Tekapo spoon fest

Having missed out on many of the UCCC events I decided to make an appearance after my month+ long absence. In glaciology Thomas asked if I was going to spoon- fest, and I replied: "what n when?" He had space in his car so I figured I'd try something different and tag along. We departed friday night after our labs, and after repacking the car. Ten minutes on the road and we got called back into christchurch because Paul needed someone to take his boat. So we sat in the parking lot while they undid my amazing tiedown job. The sun hit the clouds from below and we resented that we were missing the sunset drive we all looked forward to. They got the boats tied down and we were off at last.

HOW!

A boring, generally, drive in the dark through geraldine to Lake Tekapo. Patches of mist appeared off and on about the road. ghostly shapes and and little clouds. every-now and the a rabbit would appear and the car would swerve to try and hit the pest. Music was fine, but the darkness lent it self to sleep that was not allowed. We stopped some 30 minutes from our 4 hour destination for a pea break. Parking in the ditch, then standing and sitting on the car we gazed up at the stars from the dark countryside. Many Many stars. A milky milky way, Sirius, the southern cross, the fishhook aka scorpius, and tiny little ones all about. Saw a shooting star, and then our bodys began to chill and we went back into the car. The temperature was actually really nice. We had a few sprinkles of rain and the mist but also good clear skies. I'd poke my head out the window to check that the boats were still there. My head reentered the car with wind fussed hair. Turning south from Tekapo we raced down a dirt road, did some off-roading to try and hit a rabbit, and arrived at the camp-spot.

Many were there but many more were in cars behind us and no partying had really begun. The fire was blazing. But required frequent resupply of pine-cones collected from the pine trees about. Kids from the Otago University Canoe CLub (OUCC) were there. But by the time the other cars arrived (one getting lost in Tekapo for an hour trying to find the dirt road) OUCC had all gone to bed. The UCCC proceeded to break into song and brag about the UCCC partying superiority. One of the UCCC became very annoying by repeatedly yelling a high pitched baby type laugh. Another UCCC member was unhappy with sleeping arrangements: couldn't find a spot for a tent (an obvious one was pointed out to him several times) and insisted that particular persons would be sleeping with him. The stars were still visible and I caught another two shooting stars. We went to bed as Orion was rising with the pleades. Little spooning had occurred, so many decided to go invade other tents and make things interesting. I returned to My own tent, which I set up during the only 10 minute period of rain the whole night, to get some much needed rest after a week of heavy studying.

Morning came and people slowly stirred. Someone had stoked the coals and the fire was going again. I cut up an apple to add to my musli. A bit cloudy this morning, but nice. Then we got recruited to do some work. Before the water got released and channeled into the artificial White Water Kayaking course that was our entertainment for the weekend we needed to move rocks, open the gates to the river, pull some weeds, and clear out sediment. By weeds I mean small prickly tumbleweed things, which burn well in addition to leaving ridiculously small needles in your hands, and also pine trees. To get the pine trees out we tied rope around the trunks, connected that to a car and hit the gas. For the first one the rope stretched like a rubber band and then the tree came flying out and hit the car's hood, and tightened the knots a lot. After that we used a static piece of webbing. To move the rocks we made a fire bucket type line stretching from the bottom of the course up over the bank to the actual river. About 7-14 of us were in the line at any given time lifting and moving small fist sized rocks and heaving and waddling with small boulders. We moved a good three square meters of rock in about an hour. People waded in the trickle that was in the river to clear some sediment from the concrete floor so the channel's doors could be opened. And we watched the digger move sediment form the first pool (which would later hold a standing wave) to create a more consistent eddy.

Done working for a bit I wandered off down the dry river bed to explore a bit. Lots of well sorted rounded Greywacke sand stone and mudstone. The trickle pooled up at one of the corners to make a nice pool. Above the pool was compacted sediment of the meandering river forming vertical cliffs with scree slopes at the base. I slid up the scree and then 'tele-skied' down, fun but short. Wandering around the bed I saw some cool rocks.

I also found a really nice and large lingam. Had a slight flatness/divot on the back but otherwise nicely formed and semetrical. Then back to the course, still waiting for the dam to release the water for folks. I snack on some lunch...

At last the water arrived and many ran in-front of the water to watch its swelling advance. To see it licking and swallowing the rocks and boulders, picking up sticks and tumble weed. I scampered down through the large doors, the concrete smooth bit where the standing wave would soon develop.

low flow ---->

to raging torrent!

Then kayakers were in the water and I spent the time watching them play on the standing wave under the gates, practicing their rolls on the flat-water, and going through the gates. There were a few kids in slalom boats practicing and handling their boats ( and I just realized boats in spanish is botas....) in the river very well. Quick sharp turns and to bring the bow around and get past gates, then flowing back down to the next eddie. The kayakers carrying their boats back up would on occasion ask to warm their hands and I'd sacrifice my neck to their frozen digits.

A very interesting, pensive, contemplating, scruffy dog sat in a truck and watched with me for a bit. People got cold and left the waters, soon even spectators left the banks by the standing wave. The fire attracted them all until only Thomas was left tearing it up. Someone came and gave him a beer and he took a little break to enjoy the lowering sun.

Then returned to the wave to spin a bit, toss his paddle, and just surf. plus the occasional roll as the wave spit him out...

All then exited and festivities began. talking, drinking, cooking, rearranging tents... stoking the fire. The sun set and it was beautiful. Evening by the fire again, I carefully heated up my lentils in a pan over the fire. OUCC vs UCCC rivalries resurfacedm consequences for rolling and having to wet exit were faced. I retired to a car hood to gaze at the stars. Before calling it an night a bunch of us jammed into a car and blasted some music, just for the hell of it. Then it was bed time.

Next day came. and Thomas opened the day with some dryland kayaking before the water arrived to again fill the course. I watched again. and then, as the wind was stronger, but the sun was shining, let out the kite. I spent some sweet hours flying in the gusty winds. ALways at the edge of the window, dancing on edges, or diving into the window briefly to hear it flap in protest. The ground was littered with weeds, but I only landed - ok crashed - once.

We left early, and I unfortunatly forgot the lingam and other rocks I had found. But if I had brought them I would have wanted to get them back to the states. This time we made a point of warning eachother when bridges were coming and then all holding our breath over them... pointless but helped pass the time. We also listened to Fat Freddys drop, which was some very enjoyable kiwi jazz -ish- sound. The rain started coming down. I enjoyed listening to a hard rain - its hounding of the windshield. We stopped at cookie time to pick up some cookies too!

Sunset in Tekapo

QCT Event

Final week of earthquake break came along and I decided that a jaunt on the queen charlotte track would be nice. Or rather I wanted to go to Nelson lakes and do the travers-sabine circuit but the weather forecast was for rain, wind, snow and more snow... not the best conditions for avalanche territory. A german friend in my glacier studies class, Marrie, was coming back from wellington and wanted to do something in the nelson region, and decided on the Queen Charlotte track in marlborough sounds. I told her I would meet her up there thursday when they sarted the track. Wednsday came, after a nice lazy day at Liz's, and I realized I probably should be in Picton (the closest town) that evening so I could actually get on the track thursday morning. I called Marrie and she said she had a friend hitching up from christchurch that day and i should see if i could join her. I tried the number but got no answer, sent off a text and waited for a reply. I flashed home on my bike to pack all my gear so I would be ready if I did get a response. But it was past 2 and it's a good 4 hour drive to Picton, so things weren't looking too good.

