golden bay retreat.

Pictures pending....

done with finals at last, I set out with Phoebe to wwoof at the top of the south island. The morning of our hitchhiking adventure I got word of a mate from the climbing club who was driving up. After some hasty communications arrangements were made and suddenly I had an extra hour to look a few more things up and then get lost on the bus going to Phoebes! Then the long 7 hour drive. Peter, he is so named, was well versed in geography and taught me tidbits, and shared his vast expertise, including some interesting earthquake trivia. We stopped at a wonderful uplift of limestone with a massive cascade. Really cool water carved paths and mini-cascades at the lip. down to the right a massive eddy formed a mosaic of driftwood:

whole trees, large branches and twigs swirling around - I was keen to try and run on that floating mosaic. We contemplated diving off into the opposite, empty, eddy, but admired instead. We enjoyed the cool breeze and respite from roasting in the sun which beams through the car windows.

CLIMBING

Another few hours and at last we arrived in golden bay. Pete was nice enough to stop in and meet the lincoln group of climbers etc. at the Top Ten camp spot. Phoebe and I stayed, expecting to later go camp by a bridge outside of takaka. Instead we stayed late, no one went to the pub to drop us of in town, the beach was gorgeous and 30m away - so we set up the tent and stayed. Walking back along the beach I saw a great long shooting star to the south east, falling sharply.

The next few nights bore more shooting stars. Solitary wonderings from the toilet by way of the beach, pausing often to stare up at the sky - once I belatedly passively and slightly awkwardly acknowledged a couple cuddling on a log myself having paused some meters away for a few minutes. Final nights with the lincoln crew lying on the beach and watching waiting laughing drinking sleeping shivering. The reason being the Geminide Meteor shower. It was active at that time with the peak forecasted for the 17th (wednesday). Some were unlucky and saw none, those days at pohara I saw several, though none spectacular - just cause for giddy grins.

The days saw adventures about the limestone along with much water interaction. Mornings I went to the beach for Yoga, a walk, a headstand, Phoebe joined me and I guided her through my routine. Long breakfasts and sharing of food. The first limestone: Pohara sea cliffs had nice climbs: including Phoebe's first ever and some solid leads for myself. Fun sloped friction with the occasional pocket. One I especially recall had a an interesting series of sharp small jugs on a diagonal with a big move finish over vertical featureless smooth ripples to a small lip. Mark and chris showed up and all smiled. Phoebe made some lovely sketches and venga was said to get Juan to tackle the leads. After those climbs we ventured down to a beach to flounder in the waves, plus short body surfs, back-floating, and odd fish-crawling in the shallows. Then on the sand making body sculpture,

dancing, playing with driftwood. At pohara beach before dinner phoebe and I explore the drawing of circles in sand with toes and wander down the beach in a most gorgeous sunset, illuminating bugs in trees and going through so many stages, plus reflecting off pools of water.

More limestone at Paynes ford was tougher but still cool, the views less magnificent. Carnage wall is interesting, tricky - you have to pay attention and patiently work things out. Tried to tackle a harder overhanging climb there, but the moves to slopers were big and the overhang too much. Still fun to play around, working in the sun certainly got the sweat flowing and soon all the guys had their shirts off. Liz came up and joined us all, and I scrambled up to a high vantage to take some photos. Liz succeeded in topping out on her first climb, getting past the tricky bits with some verbal motivation. From my little cave I greeted her as she came over the last ledge - surprise! Then folks settled into lunch and I tried to take advantage of my interesting high angle.

As folks packed up and moved on to a different wall Phoebe and I went down to explore the swimming hole. Two massive limestone boulders set in the middle of the river create a nice pool and numerous diving opportunities. The limestone itself is carved with horizontal waves and folds cutting vertically in. These folds create some caves at waterline - which have nice base resonance. The folds terminate as pinnacles in the air with ridges that snake down from the flat topped - tree covered boulders. I do some dives, a few flips. Getting out of the pools I try some deep water soloing boulder problems. The holds are often sharp and those under water slimy. Getting out of the water you suddenly feel much heavier but get slightly lighter as water drains from swim trunks. The water is cold, and though refreshing on that hot day not the most comfortable for hanging out in. I climb on the rocks a bit more, explore some interesting arches/holes/caves. Phoebe settles down to read and bask in the sun and I head off to do a bit more climbing.

Two climbs at the next wall, both really nice with friction to help when you need it but otherwise graceful big moves to small or awkward pockets. The second had a simple looking start but from the wall the angles are all wrong and it just doesn't quite work so smoothly.

Before the climbs though I go off with rosa to give liz space to climb. We wander off looking for lions and checking out the rock. When we get my backpack from carnage wall Rosa wants to take a ride. So I rearrange things and set her inside. Then I walked slowly back, her sticking up out of the bag, her hands appearing over my shoulders to direct the way. Some interesting little nooks, high cliffs on either side and filled with one or two large ferns, one was too narrow for us to enter. Rosa tired of her perch and we returned to the others normally.

Liz, after several attempts got up the tricky one on the right and was exhausted but radiating. The day was getting on and we wanted to move so it was my turn to quickly get up the climbs and clean em up. I forgot to mention that since swimming I had remained in just my boxers - so throwing on a harness and heading up the climbs I looked a bit bare =D. Good fun and I of-course only noticed when others reminded me. I had grabbed Juan’s harness bag and relieved him of stress when I returned it to him as we were packing up and after he had been quietly searching for it - oops. Leaving we ran into James who had come up for a bit of climbing, but slightly injured himself, and was heading back to chch. Small world.

Off to the Mussel Inn where we enjoyed good food and beer and cheer. I ordered my first fish. Arguments about cucumbers. Kids swinging on a tire swing that looks like it’s about to break apart and kill someone. Darkness falls and we indulge in yummy sweat which passa round the table endlessly. Rosa not feel so well. Then to the fire to warm up and converse: sharing memories, debating philosophy. Mark and chris show up again.

It’s the last evening and back at camp we gather on the beach to enjoy the stars. Lying on a blanket we hold out in cold air - radiating our heat to the dark heavens above. Orion, the pleiades, no southern cross. I point out my spider and the dancing man. A few shooting stars are seen, Anna sees none. Hands find their way to odd places and “whose hand is that” interrupts from time to time. No ghost stories are wanted, Phoebe tells a true story and Juan breaks in to frighten and surprise everyone. He’s rebuffed and everyone laughs and accuses him of foul play. Phoebe continues, Juan intrudes. Conversation moves on, final drinks and words of farewell are uttered, the chill creeps in. As we lie a moment in greater silence Juan sees fit to frighten us all again. One by one the cold gets us and people disappear into the night. Phoebe and I lie a bit longer under the stars, but no more fall to great us. I ruminate on moments and memory. Gazing at the stars I ask if she has ever called forth a star. I then tell her how to find a space of darkness - to then travel through it untill your vision is consumed by a star there. Then you drag the star with you as you rush backwards out of the darkness with your vision and concsiousness bringing it to shine alongside all the other stars in the sky. We turn in as-well, finding sweet sleep and the vivid dreams camping brings.

