One question that popped into my head when hovering over the glaciers and mountains the previous day was just big is all this really? I don't know if it was the lack of horizon or the constantly changing altitude (the pilot was definitely having fun) but it was difficult to tell just how big everything below us was. Franz and Fox were enlightening.
The first glacial town you come to when heading south along the west coast is Franz Josef. It is a mountain town not really in the mountains, but that's the west coast for you. A land of extremes. More or less the town itself is a bit of a tourist trap, at least superficially, but what we cared about lied just outside it's borders. Franz Josef Glacier. It was about a 45 minute hike in and bang, there you are. Massive glacier moving it's way, up?, the mountain. The first thing that impressed me about it was where it once was. Even just 100 years ago it was so much bigger. You pass signs on the hike in, 30 minutes before you can even see it in the distance (and I mean waaaay in the distance), that show where it "once was." The second thing that impressed me was just how insanely huge it still is. We couldn't get right up on it as the dangers are extreme but even from far away it makes you feel very small. We were standing in a valley, thousands of yards from this glacier, scoured by years and years of glacial movement. Franz Josef has left it's mark on every thing from the cliff walls to the tiny pebbles on he ground. It is amazing what ice can do. What is left in its receding wake is just as beautiful as the glacier itself. Incredible waterfalls, beautiful rock formations, pools of the most beautiful blue water... The pictures don't do justice. The scale and power of everything in that valley was humbling.
Heading south from Franz you come to the town of Fox Glacier. It is basically a smaller version of the first, the town that is. I believe Fox Glacier is supposed to be the less trafficked glacier but for me it was the more impressive. I don't think the valley was as beautiful but the way you approached the glacier itself was special. You basically walk in the brush for 20 minutes or so which is very green and thick and then out of nowhere you crest a little hill and between the forest and trail you can see the glacier glowing in the distance. Very cool. It was also neat to see the pools and river carrying away pieces of the glacier. For us, catching pieces of ice was like touching the real thing. Not the same I know but as close as we could get. I'll take it! The vantage point at the end of this trail is up on a hill so you can look down on the valley below. This is where I took the pictures of the two guys walking below us. The whole experience, the two glaciers and chopper ride deep into the mountains, really opened my eyes to just how amazing and extreme the terrain is out there. I don't think I imagined it right because the reality of it all blew me away.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
A Rivermouth Sans Kiwis and Glaciers by Air
From Hokitika we drove down the coast with intentions of ending our day's journey at Okarito. This stretch of coast (particularly from Greymouth south) is known as the last frontier of surf exploration in New Zealand. Along the way we took numerous detours in an effort to scope potential spots for the upcoming winter, however, it's a complicated stretch of coastline with no great ways to access what could be "holding." Most of it is national park and farm land only accessible by foot, boat, or trespassing. Adding to the allure are the endless points and bays visible on the map. The right bottom with that exposure to the Tasman...! I can only imagine. What areas we did see where amazingly barren stretches of beach with more driftwood piled up than I'd ever imagined. We'd check a spot, drive 30 minutes, check another and it looked the same as the last. Note to self: Need to get rich, buy a plane or helicopter, and thoroughly explore this area again. Either that or para-sail which Tim and I are talking about. We'll see on that one.
As we got further down the coast we happened to cross a bridge that carried us over the strangest shade of blue I'd ever seen. "What the hell was that?!?" Right as we were about to turn around we noticed a pull-off for an i site. That's another cool thing about New Zealand travel. Almost everywhere you go there are i sites. If there is more than 10 houses in a town there's an i site. There on all the maps and all the nearby road signs. These little gems provide a wealth of information regarding area offerings, weather, they usually have internet, and can book anything for you from accommodation to activities. A truly amazing invention. As we drove down the turn off for the i site we noticed the buzzing of a helicopter. We came to the could a sac right on the river and that's when it hit us. We're in glacier country, this must be glacial run-off. It's hard to describe just how different the color was. It was almost as if you took the bluest sky you'd ever seen and added a touch of milk and light. Radiant. We sat there, took a few photos, and watched some rafters come in when we were approached with one hell of an offer.