Indeed no response came and at 8:30 the next day, Thursday, I was on the road hoping for a ride. 2 hours later I was 30 minutes outside christchurch looking for another ride. Then I got a ride up towards Kaikora and finally felt i had started out, HOW. But I also Learned that the road to Kaikora was closed because of a landslide! what? yep, happened

four days ago and between two bridges so they couldn't get big diggers in there to clean it out. Luckily there was a detour and my ride took me half way through before dropping me off and heading towards his exploration of some neat little beach. From there a dog trainer picked me up and took me through the back roads of the Kaikoras. These mountains are small and rolling but come to large overbearing summits with commanding views of sea and souther alps. I just saw the seaveiw and didn't reach any summits, but look forward to doing a peak in the region at some point.

Coming into Kaikora is amazing: mt Feif rears from farms to bush and into snow to its 1600m summit. the farms extend to small houses a road and a strip of sand before the gaz wanders out to see and its infinite horizon. The sky is slightly overcast, just above the summit of fief. no sun spots make it down to the earth. But somehow all is wonderfully illuminated in a sacred calm. The surf crashes gently in eternity on that sandy shore that is littered with little black outcrops of coarse rock. A chimney is puffing smoke and the small sleepy town feels like a wonderful place of rest. I am tempted to call off my plans and stay there for some time. But a car halts and the driver moves his things to the back.

A california boy has suddenly decided to go renew his drivers license, but needs to go

toblenheim, the nearest semi big town in the northern part of the

island in order to do so. I will remind you that New Zealand has a population of 4 million, with only 1 million on the south island and 400 thousand of those in Christchurch. So we traveled, north, enjoying music, sharing stories, and speculating on the future. He likes to fish and I told him to feel free to give a ring anytime he's down near christchurch needing a place to stay. He dropped me in Blenheim so I made my way across town passing this bridge en route.

Final hitch to Picton was a wonderful older man, who just finished at his first job in a nursing home in Blenheim and now he was heading to Picton for a restaurant job. He owns a small farm and has a home near Picton. I really liked talking to him, though cant remember much of that conversation... unfortunate. Marrie texted to say they had ferried out to the track and planned to stay at bay of many coves campsite. It was almost four and I was sad I probably wouldn't be joining them. But my driver was optimistic that I could catch a ferry in Picton to join them that evening. Alas all the transport companies had returned for the day. I went around the harbor asking the fishermen and any other people near ships if they might be going out into the sounds andcoudl drop me anywhere along the track. The fishermen had all come in and were done for the evening. Though one, nicknamed shorty, said he'd give a call if he was going in the morning and could give me a ride then. I never did get a call from him.

I decided to give up on doing the track with them and decided to hitch from picton to either the start of the Queen Charlotte track or to another track. I was picked up by a wonderful german coming off the ferry from wellington. He had been living in wellington and was now headed to Nelson to join his wife and kids in the new house they had just bought on some land there. Great to practice my german a bit as we talked of weather and kids and jobs. He drove me an extra 7km up the side road to the start of the track, and we had amazing low sunlight penetrating under the clouds to illuminate the green valley that is the head of Queen Charlotte Sound.

I really started off! HOW! 5 pm and I was on the trail after hitching 530 odd km. I was goign the wrong direction... but I would cross paths with Marrie and might even spend a night in the same spot if things worked out. I had an hour of daylight and fully intended to make the most of it. Indeed those first few kms were some of the best. The sound has some interesting undulations at it's head, and the dipping sun nicely illuminated them.

I ran into some folks shortly after, first two girls who walked by with scarcly a nod. Then a boy who stopped and I radiantly greeted. One word out of Olly's mouth and my next question was: "wo?" My german mode was on and the next few minutes passed in german to his immense astonishment. Another boy caught up to him and I realized they were from Canterbury Uni as I had met his companion Daniel once. I told them they weren't from from the davis bay campsite which I had passed (wonderfull little beach, has some sand, but I briskly walked over it as i wanted to put some distance between myself in the start that evening). Then two more girls appeared, one of which I recognized, the four of them seemed a bti drained and I asked where they had started. From black rock shelter they said (some 20 odd km) and it had been a hard long day for them after the past two days of similarly lengthy days. I was eager to be off and get some more kms behind so I waved a

cheery *tschuss* and marched off. I ran into some goats on the trail, but they evaded the camera by dashing off into the spiky Goss. I knocked out some more kms but the sun was fading, setting the clouds ablaze to my delight. I said - next bend.. no the next bend - several times. Until at last the light no longer resided in the real of blaue stunde and I forced myself up into the bush. The Goss got thick quick and I had to set up camp slightly before I would have liked, and got Goss needles all over me. But the Hammock went up relatively smoothly, tarp and all. The dry Goss actually left a nice opening in the bush through which moonlight occasionally streamed. I cleared the floor a bit and set down to make and chow on some salami sandwiches. looking up through the needles (which occasionally wiggled their way into my behind or prickled down my back) The stars seemed to race past. Really the clouds were whipping by changing and flowing into eachother, dispersing to let the moon down. Constellations would be briefly framed before once again the clouds, like a mist, closed on them. I wriggled into my bed, my warm cozy sleeping bag made me sweat uncomfortably in the night but I slept well.

I woke early and completed the first 10 of the track to arrive in Mistletoe Bay there I first read the signs about needing a Queen Charlotte Track Land Cooperative (QCTLC) pass to walk the track. The lodge at Mistletoe Bay wasn't open yet so I couldn't get one there. I continued on to a summit from which to view the sounds and enjoy some musli and a pear for breki. I ditched my gear on the side of the track as I went up the side track to the lookout. Nice to drop the burden for a bit. The view was sweet as, looking along the ridgeline and seeing Queen Charlott sound and the more impressive and to me beautiful fingers of Pelorus and Kenepuru sounds. The clouds were thick above but let in shafts of early sun to cut into the restless waters of the sounds. All the constituents gave angry motions but together created a mural of a fast calm. Rooted were the surroundings, even the shifting sunbeams lent permanence to the scene.

Down from the views, into the bush, onwards. The track stayed for a time in a subalpine environment with lots of Goss on either side. The track is graded and two meters wide, easy. It stayed close to the ridgeline and would sometimes cross

over and a view of the sounds would be afforded, the light changed to sun now and again. I passed another sign telling me to get a QCTLC pass. I didn't want to detour to Portage lodge or whatever they call it so I sighed and commited to buy one when I returned to Picton. I passed off DOC lands and onto an odd section of grass, a bridal path for herding sheep that followed the ridgeline, and climbed steeply for a bit. Shortly after I

passed some other walkers. They too had

rain gear on against the odd showers that whipped up from time to time with light sprays. I passed down again from the Goss and into native bush. Lots of bush... some mud, some slightly steeped bits, but always graded. Then up again and into more Goss. The winds were picking up and with them gathering greys.

The gusts pushed up over the ridge from the west to then dive down into the bays of Queen Charlotte. The intense pressure left flat depressions on the water which boiled outwards, sometimes kicked up into a fury of white spray that danced and swirled into the air. Turning over a ridgeline I watched it all in amzement. Descending agin somewhat into the bush I passed a sign indicating access to a privatle lodge along the track and warning: Not maintained by DOC: for experienced trampers only! I laughed and sidled on along

the smooth and graded DOC track. A gap in the bush where a tree had fallen allowed for another look into the sound and the paintings of the wind.

