to be graceful sometimes... it doesn't make you any less tough and free-spirited. I walk back toward the door. As I'm walking away, Shelton begins to play again, and I duck in between some pews near the exit. Laying on the floor with my eyes closed, I listen to Shelton play unfamiliar classical pieces. I can imagine her hands dancing along the keys again. She stumbles on a note occasionally, but it's obvious she loves to play. Funny that I never knew.
Laying there, I almost let out a laugh as I think of where I am at this very moment.
"Good night T'aim..."
"Shelton... it's a lot of fun traveling with you."
"It's fun traveling with you, T'aim."
"Good night."
"Hey T'aim... are we really getting up at 6:00?"
"Yeah, unless you want to join a prayer group."
"Oh... no. Well, good night then."
"Good night Shelton."
Laying there in the dark, eyes open, I realize this mattress on the floor is the first one I've slept on since Nelson, two weeks ago. Huh?... funny.
What a modest day it promised to be this morning. I drank my coffee and ate my toast as Shelton and I loaded up our packs in Karamea. Edith walked us to Highway-67 at the edge of the small town. The two of us planned to hitch roughly 200km South to Greymouth, then 100km East, into the mountains of Arthur's Pass. Edith decided to spend another night in Karamea... resting, painting, and writing... she'd join us in Arthur's Pass tomorrow.
It turns out to be the toughest day of hitchhiking yet, but maybe, also, the best. Shelton and I never make it to Arthur's Pass. What characters today...
Mark... 40 something dairy farmer... tall, calloused hands, and a pockmarked face. Has us over for tea before driving like a maniac 100km South to Westport.
Bob... 50 something diesel mechanic... shaggy blond hair, kind eyes, and a gentle stoop. Worked in Australia and Vanuatu for 20 years before returning to his tiny hometown of Charleston. Buys an ice cream at a cornershop before driving us 20km to Charleston.
Amy.. 6-years-old... clings to her dad's [Bob's] leg and steals shy glances at the strange Americans. Half-aboriginal, with light brown skin, huge brown eyes, and pigtails of kinky blond hair. Eats said ice cream, smiles sheepishly, then giggles and hides when we return the smile.
Julie... 30 something ex-pat from Wales... spunky, stylish and worldly... fell in love with NZ during her travels and decided to stay... that was two years ago. She likes us... chats constantly, and decides to stop off at Putakaiki to show us the famous Pancake Rocks.
Shelton and I thumb for an hour each time to earn our three rides. In Greymouth, after banking, emailing, and buying groceries for 4 days backpacking, we are shocked when we see that it's already 6pm. By 8pm, after an amazing fiery sunset, Greymouth is dark and the two of us are invisible to the cars whizzing by.
Unexpectedly stuck in Greymouth for the night, we discuss our options... tent in the park across the way? Hike back to towncenter and try to find a hostel? Tent in the backyard of the church just up the street? We decide to check out the church.
"I wonder if anyone's in?" I ponder aloud. Trying the front door for kicks, I'm surprised when it opens to a cavernous dark space. There is something slightly erie about a huge empty church. I lead the way in, gingerly calling out, "Anyone home?" Shelton laughs at me, but there's a hint of nervousness in her laugh. I try again, this time a little louder. Shelton groans uncomfortably, "mmm... T'aim, isn't this bad? I mean, aren't we breaking and entering or something?"
"Entering, yes, but we haven't broken a thing." I say this more to reassure myself. No replies and the two of us are wandering through the building. Unable to find light switches, the contents of most rooms escape us. "We should get out of here... it's kinda scary," says Shelton.
"Well, I saw some phone numbers on the front door... why don't we find a phone in here and give 'em a call?" Not a bad idea, I think to myself.
"What are you gonna say?"
"Well, it's a church... they help folks right? I'll tell 'em the front door was open, they'll be happy to know that at least, and maybe... maybe... yeah, here... I'll ask if we can crash on the floor in this daycare room."
"mmm... this is nice carpet," says Shelton as she tests the carpet with her foot.
We find no phones after wandering through the kitchen, common areas, day care and sanctuary. "Well, maybe we should just tent in the park," says Shelton.
"Okay, let's look at the park... see how safe it seems, and maybe we'll see a pay phone out there. Shelton... if you'll remember 7-6-8, I'll remember the 7-0-8-5 part of the number."