The owner of a site seeing company told us that he had two people booked on a tour of the local mountains/glaciers and that there were four seats. For him sending anything less than a full vehicle was just bad business and for doing him the favor of filling two seats he'd knock 40% off. Apparently the buzzing we'd heard was the transportation... How do you say no to that? Off we were on a heli tour of the local mountains and glaciers. Wow did that change my perspective of the local terrain! It was endless jagged peaks wrapped in huge ice flows. In every crack and crevasse were pools of crazy blue water. There were clouds forming and moving at amazing rates all around the area giving the feeling of the mountain being alive. It was almost what I'd imagine flying above a volcano would be like only this was ice. I don't know why it felt alive and volatile but it did. For the first time I feel like I know why mountaineers do what they do. I see the allure at that elevation. It truly was awe inspiring.
At the end of the day we made our way to Okarito and upon checking the beach found a perfect little river mouth to surf. The only problem, or potential problem, was that the waves looked the best of the other side of the river. Normally this is a no issue but this particular river was DUMPING water into the ocean at a rate which raised the red flag (at least 1/2 way up the pole): Can we paddle across this before getting swept out to sea? Tim and I, being men of brawn, decided to charge it. We walked way up the river, jumped in, and started paddling our asses off. All was going well and both of us were looking good thinking "no problem," when I noticed that the opposite embankment was not like the one we just left. It was not sandy, smooth, and gradual, no, it was made of pebbles that dropped vertically into the water. I have not seen a shoreline like this before. As I approached it I jumped off onto the vertical shore but as I clawed my way up pebbles just kept moving and moving, making it almost impossible to climb. While paddling we had drifted almost to the point where the river meets the ocean. I think our fear of getting caught in that current and our slight "concern" with Dante's shoreline prompted adrenal flow and subsequent shoreline summit. I still don't know how hard it was to climb. It just happened. Luckily the surf was really fun and consistent and the paddle back was onto a shoreline we'd come off of and knew it was easy. So yeah, surfed till sunset then made the long paddle back.
That night we cooked some dinner on the beach then remembered seeing a pull-off for a "Kiwi habitat" when we came in. The first park of it's kind that we'd seen in NZ. Understand this about Kiwi's. There's the fruit, the people, and the bird. The people are everywhere (obviously) and that term for them is fact. It's not rude and it's not overly endearing. They just are kiwi's. There's the fruit which, while in every grocery store and surely grown here, I have yet to see on a tree. This is duly noted however since their price in grocery stores is just right. Then there is the bird, the mother of them all, the flightless little ball of feathers that looks like something you just want to squeeze. If I'm not mistaken this is where the word "Kiwi" started. Funny thing about it. They are NOWHERE. Don't get me wrong, they do exist, but even most of the born and raised locals have yet to see them in the wild. For some reason I have a feeling I'll see one and have been ridiculed for that notion since arriving. "Suuuuure you will," is what I usually get. This "Kiwi habitat" was our chance!!! They are nocturnal birds so the time was right. Off Tim and I went. It was a short up-hill hike to the "habitat" and while we did hear them all around us calling to each other, we could not get our lights on them. A tricky foe this Kiwi is turning out to be! Luckily there was a large wooden platform at the top of the hike where you could relax and the benches were perfect for laying down and looking up at the always impressive New Zealand night sky. I saw a Kiwi alright, in the stars! Dammit I will see one on this trip!!!
As we got further down the coast we happened to cross a bridge that carried us over the strangest shade of blue I'd ever seen. "What the hell was that?!?" Right as we were about to turn around we noticed a pull-off for an i site. That's another cool thing about New Zealand travel. Almost everywhere you go there are i sites. If there is more than 10 houses in a town there's an i site. There on all the maps and all the nearby road signs. These little gems provide a wealth of information regarding area offerings, weather, they usually have internet, and can book anything for you from accommodation to activities. A truly amazing invention. As we drove down the turn off for the i site we noticed the buzzing of a helicopter. We came to the could a sac right on the river and that's when it hit us. We're in glacier country, this must be glacial run-off. It's hard to describe just how different the color was. It was almost as if you took the bluest sky you'd ever seen and added a touch of milk and light. Radiant. We sat there, took a few photos, and watched some rafters come in when we were approached with one hell of an offer.