And then I was at the black rock shelter; just in time, for 5 minutes post arrival the winds reached a gale and brought rain beating down against the back of the shelter. A perfect time for some banana peanut butter sandwiches for lunch ay? I enjoyed my yummy, listened to the gale and tried to record some of it as well. The hexagonal shelter kept me nice and dry and out of the wind. I figured I'd fill in the DOC book since they tel you to always fill em out when you pass. But I was naughty and picked a bunch of sweet smelling yellow Goss flowers, stuck em in the book and wrote "flowers!" as my intended purpose of the journey. Bundling up against another possible shower I was back on the trail.

I passed a walker engrossed in his headphones and was sad. Then on through more bush. The clouds lifted for a bit and I had some nice views of the bush, and then some openings allowed views of the sound and bush covered hills. Rain came in spurts, and now and again I even got some hail. I was approaching the Bay of Many Coves shelter, but had not passed Marrie. I got out my phone and sent a text to see where they might be. The weather began clearing again and when I reached the shelter I had sunshine and a nice clear view over the sound. I sat on the stoop and ate some scroggin, ei gorp. The girls it turned out had spent the night at the shelter, but the storm had hit them and soaked their gear. So they had to turn back and take the ferry back into Picton. I was sorry to hear that but excited at the prospect of getting the whole track done and had enjoyed the views, if few and far between, thus far. Back onto the track I determined to

get passed a longish section on the western aspect and onto the more sheltered eastern side of the ridge before nightfall. The path moved onto the west side of the ridgeline and the wind was intense. Howling up and through the trees trying to pass over the obstruction that separated the sounds. It's fury almost caught me as I walked into an opening beneath some powerlines. The full force of wind, unfiltered by trees, came and nearly blew me over. I staggered, but smiled and continued on, chuckling. In and out of the bush, as I passed over small ridgelines, wearing my rain jacket more for the wind than anything, but the rain was coming again as well. And with the wind the rain was horizontal and very strong. On one bend a tree had lost its footing and was bending into the path. A tangle of roots unable to hold dirt spread over the path. The edge was rather steep and so I had to clamber over awkwardly.

The wind really was howling and I was getting a bit nervous about how the night might turn out. I knew I needed to get on the eastern aspect to avoid the full brunt of the wind. This notion was reenforced when I took another little side trail to a lookout. Howling winds tore at the nonnative pine trees around the track and small branches had been blown down. At the lookout the wind was strong and rain blew into me, making it difficult to see any sights and also rather unpleasant. There was a picnic bench and a sign pointing the direction and distance to many famous places around the globe... But I felt cold and so preoccupied so wandered back down from that windy place. I stopped in another saddle where the wind was blowing, this time with less rain, and the clouds were higher. I was behind a thin line of trees and looking down into Queen Charlotte sound I watched the play of wind on water making wave and spray. Captivating are the horseshoes that grow out of flat waters in the bays. Dark greens, deep deep blues, and then white caps and spray all under grey dormant clouds. in that vantage the rain started, and so I marched on into the shelter of the bush.

I began to descend, and finally crossed over the ridge and onto the eastern face. I continued on to reach lower elevations free of Goss, and kept my eyes open for a thin section of bush in which to set up my hammock. Today's wildlife appeared as a couple of wecca ambled across the tack. They were a bit cautious, but not frightened of me at all. Odd flightless New Zealand birds. nice brown

color and large yellow beaks. I was psyched to see them! Soon after I found my spot in the bush. I moved out away from the track and found some sturdy trees. Took a bit longer to set up camp as I was a bit drained by the last few hours rain. Though at the moment it was clear (you could tell by the light since you couldn't really see out of the bush). I still had a few hours tell dark so took it easy. By the time the tarp was all stretched out it started to drizzle, so I crawled into the hammock and had dinner in there. No moon tonight, but I pulled out my Sheepskin, which kept the back nice and toasty, and left my sleeping bag open. I stayed a much better temperature and had some pleasant dreams though I cant recall them now.

I woke in the morning just after dawn, having slept soundly through the night, I chose a nicely sheltered spot and had had very little wind, though the rain had come down hard at times. Packing up some more Wecca appeared. which was nice, at first. But then they started moving towards my bag, and their sharp beaks took some strong jabs at my pack and food bag. I had to shoo them off a bit then, though they persistently snuck back. It was a bit later, this morning, maybe an hour after dawn? So I was eager to be off, and the urgings of the wecca expedited the tear down of camp.

Back up the slope, through the fragile trees that were still standing in spite of rot, wind, and rain. Under some pines with towering branches thick with needles. The track was moist, and as I came around and down into Endeavor Inlet the air thickened and rain began to come. this rain was different, the wind was softer. A more misty rain, but unsteady and the clouds were high and a lot of light filtered through. Really just the occasional sprinkle, though up above I watched the tormented clouds and knew there was wind.

Down along the shore of the bay now I kept a weary eye for an a place to eat a full breakfast. I had a banana at camp but I hadn't wanted a full meal just yet. An overlook wasn't likely to occur, But I noticed a nice little beach across the undulation in the inlet I was following that shouldn't be too far away and made that my goal. I was bundled up with hat and wet gloves and rain-jacket against the spitting of the sky. The morning was chilly without a sun and my hands were very chilled. At the head of the bay the stream which formed that undulation appeared. A good sized river, the biggest I had seen yet on the track. I noticed a side path and took it, I knew it would go towards the beach where the stream joined the sea (I'm on an ocean incase you forgot!) But another branch veered off back to the path, as I had hoped, and led me into the stream. Felt good to get my feet wet in wading after having crossed so many bridges.

The track started to climb and I worried I would miss my beach. I stopped at an interesting Tree next to the Path that served as an umbrella for a view out of Endeavor Inlet. And just down from the tree was my beach! I scrambled down a steep bit and onto the rocky beach. What strange rocks! They looked as if corroded and etched by acid. They had cool pock mark holes in them and were a stunning warm reddish hue. A small space, maybe 15m wide, backed by a 2-3m high wall of crumbling earth, tree branches strewn and neglected as they stretched down towards the beach. Fully hungry now I extracted my musli and a pear from my pack and sat on a rock to enjoy. A stiff breez was still nipping and I discovered my fingers flacid and noncooperative. I struggled to close them around the spoon, and couldn't hold the fingers together to scoop out the musli. The result was I spilled a lot of musli, and the paradise ducks I watched playing on the water probly got a nice meal from it too. Satisfied I scanned the stones and selected a few holy ones. Rubbing my hands I reorganized, storing my treasures, and scrambled back up the slope. I was eager to try and get to Ships cove that afternoon, early enough to catch a ferry back to Picton and with luck hitch back to christchurch.

The trail then was more of the same. up down, up down, the views restricted to the waters of the inlet and less of the sounds proper. I then came down into the head of the Inlet itself an miners camp. Miners settled there at one point mining adamantine ore. The ore was of low grade unfortunately and now it is a quirky place of a few farm animals and curious shacks. Farther on the fancy vacation homes and resorts popped up. I stopped at one to retie my shoes and say hi to an older gentleman living there. After the homes I passed a cool turn off to a waterfall, but I wanted to make ships cove and so pressed on. Just after was another sweet

little rock beach. And then began the climb up out of Endeavor Inlet over to resolution bay. I ran into some cyclists, and just after thier passing heard a tire blow, and someone shouted, "thats the third one today!" The forrest here was sweet and there were some cool half lookouts that just had very nice light, though no real views of the sounds. Up farther and I caught glimpses of the saddle that was the top. The trees felt very healthy hear, and the hillside murmered with trickling-seeping water. The sky had cleared and I now watched soft cumulous racing overhead. At the saddle was first a toilet. I used it. Then, a steep descent on switchbacks to a sweet little farm. I thought sustainable, but what do I know. At any rate they had some cool shelters set up and running free across the path were chickens! I really liked that place. felt like a good home, I wish i remembered the name cause I think you can stay there and I would recommend it over the other places I passed.