So... the park looks really sketchy, and there are no pay phones in sight. I suggest we post a note on the church door, alerting people entering that there are a couple of well intentioned backpackers asleep in the day care. Shelton looks at me like I'm speaking Klingon. She notices the video store, where earlier I bummed a piece of cardboard for an "Arthur's Pass" sign, still has its lights on. "How About we ask the video store guy what he thinks?"
"Uh... okay, but you're doing the asking," I reply. The poor video store clerk is vacuuming as we walce through the front door. "Hi again!" I say as we enter. Shelton asks and the man shrugs. She looks at me as if to say 'now what?' I look back as if to say 'not a clue.'
After a second, I think aloud, "We have the phone number for the clergy. Maybe... can we use your phone?" The clerk agrees, almost eagerly... probably curious to see how this is going to turn out. One ring and a friendly, elderly voice answers...
"Hello... sorry to trouble you at this hour," I say. "I'm Tim, an American backpacker. My friend and I were trying to hitch a ride to Arthur's Pass in front of your church tonight and... well... it got dark and now we're stuck in Greymouth."
"Ahhh... uh-huh, uh-huh... I see... ahhh..." is all I hear from the other end. I look at Shelton, my free hand upturned, and I continue, "well... we noticed that your church door was unlocked, and... I'm sorry, this is odd, but... would you be okay if we laid out our sleeping bags on the floor and slept in there for the night?" I think to myself... 'wow... that sounded really ridiculous.'
The elderly man says... "Sure thing lad. I'll drag out a couple of mattresses and see you in a minute." Before I can say anything back, he says, "Okay then? I'll be there in a second... [click]" I look at Shelton with bewildered eyes.
"Well?" she asks.
"He's bringing us mattresses..." I chuckle.
"Shut up!" she says and shoves my shoulder. "We should, we should get him some chocolate or something..." she rambles on. "Do you think he likes chocolate? Maybe ice cream? Do clergy men eat ice cream?"
"Sure they do," I laugh. "Lets get him some of each."
I buy a Cadbury Creme Egg and Shelton bursts, "I'm gonna get him a Memphis Meltdown! (her favorite ice cream bar - incidentally, she's also from Memphis) What kind should I get?" There are many kinds... caramel, toffee, double chocolate... "I'm gonna get him this one... 'Big Nuts'! Ha!"
At this point even the video store clerk is cracking up. My hand shakes with laughter as I pay the man. We run out the store, our sandals splashing in puddles as we race to the church. The lights are already on within, and as we sprint up the steps, Robin opens the door for us. He's small, spectacled, and totally bald except for the short white hair just above his ears. He has bright eyes and a red button nose... smiling kindly he welcomes us in.
"We brought you ice cream and chocolate!" Shelton exclaims proudly.
"Oh... oh dear... well, thank you," Robin replies.
"Do you eat ice cream?"
"Of course!" he smiles.
Robin shows us a quiet back room where we throw our mattresses on the floor. As he's leaving, he spins around, and says, "Oh, I almost forgot. I need you two to do something for me." Eh? we wonder. "Today is March 7th... do you know what that means?" he continues. We haven't a clue. "Well, it's a very important day in New Zealand... it's the census day. Every single person in New Zealand who is alive on March 7th must have a census form filled out, and that includes you two."
A few minutes later, he returns with two forms and two envelope. He says good night, and leaves us for the evening. We fill out our forms, Shelton makes a tomato, hummus, pita sandwich, and I get some hot water for my cowboy coffee.
I'm doing some reading when Shelton steps away. A few minutes later, I hear piano music streaming out of the cavernous sanctuary. I find Shelton swaying slowly at the piano bench, her hands dancing along the keys. I approach slowly, but when she hears me, she stops immediately and spins around as though she were caught doing something wrong.
"You're really good," I say... she really is.
"Nooo... I'm not. I can't play in front of people."
"Oh... sorry. I didn't know... I'll leave you alone then."
She's such a funny gal... I want to tell her it's okay to be graceful sometimes... it doesn't make you any less tough and free-spirited. I walk back toward the door. As I'm walking away, Shelton begins to play again, and I duck in between some pews near the exit. Laying on the floor with my eyes closed, I listen to Shelton play unfamiliar classical pieces. I can imagine her hands dancing along the keys again. She stumbles on a note occasionally, but it's obvious she loves to play. Funny that I never knew.