The owner of a site seeing company told us that he had two people booked on a tour of the local mountains/glaciers and that there were four seats. For him sending anything less than a full vehicle was just bad business and for doing him the favor of filling two seats he'd knock 40% off. Apparently the buzzing we'd heard was the transportation... How do you say no to that? Off we were on a heli tour of the local mountains and glaciers. Wow did that change my perspective of the local terrain! It was endless jagged peaks wrapped in huge ice flows. In every crack and crevasse were pools of crazy blue water. There were clouds forming and moving at amazing rates all around the area giving the feeling of the mountain being alive. It was almost what I'd imagine flying above a volcano would be like only this was ice. I don't know why it felt alive and volatile but it did. For the first time I feel like I know why mountaineers do what they do. I see the allure at that elevation. It truly was awe inspiring.
At the end of the day we made our way to Okarito and upon checking the beach found a perfect little river mouth to surf. The only problem, or potential problem, was that the waves looked the best of the other side of the river. Normally this is a no issue but this particular river was DUMPING water into the ocean at a rate which raised the red flag (at least 1/2 way up the pole): Can we paddle across this before getting swept out to sea? Tim and I, being men of brawn, decided to charge it. We walked way up the river, jumped in, and started paddling our asses off. All was going well and both of us were looking good thinking "no problem," when I noticed that the opposite embankment was not like the one we just left. It was not sandy, smooth, and gradual, no, it was made of pebbles that dropped vertically into the water. I have not seen a shoreline like this before. As I approached it I jumped off onto the vertical shore but as I clawed my way up pebbles just kept moving and moving, making it almost impossible to climb. While paddling we had drifted almost to the point where the river meets the ocean. I think our fear of getting caught in that current and our slight "concern" with Dante's shoreline prompted adrenal flow and subsequent shoreline summit. I still don't know how hard it was to climb. It just happened. Luckily the surf was really fun and consistent and the paddle back was onto a shoreline we'd come off of and knew it was easy. So yeah, surfed till sunset then made the long paddle back.
That night we cooked some dinner on the beach then remembered seeing a pull-off for a "Kiwi habitat" when we came in. The first park of it's kind that we'd seen in NZ. Understand this about Kiwi's. There's the fruit, the people, and the bird. The people are everywhere (obviously) and that term for them is fact. It's not rude and it's not overly endearing. They just are kiwi's. There's the fruit which, while in every grocery store and surely grown here, I have yet to see on a tree. This is duly noted however since their price in grocery stores is just right. Then there is the bird, the mother of them all, the flightless little ball of feathers that looks like something you just want to squeeze. If I'm not mistaken this is where the word "Kiwi" started. Funny thing about it. They are NOWHERE. Don't get me wrong, they do exist, but even most of the born and raised locals have yet to see them in the wild. For some reason I have a feeling I'll see one and have been ridiculed for that notion since arriving. "Suuuuure you will," is what I usually get. This "Kiwi habitat" was our chance!!! They are nocturnal birds so the time was right. Off Tim and I went. It was a short up-hill hike to the "habitat" and while we did hear them all around us calling to each other, we could not get our lights on them. A tricky foe this Kiwi is turning out to be! Luckily there was a large wooden platform at the top of the hike where you could relax and the benches were perfect for laying down and looking up at the always impressive New Zealand night sky. I saw a Kiwi alright, in the stars! Dammit I will see one on this trip!!!
Monday, March 23, 2009
Wild What?
Wild Foods. You name it and you can probably get it at this festival. I mean it, go ahead, give it a shot. Brain? Got it. Lambs tail? Got it. Sheep's balls? Got it. Chances are that if you have a hankering to eat something that is/was at one point part of a living animal found in New Zealand, you could do it at this festival. They even had a few nice "live" dishes as well but before I get into the nitty gritty, let me rewind.
