100% Kiwi Adventure

As expected, there were some terrific events at the University, kicking off with a ride up the Skyline Gondola in Queenstown and dinner at a restaurant overlooking the city and lake. Just to get our appetites going, there was also street luging—riding down a course on the mountain on little luge carts. Awesome! Totally worth it to see a bunch of super-type-A entrepreneurs wearing helmets, giggling like little kids, and trying to ram each other.

We were welcomed to the university in traditional Maori style, with a haka.

Our next outing was even better: boarding the TSS Earnslaw, crossing Lake Wakatipu to the Walter’s Peak sheep station, and enjoying a fabulous BBQ on the shore of the lake as the sun dropped behind the mountains. The Earnslaw, one of the last passenger steamships in operation in the world, was commissioned to deliver people and goods to the remote stations (ranches) around the lake, many of which remain inaccessible by road. The station is now open for tours, meals, agricultural demonstrations, and cycling tours. I highly recommend both the boat journey and the station, if you’re in the neighborhood.

TBone and Pancho on board the Earnslaw, en route to Walter Peak.

  

The TSS Earnslaw heading out of Queenstown harbor.

Walter Peak Station on Lake Wakatipu.

The area surrounding Walter Peak.

We had another amazing experience on the Dart River, near the town of Glenorchy, where we rode in the jet boat upriver before “funyaking” back downriver. Jet boats are incredibly popular in New Zealand, where the jet boat engine was invented. They actually originated out of a practical need to transport supplies and sheep to inaccessible areas on extremely shallow rivers. Since the jet engine doesn’t use a propeller, it can function in around 4 inches of water. Now, of course, the boats serve a much less practical purpose, primarily whipping through canyons and river valleys filled with shrieking tourists, doing high-speed turns, and generally trying to scare the crap out of paying customers. Big fun. Though very cold the day we were out.

Jet boating on the Dart River. Notice how shallow the water is here.

View along the Dart River.

A side trip into a gorge along the Dart River.

Paddling through the side gorge.

The jet boat dropped us up the Dart River valley where we hopped into our funyaks—inflatable, idiot-proof, and (almost) tip-proof kayaks. We paddled back down the river, through some very mild, maybe class 2 rapids. It was a glorious day, though. Sunny and warm, with a perfect view of absolutely stunning mountains, waterfalls, and creeks. During our lunch break, we paddled up a tiny gorge, almost completely closed off from above, something you would never find on your own.
We finished off the University at the home of bungy jumping: AJ Hackett Bungy at Kawarau River. The Kawarau bridge was the first place anyone ever jumped and a number of EO folks—including TBone, Junior, and Pancho—took the plunge. When asked about the experience, all Pancho could say was “The split second my feet left the platform, all I could think of was:  WHAT HAVE I DONE!  There are no take-backs.”

Bungy jumping set-up, Kawarau Bridge.

View of the Kawarau River.

The ATL bungy boys ride the post-jump high: TBone, Junior, and Pancho.

Pining for the Fjords

We’re back in Queenstown for Entrepreneur’s Organization University, the “real” reason we’re in NZ, and we’ve seen some amazing things since our last post.
It was a tough trip to Queenstown from Wanaka. We went over the Crown Range, the highest paved road in NZ. Fortunately, we were going the easy direction. Though that still meant we had a 40 km climb, that got much steeper at the top. I had to get off and push for the last kilometer and Pancho for the last 500m. I was moving so slowly I was about to fall over, which on a super narrow road with no shoulder would surely mean getting run down by a campervan full of tourists. Of course, going up the easy side meant a screaming descent on the other side. You know it’s bad when you can smell your brakes burning out. We rewarded ourselves with lunch and cider in Arrowtown, an historic mining town on the outskirts of Queenstown.

The road we rode up...

At the top of the Crown Range

The road ahead. Check your brakes now!