THe group goes on a final adventure at Paynes ford: a dip at the swimming hole even if it is overcast and not as warm as we hoped. More small world meetings at the entrance and a slack slackline for me to quickly prance on, and my attempt to surf ends in fantastic face-smash dismount. I Sheepishly bow out and continue to the pools. And lo! There is Peter and UC3 folks setting up a high line over the water, sweet as! I am not a fan of their tightening method of shoving sticks between the rock and the rope however - one of those sticks will snap and poke an eye out! I do like their truckers hitch thingy though, but have to take it down in favor of a Z drag to get the line acceptably tight. I then take the first walk. A tricky mount as it sags a bit and drags on the rock for the first step. Then it’s a normal line, if a little loose, with a 2.5m drop to the water below and wonderfully sharp and sculpted lime stone walls on either side - mint. Halfway across I bail with a graceful dive into the water. Others try and quickly bail from near the cliff into the water. The water is cool, and I probly wouldn’t have swum in ordinary conditions. To get out one chooses a simple bouldering problem to climb out of the water and to the top. I have a few more runs, walking back and forth and throw down some tricks. I do some turns, attempt a 360 walk about. I lunge, kneel, then sit, stand up walk about some more, than fluidly drop through sitting to lie down. I then get on my belly and do some twists. I do some bottom mounts and have some more nice diving dismounts into the water. Climbing on the rocks I scrape my knee and bleed. Steel gets on and has a nice run, the only other to walk the full line and turn around. Liz goes kiwi and gives it a go as well, takes a few shuddering steps and with a YEAAW falls down into the waters below. HOW brave!

WWOOFING

As the others drive south and return to christchurch Anna und Jacob give phoebe and I a ride up to our woofing place. Anna und Jacob are intrigued by the sign and glances through the gate and come with us to the door where Clair greets us with trepidation and then gives us a a little tour. The garden with a fire pit, various grassy areas seperated by tall grasses and flowers, a few picnic benches. On a hill a water fountain falls into a pool and then drains down a little stream to a marshy area. Behind the veggie garden spirals about, the labaryth arms forming a key shape as they wend theier way to the center. One half of the key is covered with garlic, the rest covered mostly in weeds. Miko, another wwoofer, was working her way around the path - clearing it of weeds. Drums made by Grant and art by all the family decorate the large and spacious barn. Kites and other sculptures hang from the cieling, rocks and crystals line window sills and collect on the fire mantal. Anna and Jacob head off to continue their journey to farewell spit and phoebe and I go about settling in. Cleaning the paths, and moving into the bus. We stay in an old bus that had been outfitted with stove, bed, and other niceties. The interior and exterior were both wonderfuly colorfuly and creativly painted, a tree above the bed, geometrics near the windows, swirls off the front and down the sides on the exterior. The shelves and window sills were covered in an assortment of shells, a collection to which I contributed each time I returned from the beach. Grant, our host, returned and there was some confusion as to who we were, as we had been vague regarding our arrival and weren’t really expected, whoops. But we cleared that up and weatherised the top of the bus with a big plastic sheet so it wouldn't leak in the rain (which never came).

We worked a relaxed schedule, waking aorund 9 and slowly greeting the day. Stretch and minimal yoga movement, a headstand attempt or two. Breakfasts of primarily oats with some peanut butter and apple for me, though I discovered an interesting combination of corn flakes, hot water, instant oats, and coco powder which made a delicious soggy meal, and there was toast as well. After mowing the lawns and tidying up the garden in general we began to clear the veggie garden. Working our way around day by day we cleared out all the weeds. We dug deep in the ground and turned the soil, burrying the top roots down deep. Then we covered it all with layers of compost, trucking load after load accross the lawn from the other side of the house in the wheel barrow. We worked hard in the sun, sweating and getting bit by sand flies as cows mooed and watched from across the fence. After a few days of working side by side mostly silently we had finished and had orderly beds and weed free paths to show for it.

After our five hours each day we would wash up and then head down to the beach. Ambling barefoot down the gravel road the first night we learned our lesson and wore shoes from then on. Our first trip was made with amy, that wandering Krishna, who I somehow always know where to run into. Wonderful stories, on fantasy - one second friends the next disowned for bad taste - then on language and the warmth of kiwi speech. Wading through the shallow waters of the bay that go for kilometers we ponder where we would go if all the world's oceans were only knee deep, waist deep at the most. And where would you sleep? A wizard I am with my staff and Phoebe having sunk into the mud a midget beside my tall figure. A crystal orb floats about and then rests lightly on the staff as sunset light and clouds begin to take form.

Grant warns us of sting rays that may lurk in the sun warmed waters, but on later journeys to the beach we find only shells and soft sand. Ah yes the soft sand! On the water’s edge the sand is suspended and the feet pass unfeeling through it to another layer of firmness. when disturbed bubbles come forth from the sand: zigzagging in merriment to pop on the surface. Another layer consists of thousands of shells which crack and crunch underfoot. This layer is repeated several times and can be seen as a shifting white mosaic under the shallow waters and in other places holds out against the blowing sands of the sand bar islands which appear occasionally. Though it was windy not once did I fly my kite. I enjoyed the waves, the shells the drift wood and movements of the tide under the illumination and enhancment of the evening light.

One night Phoebe’s friend joined us and we wandered down the road to another beach. No one offered to pick us up in the dark so we wandered the 5 or so km in the dark staring up at the stars. The beach was long calm sandy and bathed in moonlight. I explored for a camp sight, found one and then returned to the others and we all went for a dip in the sea in the waxing moonlight - cold but lovely. I then led them off the soft sands through large sea rounded rocks and to jaggaed sharp coral like rock. The low tide allowed us acccess to a small stretch of sand littered with drift wood. We set our things above the super high tide line denoted by driftwood near the gorse and then dragged rocks into a circle and gathered driftwood for a fire. Skillfully pilling little twigs and some of the dead gorse I got a one match fire; well, on the third attempt. I needed to add a bit more small stuff before I had enough kindling for the larger and entirety to catch. We sat around, enjoyed marshmellows (I used a long stick of near 3 meters in length just to be rediculous) and watched the clouds drift in and illuminate in the moonlight. I saw one nice meteor fall strait down twords the ocean in the north but no others were seen. We enjoyed the fire and the cold night eventually sent us to bed. I stayed abit longer minding the fire and became absolutly entranced by the glowing coals left without flickering harsh flame. A shimmering mass which responeded in waves to the breeze and drew the eyes in to be lost. I stared and held my hands over that circle of red softness for near an hour before shakily looking up to find the moon had set (at about the time I had casually predicted as we walked) and went and spread my sleeping bag out on a tarp in the sand under the patchy stars. The morning woke me with a few hungrey sand flies which I kept away by draping my shirt over the sleeping bag opening. We made our way back to the farm along the coast, which had interesting sedimentary layers and more crunching shells, t0 continued to work the garden.

The reward for our efforts was planting seeds and plants at the end of the day and admiring the clean and ordered labyrinth of beds spread before us. Each day brought a fresh patch of order and our meals (of Chickpeas, soup, nachoes, tofu quinoa, pasta) with Grant, Clair, Ananda, Makunda and Miko were rewards truly earned as well. YUM. Evenings were spent leisurely bidding the day farewell as Golden Bay rang golden in another magnificent sunset of oranges painting the west and shimmering pinks under the mackerel clouds. Then some reading or talking with folks, one conversation with Clair on tramping then on dance and movement was particularly wonderful. She always had a dancing, smiling, and eager spirit and energy. I always spent some minutes before bed staring up at the stars, admiringg the southern cross and trying to find other constillations - fixing my own created ones firmly in mind. I never saw another shooting star during those times, but the sky was often clear and though chilly those moments before the soft warmth of the bed in the bus added to the serenity of those days.