The festival itself is held in the Pounamu (Jade) capital of New Zealand; a little beach town by the name of Hokitika. It is an artsy place seemingly guided by the jade carving industry. There are such beautiful pieces in sizes that I didn't even know jade could be found in! What added to the artsy feel was that in addition to the "wild foods" part of the festival they set up the town square with booths of artists and crafts makers from all over New Zealand. Trinkets galore. My mom would have been in heaven. Our first day there was spent wandering the booths, getting our tickets for the next day's shenanigans, and trying to surf. I say trying because that's exactly what we did. I have never before been in a rip current that strong. No matter how hard I paddled I couldn't beat it. I was in its clutches. The funny thing about it was that the rip current wasn't going out to sea, it was going straight toward and adjacent to shore! Tim and I were both paddling for about 5 minutes before we realized we weren't going anywhere but down the beach. The current was so bad when we finally made it to the next sandbar where we could stand (maybe waist deep), we put our feet down and dug in but were still getting dragged! In the end Tim never made it out and it took me every ounce of effort to get through the rip. When I finally did I caught two waves and came in out of shear exhaustion. Can you say beat down?
Now it's time for Wild Foods. Maybe. The first thing I noticed at the festival was just how insanely big it was. If I remember correctly I think they were limiting tickets this year to 15,000 people. Apparently there was no cap in past years and it was just getting out of control. Imagine it. 15,000+ people descending on a town of 3,000. One massive party... Apparently the taboo food isn't so taboo anymore. I saw everyone from little kids to an elderly lady in her Sunday's best cruising around in a rascal. There were costumes, games, sing-alongs, lots of food, and lots of drinking. That was by far the largest group of truly inebriated people I have ever seen. The great part was that there was lots of green space (central park in town) which facilitated the "inebriated sprawl." You could almost tell the time by the increasing amount of people falling out on the surrounding lawn. Alright Matt, the goods please? By FAR, the most disgusting food I saw was sheep's balls. Hands down. I didn't get to see anyone eat them but apparently earlier in the day someone did order and eat one. Check the pictures...they're full on disgusting. They were mincing the huevos and making sandwiches out of them which seemed quite popular but still, not my kind of edible organ. That seemed to be the overriding king of disgustingness. You had to be somewhat careful because wild foods seemed to mean two things. There were the wild foods that might be a delicacy in another country and were prepared with scrutiny and then there were the "Fear Factor" wild foods that just tried to be as grotesquely extreme as possible. One tent might have a wild meat stew that was wild venison, wild boar, wild goat, wild mushroom, etc., and one might have a stew by the same name that had brain, testicles, eyes, etc. If you come, read the fine print. I feel bad for the guy who gets extremely drunk and indiscriminately hungry in a place like that. "I ate what?!?!" As far as what Tim and I had: chocolate covered grubs, grasshopper, worms sushi, ostrich, kangaroo, and wild venison and mushroom sausage. I have to agree with my brother, the crunchy bugs are my least favorite. Worms tasted too much like dirt. Grubs probably were the least attractive initially but the best tasting of the three. Kangaroo and ostrich were delicious as was the venison. We also had some ham and cheese crapes as filler in between. We figured it wasn't a good idea to walk around hungry as we did have a beer or three. Thankfully not all the food was on the side of extreme. Another cool thing we got to try was kava from Fiji. It was a very interesting drink and not nearly as bad tasting as I'd thought. I've heard over and over that it tastes like dirty water and that some people have a hard time drinking it. To me it just tasted like an earth tea or something. Not repulsive just not epic either. I'll definitely need to try it again though because outside of a numb tongue (hell yeah it was fun) I really didn't get too much of an effect. Could have been all the food and beer interfering.
So that was it. That was Wild Foods for us. Lots of walking around, lots of eating and drinking, lots of bouncing to the live music, etc. It was a beautiful day with beautiful weather and if I remember correctly we hung around outside that evening watching the sunset and thinking just how bad of an idea it would be to try and go for a surf...
