On to Queenstown

Queenstown is the adventure tourism capital of the South Island, maybe New Zealand, probably the world. Ever wanted to wing-walk a stunt bi-plane? You can do it here, as well as anything else you or anyone else has been able to conjure up. Apparently Kiwis are not particularly litigious. Or perhaps their judges and juries are not particularly sympathetic to people whose claims involve jumping off of towers, bridges, canyon cliffs, buildings, aircraft, tall trees, etc.

Apart from several LOTR sites en route (more later), our major stop of the day was at the old Kawarau River Bridge (over the Anduin, again), where bungy (sic) jumping was invented and perfected by one AJ Hackett. There are higher sites (also Hackett's) and more outrageous jumps, but this one was the original, very historic, founded way back in 1988 (AD). And, since we were driving right past it, in search of the Pillars of the Kings, we had to stop. It's not just a rope hanging off a bridge. There is a visitor center, an historic plaque, a multi-media show, a gift store, a wine bar/cafe, a restaurant, wine-tasting...and, oh yes, scores of people lined up to jump in an assembly-line procession, family and “friends” encouraging them from the sidelines. I was very slightly tempted, but unfortunately, or not, had shot my whole adventure tourism budget on the micro-flight. The oldest person to have done this sort of thing so far was 94. I'll come back later.

The day's LOTR sites included a variety of panoramic views, in Rob Roy valley (Misty Mountains south of Rivendell), in the mountains south of Wanaka, the Crown Range, and on the river by AJ Hackett's, the Anduin, again, which must be a great river indeed since it spans two islands. In the case of the latter, the search involved a stop, a tasting, and, ultimately, a purchase at the Chard Farm Vinyard, whose staff were very knowledgeable of Ring lore and local sites, and who produce a very fine NZ sauvignon blanc. This is the price faithful Ringers must pay. The last sites were in Arrowtown, a beautifully restored/preserved mining town that was crawling with tourists on a sunny Monday afternoon. The sites in question were two river shots, the Ford of Bruinen, where Arwen saves Frodo from the Black Riders (in the movie), the other the Gladden Fields (ditto) where Isuldur was ambushed by the orcs and lost the Ring. (I can't believe I am writing this stuff; Vicki is the Ringer in our crew). In any case, we found both fairly readily, for once, enjoyed some time on the river and in town, and then moved on to beautiful Queenstown, a small city on a huge high lake, ringed by tall mountains. We camped at the Queenstown Lakeview Holiday Park, a few blocks up from the downtown.

Natural Selection in Progress; at AJ Hackett's Original Bungy Site, Kawarau (Anduin) Bridge

Vicki at the Ford of Bruinen

The Mighty Anduin, The Great River, from the Chard Farm Vineyards

January 12, 2000--Arrowtown, near Queenstown, New Zealand

We stayed last night in our first "wild camping" at the end of a day hike into a fabulous canyon with Rob Roy Glacier at the end of it. Basically we haven't wild camped as much as we thought we would. Part of that is being strangers in a strange land, but also because of the sand flies. These are terrible in rural areas with lots of grass and bushes. It was very windy last night so they weren't a problem, but they were back this morning, so we packed up as quickly as possible. Today we drove to some additional LOR sites on our way to Queenstown. We are in the public library now--we had to pay (though only $1) to check email, so I thought I would use the rest of the time to blog. We did stay two nights in a backpacker's lodge in Wanaka and were very pleased with it. It was only $36 a night whereas camping without hookups would have been $18. We had our own room and the bath was down the hall. It was nice to be inside--the kitchen had everything including a blender, dishes, even special shelves in cupboard and refrigerator labeled with your room number. We spent more to rent a van we could sleep in, but had we known how great and easy the backpacker accomodations were, we might have gone with just a car and ended up paying about the same in total per day. We still hope to come back in the next few years for 4-6 months. I know we won't do the van route as we can barely climb up into the roof bed now! We are starting to think about buying the camper for Europe so that is exciting, too. I am also excited about getting back to Missoula for visits with our friends--whom I miss very much.

Kiwi Signage

Vicki and I love signage. Our house in Missoula featured sign forests all over, and we're still “collecting.” Kiwi signage is some of the best, at least from my peculiar perspective.

Men's Room ("Gents")

More Bathroom Humor

Department of Conservation Tramps and Hikes Are Very Well Signed

If Somewhat Understated

Keas Are Another Feature of the Gondwanalandian/Zealandian Flora and Fauna Here; They Are the World's Only Alpine Parrot (and Large Enough to Kill a Sheep); We Have Seen None--They Are All Evidently Over in Fiordland, Not Pining; Apparently German and Japanese Tourists Can't Resist Feeding Them

Schist Is Everywhere Here

Rob Roy, 2009

On the advice of some experienced senior trampers at the Altamont, we drove the 80km west and north of Wanaka (last half unsealed, with six fords) into the Mt. Aspiring NP to do the Rob Roy glacier day hike, out of the Raspberry Creek carpark. The hike took 4-5 hours and was exceptional, certainly the best day hike we have ever done. The trail climbed about a thousand feet, very gradually, through a canyon and then beautiful beech and fern forests, with ongoing views of Aspiring, Rob Roy, the glaciers, and the Rob Roy valley, whose walls featured more high waterfalls than I have ever seen before. The Rob Roy glacier hangs above the trail's terminus, and stretches a great distance. Dozens, scores, of great waterfalls plummet from the glacier and onto the cliffs below. We have seen many glaciers and glacial features, but never one so well put together, scenically, as this.