FAREWELL SPIT

Before departing I commited to visit farewell spit. After the morning's work I hit the road, getting a ride from a handy man bringing unwanted pizza to his kid, a mother and her three children heading to their bach, and a family with with a daughter my age out to stay at a bach as well. The last folks drove me up the dirt road to the trail head to wharariki beach. I was sad to end my conversation with that lass who had friends in boulder and who I would have liked to connect with more, but I let it go. The short walk passes first through a sheep station, the hills former sand dunes with the odd solitary tree bent by the wind. Then into a touch of bush, which one rushes through, eagerly following the sand appearing on the path. Then one walks down a hill to the bank of a stream, ahead the back of a dune looms. Climbing through the sparse grasses on the dune you crest the dune and a valley of sorts, of pure soft almond sand, leads down to the beach and frames the rocks of wharariki. I stroll down and take my time exploring the shore, the waves crashing on beach, coastal rock, and the rock outcroppings. I leave my backpack to collect sand in the blowing wind and take only my camera to seek out some shots. A large crag of rock has an arch and stands solitarily isolated from the land. Further down the beach rocks reach out into the sea which has broken a few channels into the massive block which form hallways from high tide to low tide. Walking through these with the low tide I admire the scuttling crabs and various mussle and snail species clining to the jagged rock walls. The rock is a sort of conglomerate; a jagged matrix rock with rounded river stones of many sizes strewn through in various concentrations. Arches are formed in places as are some long tunnels. Going through one I noticed a side tunnel branching off beck left into leding to darkness. I was drawn in and wandered down it, the light slowly fading untill just a pinpoint remained behind me, then about a corner it vanished but another light was revealed from the darkness. I found myself returned to the sea, after dancing/climbing through the branches of a drift wood tree stuck in the tunnel entrance. The tide patterns on a second beach were amazing to watch as they evolved and danced. A cave sometimes nearly submerged at high tide presented echoes to enjoy and dripping water rhythms. At the far end of this beach I found a seal, which I noticed only as it reared its head and smiled a toothy snarling smile at at me. It’s presence explained the smell which I would become familiar with in exploring Abel Tasman. Soft blubbery thing, didn't move much, half rolled over or bent it’s head backwards to look at me but otherwise lay there and blinked an eye lazily at me as I gave it space. *click* even if not a good photo in the cloudy light it’s a memory I might as well get on film. I stopped at an odd little isolated split in the rock to hand stand on hard sand nearby. I ended up walking on my hands a bit and making confusing tracks in the sand. Then I stumbled upon the oddest sand-rock sculptures of nature. Rocks and small pieces of wood were suspended on small pedestals of sand with streamlined - wind blown - curves rooting into the ground. Just a few centimeters off the surrounding ground and scattered in a 3 meter by 15 meter area. Absolutly amazing.

I had mostly ignored the matter of getting back to the farm, but as I went back to the main beach through a sort of gate with the tide coming in it nagged. On the beach I saw a couple ambling my way, when they passed I inquired as to their later destination and if they could give me a lift. Indeed they would be returning to Takaka later so that was my problem solved! I advised them to the opportunities behind me and bid them take thier time and enjoy while I continued on to enjoy the main beach which I had only briefly taken in earlier. I went into the large cave there, a large log attempts to seal the entrance, but doesnt quite cover a fourth of it. Seen from behind it stands out wonderfully against the sea and cliffs beyond. A pair of swooping swallows performed a good show for me: dipping in and out of the cave, back and fourth and swirling around, sharply turning, perhaps resting a moment on the log. A smaller cave closer to the water contained another seal in one of it’s side chambers. I let it slumber and retrieved my kite to fly in the steady wind.

Karl of german descent but of england returns with anna and has a go flying the kite. We then sit in the blowing sand enjoying the elements and conversing. At last we decide to leave, the wind having found it’s way in to chill our bones, back over the dunes and through the bush. On the sheep hills I share my need to prance as an elf and we contrive silly ways of making a costume from flax or grass. Perhaps I should catch a sheep and run wildly with it slung over a shoulder to give the short clip a bit more flare. Alas it was all in the mind. They stopped breifly at the start of farewell spit so I could look out and see how that massive sand bar goes on for ever, dunes extending and curving right - trying to close in the bay - and then ending with a little stand of trees. There was also a whale skeleton set up in the yard which was a most gracefull sculpture to admire, even in the intermitency of the bones the soft curve of the whale and the sleek interaction with water was spelled out. We stopped at the Mussel Inn for a beer, played some cards (threes), then Peter and other small world aquantinces appeared and we played Jenga outside. Darkness having fallen we ventured across the road and down a short path untill stars revealed themselves in the bush to our right. The land rises suddenly there in small cliffs where glow worms send down their gooey strands to catch flies. At night their glowing bellies attract bugs and poke holes of light into the night which confuse the weary or pissed traveler’s sense of direction. Gravity asserts itself however and when someone trips and stumbles reaching for the supposed stars they realize they are indeed glowworms. Thus ended the night, I arrived late at Grant's and quietly joind Phoebe who was still reading in bed.

The next day was market day, and after a quick breki and helping to set up I hit the road to get back to christchurch. A van full of 8 kids, all of one family with the 19 yr old brother driving, took me to Motueka. A nice walk past roses and an ride offer to nelson by some chicas later a farmer stops and brings me past his farm Woodstock. At that road junction a campervan stopped and took me in. Never one to pass up Arthur's Pass I continued with them, rather than taking Lewis Pass, and enjoyed the scenic stops along the way, though I left my notepad and tiny at a beach where a sweet woman and her daughter were collecting wonderful rocks. In the pass I met Julie from CU boulder and advised them where to camp and what to do the next day. I wanted to try to get to chch and as dusk turned to night I thought I would wait for one last car. That last car stoped and squeezed me between a four yr old girl and a 14 month boy. A pleasant ride with those kiwi’s though the children became tired, moody, and vocal by the end. He dropped me at my doorstep and I walked in to find Liz and the flat enjoying a movie. As good as the sunshine of the bay was, the cozy home was a sweet thing to be back in with all its wonderful people.

study thoughts

Finally done, the cramming of the last few weeks is over, along with my cyclical periods of study weeks and weekend tramps. I had a relatively light semester that allowed me to have so many weekend adventures. This was not entirely true however, the required work load was light but I under valued the suggested readings and study of my papers. As a result I felt I had learned very little during the semester and the last weeks of studying have been a lot more learning than reviewing. The importance of small practice problems and continuous review during the semester comes into focus. Especially for my Glaciology class. I thought we would need to know more specific knowledge and tidbits about glacial process; but the exam was focused on theoretical developments, specific field studies and observations, and the linkages these studies show between various glacial processes. I wish I had kept up in the readings as I really like reading glaciology papers, I just have a hard time remembering the important facts of them all.

I also really don't like writing essays for exams. I am a slow writer, especially under pressure, and also have a difficult time organizing my thoughts. I fear the essay about biofuels in new zealand for my energy engineering class went very poorly. I did really like researching it, and wouldn't have minded writing an essay on it normally, but my thoughts got all jumbled and I ran out of time in the exam.