The festival itself is held in the Pounamu (Jade) capital of New Zealand; a little beach town by the name of Hokitika. It is an artsy place seemingly guided by the jade carving industry. There are such beautiful pieces in sizes that I didn't even know jade could be found in! What added to the artsy feel was that in addition to the "wild foods" part of the festival they set up the town square with booths of artists and crafts makers from all over New Zealand. Trinkets galore. My mom would have been in heaven. Our first day there was spent wandering the booths, getting our tickets for the next day's shenanigans, and trying to surf. I say trying because that's exactly what we did. I have never before been in a rip current that strong. No matter how hard I paddled I couldn't beat it. I was in its clutches. The funny thing about it was that the rip current wasn't going out to sea, it was going straight toward and adjacent to shore! Tim and I were both paddling for about 5 minutes before we realized we weren't going anywhere but down the beach. The current was so bad when we finally made it to the next sandbar where we could stand (maybe waist deep), we put our feet down and dug in but were still getting dragged! In the end Tim never made it out and it took me every ounce of effort to get through the rip. When I finally did I caught two waves and came in out of shear exhaustion. Can you say beat down?
Now it's time for Wild Foods. Maybe. The first thing I noticed at the festival was just how insanely big it was. If I remember correctly I think they were limiting tickets this year to 15,000 people. Apparently there was no cap in past years and it was just getting out of control. Imagine it. 15,000+ people descending on a town of 3,000. One massive party... Apparently the taboo food isn't so taboo anymore. I saw everyone from little kids to an elderly lady in her Sunday's best cruising around in a rascal. There were costumes, games, sing-alongs, lots of food, and lots of drinking. That was by far the largest group of truly inebriated people I have ever seen. The great part was that there was lots of green space (central park in town) which facilitated the "inebriated sprawl." You could almost tell the time by the increasing amount of people falling out on the surrounding lawn. Alright Matt, the goods please? By FAR, the most disgusting food I saw was sheep's balls. Hands down. I didn't get to see anyone eat them but apparently earlier in the day someone did order and eat one. Check the pictures...they're full on disgusting. They were mincing the huevos and making sandwiches out of them which seemed quite popular but still, not my kind of edible organ. That seemed to be the overriding king of disgustingness. You had to be somewhat careful because wild foods seemed to mean two things. There were the wild foods that might be a delicacy in another country and were prepared with scrutiny and then there were the "Fear Factor" wild foods that just tried to be as grotesquely extreme as possible. One tent might have a wild meat stew that was wild venison, wild boar, wild goat, wild mushroom, etc., and one might have a stew by the same name that had brain, testicles, eyes, etc. If you come, read the fine print. I feel bad for the guy who gets extremely drunk and indiscriminately hungry in a place like that. "I ate what?!?!" As far as what Tim and I had: chocolate covered grubs, grasshopper, worms sushi, ostrich, kangaroo, and wild venison and mushroom sausage. I have to agree with my brother, the crunchy bugs are my least favorite. Worms tasted too much like dirt. Grubs probably were the least attractive initially but the best tasting of the three. Kangaroo and ostrich were delicious as was the venison. We also had some ham and cheese crapes as filler in between. We figured it wasn't a good idea to walk around hungry as we did have a beer or three. Thankfully not all the food was on the side of extreme. Another cool thing we got to try was kava from Fiji. It was a very interesting drink and not nearly as bad tasting as I'd thought. I've heard over and over that it tastes like dirty water and that some people have a hard time drinking it. To me it just tasted like an earth tea or something. Not repulsive just not epic either. I'll definitely need to try it again though because outside of a numb tongue (hell yeah it was fun) I really didn't get too much of an effect. Could have been all the food and beer interfering.
So that was it. That was Wild Foods for us. Lots of walking around, lots of eating and drinking, lots of bouncing to the live music, etc. It was a beautiful day with beautiful weather and if I remember correctly we hung around outside that evening watching the sunset and thinking just how bad of an idea it would be to try and go for a surf...