We got back to the Bongo about 6PM and resolved to “camp” in the carpark...too tired to move on, too enthralled with the surroundings, a really, really special place. (Camping in our case consist of putting up the roof). The Rob Roy valley must cover 60-75 square miles, most of it beautiful well-watered sheep and cattle country. The surrounding mountains are incredible. And Aspiring is at the head of the valley, overlooking it all.

Mt. Aspiring, I think

Part of Rob Roy Valley; click to enlarge and see if you can
count all 57 waterfalls in view; bonus question: elaborate a
defensible principle of individuation for waterfalls

Part of Rob Roy Glacier

Another Part: Need a Bigger Lens!

Wanaka in a Day

Well, we did not actually do Wanaka, so to speak, although our stay there, at the Altamont Lodge, was pretty satisfactory. Our morning included blogging, computer and photo maintenance, and the usual hand-washing of our few garments. In the afternoon we walked into town, 2 km, to avail ourselves of the free public library wifi only to find Wanaka is the only library we so far have encountered on the island that does not offer this service. So, after a stint at the cyber-cafe, we walked back to the lodge, taking in the manifold local activities at the parks around the lake: an antique auto show, farmers market, cricket, boating, para-sailing, and the rest. Wanaka is a happening place, said to be sort of a small auxiliary Queenstown. The terrain, from a distance, reminds me much of Montana. Mt. Aspiring and its glaciers and snow summit are off in the distance above Lake Wanaka. My only regret in visiting this place is that the we did not stay at the other backpacker lodge, the Wanakabackapacka.

Lucky Montana's Flying Circus (Para-sailing) Operates from the Shore at Lake Wanaka; a Speed Boat Pulls you Aloft, Hopefully Before Your Feet Get Wet Vicki Wantewd To Ask Lucky Where in Montana He Was From, But He Was Busy With a Young Client My Question Is, If They All Wear White, How Can You Tell the "Yankees" from the "Dodgers"? Lake Wanaka...About the Size of Flathead Lake, I'd Guess 

Rain from Hasst to Wanaka

Rain at Lake Hawea

On the Hasst Highway

Headlands Bluff, Near Hasst

Just before Hasst, heading south, one encounters what must be the world's longest one-lane bridge, perhaps the better part of a kilometer, with two “passing bays,” just in case you meet another vehicle. (The train track does not go this far south). The bridge crosses the Hasst River, which drains many mountains and valleys east of here, just before it meets the sea. The whole area is replete with geological features of earlier times, when the glaciers came right down to the sea.

From Hasst, the road turns east and follows the river up into the mountains to Hasst Pass. We did all this in the continuing rain, stopping occasionally to walk back to a waterfall viewpoint or some other feature. Lots of waterfalls in this terrain. The vegetation also changes, the fern trees and such giving way to the alpine (more properly, montane) flora to which we are more accustomed. Still richly forested, big trees, but not so dense and impenetrable as the bush.

Beyond the pass, one enters into a sort of lake country, now in or near the Mount Aspiring National Park. These are high, enormous lakes, remnants from the ice ages, many miles long and presumably very deep. We spent an hour or more driving past Lake Wanaka and then Lake Hawea. One of the photos shows Lake Hawea. Note rain.

At length, we arrived in the tourist town of Wanaka, on the edge of Mt. Aspiring NP, and decided to hold up here, at a “backpacker” lodge, for a few days, regrouping, hiking, etc.

Note on accommodations. Since Australia, we have noted the prevalence of “backpacker” accommodations everywhere. We have stayed at many, including the holiday parks. Essentially, they offer a range of accommodations, everything from a tent-site to en suite rooms, with a commons area including ample kitchen, appliances, utentsils, dishes, etc. The place we are at in Wanaka even has its own bar-ware. These accommodations may seem favored by the younger, gap-year set, but not really. There are always families, people our age (or nearly so), trekkers and trampers, all sorts of nationalities. It's a great way to travel, affordable, and a great way to meet others of like interests.

Don't Go Too Near the Glaciers

Beginning around Greymouth, on the coast, the land begins to change. Everything turns grey, the rock, the rivers, etc. The weather also turned grey. The sunny weather we have enjoyed, even in the rain forests, is over for a while. It is cloudy and raining intermittently. Looking at the map, we know that to our east are the Southern Alps, not particularly high mountains, but high enough to be intensely glaciated. The area around here receives about 5m of rain a year. Yes, 5 meters. Higher up, that means tons of snow, ice, glaciers, and glacial milk in the streams and rivers. 