It was 2 and I knew I wouldnt make it to ships cove that day. I saw a turn for another campground at a beach and went there. School house bay, not that nice, but I had a good time. Another landslide had covered that path so I got to scramble over that. Then I Sat on the beach and set out some things to airout/dry. I stripped down and prepared for a bath. The wind was chilly, but the sun warm so I had my eye on the clouds and waited tell none were coming. Then I dashed into the water and freaked out! oiy! chilly cold salty water, refreshing as a mountain stream. I dipped, dove, and sprang out gasping a few

times. Then found a semi sheltered spot from the wind and commanded the sun to dry me. That worked a bit, and then I ventured out into the wind and that dried off the rest. Waiting I ate and watched the waves crashing on a protrusion in the beach. Lunch was yummy, and when I felt I was all dry I set off at a leisurely pace for ships cove.

One final Saddle to reach. the path curved up towards it and I caught many glimpses of it through the tree tops. At that top was the view of all views. A notch in the trees allowed unhindered observation of the outermost sounds. The fingers of Queen Charlotte Sound fully spread, grasping brothers island and the eyes of the octopus. On the horizon could be seen a mass of cloud, hovering above the north island. I knew wellington was getting hammered in the storm even if the clouds had passed me for now. I loved it. and drank it in.

I was also ready to make camp and wanted to do so early, plus there was a waterfall at ship cove to explore. I got to the cove, noted the toilets, pier, grass, monument, and beach. Then moved on towards the waterfall keeping an eye out for likely hammock areas. I spotted one and ditched my pack. I visited the waterfall and recalled conversations from the Routburn track when we wanted to bath under one. There were multiple falls. The main ones in front of me were two, one large and boisterous to the left, another thinner and concentrated into a nice shower head falling just out from the rock into a pool. The trees were very thick, and some clouds I think added to the gloom, I was surprisingly tired. There were other falls behind and a second stream with smaller cascades to the right. I went up above, stepping gingerly through tangled vines and slippery stones. I found where the lower falls diverted into two streams and blocked off some of the bigger flow. When I got back down the smaller fall was falling well into the pool and I made a note of the spot incase I wanted a shower in the morning.

I went back to my pack, wandered up into the woods and found some nice trees next to a tree fern. This was the first camp on nearly flat ground. I again wanted another length of rope and used my kite lines instead. I was set well before dark, but the clouds dulled any sunset and I felt wind and rain coming on. I ate and dusk under the clouds fell. I bundled into my hammock and sleeping bag as it was dark and the wind picked up. But I couldn't sleep for some reason. I listened to the wind and the fern tree rubbing on the tarp. Then the rain came and cackled along the tarp, running off the side: in rivulets, and gathering to a stream near one of the lines. At last I slept. Slept tell morning and tinges of orange on the sky.

I quickly took things down as the new day was bright and sunny. I moved down to the beach at ships cove then. I dismissed the shady, cold, waterfall shower option, and contemplated another swim in the ocean. I ate some musli. drew some postcards. I slowly stripped down, letting the sun get stronger, as the wind had never left. I did then venture in. A long beach it was and hard to swim. I waded out some 20 meters and still only thigh deep. I suddenly felt a little pain in my back. then my arm. Sandflies? dammit there's sandflies! I then dove into the water and enjoyed some flundering, today with fewer gasps. before wading back to shore. I then was constantly moving to avoid the sand flies. I collected rounded stones from the stream there. Then sat on a log and did some more sketching and postcard writing. Then back to the stones and I discovered that the large stones were mud stone and easily broken. I broke some and then arranged my collections in an interesting fashion. I put on some clothes to keep off the sand flies but kept roaming, sketching, sculpting. Moving between yoga poses and feeling the sand (yep this beach was sanding rather than stoney) in toes and on legs and arms.

I saw a boat arrive and went out to the pier. Then I saw the blue waters there and really wanted to dive in. But I had dried and didn't want to again, plus I knew the boat ride would be windy and a windy wet boat ride would be COLD! the boat though was just dropping off and wasn't going to Picton. but shortly a Picton boat arrived. The sounds by boat arnt too flash either, your too low to the water. But some of the shore line is cool and you see more of it. You also see that alot more of the sounds are covered in nonnative, ugly, pine. I helped the boat driver land at docks and laod and unload some goods for people. But I still had to pay when We got backinto Picton.

A quick stop at the isght to buy my Queen Charlott Track Land Cooperative pass. Then to hitch! To blenheim in a wicked van with kids slowly going to christchurch to see metalica. Then from belnheim with a very cool indain dude from kashimier who had some things to say.

Epic. 2 days driving for 1060 km. 2 days walking 75km

HOW

Domestic Sunday

Weekends come suddenly everyweek and the plans are always a scramble. This one was no different, and my visit to the weekly tramping club meeting provided no direction other than a possible easy day hike saturday in wet rainy weather. the same weather seemed to be all about the island and I had no desire to attempt to hitch the long road back north to sunny mountains. So I made no plans, went climbing with James in the porthills instead. kinda off day with our wall constantly confounding us, leading both of us to take wingers. Later we had some nice climbs though it was windy and sometimes felt as if we were gona get blown off the face.

I recall the events of sunday proper beginning in paragraph five if your pressed for time, otherwise - as all sundays do, this one began on a saturday. A lazy, uncommitted, uneventful saturday evening, on my own, eating dinner and contemplating my studies. Satisfied and full on the flattie's spaghetti sauce I was restless and the cheap rhubarb and other fruits I had sitting around hung in my mind. At Braeden's urging I gave in and whipped up a pear rhubarb crumble. As I put it in the oven Elizabeth responded to my query regarding a sunday trip to castle hill: "yup we're going, I wana leave around 8:30 and you can stay here or we can pick you up in the morning." I had a crumble in the oven so couldn't head over their just yet, but I replied that I'd check if people were still awake when my crumble was done and then maybe head over. At the prospect of crumble the response was: "yes, we will definitely be up! :-) ." Suddenly I was energized with purpose: deliver a crumble to friends.

Throw things in a bag for climbing at castle hill the next day, some other treats, and my hard drive of music and movies. I removed the crumble and delivered a large portion to Braeden to share ("three spoons? oh thanks nick I always wanted three spoons for my crumble." "I know you get over excited and eat the spoons sometimes so I put some extras in," I replied"). Then I carefully packaged it in my puffy jacket and placed it into my bag before grabbing by bicycle to race the 12k in nick style, making every light along the way!

Saddly Elizabeth was, as I had theorized, asleep on the couch. But Abby and Morten were chatt'n away and welcoming as ever. Liz did wake up, the crumbled was unveiled still steaming and sweet smelling and yoghurt was found. We all proceeded to nomnom on the scrumptious midnight snack. Tonight was the night we would loose an hour for daylight savings humdrum so movie thoughts were quickly rejected, especially once I realized my hard drive had not made it into my bag. The full tummy hilarity's subsided and people began to drop off. Liz found the couch and my lap amazingly comfortable. The couch alone was apparently more cozy than the bed downstairs even once I had extracted my no longer circulating limbs from under her. Thinking it silly, and smiling I sat down to do a bit of studying. Then Rosa woke downstairs and made sounds of distress. Those sounds only got worse when I went down to comfort her, and not wanting them to get too shrill I aroused mum who had quick success in easing Rosa back to sleep. The night was late, the moon was high, time had jumped and yet everything was the same, just now all of us were asleep.