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Charleston
From then till now, where have we been? Payne's Ford was amazing as was the whole northwest/Golden Bay area of the South Island but, as a traveler who has respect for his profession (traveler), I needed to move on. It's funny really. Before coming here I had a "fantasy" of sorts regarding what being in New Zealand would encompass. One of the things I really looked forward to was the whole "going slow" aspect of things. Living a "mini-retirement" with no agenda present or future. I pictured staying in places for weeks at a time and truly wearing out each location. What I am realizing and what I've heard before but never grasped is what seems to inevitably happen when you become a traveler, at least in my case. Someone famous once said, "Life is like a book and those who don't travel read only the first page." What I've come to find is that once you do finally turn that first page the second comes much easier, even as if with momentum, and that nature/flow becomes a part of you...or maybe it was there all along but now uncovered. For me it seems a more natural way. All the places here are amazing but it feels so good to get on the road and go someplace new, even if it's only a town an hour away.
So off to the West Coast... We drove through Westport down to a little coastal town called Charleston. It was very small but beautiful. What attracted us to the place was a climbing area by the same name found right on the beach known for trad climbing (a style of climbing where you place your own protection in the rock's weaknesses). Now this is the West Coast mind you, the Tasman Sea, known for being a rough SOB. There are climbs that traverse out on cliffs with massive waves breaking below the climber threatening to take out the belayer. All the local climbers warn of rogue waves, making sure the belay ties himself to the rock on certain routes for fear of being swept away, and even tourists that drowned while scavenging for shells. Unfortunately for us the stories were the most exciting part as we were there for two days but the rain never let up enough to climb and we had an important date to keep with the Wild Foods Festival.
So off to the West Coast... We drove through Westport down to a little coastal town called Charleston. It was very small but beautiful. What attracted us to the place was a climbing area by the same name found right on the beach known for trad climbing (a style of climbing where you place your own protection in the rock's weaknesses). Now this is the West Coast mind you, the Tasman Sea, known for being a rough SOB. There are climbs that traverse out on cliffs with massive waves breaking below the climber threatening to take out the belayer. All the local climbers warn of rogue waves, making sure the belay ties himself to the rock on certain routes for fear of being swept away, and even tourists that drowned while scavenging for shells. Unfortunately for us the stories were the most exciting part as we were there for two days but the rain never let up enough to climb and we had an important date to keep with the Wild Foods Festival.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Payne's Ford and Able Tasman
We made it, somehow, from Murchison to Payne's Ford which is just south of Takaka. Leaving Murchison was tough for no other reason than we were both exhausted from the festival. One night of sleep is not nearly enough to recover from those kind of shenanigans. Not at this age. At the rate I'm going by the time I reach 35 it will take me a solid week to recover from the consumption of large volumes of alcohol. How anyone over that age still parties is beyond me.
So...two days later we made it to "Hangdog" which is the climbers' campground for the greater Payne's Ford climbing area. The place itself is pretty sweet, reflecting the ode' to nature and slight hippie flavor that permeates most of the New Zealand culture we've seen thus far. There are signs everywhere warning of how precious water is and to use as little as possible, everything is on the honor system as far as paying for camping and showers go, the campground (patrons and managers included) expect you to compost everything you can, there is a recycling section for everything (and I mean everything!), there are community bicycles, slack-line's hanging between trees, community fires at night, funny poetry on the bathroom walls, a semi-outdoor shower, vegetable gardens, chickens roaming throughout the place, and a slightly herbal scent wafting through the air on most days. Oh yeah, and there's always a few randoms doing yoga in the morning. It's nice and borderline over the top at the same time. I find myself waiting to see elves pop out of the bushes and dance a jig...or is that just the "air" having an effect on me...?
The climbing itself is amazing. Paynes consists of about 10 different walls all consisting of many routes and many grades. Slabs to long ceilings, traverses to dynos, it's all here and has really allowed Tim and I to step up our climbing. I had my first lead and Tim diligently stepped up his mettle to lead harder and harder routes. We met a really nice couple from British Columbia, Canada, named Jenny and Greg who climbed with us almost the entire time. We also had the good fortune of a couple of friends from Christchurch, Kelvin and Kelsey, coming up and climbing with us for two days; one at PF and one at Pohara.