Well it's all past now, and it was all pass fail. I'm sure I passed and now I can apply better study habits to my future studies (speaking of lessons I just registered for 6 classes again for next semester and I believe I decided that was a bad idea last semster...)

Study hard!

some castle hill

coming through the snow covered lowlands before castle hill

I took the day mostly off from studying to spend time with friends and enjoying the beauty of castle hill. Has an early night the night prior since the festivities of Guy Faukes day got rained out. Instead of a BBQ and fireworks with folks I procrastinated studying at home and did a bit of sphere-play before a relatively early bed. Which meant a relatively early morning, during which I said fairwell to Fabian the austrian couch-surfer of the last month, made a huge serving of porridge, made tea and forgot to drink it, and started to read an glaciology article. The ducks were up though and I soon abandoned study to play with them.

Liz arrived shortly with Max and Abby and Rosa. We gathered in the lounge and watched the ducklings eat and run around in the middle. They are from a farm and pets really, Rowena just looking after the few week old critters for the weekend. Rosa was excited at first, but soon lost interest, while us adults were gigling away at the silly antics of the ducks. They started sprinting hither and thither: one doing laps around the towel on the floor, the other just charging strait across and then back again, sometimes blasting through the water bowl and spilling the water all over. Occasionally a yellow fuzz ball would trip over the edge of the tupperware container full of food and do a face plant into food-yummy. They huddled together at times, linking puffed out chests and flapping tiny underdeveloped wings.

But time to go, so we piled in the car and off to castle hill! The way had shortcuts (obvious and non), coffee and scone, DJ, sitting on the roof, snow covered hills at porters pass, and our arrival to blue skies at castle hill. The sun started coming out in bits as we settled into a spot. Weather had been rain and snow the past few days but the rocks were dry, the air dry and cool, and the breeze mitigated amongst the boulders. We were late in arriving but so were others, and Richard's car wasn't there. The spot matt wanted to take us to was taken, but we went back later. A kid from Ywam joined us as we tackled some easy things, and lent us a second pad in the process. All short stuff, but descent and I had fun just moving around and trying things.

Rosa and I also went on some little adventures. Off to get on top of the boulders (so many of them have an edge that can be walked up). To look into the potholes pockmarking the tops of them. stopping at some of the water filled ones to splash a bit, to skip some flakes, to test water temperature. We settled into some nice round bowls that cradled our rumps and backs perfectly, taking in some sun. Then to check if there are lions in the shrubs growing in the shady nooks of any boulders. I found a nice grassy patch where the boulder band-shelled over to form a nice shelter, but Rosa thought the grass was wet.

Some more climbs, attempts to establish enough friction to wriggle past overhanging hold-less mantels. Shoes were swapped, and I found a pair sizes too small that just fit... and had potential to break in well, but I'll keep to my own while they last. Shared lunch as well. no knives lead to the use of celery for spreading hummus and peanut butter. We tackled a crazy odd problem in this massive bowl that arched over us. only matt could top out (I might have if id given it a few more gos) as you needed the right bit of length and flexibility to first balance eon a ledge, then spread legs wide underneath, and again slightly above before going for a tiny finger pocket and then a delicate thrust to the lip of the bowl. cool.

Rosa also got some climbing in. Hanging off a nice jug for a bit. Working her way up a bit of friction slab, even working through a set of pockets. We also pampered her as a princess and lugged her halfway across the quantum as she sat divinely in the crash pad. Only to get to an area of really easy but high ball climbs. I fooled around. but then we moved on.

At the end of the day I shot off to look for Margaret's necklace, and stumbled across Richard. He and chris had come late to the hill again but were on a sweet balance and dyno problem. I showed them the alternate approach and then went to rejoin the others as we raced to the car to get back to christchurch for pending engagements. Rosa fell asleep in the car and of six or seven who had wished to visit castle hill and then meet Hailey at Krishna Fest I was the only one to go. Twas a fine kirtan and good food. After I had a fine walk as people set off fireworks on surrounding streets. And they have good ones! proper mortars that you can see halfway across town.

Photos courtesy of Elizabeth.

Juan tackles the balance dyno problem on a previous trip.

Another perfect weekend?

hitched back from west coast on friday. sweet english bloke from the UK, Richard, picks me up. He's keen to climb and runs to the boulders at castle hill for a quick onsight, then ends up staying. we wander around the city all day sat, looking for bouldering mat making supplies and cosutmes. Go to littleton market, find yummy chocolates from Shes chocolates, some vegges and some fresh fuji apple juice form local farmer. Go to get a nice coffee. Later, after I study for a bit in the park while rich continues looking for a bouldering pad, a stop at a random garage sale gives me my costume for the night!

Party at Liz's- good to see mark again. some nice costumes, me as jack skeliton, Rich as a skanky cop (rowenas costume) liz a witch, Abie's friend with an awesome masquerade mask. Ania from wien warm and bubly, nice to talk to. We used Morten's ginger brew and made dark and stormies, also used yummy drinks with littleton market juice and the vodka pear rich and I bought. people leave. richard shoudlnt drive so we stay. me Anjia, liz, richard begin acrobatics. first crossslegged rolls (in circles very fun) then headstands and hand stands. Rich then leads me through an amazing set of acrobatics, into tear drop. Then bases others and leads them through too. The amazing spider web decorations get torn down and we sleep in exhaustion.

Well I didn't sleep, mind awake and tumbling, I didnt sleep for a long time. Fitful and woke up early. so I went out on front porch to meditate - hard to find focus. then yoga on the upper deck as the sun rose higher and warmed up. I felt comfy in my new found pants. lazy morning, playing with balloons downstairs.... then off to the beach for a while. more hand stands. and I got buried in da sand completly! they couldnt see me! sand was nice and warm while wind zieht. go into coffee shop at the pier and enjoy a chai.

Then into town for slacklining sesh. Rosa falls asleep and we wrap her in my sleeping bag. Liz has amazing focus and got some really nice moments of balance on the line - SO sweet to see! Zoe - with sick dreds! - was from CPIT and good form in acrobatics. More hand stands, headstands, richard shows off flag and I kinda get half flag. Dragon was sweet, so was wallaby. On the line we tried some yoga poses, learning together. Teaching eachother zoe is close to standing from sitting, while I am close to spinning. we also did some juggling... just a tad.

ah...

Rich has sparked so much learning about body balance and posture!

Also then a bike ride into the wind to the beach (16km) only took 35 min. At ania's and marias a party is held and as I am early a sweet footbag sesh ensues. Great fun with maria. Also got out my sphere out for the first time in a while. Chris (a friend of richards) was captivated and stole my sphere often in following days and showed much improvment. Lots of Germans/Austriens at the party, so I practiced me Deutsche. Also was a feiry, prancing around with anna and chasing rosa and playing with an elephant pillow. sweet sweet

...much fun, a bit lax on the studying but i got what i needed done and had great connections with people!

Perfect weekend?

The combination of events that played out from Friday to Monday, both in and around Christchurch, made it one of the best weekends of my time in Christchurch.