Morning came to groggy faces, sleep deprived we slept through the alarms we forgot to set the night before. Our friends in lincoln were almost all assembled and ready to go to castle hill by the time liz had showered and I had prepared crepes n compote. When we heard no one in lincoln was needing our assistance to get to castle hill our motivation to drive the distance faded and the urge to soak in sunshine and catch some catnaps kept us from acting on our urges to travel.

With warm crepes wrapped around compote - leaving sticky fingers and smiles - we began sunday. The sweet smelling rhubarb accenting the primarily strawberry mash that filled the soft tortillas laced with bits of lemon, and lingered in the lounge long after they had settled in our tummies. There had been no spectacular sunrise, but the sun was high, the weather warm and a refreshing wind was blowing. We made our way around the house from sunspot to sunspot. From soft carpets, to cold glass. Onto soft wood, resting heads on shoulder, lying in the grass and smelling the fresh wetness of the evening's dew. Liz dozed as I tried to keep Rosa occupied and off her mum. Rosa summoned us all to sit on cushions that were a car and took us for a drive. A silent one because Rosa shushed Liz's and my boisterous singing of wheels on the bus go round and round. Lions were spotted en mass of course and chased us out of the car. Later when more lions were spotted I changed the theme. When using long straws to go fishing off the cushions that were now a boat I became a sea-lion when Rosa conjured up a lion. I dont think she quite understood what a kind of blubbery creature I was, but was entertained by my flopping and odd *roughing* noises non the less.

I decided on a shower. When I got out Rosa found all my scratches from bush and climbing adventures and proceeded to apply many plasters. Even as I write they still cover me as I am afraid of the pain that comes with removing plasters from hairy places. I remained in my towel, and Rosa seemed determined to remain nudiescaboody (a term my cousins and I used but which I have no idea how to spell) for the day and refused clothes. Plasters reminded me of my aches and pains. I retrieved some frozen fruit and a towel to ice my bothersome ankles. Rosa I think imitated me when she had me wrap some toilet paper around her arm as a bandage.

That 3 year old little girl has a little red push bike that she enjoys riding, and we went down the driveway to the quite street to ride around. It Reminded me of my bicycling on a wooden deck long ago. I kept her from zooming off down the hill by pushing her up and around on the culdesac. Walking back up the driveway we picked some flowers for mum and then discovered a secret path. So I picked up the barefoot Rosa and off through the woods we went on a little adventure. dodging branches and vines, I'd dip Rosa close to the flowers and delicately we would tiptoe around trees growing on the path. We came to thrones in the jungle, surrounded by light foliage, and enjoyed spotty sunlight. Still holding Rosa close to keep her warm in the shade and wind. She spotted a cool stick (when she says stick it sounds like pen) and used it to clean the armrests. Then we hollowed out the middle of the stick and stuck a flower in it. "oh! a lion!" Rosa spotted lions, I beat some of them off but then had to weave my way back along the trail to escape them. When we were back on the driveway I picked some interesting yellow blossoms off a tree. The blossoms swirling on the pavement became lions and we chased them off, or blew them up in the air to watch them drift away. We went back down the trail a few more times before returning up the driveway with the bike and some more flowers.

In the house rosa opted to ware a red princes dress for a time and we quietly prepared the flowers in vases and then presented them to Liz at her computer. "Ah, Tak." Then some skyping with family, and Rosa diving off the couch onto the big red beanbag with many a hard whomp. One whomp may or may not have been a bit too hard an impact but without crying and just a bit'a pouting Rosa wanted some ice. Rosa liked the way I had tied a towel around my knee to hold the ice in place earlier and had me fix her up the same way. Soon things were " aw bettah." Lions were spotted but Pete the talking hand puppet parrot chased them off. until Pete got caught and then the kick boxing kangaroo came in with her joey and beat off the lions. Then they both got their feet eaten by lions and Rosa had to rescue them!

We prepared some lunch snacks: buttered toast for rosa, odd sandwiches of sprouts, humus, tomatoes, butter, compote, this and that... and the last of the crumble. After that Rosa had to be chased around the garden for a bit by us lions trying to catch and gobble her up! With Liz as the lion we ran and hid in the bathroom. But the lion didn't come to get us, so we sneaked out quietly - only to have the lion JUMP out at us and send us SHRIEKING! back to the bathroom closet! Rosa and I made a few more attempts that always ended in shrieking giggles as we ran back into hiding. Then I became the lion and surprised them a few times before deftly maneuvering to chase them upstairs. Then no one was a lion and Rosa shed her red dress to devour two large apple icepops without making a mess.

And somewhere in between Rosa thoroughly buckled up my back pack and put it on. she looked like a turtle!

Rosa and I again made our way outside, following Liz as she explored the photographic possibilities the flowering garden inspired. Large white wrapped up blossomes didn't interest rosa who opted for More biking instead. doing so we discovered odd hard fruit like blossoms perfect for throwing. We found a ball and kicked that around for a while starting on the terrace behind the house and ending up on the street below. Very interesting to watch Rosa follow and respond to the ball; kicking it, or trapping it awkwardly to then pick it up and throw it. I played warden and kept the ball from rolling too far down the driveway, but I think Rosa learned many interesting things watching the ball move on the incline. And later when I bounced it up and down the stairs, sometimes bouncing over her, sometimes stopping on the step before her, and sometimes bouncing between outstretched hands and off her head. Rosa was slowing down, the sun was getting behind the hill and I think her birthday suit was a bit cold. But she still wanted to be outside, so she picked the last of the tulips in the front bed.

Standing on the bench of the lower terrace, which had some sunlight, we reenergized. Then warmed into movement and began to dance around. A coffee table was our center and In an odd ritual involving the waving of a small batton we orbited around. Stuttering in halting motions, shaking arms and uttering odd grunty-whiny chants. Putting the batons down - pausing to open eyes clearly and observe each other soft smiles stretching cheeks - then picking them up and resuming. Occasionally we would flop down on the ground, sitting or on our backs, then hop up to keep shuffle-chanting. We moved back onto the bench that serves as railing about the terrace to soak in some of the last rays of sun. And rosa gathered some rounded river rocks and I naturally began to stack and sculpt with those she brought to the table. My balanced creations were admired, but had to be moved to a frisbee and were destroyed in the process, but Rosa was confident I could remake them.

And it was time to sleep a bit. Rosa helped me carry out her little mattress, then helped me retrieve the larger single so that I would have a place to rest too. But the sleep was short lived as lions soon snuck up and had to be chased off. The ball reappeared with Morten who told us dinner would be ready soon. I threw the ball up onto the roof to watch it roll down. Then somehow Rosa needed to be thrown up there - so I picked Rosa up and twirled her about, tossed her up and then flopped down on the mattresses to rest my arms. I promised Rosa three more tosses and after the last one twirled and flew her around and upstairs to dinner and hugs from mum.