Pohara is a rad little spot about 20 minutes north from Hangdog that consists of cliffs along the beach. There's not much more I can say about it. Good climbing and beautiful views. Once you get above the tree line on routes you can turn around to see the ocean and mountains in the background. It gains it's merit in that.
In our downtime we did two things:
1. Terrorize the local swimming hole where there were rope swings and a sick deep water solo traverse and,
2. Kill ourselves on the Able Tasman Coastal Track.
The Able Tasman is a National Park on the North part of the South Island. The Coastal Track itself is known as the most popular of the New Zealand Great Tracks. Once you're on it it's easy to see why. Around every corner is another amazing bay consisting of lush jungle, crystal clear blue/green water, picture perfect rocky coastlines, and sandy beaches. It is set up to be done in 3 or 4 days with the intention of doing short days, allowing yourself ample time to soak it up on some of the beaches. Because of the time constraint of Kelsey and Kelvin we decided to do it in two days. BIG mistake. On the track there are two tidal crossings that can only be made at low tide. This forced us to do 34 kilometers on the first day to make it in time, otherwise we would have had to take a third day. First day synopsis? Kelsey had 8 blisters. Tim made it 1/2 way before his ankles started killing him. I made it 3/4 of the way before a sudden pain in my foot. Even Kelvin, the tramper of the group, admitted to some soreness at the end of the day. But wait! It gets better... We woke the second morning on what was supposed to be our short day, about half the distance of the day previous, to a "Kelsey Realization" that we didn't have keys to our end vehicle. You see the track is not a loop. We had to drop a vehicle at the finish, about a 1.5 hour drive from the start. In the haste of our first (and early) morning we all (aka Kelsey) forgot to think about the keys required @ the finish line. How about them apples?!?! What? Did we beat her with obscenities and lashings of the painful sort? Did we cover her in honey and tie her to the nearest tree? Noooo... Firstly there are no bears in New Zealand so the honey and tied to a tree wouldn't work. Secondly we were all secretly jumping with joy because each of us knew that while this day was supposed to be 1/2 the distance of the previous, the previous was horrendously freaking long and this day was still going to be solid by hiking standards. Each of us knew deep down that oh yes, we could make it, but not barring the possibility of forward momentum Colby style (my brother's 9 month old son) by days end. So what did we do? The same thing any beat down hikers on the Able Tasman do! We called a water taxi!!! Yep, you heard right. We hiked 4 kilometers to the next main bay (the closest location that water taxis pick up) and we hopped on a boat which took us all the way back to where we started. In the end it was all worth the effort. We met some really cool people at the campground the night before, saw the moon rise over the ocean, slept to the sound of waves and wind, and got to take a 1 hour boat ride through rough seas in and out of the bays we'd seen the previous day (albeit from a different perspective), and did it all early enough to still have time for dinner at a local cafe. Meatlovers pizza and beer never tasted so good!
Oh yeah, did you know that the moon can make a rainbow in the rain at night? It sure can. We ended up going back to Hangdog that night for a place to camp and sure enough. It was pitch black out and raining on the horizon. The moon was just coming up and was so bright that it literally made a rainbow in the distant sky. Definitely something worth keeping an eye out for...
The latest album can be found here.
All of the pics from my New Zealand adventures can be found here.
So...two days later we made it to "Hangdog" which is the climbers' campground for the greater Payne's Ford climbing area. The place itself is pretty sweet, reflecting the ode' to nature and slight hippie flavor that permeates most of the New Zealand culture we've seen thus far. There are signs everywhere warning of how precious water is and to use as little as possible, everything is on the honor system as far as paying for camping and showers go, the campground (patrons and managers included) expect you to compost everything you can, there is a recycling section for everything (and I mean everything!), there are community bicycles, slack-line's hanging between trees, community fires at night, funny poetry on the bathroom walls, a semi-outdoor shower, vegetable gardens, chickens roaming throughout the place, and a slightly herbal scent wafting through the air on most days. Oh yeah, and there's always a few randoms doing yoga in the morning. It's nice and borderline over the top at the same time. I find myself waiting to see elves pop out of the bushes and dance a jig...or is that just the "air" having an effect on me...?