Always mindful of the moon and it’s phases I headed out Friday afternoon to Sumner beach to await moon rise and hope for a nice sunset. The bike over was lovely and exhilarating, even into the wind I felt quick and fast as I lept from stop lights and sprinted over the bridge and along the coast. I first wandered the cave at Sumner, noting the play of sunlight and water as it rushed back and forth. I then alternated between kite flying in the light sea breeze, contact juggling, and juggling the pink volleyball I brought from the flat. The pale blue shadow of my sphere rolled over soft sand that caressed toes and retained the warmth of day.

As I waited with slack kite lines for the breeze to resume I noticed some folks setting up a volleyball net. I wandered over, kicking and juggling the volleyball. They had three little kids with them as well, two boys and a spirited girl. We got the net firmly anchored and soon began to play. The youngins would serve occasionally and the girl joined a bit more (though she was also involved in a sand throwing war with one of the guys). Fun relaxed game as the sun went behind Mt Pleasant (a bit of rosy cloud but nothing spectacular). The kids were getting tired and as dusk progressed we parted ways and hoped to meet again.

I had noticed a gaggle of young folks arrive with shovels and now went over to see what they were doing. I sat down with one of the girls looking on and conversed for a bit. They were a youth group originally come to make sand castles, instead they had made two deep pits and connected them with a tunnel. I shared my story and tossed the disk with some of the others. They unfortunately decided to destroy their tunnel and fill in their holes ‘for the safety of other beach goers.’ I thought this a shame but helped stomp on the tunnel and kick sand in the pit. They then went on their way. As I walked back to my things one of the boys ran out to me and asked if I needed a ride or place to stay. I clarified that I had a flat and had biked out, if they had room for a bike I might come but I was fine biking so dont worry about it. Very sweet kindness to receive. He ran back and I turned back towards the sea with a smile: the rising moon there broadened my smile as it shimmered in the waves. My bike back was a joy, even if it was cooler; swift exertion while waving at passerby and cars with a large smile.

~

As a fundraiser for earthquake victims and a thank you to all those who volunteered and assisted in the aftermath of the earthquake a festival of sorts had been organized for Saturday. A line up of kiwi bands were set to amuse the crowds from morning tell dark. I brought my toys and some lunch. I wandered Hagley park looking for a slackline but found none. So I went to the back of the crowed where the sound was fine and I also had enough space to get my kite out. But first I stopped where a disk was flying to meet a girl from boulder keen to climb and play Frisbee. We tossed for awhile, with some of the adolescent too cool kiwi kids joining in from time to time (trying not to enjoy it too much).

Danach I got my kite out and it’s swooping dives and tacks soon drew a gaggle of children leaping and chasing after it, my dives became more and more risky until at last a kid caught the kite (or did I fly it into him... ^.^) . It was soon relaunched and the ordeal repeated until the wind abated and I could no longer keep the kite from their clutches. Then they wanted to try and fly and when a bit of wind puffed I gave them a go. Two of the kids were twins and I had trouble telling them apart, another was very keen on punching me in the balls, not so nice. They all got a turn at the kite, with varying success and a few scenes of brotherly love.

I then left the kite to juggle a soccer ball a bit with some kiwis and then wander off to see if I found anyone I knew. I ran into Tom and his flatties and settled down to eat some lunch. A group of pissed kiwis near us was making some human pyramids and I decided to go partake. No kneeling pyramids here, we were doing it like the Chinese: standing on each others shoulders. We got three on the base to support one, then two. And then got four on the base to support two and three. Finally we got four-three-one! Three men tall we stood for a bit until balance was lost or one of the base collapsed and then we all fell down without incident.

Back with Tom and company we get out the Frisbee and toss around, tom keeps missing his throws and almost hitting people. All the while I’m getting festive and jumping, dancing about like a fool. A gaggle of girls comes charging by as a dancing phalanx, and then surrounds me and we dance and move. The song ends and they want me to lead a dancing phalanx to the front. I tell them to start it and I’ll join in and help recruit. A few minutes later they come by, I join in, and they fall back and force me to the front - oh well. Party on! I continue and call others forth to join the line while leading those behind in ridiculous moves. We go by the kids I’d seen earlier and they join in. The girls are year nines so I try and encourage the young lads to make the most of this opportunity to impress the ladies. Fun leading - dancing- performing. The kids follow me back to my friends and soon they are jumping all over them as well. We spin em around and wrestle and throw the Frisbee, and then dance when the girls show up - er dance more since I was always dancing. Oh and avoiding getting punched by that one boy... At last I carry the kids over to their parents as a ‘special delivery’ and run off before they can catch me again. Dusk is falling and my friends and I move up to the front for the lat songs where we mosh around and I dance my hair out. Cashel street I am waiting...

~

The moon is red as it rises over the city and I amble home to sweet dreams before an early morning. I meet Tom back at his place where we get a ride with Darren, Emily, kyle and Jon into Arthur's Pass. Tom and I tackle Avalanche peak to make use of our rented snow gear while the rest go on to otihake hot pools (and get eaten by sandflies! Hua-haha,haa). Steep but easy four hour climb to the summit. Coming out of the bush (you wont believe it but it was actually THIN bush: dry and slightly less than lush) was great and offered sweet views of the falls across the valley: devils punch bowl and Bridal Vail Falls. We get our ice axes out more for good form than out of necessity for the last hundred meters of the ridge. The ridge drops sharply right with dramatic rocks and gullies. The snow covered peaks farther west and a small glacier their draw our gazes from the trail at our feet. We gain the summit and some tens of minutes later the clouds begin to obstruct our view and then drift about us. But not before we eat lunch and some Keas (only alpine parrot in the world) show up to see what they can get. We joke about

one of them steeling an ice axe and then while I’m rummaging in my pack one grabs my big jar of peanut butter and soars off with his mate in tow crying ‘kea’ in triumph. Incredulous Tom watched the whole affair occur within a meter of him with his camera in hand... Useless! We slowly and nonchalantly make our way down, tom now having recovered form the previous nights beverages which he managed to keep down. The cloud never blankets us but the light gets dull and the views less magnificent - or not. We wander down the road in the village with thumbs out stretched, looking for a good spot to hitch from but without much thought. As we’re debating a sudden end in the side walk and whether it should continue up the little hill in front of us a car pulls up and lo we have a ride!

Und sind Deutscher! Girls without much of a destination, got a cheap rental car in picton and trying to drive and see a lot. I encourage them to take their time and stop frequently as we continue through Arthur's pass. They take my advice and lucky for us all the weather cleared and they got out to see the Waimakariri river bathed in sun. Gorgeouse vistas of blue water braided through the stones, tall mountains mountains rising steeply from the flat valley, and the receding snow line still sheathing the high peaks about the divide up-valley. Some cloud is about but coming into castle hill the sky above clears and we encourage the girls to stop and see the magical place. I show them some spots including a scramble past the nook pictured right to the top of a boulder and a high vantage. Then we wander about, Tom finds some cool little problems for me to try in my tramping boots. Margret has climbing shoes but no experience so we dont bother with the easy climbs I know and just make up our own little scrambles instead. And soon we just move, hold and, Dance on the rocks. Sweet new vision through which to interact with the stones. Dusk is coming, so we move out, scrambling down a neat shoot and tunnel. The sky meanwhile is under invasion, cumulolentuculars of a soft orange pink have moved in saucer like. Our departure from magic rock is delayed a bit longer: we walk slower (past the cows) to lengthen our exposure to the magical stacks of pancakes, floating above the giant mountains of scree.