Dinner of mashed potatoes and a interesting tomato carrot bean something dish which was tasty. Also a bit of sauerkraut that they made and had been ripening for a few months, I of course didn't much care for it. full bellies conceeded to chores, and we all danced each pirouetting and bowing to the rythms as I cleaned up the kitchen and the others cleaned up the lounge. They then set up an amazingly comfy space to watch movies using mattresses, pillows, couch cushions, duvets and blankets. I got some popcorn ready and we dimmed the lights for a feature film! Love Actually was chosen, and Abby was distracted from getting her studing done. After the movie, during which Rosa fell asleep full on dinner, popcorn, and milk, Liz in her usual 'I don't feel like moving downstairs' fashion decided to stay put in the nest of pillows blankets and such. Even with the heat pump and the day's summer heat it got cold in the night, leading me to grab an extra blanket from downstairs. Something was bothering Rosa and she slept fitfully. And with the time change I realized a bit late that the additional light filtering through the curtains was sun and not just the strong moon. So ended a sunday of Being - with a kiss for sleeping Liz and a murmured salutation as farewell, I sped off on my bicycle into the dawn light.

Ciao

South Again

While busily enjoying the earthquake serenity and aftermath I learned that uni had been closed. Being on break I suddenly had an extra week to go adventure! James had mentioned doing the routburn at this time of year, and I knew he was going to the Invercargill area in Southland. A few quick texts and plans were laid to drive south and hit the routburn on the way back. I sent a few more texts to see if any friends wanted to join us. A few hours before departure I managed to convince Juli (from quail island) to join us.

I quickly packed my thing last minute on monday. And parting with Elizabeth, Rosa and the lambs, throwing a quick "see ya later" to the flatties, set off in Jame's Chariot to pick up Juli and we were off.

HOW

South from Christchurch past the boring not quite farmland and busy roads. Four hours later near Dunedin we pulled off at Moaraki Boulders. Almost perfectly spherical boulders litter the beach. Just shorter than a man and with a pockmarked exterior, kinda like basalt, they sit on the beach and are bathed at high tide. coming at low tide and with the light fading we were disappointed to have no sunset wonders in the thick clouds above and, while awed, unable to fully appreciate and absorb the wonder of it all. I got into it, literally, a bit more than the others though!

With the weather unpromising we decided to press on with the driving rather than wait around as we had planned for sunset photography at the boulders. Into Dunedin proper, a stop for some burgers, venison burgers, and kumera (sweet potato) chips (fries). More driving! we stopped for the night at a little rest stop where someone once had a farmstead, now just a muddy field, and a boulder with a plaque. The ground was wet, James lent me his bedroll and I enjoyed the tent while James and Juli flattened the seats and slept in the car. Next day saw our arrival in Tautapere, past Invercargill, near the southern extremity of the south island. A small sleepy town with one main street on which a few coffee shops, a tiny library, a toy shop, a general store, butcher, and a museum sit.

The museum boasts coffee so we go there first. But they are closed today, not serving, as they need to clean everything in preparation for a training. The place had 2 generations from 2 families worth of things. Cooking supplies, pots, pans, stoves, pianos, wedding dresses, hand mixers, scales, china, furniture... everything! very nice people there held us for a brief conversation. Then we discovered their homemade jams and Juli and I each bought some pure fruit and sugar homemade jam! she blackberry, me raspberry. James went off to his interview while I pretended to walk the track he was applying to lead.

Then off to Milford! Well we stop in Te Anau for dinner: a decent pizza, but with anchovies instead of artichoke, YUK! Then we drive up the Milford road to Deer Flats where I again sleep in the tent. Cloudy skies again so I dont bother staying up looking for stars but go strait to sleep. The morning bring clearing low clouds hugging peaks and a rainbow dancing in the water of the river. The first of many rainbows!

To the trail! and saying hi to the maintenance crew prepping to do some work on a small landslide over the trail we started out on the routburn Track

HOW!

we started with a rather quick pace, gently graded switchbacks cutting up the steep granite walls. And around us all is lush. James hops into guide mode a bit as he is personally testing his knowledge to see what plants he still has to learn to identify. But he points here and there and our progress is slowed as we, Juli especially, preoccupy ourselves with trying to remember them all. There were many ferns: hen and chicken fern, prince of whales fern, hounds tung, black fern, creek fern, crown fern; plus there were trees, caprosmas ,and four leafed hebes. I learned alot, but have promptly forgotten/jumbled it all up again.

We made a quick side trip to a key summit for some views. A key summit is one where the waters flow to three different coasts, here they went down the hollyford valley to the west coast, and then some other rivers to the south and east coasts =D. Here we poked above treeline to see sphagnum mosses surrounding green brown tarns along with the more rugged varieties of hebe. Scampering on rocks we lazily took in the amazing views of snow capped mountains under the thinning clouds and clear blue skies of sunshine!

Back on the trail we passed some waterfalls and drank our fill, then filled our bottles. Getting on midday we chose a nice sunny patch of trail to claim our own and eat at. Lunch today was a bit different for me. My ryevita of course was key, but on it today was salami, red onion, hummus, and tomato. mmm yummy twas. and the spot we chose ideal. Nice moss to either side for our bums and a trickle of water beside the trail added to the ambiance of dancing sunlight from branches in the breez and the singing of birds in the trees. But there was more trail to follow, majestic corridors to walk and more water to see falling.

A major water fall was the next arrival. we saw it from afar, then beat off the bush to a smaller one with a rainbow. I ran - splashing - down the stream bed to rejoin the trail. Then we were at the main event Earland Falls, and in an avalanche path - but we were more interested in scrambling over boulders to get to the falls than past them. Sweet massive chunks of granite litter a jumble of pools and streams before a missive cliff with cascades of water crashing from a above. From 30 meters away you can feel the mist dusting your face and getting closer all sounds merge into the roar. I scampered over the swetting rocks and, pausing - drawing up the hood of my rain jacket, ducked under a cascade to an alcove behind. The roar was engaging all was slightly dripping. A vapor saturated wind generated by the falls eddied into and through my jacket - I felt it reverberate deep within me. The streams of water before me formed dynamic curtains - frames to the clouds

and peaks across the valley. I soon jumped out and over the boulders once again, turning here and there to drink from the air and gape up the rock. The others were on a bridge, admiring from the trail. I spotted a sweet rainbow and another cool vantage and bouldered up on slippery holds to the top of a massive boulder. From there I caught the rainbow, and again took it all in. The views across the valley were sweet, but the falls got the most attention.

We sat in a low spot with the stream trickling near. talking slow, looking at the sun, hear the falls and smiling. We crossed a more obvious, but very dry, avalanche path that had about 20 years of regrowth on it. Then looking from another avalanche path we paused briefly to capture a large tarn nestled in a meadow of sorts. And above it the clouds and a pointed peak. James and I discussed the lighting and photographic technique (his shot's better!). Our botany lessons continued. Each of us testing our knowledge: julie and I attempting to internalize it all. The next addition to our knowledge was the dainty pineapple plant. maybe not so dainty. It has stiff and spiky looking leaves. But it sits out from the main plant a

bit and reminds me both of pineapple and of spider plants. (photo courtesy of Juli)The track was still in the well lit native bush, and still on steep slopes, but well made and gently graded. Sun still cam through in beams, and the path moved up and down over the slight ridges meandering down the steep slopes.