We woke up in our tent in Queenstown to rain, cold, and unbelievably sore legs. This prompted a little conference regarding the cycling plan and led to the formulation of plan B.
We hopped on the bus to Te Anau, the gateway to Fiordland National Park, one of the most spectacular and remote areas in NZ. We had originally planned to cycle there, but then came plan B. It would have been two very long days on the bike, and our intel revealed that there would be a serious headwind for most of the way. Once we were on the bus, we were very pleased with plan B: the route was much hillier than we had thought and the even the bus struggled through the stiff winds. The only drawback for me was that we had planned to camp on an alpaca farm along the way, and I was weirdly excited about it. Fortunately, I made up for the wildlife viewing the next day.
Te Anau is a backpacker’s haven. It’s the starting point for several of the “Great Walks,” as they call some of the iconic hiking trails here, including the most famous of all, the Milford Track. (Trails are tracks; hiking is tramping) We felt right at home, with everyone walking around in boots, with packs and gear, either heading out or just coming in from the trail. There is also a big grocery store (not common in most of the smaller towns here) that is re-supply central.
Instead of hiking, on this trip we were on the water, going kayaking on Milford Sound, one of the most beautiful places in the country. The Fiordland NP has 16 sounds, with Milford being the only one accessible by road. There are a fair number of small cruise boats and tour boats there, but paddling is definitely the best way to see the sound. Technically, the sounds are all fjords, a sound being a river valley filled in by seawater and a fjord being a glacial valley. Apparently, the Kiwis compensated for the mistake by naming the Park properly, though they then misspelled it.

The Homer Tunnel, en route to
Milford Sound.

The road down from the Homer Tunnel.

Nomenclature aside, the Sound is spectacular. We paddled through an area only accessible to kayaks at high tide that was like entering a primordial forest. There were branches hanging down across the water, covered with moss and orchids. Afterwards, we headed out into the Sound proper. The day started out rainy, which is a mixed blessing at Milford. The water was flat and perfect for paddling, But best of all, there were waterfalls everywhere. The Sound is surrounded by sheer mountains, and after rain, water pours down the rock faces, so there are streams of all sizes cascading down all around you.

Milford Sound.

Bowen Falls, the largest permanent
waterfall at Milford Sound.

Pancho and Nachita on the water.

I also got in my wildlife quota to make up for missing the alpacas. Lots of young male seals live in the Sound, before they’re able to compete for the females in the colonies out on the coast. In the kayaks, we were able to get really close and just sit watching them. Now, we also know that there are animals lazier than our cats.

Milford seal.

Lazy beasts.

We had another wildlife encounter on the ride back to Te Anau—with the notorious kea, the naughty parrot of the South Island. We stopped at The Chasm, a river channel with amazing rock formations, and found a kea patrolling the parking lot, looking for snacks or cars to eat. Apparently, rental car agreements here contain a clause denying responsibility for kea damage. Yikes!

Looking down into the Chasm. Off
the Milford Road.

Naughty parrot.

Don't feed the kea if you want to keep
your finger.

Now we’re happily ensconced at the hotel in Queenstown—it’s been raining all night and day, so we’re very happy to not be in the tent. There are some great events planned, and we will be braving the rain this afternoon for a ride on the Shotover Jet Boat. Keep following along!

A Stiff Shot of Reality

Today, we admitted we bit off a bit more than we could chew on the cycling portion of our trip. It is exactly like our first week on the AT—we way over-estimated our miles. Not to mention the fact that here, there is so much to see, a photo-op around every curve, and pushing big miles every day doesn’t allow for many stops. We’re behind schedule already, since we only made it to Franz Josef today. So we’re hopping a bus tomorrow, heading for Wanaka, and a long, hilly ride into Queenstown on Saturday.

Poerua River, south of Hari Hari.

On the shore of Lake Wahapo, between Hari Hari and Franz Josef.