Night descended and I describe the bland countryside on the strait shot to Christchurch from Springfield - barring two slight curves, sorry. On the left we have what used to be pine forest and has been recently cleared and reseeded for cattle grazing, on the right giant hedges of the invasive gorse, on the left an asparagus stand I still haven't stopped at, more hedges, oh and you might see a hawk circling - if it wasn’t night. We drop off tom, and I get my bike and race off to guide them to my place - they clock me in their car and said I was going over 40kmh. We share food and make a yummy stir fry with beetroot and watercress adding to more common place veggies and with a peanut and coconut base. Enjoy some wine, tell stories, yack in German, share plans. Lots of smiles, and chocolate too,I finish the night adding some finishing touches to some sketches. The two get up early to experience as much of the drive up the east

coast to Picton as possible. Margret makes a yummy oatmeal and some tea which we enjoy before parting. Unfortunately Margret’s sleeping bag was discovered shortly thereafter under one of the couches. Luckily I had thier phone number, but it was off. I packed it up and sent it the following day up to aukland for her to pick up there. I do hope she still got to do the Tongariro crossing in spite of missing her bag.

The rest of Monday was precious as well, with lectures done and study week begun I had the day to myself and began by running errands at a leisurely pace. Saddly I forgot to bring a bag to the grocery store and as I was riding the plastic bag hit the spokes, ripped, and expelled its contents on the street: sending strawberries flying. I then dropped in on Liz who had caught fever. I took Rosa up for some toast and we wandered around outside, finding flowers and exploring the jungle seat. Nice to then sit inside with them, holding Liz’s burning head, lending my strength. But I had an appointment and soon rushed off through the sunny streets back to my own flat. I started chopping... I think there was rhubarb, if not there sure were apples and the strawberries I saved from road rash. Phoebe came and chopped a bit and then mixed the crumble to a perfect consistency. Put it all in an angle food cake dish and set it to bake while we explored wwoofing options. With the house smelling sweet we took the crumble out of the oven and sat on the front porch and ate the steaming amazing sweetness strait out of the pan in the golden sun of springtime in Christchurch.

I’d end there but I want to add that I played Frisbee for the first time that evening and had a great time subbing and playing savage for an afternoon, a few decent d’s and I thought my cutting was good if not too sharp. Throws a bit rusty, I couldn't thread the needle so well. A beer and some treats after as the sun set and then bike home with fabian for another yummy salmon Monday with the flat (and James and Grant of course, plus the none flatting flatmates Horst and Fabian)

Cheers! .

Kelly to Taipo

I had a major assignment due on friday. Then on account of the lecturer not covering the material needed for the assignment, we got a weeklong extension. Suddenly I had the weekend free (relatively). I was itching for snow, but deteriorating conditions on sunday made barker hut and the Harman pass rout to Julia inadvisable. Instead I set my eyes on Carroll hut with and easy walk down to Dillon hut with day trip options and an easy walk out from there. I went to lab, and while other students raged at Tea Party I started out.

HOW!

The hitch was fine. He told me a bit about the hut, the track and some other tracks on the west coast. He went up to the car park and dropped me there by Kelley's Creek. The track led over a side stream and then it was strait up from there. The track followed what was barely ridge as it climbed the side of the valley in switchbacks that barely traversed. going up you held on to roots and small trees, not so much to keep from falling, but because they were there and you might as well. My pack was full with three days of good food, plus the snow gear that probably wouldn't see any use on the melted tops of the kelly range. The trail took a little traverse at the end of the beech forrest rising slowly into scrub, and then continued with some easy traverses through into the subalpine and alpine regions. I came across some piles of snow, remnants of avalanches mostly. (and there is a lovely little brown creeper (bird) on the rose bush next to me... ). For these sections of snow I got my ice axe out for stability and the off chance that I needed to self arrest. I dropped my water bottle and had to down climb some scree to retrieve it but the snow was fine.

I came up out of the valley and into the basin containing the Carrol hut. patches of snow covering tussocks and sphagnum moss, boulders scattered, and a stream cutting deeply through the middle. I drank in the view up Kelly's creek at the ridge opposite, the otira valley cutting down from the left. I went to a rise, set my pack down and took out my kite to dance in the breeze funneling down the basin. Dancing on the odd puffs and holes that form over the undulating curves of the basin, flying over the edge, a rise, a dip. Looking on and out and over:

Daylight was still abundant and I set my sights on the 1500 m summit nearby. I let the flash hut briefly impress me before setting out with sketchbook and jacket for the slightly snow tops. An easy ridge over the stream led to the north and the summit there. on the one side snow had drifted and been baked by the sun to form a rippling surface. A face bare of snow exposed jagged rocks to the lowering solar disk.

The summit was topped with a research stattion. from there I looked out to the clouds over the west coast, the building rain forecasted for sunday. Below the clouds a river meandered, mirroring the light blue skies above as it did. The clouds themselves blanketed the lower ridges and washed up against the peaks that poked out of the cotton mass. The station had a telephone pole which I climbed up to better feel the wind flowing over that peak. The snow field behind the station was an enticing sledding hill, but I wasn't in the mood for snowy boots. After a few sketches I made my way down to the saddle above the hut. The saddle contained a few scattered tarns: one surrounded in patchy snow in a sea of golden tussock, the other at the bottom of a creeping mass of snow. At the head of the latter a neat cave had formed under the mass of snow. A cave fit for Ludwig's crazy imaginings and Wagner's plays.

I had soon filled my water bottle and was back in the hut steaming vegetables as the sunlight faded from the mountains. No dehydrated food on this trip. Tonight I feasted on quinoa and fresh veggies. I actually made too many veggies and snacked on them all the following day. Before the night finished I tried to catch some alpen glow, some stars. They stretched above, partially hidden by a bright half moon. The milky way was a whiff, but the southern cross and the pointers blazed.

Morning came, I felt as though I had overslept. The hut was cool, but not as cold as I expected. The basin was in shadow and while I ate I waited for the sun to appear. It did, and soon I was following a ridge with it at my back. I decided to leave the route, which passes the tarns of the night before and then traverses the northwest side of the kelly range before descending down to Dillon hut, and follow the ridge-line to the summit of the Kelly Range instead.

A nice mellow walk on gentil slopes. Tussocks and some scattered patches of snow formed the path between patches of scree and the larger boulders scattered about. Some false summits appeared. On the left the slopes steepened to near vertical scree slopes leading into the trees of Kelly's Creek. But on the right were rolling hills of that straw gold tussock. A mellow accent and pleasant foreground for the puffy pillows of cloud that lapped the peaks to the west.

Soon I was at the saddle, a landmark I had identified on my topo after which I would climb to that highest point on the range. Some saddle it was, certainly not a pass, with the scree slopes sliding away to the left. In the middle though was a nice frozen tarn with a small ice fall on it's right bank. farther to the right were more tarns, and just visible was the marked route down to Dillon's hut. Up to the summit: round mellow and bald, not too windy. I got out my topo and assessed the options. It was such a nice day and the prospect of relaxing in a hot pool at Julia hut possesed me. I chose to continue the length of the range and bushwack down to the confluence of Hunt's creek and the Taipo river to then follow the Taipo for some ten kilometers to Julia Hut.