I fell behind a bit as I took in it all, and caught up to them at a bridge. They moved on and I looked around. And I realized that below the bridge was a massive boulder wedged between two cliffs. The stream passed down the slope, cascading and bouncing between mosses and stones as all the rest. But then passed down out of site before the large boulder. I looked up to share my amazement with the others but they had passed over another bump in the path. I was wide eyed and eager to explore the boulder below and examine how the water fell behind it, where it went. The sides of the stream had no good viewing angles, so I dropped my pack and scrambled down the thick slope (some corner of my mind recalled the ridge-line of mt pfief). Below the stream widened and flowed on a few routs, but i had come out below the boulder and need to to continue upstream to come beneath it. My that stream was amazing! The light then was a perfect balance of glittering rays, and the first pool on the stream caught them perfectly. Caught them and threw them up on the underside of a good sized boulder, looking like a perfect summer swimming hole. The rest of the stream

contained wonders all along it as well. A perfect fern, a sweet log with water running along it, a rocky sand bar here, moss there, dust motes in the sun, another boulder... Its almost a miracle that I made it back out from that breathing abode. I did make it under the boulder between the cliffs. Well, not directly under as there was a pool there and getting wet was for sunday. But I pressed a against a moist moss wall and smiled at another rainbow. It sat in the mist. The mist came from under the boulder, from the semi darkness of glittery mist that sat wedged, looking like an egg, between the cliffs. ahh, simply to breath fresh air and watch and touch and smell.

The final destination of the evening wasn't far off. I acctually didnt rejoin the others until we reached Mckensie hut, beside Mckensie Lake, beneath Mt Alice. I droped my thigns in the hut and went to find the others. I didnt see them by the lake, and thought I would save the hike to the end of the lake and hanging valley for later. Instead I did a short boulder problem and at the top got out my tools and wrote a post card to nick. Twas your birthday and I had no phone to call you! I sketched some more, of alice and the surrounding ridges. James returned and retired with a headache.

looking up mckensie valley

Juli and I headed off to see if there were any west facing vantages for the sunset. The valley flowed to the south and a little west, so we hoped to get on a ridge nearby. We wove through terminal moraine boulders, through some forest, and found the trail. Juli had a bad knee and didn't want to go far. when the trail suddenly started climbing I shot as chipmunks are wont to do. Up, up, through the switchbacks, into moss that whirred by. But no vantages appeared, nor were any seen when I gingerly balanced over a mossy log to the top of a boulder. What a

crazy place! The boulder had a good 50-90 cm off moss and dirt built up and a tangle of roots all over it. Very cool growth, and the downed tree log I had crossed had many moss covered relatives. I balanced my way down and skipped down the steps to meet Juli before she got too far. We descended to the base and then worked our way along the base of a boulder and into a nice and mossy region. I could have, and maybe did, find a spot to sleep on moss, but I preferred the mossy courtyard of snakeskin-saddle. We lay there and enjoyed, A rifleman bird came within 50cm of me as I lay quite still. No sunset, but still nice.

In the fading light we returned to the lack and made our way to its lowest end. There was a plethora of flat stones and I spent most of the time skipping them. I also stood on rocks in the middle of that little cove and just enjoyed the stillness of the place and some soft purples in the sky behind Mt Alice. Returning to the hut with nightfall we found a napping James. We gathered some sticks for the fire and started on dinner. The wood stove there was slow to light and didn't effectively warm the large - empty - space. Leftover lentils with some rice was an okay dinner, and the chocolate was yummy. James was feeling much better, and we ventured back to the bottom of the lake to shoot some star trails. Sitting enjoying the sky and trying not to chill we waited 30, then 40 minutes for the shots of Alice. Unfortunately the lens fogged up.

Morning, breakfast chopping fruit into musli while sitting perched on a rock in the still water of the lake. Julie brought some oatmeal as well, and her jelly. I indulged and fortified my breki with some jelly on rye. The water was tempting and I wandered along the shore of an island like peninsula that stretches towards Mt. Alice and breaks up the end of the lake into two entities. Over boulders, along rocky shore, the breeze. A hopping balance on points of rock in the water to go around another boulder. Through the cleft between the two halves of a split boulder. on the islands spit I stripped and refused. I wandered into the woods and sat on soft mosses. I went back and stepped, ouch ouch, with bear feet on the rock chips. toe in the water, yes - it's cold. skip some stones. Lying on a boulder, feeling the chill breeze wrap about me, soaking in sun with my entirety. Then, ok, step... oh chill. step... oh chilly. and in! ah whoop! ah ah! ohyea! the ice waters of POLAR BEAR! GOOD MORNING, no word of the day today, sorry. But yea dat feels good! cold but sweet and soft and cleansing. I dried in the sun and we set off from the hut with me absolutely beaming.

We were all happy and while we enjoyed the moss grown forest that had more moss than snakeskin-saddle. we had more fun on the sunny switchbacks looking down on the lake, remembering the already not too distant pleasures. And contemplating other sweet swimming spots on the lakes far end. We also found the first snow! Which occasioned snowballs as we passed old avalanche debris. Switchbacks lead us back and forth above the lake, and soon we were almost exclusively on the snow. The boot packing became was getting snow in our shoes and wearied us slightly, but our moods were too positive to be anything but a little sad when we passed over the ridge and said farewell to the majestic Mt Alice.

With Alice out of sight we were crossing over the ridgeline and looking again into the Hollyford Valley. James wanted to try and get pictures of a tarn and we all needed some snacks. But I ran off to a little roll of the ridgeline and did head stands. Doing headstands when 800m (2400ft) above a valley floor and on a ridgeline is hard. Especially with the wide open sky above, you feel extra unstable and my feet flailed wildly. There was a cool frozen tarn up there too. We now traversed for a while, enjoying unrestricted views of the jagged peaks and ridgelines across the valley. I keenly remember a few very sunny basins, a consistent and large snow slope, the entrance to a hanging valley, and one especially jagged ridgeline there. One thing that was obstructed was the Mt Tutoko, whose location we guessed but were never able to confirm. we crossed some more sweet

streams rushing raucously down and over sweet boulders to the trees and valley below. The plants here were Hebe's, grasses, and tussock. There was also a surprising number of grasshoppers on the trail. I snagged the first one and tried to have it jump on James, but he was kinda mellow. So I held him and made funny faces instead. The junction with deadman's track was a nice vantage. And all the while the sun was bright and the cumulous kept to the ragged ridges.

Soon we were back on some snow and making out way up to the saddle. We waved goodbye to the Hollyford track, to the short line of ocean and cloud to which it led. stomping, getting wet, cold feet. we went up some stairs and cleared them of snow (next group to go should have a clear path!) in the pass we stopped to lube up for protectiong

from the sun. Another half a kilometer on and we were at Harris Saddle Shelter. There we unloaded and ate lunch. a feast of pastrami and onion, and tomatoes, and hard boiled eggs, and other yummy sandwhich makings. We enjoyed final views of those jagged peaks of the Darrens. A Kea circled above, but no second one appeared to steal our food or cameras. The saddle itself had cool conicle summits on either side and It would have been nice to take the time and climb around them. We pressed on between them instead, bootpacking and breaking through to our thighs on occasion, other times staying on the hard top layer.