Laying there, I almost let out a laugh as I think of where I am at this very moment.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Monday, March 06, 2006
Daily Vocab
today's words are...
Trail Magic - found objects (candy bars, bottles of water, fuel, tent stakes) on the trail.
Trail Fairy - those wonderful people leaving behind the trail magic.
Trail Magic - found objects (candy bars, bottles of water, fuel, tent stakes) on the trail.
Trail Fairy - those wonderful people leaving behind the trail magic.
Heaphy Track: 82km (51miles) over the Tasman Mountains to the Tasman Sea
The morning after we got back from our little kayak adventure, Edith Shelton and I set off on the Heaphy Track making our way to the West Coast. Four days, each one a distinctly different experience...
Day 1: 17km (~10.5miles) A gradual ascent to Perry Saddle through lush beach forest. (pic. Edith admires the trailside moss)
Day 2: 27.5km (16.7miles) Beautiful Day of tramping through rolling hills of high grassy plains and small stands of stunted beach trees. Saw the sunset on the mouth of the Heaphy River some 20km away (pics. Gouland Downs and sunset on the Tasman Sea).
Day 3: 21.5km (~13.3mi) Gradual descent to the mouth of the Heaphy River. Limestone cliffs, swing bridges, nikau palms and the slowly moving Heaphy River. (pics. Heaphy River Valley and sunset at river mouth)
Day 4: 16.5km (~10.2mi) Hiked South along the Tasman Sea. The thundering surf ever present (pic. me beach hiking)
Day 1: 17km (~10.5miles) A gradual ascent to Perry Saddle through lush beach forest. (pic. Edith admires the trailside moss)
Day 2: 27.5km (16.7miles) Beautiful Day of tramping through rolling hills of high grassy plains and small stands of stunted beach trees. Saw the sunset on the mouth of the Heaphy River some 20km away (pics. Gouland Downs and sunset on the Tasman Sea).
Day 3: 21.5km (~13.3mi) Gradual descent to the mouth of the Heaphy River. Limestone cliffs, swing bridges, nikau palms and the slowly moving Heaphy River. (pics. Heaphy River Valley and sunset at river mouth)
Day 4: 16.5km (~10.2mi) Hiked South along the Tasman Sea. The thundering surf ever present (pic. me beach hiking)
That Fresh Feeling
Having hiked 41 of 51 miles, three tired and happy trampers huddle around their dinners cooking on backpacking stoves...
me - "I put on fresh boxers when I got to camp [after 3 days tramping] and it felt sooo good."
edith - "mmm... I did that last night."
shelton - "Today's my first day wearing underwear at all. And all day I kept looking for a place to take 'em off."
me - "You've been hiking commando all this time?"
shelton - "I hate wearing underwear... I hiked the whole AT without underwear."
me - "Dear God!"
edith - "Shelton... they broke the mold after you didn't they?"
me - "I put on fresh boxers when I got to camp [after 3 days tramping] and it felt sooo good."
edith - "mmm... I did that last night."
shelton - "Today's my first day wearing underwear at all. And all day I kept looking for a place to take 'em off."
me - "You've been hiking commando all this time?"
shelton - "I hate wearing underwear... I hiked the whole AT without underwear."
me - "Dear God!"
edith - "Shelton... they broke the mold after you didn't they?"
Friday, March 03, 2006
Escaping Takaka
My original "plan" had me staying in Takaka for two nights. Well... the brilliant weather, a free porch to sleep on, a house full of crazy kids, and beaches within walking distance kept me here three extra nights.
Today I pried myself away. Three hitches later - thanks to an old man in his pickup, an ex-pat Scottish carpenter, and a generous German named Martin - I make it some 60km to the Heaphy Track trail head.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Abel Tasman Part II
(PIC: 7 Happy kids enjoying our own private beach for the afternoon.)Seven of us galley kids (bakers - Doug & Allison, cooks - Keith, Shelton & Edith, DA's - John & myself) pile into rental kayaks and get a view of the Abel Tasman Nat'l Park from the ocean.
Five hours of paddling gets us to Mosquito Bay (nice name)... a campground only accessible by sea. Sitting on the sand, around our campstoves, we sip beer and wine while resting our weary sunburnt shoulders. Perfect.
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