The climbing itself is amazing. Paynes consists of about 10 different walls all consisting of many routes and many grades. Slabs to long ceilings, traverses to dynos, it's all here and has really allowed Tim and I to step up our climbing. I had my first lead and Tim diligently stepped up his mettle to lead harder and harder routes. We met a really nice couple from British Columbia, Canada, named Jenny and Greg who climbed with us almost the entire time. We also had the good fortune of a couple of friends from Christchurch, Kelvin and Kelsey, coming up and climbing with us for two days; one at PF and one at Pohara.
Pohara is a rad little spot about 20 minutes north from Hangdog that consists of cliffs along the beach. There's not much more I can say about it. Good climbing and beautiful views. Once you get above the tree line on routes you can turn around to see the ocean and mountains in the background. It gains it's merit in that.
In our downtime we did two things:
1. Terrorize the local swimming hole where there were rope swings and a sick deep water solo traverse and,
2. Kill ourselves on the Able Tasman Coastal Track.
The Able Tasman is a National Park on the North part of the South Island. The Coastal Track itself is known as the most popular of the New Zealand Great Tracks. Once you're on it it's easy to see why. Around every corner is another amazing bay consisting of lush jungle, crystal clear blue/green water, picture perfect rocky coastlines, and sandy beaches. It is set up to be done in 3 or 4 days with the intention of doing short days, allowing yourself ample time to soak it up on some of the beaches. Because of the time constraint of Kelsey and Kelvin we decided to do it in two days. BIG mistake. On the track there are two tidal crossings that can only be made at low tide. This forced us to do 34 kilometers on the first day to make it in time, otherwise we would have had to take a third day. First day synopsis? Kelsey had 8 blisters. Tim made it 1/2 way before his ankles started killing him. I made it 3/4 of the way before a sudden pain in my foot. Even Kelvin, the tramper of the group, admitted to some soreness at the end of the day. But wait! It gets better... We woke the second morning on what was supposed to be our short day, about half the distance of the day previous, to a "Kelsey Realization" that we didn't have keys to our end vehicle. You see the track is not a loop. We had to drop a vehicle at the finish, about a 1.5 hour drive from the start. In the haste of our first (and early) morning we all (aka Kelsey) forgot to think about the keys required @ the finish line. How about them apples?!?! What? Did we beat her with obscenities and lashings of the painful sort? Did we cover her in honey and tie her to the nearest tree? Noooo... Firstly there are no bears in New Zealand so the honey and tied to a tree wouldn't work. Secondly we were all secretly jumping with joy because each of us knew that while this day was supposed to be 1/2 the distance of the previous, the previous was horrendously freaking long and this day was still going to be solid by hiking standards. Each of us knew deep down that oh yes, we could make it, but not barring the possibility of forward momentum Colby style (my brother's 9 month old son) by days end. So what did we do? The same thing any beat down hikers on the Able Tasman do! We called a water taxi!!! Yep, you heard right. We hiked 4 kilometers to the next main bay (the closest location that water taxis pick up) and we hopped on a boat which took us all the way back to where we started. In the end it was all worth the effort. We met some really cool people at the campground the night before, saw the moon rise over the ocean, slept to the sound of waves and wind, and got to take a 1 hour boat ride through rough seas in and out of the bays we'd seen the previous day (albeit from a different perspective), and did it all early enough to still have time for dinner at a local cafe. Meatlovers pizza and beer never tasted so good!
Oh yeah, did you know that the moon can make a rainbow in the rain at night? It sure can. We ended up going back to Hangdog that night for a place to camp and sure enough. It was pitch black out and raining on the horizon. The moon was just coming up and was so bright that it literally made a rainbow in the distant sky. Definitely something worth keeping an eye out for...
The latest album can be found here.
All of the pics from my New Zealand adventures can be found here.
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