The ride today was spectacular, going through rainforest on the way to a glacier. It’s amazing how steep and heavily forested the mountains are. We rode through corridors of rainforest today (a return to the green tunnel), with towering trees covered with hanging bromeliads and steep slopes with gigantic ferns cascading down them. Then we would cross a broad, rocky riverbed, with a stream clearly coming down from the glacier. Now, we’re in the village of Franz Josef (disturbingly like a Kiwi-scale Gatlinburg), with the glacier hovering above us and rainforest all around. Surreal.

Approaching the Franz Josef Glacier.

Fortunately, the scenery was astounding, because we moved into more hills today. I have to admit—we got our asses kicked today. It was just one of those days when we both felt totally out of gas, which is not good when you’re going over Mt. Hercules. On the plus side, we were at least traveling in the easy direction. But still. There were rest stops, There was bitching and moaning. There was Pancho shouting at me to leave him and save myself. Not our best day. So we’ll take tomorrow off, do some laundry, rest our legs, and start strong on Saturday. We’ll check in again when we get to Queenstown.

On the Road Again….

Saturday afternoon, we headed out on our next adventure—three action-packed weeks in New Zealand. Technically, we’re going to the Entrepreneur’s Organization conference in Queenstown, but that’s really only an excuse.
I was really dreading the flight: 5 hours to LAX, then 12+ to Auckland, then another short hop to Christchurch on the South Island. It turned out to be better than expected, but still a terribly long couple of days. One highlight of the trip was the Air New Zealand safety video. Now, we have long been fans of the Delta video, watching attentively while our friend Frank demonstrates proper seatbelt technique and Deltalina works her dominatrix mojo to stop smoking on-board. But I have to admit, Air New Zealand wins hands-down for the most wondrously wacky safety video. They have smoking hot All Blacks. They have body paint (consider yourself lucky, Frank!). But most importantly, they have Richard Simmons, in all his spastic, thinning afro, inappropriately short shorts, glory. Richard Simmons—epic!
We finally arrived in Christchurch and picked up our rental bikes and touring gear. After quickly reorganizing our enormous amounts of stuff, we set out for our B and B, in the central city. Of course, that was more adventurous than expected, since we were riding on the other side of the road and with loaded bikes for the first time. We made it without incident to the lovely Orari B and B. It was actually challenging to find lodging in Christchurch, since so many properties in the central city were destroyed or severely damaged by the earthquakes in 2010 and 2011. There is still a large section of the city cordoned off and inaccessible due to the instability of the buildings. We saw a number of beautiful, historic structures that have been irreparably damaged or will take years to repair. We didn’t see that much in Christchurch—we walked around the city center for a bit, then through the Botanical Gardens, which are truly spectacular. Unfortunately, we were too tired from the trip to really enjoy the city.

Turret in Christchuch earthquake zone.

Christchurch Botanical Gardens Conservatory.
Currently closed due to earthquake damage.

Christchurch Botanical Gardens.

The following morning, we set out in the rain to the train station to catch the Tranzscenic Alpine train across the South Island to Greymouth. This is considered one of the most spectacular train trips in the world. Unfortunately for us, it was a dreary, rainy day, so many of the mountains were obscured by clouds. It was still pretty spectacular, though, and I would highly recommend the journey. 

View from the Tranzalpine Train from
Christchurch to Greymouth.

View from the Tranzalpine Train from
Christchurch to Greymouth.

Viaduct on the Tranzalpine route between
Christchurch and Greymouth.

Once we arrived in Greymouth, it was time to hop on the bikes and head south to Queenstown. Fortunately, we started with an easy, flat, 40km pedal to Hokitika. For much of the ride, we were going along the coastline, watching the surf crash into the beach. We’re planning to camp for the biking section of the trip, so we headed to the Hokitika Holiday Park.

Coastal view between Greymouth and Hokitika.

Taking a break en route to Hokitika.

Hokitika beach sign.