It started out well enough, more pleasant round tops, a nice tarn here, and scree slope there, a snow slope to do a bit of sliding on. The sky was blue and the tops glistened with just a whisper of wind. I dropped down the ridge, sighting my route and was suddenly in dense scrub hiding ankle twisting holes. The scrub soon, but not soon enough, turned to bush. The bush was slightly easier to get through. Now I could descend in a continuous fall, the branches of tress wrapping and tangling around me as a sort of seatbelt that I was continually breaking as I pushed myself down. I could no longer see out of the bush to check and correct my route. I stumbled, bashed, pushed, fell on faith. Now and then in the density of it all a path would seem to appear. I would try to follow it but it would just as soon vanish in the tangle of it all. At last one of these paths sustained long enough for me to feel almost normal... just an overgrown trail. I identified the trail as a deer or goat path by frequent prints in the soft earth. When the trail would vanish I looked to follow the tracks, some times I could, sometimes I couldn't. But now I was continually finding the creatures tracks and soon water soudns could be heard. I hoped it wasnt the gully of Hunts Stream, but I also hoped I wasn't too far west, where the slopes bluffed out above the taipo river. I judged by the sun and wove down the steep slopes. In the end I was a bit into Hunt's Stream gully, but not by much, and here I found the old, unmaintained path that goes up the gully. So I avoided the bluffs and came out at the water's confluence. Glad to be in the sunshine I crossed Hunt's stream, the Taipo River, then walked up river a bit to some flats and enjoyed a good chow. It was great to recharge and soak up some sun after toiling through the bush for so long. The bush was fun, but a lot of effort. Also there's little sun there so it had felt late in the day. The sun though was just past two - I had all the time in the world for the relativly easy 10km up valley.

The path stuck to the bank of the Taipo River as it wound up valley. though the way it did varied as the river spread across the valley or squeezed through a neck. First on broad plains with gauss and small shriveled beech like those seen on the snakeskin saddle route. The path vanished in the grasses, washed away by the winter's snow. Red moss covered rocks scattered across a dry braid of stream that occasionally flows from the mountains - a few cairns scattered indicating former trails. Side streams of the Taipo find a more leisurely pace right at the edge of the valley while the river proper flows in the middle. I get to boulder hop across the streams, or wade through them. Orange triangles indicate the trail when there are trees, and a large one calls me up onto the side walls of the valley. Some sections of steep climbing and traversing on steep slopes continue the way where the valley is narrow. Just meters below you can see the River and little side pools through the moss and branches. Some hours pass - another widening, another constriction. At a widening a side trail seemed more worn than the main so I followed it. In a little clearing there stood Mid Taipo hut: a cozy, long, hut with 6 bunks and a nice little stove. I really liked the counter/desk for cooking on. A nice hut to stay at though I didnt much care for the surrounding area, probably good if your hunting in the bush.

The hut marked a mental halfway point to Julia hut. Just after I crossed the Taipo River via a swing bridge. The trail then stayed higher on the bank, with only one or two widening of the valley. Even when it did broaden, the track on the true right of the river, where I was, stayed high while the bush thinned and afforded lovely views of the river and up valley. The valley wall had a curious terrace. It resembled a vehicle track at times, had a stoney surface and many side streams could be seen running into it and then off again. The track followed this groove/stream/terrace for much of the remainder of the day. Going up a hill I debated the journey and the destination and decided it was time for a snack. Not the most scenic, but a good spot to listen and watch the ordinary while enjoying a cliff bar. I noted some nice waterfalls to the side. one I recall was mostly hidden, but roared loudly, and I could just glimpse it's short but broad and mighty cascade through the low trees. The stream it fed was also hidden, flowing semi parallel to the track and then vanishing. The small streams that did cross the path were welcome refreshments for my feet, I didn't try to avoid them but rather plunged my boots in to fill them with cool water. Other parts of the track were clearly used to rain and some people had spent massive amounts of time to lay lots of logs across the trail to control the mud. The laths lent a neat atmosphere to that portion of track. I suddenly began to smell hints of sulfur in the air quite frequently, this egged me on as hot pools were rumored to exist at the hut. I kept my eyes peeled for side trails leading to them. None appeared and the smell came and went along with excitement and disappointment.

Soon I crossed another creek and then a swing bridge and I saw the Julia hut. I was a bit put off when I looked in and found a cramped little thing with an open fireplace and no mattresses. But that's because it was the old Julia hut! The new one appeared 2 minutes down the track and was super flash. wide open, a powerful little wood stove and mattresses. I went down to the banks of the Taipo to find and explore the hot pools rumered to exist there. Nice little path to there. But I found no pools... I found a bit of warm water in a pool but couldn't make it any bigger. I then found a warm area of sand and dug down tell I hit water, but it didn't come all rushing out. a lot of work to dig out that sand... but also nice to dig in warm sand when all around it is cool.

I noted another likely spot and went back to get make dinner and get my snow shovel. I soon abandoned dinner half made to go work in the light. I prepped the fire before I left and was psyched to find a pick axe as well. More work digging away, moving sand and rocks and I finally had a little hot pool just big enough to curl up in. As night descended I enjoyed the pool, playing with a stream of cold water to get the temperature just right. I moved the sediment around to better cradle my body and used a flat rock for a pillow. I watched the stars come out. The moon shone off and on through the clouds in a lovely glow. I went out and dipped myself in the cold waters of the Taipo a few times in between soaks in the hot sulfur waters. The clouds were coming with night and I knew the night would have rain - I felt a few drops even. One last clear view of the moon in a gap of the clouds and I returned to the hut. I finished my lentils (which I had been soaking the last few days as I tramped up and down it all) into which I added ginger, garlic, onion and spinach on the wood stove which I got roaring away. The hut warmed up nicely and I finished some sketches and enjoyed reading 'Letters from high Latitudes'. That night I fell asleep to the rain and wind on the windows and roof of the hut.

Rain. I new it would come I hoped for the best. Overnight we had gotten a fair bit and the river was much higher. But now the clouds were slightly higher and the rain softer. I enjoyed breakfast on the front porch before packing up, chuckling as I put my ice axe and other snow gear away. Harman pass would have been my preferred route, but the rains would have swollen the river in the gorge and further destabilized snow conditions, plus the clouds were low enough to cause visibility issues. Back down the way I came then!

The path though now was a completely new experience and a fun adventure. In the cool weather the stream were no longer the cool refreshment of the day before, but not cold either. However I now had no choice about wetness as the track itself had become a stream in many places. The section with wood planks laid overtop was less to prevent mud than to stop erosion. Rivulets jumping down past my feet - into my shoes. Flat sections of the terrace became ponds, one was just past my knees at its deepest. Everywhere water was splashing, falling, running. Off cliff walls it launched and I was forced to take a shower where the trail went under one. Another cliff of the day before was completely unrecognizable. I recall it's mossy splendor quite clearly as it was the largest, most consistent, wall of green I had seen yet. a cliff face a few meters high covered in puffy green moss, with little film ferns poking out here and there. an over hang is formed by a large fallen tree. the tree stretches up at an angle into the forest above and is a slide of pure green soft and enticing moss. Now the whole was drenched in water. less serene and hidden was the moss as white foams of water splashed and rushed over and off it onto the track. Further on the track itself became a rushing creek. The thick bush on either side kept me wading downstream as water pushed at my knees and I carefully stepped down from terrace to terrace, trying not to slip, or trip, on the rocks at the transitions. It was nice for a few minutes and then I just wanted to have an inner tube to float the rest of the way.