The true pass revealed a new world. The Immediate Mountains were still the same course jagged granit. And nestled below us was a large ice bound lake. The lakes drainage, some kilometers right of us, broke up into the mountains in a series of frozen waterfalls on dark -snow dusted - cliffs. Ice and snow was this world, and in time came some clouds to mute the contrast and increase that raw factor. Our toes tingled more and we kept moving, but with reluctance. Over some tussock hills of snow, along a narrow cliff edge, then crossing some avalanche paths. We had one section where I got a nice but slide going on the back of my pack. Another where we all just jumped off into the deep snow below and then struggled to dig our limbs out. A stream melts though the snow once. But for a time all is white and we stare at the snow covered rock still subdued by clouds which swirl about the pinnacles. The end of the lake is in view, it births a river which flows through a series of hanging valleys. And our way shows more tussock, and we can even make out the track poking out of the snow here and there.

Leaving snow line we pass the "end of avalanche risk area" sign and are greeted by a sweet boulder. I jump out of my pack and boulder up without pause, and soon james joins me to way goodbye to the frozen lake and take in the valley below and peaks around with cloud above. A sweet perch, and the photo credit for this one goes to Juli. The down climb was wetter and required slightly more care. But then we were back on the track which actually retained snow for a bit longer than the tussock.. soon enough it was gone. We did not move in to folow the river as I thought we would but continued to wrap around the valley, traversing at a gentile

grade. We passed some more cool boulders and then a small boulder leaning against a far larger one forms the roof of a tunnel for the track! I was excited and ran down swinging my legs and arms in a goofy manner to get under it. and the on the other-side of this boulder tunnel I found some rounded pebbles and made a cairn. We still didn't join the river. But we came down onto the flats and crossed a stream. Lookin towards the river we caught glimpses of waterfalls. I thought I was missing out but little did I know...

A series of large and powerful waterfalls awaited us when at last we joined the river above waterfall hut. We descended to a frequented perch to take pictures of one of the falls. I wanted more and delicately stepped my way across the river onto slick rock. The to the waterfall James was shooting. It fell narrowly into a neat pool, but the flow was swift in leaving it. To get out of the shot I crawled into a little cave, crevice next to the fall and lay there in my green jacket like another piece of moss. A tight fit, but cool to be a in a womb of the earth, even if it was a cold rather than a warm wet. I crawled out, BIRTH! and looked for a route up above the fall. I knew I was on an island and wanted to see the upper falls from it's tip. The ascent was touchy, on loose steep scrub and mossy wet rock faces. but I was up, and the falls were cool. but their memory dwindles as I think of the subsequent set of falls. I looked for an alternate route down but the way up was the best so I carefully down-climbed and moved over the rushing river from slippery bank to slick rock to slippery bank. We moved on to another photo-spot where I sketched and then stood and quickly relived my stint of roaming and climbing on the island that was before me .

First falls on left. center - cliff band above trees is what I climbed to be on the 'island' (photo by Juli)

Then it was down into the river itself, into it's gorge like depths, walking under vertical banks, jumping from rock to rock. I made my way up stream to a third waterfall that jetted down from a spot of light. Another small one rained down the overhanging bank. I waded into the water to get closer and drank the cool misty air.

...

I returned, wading, down the river. then around a large boulder continued down the river to explore. I was enthralled, excited, awed, in love, slightly scared, and eager to take in more. I loved the sensation of water round my feet and legs and cared not that an hour prior my toes had been completely numbed by the snow. into the water, out onto boulders, stepping across the main flow. Watching cascades, boils, eddies, dragging feet and hands through flows to feel it. Plunging hands into the water to pull out rounded rocks of colors and shapes of beauty and practicality: a spoon, an oval, banded, green, grey, quartz. Another waterfall and I stop thigh deep in the water behind a rock. The waters pour over and continue their jostled journey. I see no watery route down, so I turn back and take another way up the flows, seeing how it flows under boulders, and rushes between constrictions. coming out of the water i bring with me tokens of the journey and slowly return up the bank and make the last few hundred yards to the beautifully placed waterfall hut and the friends within.

It is perched on stilts, just barely under the treetops so one can see way down valley to a new mountain range - in looks akin to the flat topped southern colorado mountains. We have an adventure to the fancy lodge in search of fire wood. but find none. so we get some wet things out of the woods. We find some logs as well but they are green, the woodshed was empty so we made due. Fire was even slower tonight. We pulled some mattresses from the bunk room and laid them before the fire place. Diner was noodles and veggies with a honey sauce - yummy. Played some cards and fiddled with the fire. James and I made another long exposure from the deck, but the camera battery died so we didn't find out if worked. Juli, took the center spot to steal warmth from James and I in our puffy down bags. We all rose early and sat on the porch in our sleeping bags enjoying some pinks in the clouds and peaks down valley to the east.

sleepingbag sunrise (photo by Juli)

An easy final day out. All down hill and graded. I decided not to take advantage of the many showers provided by the waterfalls, and the others weren't keen, which meant an earlier start. Very nice, pleasant bush. The track stayed up a bit from the river as we traversed down valley. James Identified the various types of beech trees: hard beech, red beech, silver beech, mountain beech... but I've forgotten them now. Also finally saw a plant I had been very good at identifying the first day, but which julie had not yet seen, and now I cant remember it's name at all! One bridge was in shambles, attacked by an avalanche of water, trees and rocks, but the creek below easily crossed. We crossed more bridges as we came to the valley bottom. The bush became more open with wonderful mosses absorbing sunlight in amoebic arrays.

We were in another hanging valley, and the track traversed again as the river crashed into gorge littered with boulders and tree trunks. We crossed a small side creek that carved the bedrock wonderfully. Anchores could be seen in the swirling waters that hinted at the guided canyoneering tours that go down the creek. We passed on along the trail, and shortly passed a small group of three out for a day walk. James hurried ahead to make the end of the trail and the shelter with its restroom. Juli and I took a more leisurely pace, not pushing her injured knee. The shelter was abandoned, just one car in the lot, no hope of a ride into civilization. SO we continued walking along the road. The river joined another valley and larger flows, spreading out as braided rivers do, tumbling over the rounded rocks. We passed farms, a few cars passed us going the wrong way. One rushed by us without sparing us a glance. We saw a cow giving birth. We reached a sealed road, crossed a oneway bride on foot.

Julie stopped to tie her shoe, and a car came by and we got a ride after marching an extra 10km. We stopped at the head of lake wakatipu for some coffee and Juli bought a possum tail and tried her first L n P. Continuing on, our ride got a flat tire. Things seemed to go alright, and our driver was glad to have the help, but then the spare had a key nut on it that wouldn't come off. We flagged down another vehicle. In typical do it yourself fashion we tried all sorts of crazy methods but eventually resorted to hammering it off and sheering the bolt. The car drove fine after that and we made it to Queenstown. But it was now late in the day and we were unable to get a ride to Te-Anau. We walked another 7km back into town, a km or two out Juli manadged to flag down a ride, and the car behind them was tying to pull them over so we facilitated a funny reunion. Wonderful people told us of a ugandan choir performing at the church that evening. We settled into Juli's friend's aunt's Hotel for a very discounted rate, then went to town for dinner (mmm sovlaki). The choir was fine, and it was good to talk to the others for a bit. The woman was pregnant and going to do a water birth in a yurt soon, she had also studied some at naropa. I also talked to the driver of the children's tour bus. The next day we waited along time on the road but did manage to get to Te-Anau. One ride was with a big happy doug which enjoyed my scratching. In Te-Anau I went to doc to tell them we had survived the routburn while Juli and James hitched on to fetch the car. I then went to the beach and flew my kite, had some lunch and made some sculptures.

Some hitching moments courtesy of Juli

The drive home was long. Juli dozed off for a bit and then when she woke up was a bit wired and crazy. We arrived before midnight and parted ways, tired but content.