It’s in many ways like being out on the trail again. There are loads of other cyclists touring here, and it’s great to meet other folks. Unfortunately, it’s also far too like the beginning of the hike. We feel like we’re starting over in so many ways—figuring out our systems, organizing our gear, adjusting to a very different physical activity. Today, we were supposed to go 134km to Franz Josef, one of the large glaciers here on the South Island. We didn’t quite make it, instead pulling up early in Hari Hari. We have a lot of pains today. Legs, butts, backs, you name it, it hurts. So now, we’re behind schedule, but we’ll figure something out. Happily, there is bus service all along our route to Queenstown, and we may have to avail ourselves of it. For the moment, we’re enjoying some local cider in the pub at the Hari Hari Motor Inn and I’m sure it will be an early evening. Much like the AT, 6:30PM is a perfectly acceptable time to go to bed.

En route to Hari Hari.

Pancho on the move.

Heads up!

Hey y'all! We're heading out again on Saturday, for New Zealand this time. We'll be cycling, caving (with glowworms!), hiking, sailing, and kayaking. We'll also be updating the blog to keep the Vicarious Living going. Check in. Keep up. Enjoy.

Back to reality...

Sadly, the real world calls. So today, I'm catching up on the last bits of our hike from the waiting room at the VW dealer, while my little wagon is being serviced. Sorry for not posting in a while, but things have been a wee bit hectic since we finished. I'm backtracking to include some photos from our last few days before Thanksgiving. My parents came to pick us up outside of Franklin, NC the Friday before Thanksgiving so that we would have time to prepare for our house-load of people. Our last couple of nights in NC before the holiday break were seriously cold and windy, really pushing the limits of all of our gear. It was definitely a welcome return to central heating and hot showers.

On a fire tower, near Wayah Bald, NC.

On our last hiking day before Thanksgiving, we found some very
welcome trail magic, in the form of trail angel Apple (I think that's his
name--I'm drawing a blank). We sat with him and ate hot dogs, cookies,
and cold Cokes--awesome!

 

We were thrown off schedule by Puppygate, taking 2 days off for our impromptu maternity leave. We had planned to summit Springer on Saturday, Dec. 3, so that some of our friends and my parents could join us for the final mile. We decided to stick with that plan and stay an additional 2 days to make up the miles we had missed. There was a brief discussion of coming back at a later time to finish, but we decided that it would be far too easy to put it off indefinitely.

Lunchbreak. Hiking in north Georgia should not look like this....

We had a great day at Springer. The hike up to the mountain was absolutely beautiful, following a lovely creek through rhododendron groves. As we were hiking, we wondered where our buddy Beanpole was on the trail, figuring that he had to be getting close to the end. When we walked into the parking lot near the top of Springer, I saw a couple of hikers coming down the trail from the summit. Strangely familiar hikers. Beanpole! And John Wayne! They were with Beanpole's dad, who had come from Alabama to pick him up at the finish. So there were hugs and beers and stories to tell in the parking lot before they headed back to Birmingham.

With Beanpole and John Wayne. We made it!

The best part of the day was meeting up with our friends and family. Many thanks to Greg for organizing our little tailgate welcome-home party. It meant so much to us that he and Erin gave up football tickets and made the long drive to the mountains to share the experience with us. My parents were also there and even made the mile-long hike to the summit--having them there at the end was really special.

I am so thankful that we have such wonderful memories of that day on Springer. Tragically, we learned yesterday that our buddy John Wayne was killed in an accident over the weekend, while hiking with Beanpole in Alabama. I didn't know him that long or that well, yet I feel so saddened by this. Maybe because he was so young. Maybe because he had just completed a life-changing experience that would happen to be his last. I don't know why. But he was doing something he loved with people he loved, and I suppose that should be some comfort. He will certainly be missed.

Erin rocks her sexy lumberjack look on Springer.

Mountaintop celebration.

 

With Erin and Greg at the summit.

 

With my folks at Springer--the best trail parents ever!

 

Here comes the cuteness...

I don't think any text will be needed for this.