I was happy the first stream crossing was a swing bridge, keeping me high and dry over the raging torrent below. I carefully choose a spot to cross the next side stream. The piled rocks that marked its path also diverted it into several smaller braids. I picked my way upstream until I found a good spot to cross the first braid, then searched up and down for safe spots to cross the other two paths. It jumped and tossed about, but it's activity was due to the steep slopes and jumbled rock than to the strength and volume of the flow. Coming to the Taipo (after wading through more flowing streams on the track) I was very glad of the swing bridge which avoided the swiftness that now engulfed the boulders I had seen and photographed yesterday in midstream. I stopped briefly at the Mid Taipo hut to have a snack (a yummy granola bar type cookie I had baked prior to leaving). I was curious to see how the Taipo would be diverted along the flat sections whether it would fill side channels and if so how much.

The streams kept to their own paths on this side of the river, though still crossed the path and lent a nice hazy light to the green mosses about. The flat sections were not much different. One area had almost no flow but was quite deep and lapped the back of my pack. The rain had mostly eased off and only sprayed occasionally. The mountains were obscured though and I recalled the nice peaks I had seen yesterday. I crossed another side river, on the other bank I reconsidered my choice and decided that while I had made it the flow had been rougher and deeper than expected and looking back looked far less crossable. nothing but to continue on now that I was cut off from the Mid Taipo hut. I would use a cable way to cross the Taipo itself further down stream and couldn't recall anymore streams before Dillon hut. I was wrong. After watching a falcon getting assaulted by a smaller bird until they vanished into the clouds I came to another stream. It was diverted in two interweaving braids, but nowhere looked close to crossable. I was stuck between the two streams, and very unhappy.

I marched off up river to see if enough smaller streams entered soon enough to leave a crossable section. This proved to be a very difficult task as the side of the side... gully I guess... were very steep. So more bushwhacking, but this time it was wet, and I kept going down to the river, seeing no crossing and having to climb up the steep slopes to progress past some bluffs and get upstream again. I though I found a spot, but I had doubts and so backed off. returning to the main valley I went up to the ridge line and followed that down, much easier. I wasn't too concerned about having to stay out the night, but was peeved because I had had such poor experiences lighting fires with wood from the bush and there was no chance of finding dry wood. Looking for a good spot to build a shelter I found a likely spot but thought it was a bit far from the trail. I tried to memorize it's location since it also had some dryer wood nearby, and it was close to a side stream on one of the Taipo's flat sections. Once I had determined that it was close enough to the trail and tried to find it again I failed. I settled on another fallen log and set about collecting ferns etc for the shelter: lots of short ferns for the floor (also some odd pine like branches which are hydrophobic and soft), and long ones for the roof. I was content with my shelter, a bit cramped, but looked like it would hold up well. I then continued the more difficult task of finding wood. I found some small things but nothing dry, and so much was rotten. The rain had stopped for a while and some of the dead weeds in the flat plain of the valley had dried to a possibly useful state so I collected a bunch of that as well. Having been at work for some threeish hours and having had little rain I decided to scout the river crossing again. The cairn I had set up to gauge the water level confirmed that the water had indeed lowered (I wasn't just feeling eager to cross). The flow was much reduced and two places showed promise, I took the upstream crossing. Indeed, while I did encounter one spot of strong flow the water level was lower than I would have guessed and I had a very successful crossing.

It was hard to tell the time for sure but I forecasted that I would make Dillon hut just before nightfall. I had consulted my maps again before shelter building and again before committing to the crossing and the way looked clear of further complications. I thought less of the journey now and wished to arrive at the hut. I do recall really liking the flat portions with intermittent stunted beech, the Taipo rushing to my right and the thick bush of the rising slope on my right. I passed where Hunt's stream joined the Taipo, that crossing dint even look remotely possible today. I expected the cable way to appear soon, but instead the track went strait up a scree slope. strait up. I was glad the rain had stopped or I would have been washed off! The it meandered on a ridge for a bit, which was nice but i was nervously thinking I had passed a side trail to the cable way. Finally the track descended, but then descended a lot and I though maybe I had missed it and would have to reclimb the current downclimb (not as steep as the first scree slope). The cable way appeared though the trees, and then at the end of the track.

Crossing was a muscled affair. Tossed my bag and self into the cart using a carabiner to secure my bag so I wouldn't accidently nock it out and assuming that I wouldn't nock myself out. the cart then rolled into the middle of gorge and I had to use a lever that lock against the cable to haul myself and the cart to the other side: one small, slow, strenuous pull at a time. The last meters were hard and the anchor point was in poor shape and made getting my bag out tricky.

The track was along the Taipo and mostly unmarked from there. It lost itself in the yellow (sweet smelling) gauss, into which I was occasionally forced when the trail went into the swollen Taipo). Just before the hut I Passed though an interesting flooded bog. A place influenced by man with a thinned forest and tall none natives snacking like tent poles out of the still water. Rather than find I route around I slowly wadded through the waters, following the trail markers from one green bank to the next. The clouds were turning darker, I still had time before dark but it was coming, which turned the grasses a deeper green that accented the wetness of the air. There was a light drizzle that muffles all sound, no dripping from branch to branch under the skinny trees, or sounds of the Taipo or other running water. Just the ripple of my walk radiating away as I moved through the water.

Dillon hut was nice. The stove was bigger, as was the hut, and took a few tries to light (with dry kindling...) but I did get it roaring. It warmed the hut but not significantly and also provided a nice atmosphere to eat the nights less fancy dinner. Salami, butter, sprouts, tomato, hummus, some scroggin for desert. Sleep came easy as the rain came again and I snuggled in my sleeping bag.

The final exit was an easy two hours. lots of Gauss to start, and a small stream crossing to get my boots wet right form the start! But the clouds lifted to afford wonderful glimpses of dusted mountain sides. The night's rain had fallen as snow on high. Then I followed a side branch of the Taipo that lazily drifted beside me. I was in a nice wide part of the valley now, clear views up and down valley and up the sides to the lower slopes covered in snow. The splotches of sunlight coming in warmed the day and made it a very beautiful morning. Wonderful cascades came down the valley sides. Across the valley a side drainage showed intense erosion with multiple cascades on it's steep faces. A sweet cliff was also visible back from one bank of the Taipo. just like the canyon walls of Utah and Colorado it seemed, but out of sedimentary deposits and with two long flowing water falls just starting to cut notches in. Crossing the side branch was a lovely affair, the slow waters a welcome contrast to the flows of the day before was coupled with a spot of sunshine.

I crossed a little ridge. Leaving the Taipo behind, I was on the road of pass. Rain came in spurts, traffic was slow. I took out my sketch book to sketch the view accross the valley while I waited. The farmer of the farm where I was waited came and gave me a lift to jackson, a town just out of Arthur's Pass that gets traffic from both Hokitika and Greymouth. From there I got a lift in a nice yellow Honda from some asians. One had never seen snow and we stopped in Arthur's Pass to catch snow flakes, throw a snowball and make a snowman. Later we also stopped at castle hill where I gave them a short tour. They dropped me back in Christchurch with just enough time to walk to uni and make the last rehearsal for Kapa Haka! (but no one remarked on my appearance or tramping gear).