Before turning east into the mountains, however, the road continues further south to Hokitika (“Hoki”), a small but picturesque enclave of artisans and craftspersons. We spent a few hours looking at the shops, particularly the jade and wood shops. Jade is all over the west side of the island, and the Maori used it extensively for all kinds of practical and ceremonial purposes. Hoki also features the Hokitika Sock Machine Museum, where one may not only view sock manufacturing machines of the past but also purchase fine socks, many manufactured locally. See illustration for evidence I am not making this up. No one could make this up. 

We proceeded on, now more easterly toward our goal for the day, the Franz Josef and Fox glaciers, relatively massive glaciers coming down from Mt. Cook & friends. At their height, they came nearly to the sea, but, we are now (for the last 10,000 years or so) in an age of glacial retreat. We took in the visitor center at the Franz Josef, drove out to see it, but decided it would be better to do our daily walk at the Fox glacier, a few more km south. We also theorized it might not be raining at the Fox. We did indeed walk out to near the edge of the Fox. Just a second before the picture below was snapped, the glacier calved—a shocking roar and then a splash nearly as high at the glacier itself. We had seen calving before, at Glacier Bay in Alaska and also in the Alps, but never anything quite so large as this one. You can see some of the debris in the lower right of the photo. Half an hour later, as we walked closer to the farthest viewpoint on the trail, we heard that two persons had been killed in the incident we had earlier witnessed from far away. Park rescue and recovery staff began passing us en route to the scene. We learned later that two Australian men, in their 20s, had ventured well beyond the authorized viewpoint and were indeed killed. In the news coverage, a Park official noted that “people just love to touch the ice.” The last photo above is of some of the debris as it washed pass us in the river. 

We drove on, further south, ever more grey, and camped at another holiday park, taking advantage of the kitchen and dining room facilities. Vicki fixed chicken cordon-bleu, and we spent much of the evening chatting with Kiwis from Palmerston North, en route to tramps in the south, as we are. Palmerston North is a sister city of our hometown, Missoula.

 Hokitika's World-Famous Museum of Sock Manufacturing      

Glacier meets the jungle: the Franz Josef Glacier

The Fox Glacier, just after a tragedy

Calving debris

Give Way

One of the South Island's many charms is the custom of occasionally combining railroad with auto/truck bridges. The bridges are mostly one lane anyway (regardless of length; sometimes hundreds of meters), population is sparse, traffic is light, so, what the hey, why not have trains and cars and trucks share the same bridge?

Here, south of Greymouth, as on all other New Zealand RR crossings, motorists are helpfully reminded that trains have the right of way.

Heaphy to Pancakes

Tuesday morning we hiked a few miles of the Heaphy Track, which begins at the campground, up through the bush to Scott's Overlook and Scott's Beach. From that point, the Heaphy turns inland and proceeds more or less east the rest of its length, some 82km. No water taxis on this tramp. I can't imagine trying to land anything in the Tasman surf we have seen.

We are trying to walk a bit every day in preparation for our next tramp, the Milford, in two weeks, way down south, much more strenuous than the Abel Tasman. After the walk, we drove south, back to Westport, visiting the public library there and its free internet, and then still further south on route 6, which is sometimes along the largely uninhabited coast and sometimes in the also largely uninhabited inland bush. En route we stopped for the “Pancakes and Blowholes” site, a major attraction, giant fractured cliffs of thinly-layered limestone jutting out into the sea, wonderfully sculpted, and featuring enormous sink-hole-like affairs through which the crashing sea blows and spouts during high tide. We were there at low tide, so did not see the full effect. It was most impressive, nonetheless. At the DOC visitor center we found what has to be one of the better t-shirts of the trip, with the “not all who wander are lost” quote from Tolkien. Really ties things together, especially here in NZ.

We camped at the Top 10 in Greymouth, stopping early so Vicki could fabricate and install mosquito netting in the Bongo penthouse, where we sleep. I steamed mussels for dinner; again.

The Road Does Not Go Ever On From Here, North of Karamea

Irimahuwhuero, Along the West Coast Between Westport and Greymouth

Pancakes and Blowholes

What Do They Eat When They Can't Get Hobbit?

Across the pass and into the west side of the island, we drove on to Westport and then north on the coast road, 67, as far as it goes, past Karamea to the campground on the beach at Kohaihai. En route we spent the afternoon exploring the truly pristine forest at Operara, including what has to be one of the world's largest natural arches...hundreds of feet high and across. The bush-—these few square miles never logged—-was the main attraction, and we took a long hike back through it, marveling at the giant trees, the creeks, pools, falls, and the rest. It is indeed like another world.

The evening, after a grilled steak dinner, we spent on the beach, watching huge breakers, 8-10 feet, and waiting for the sun to set over the Tasman Sea. There were two or three other parties on the beach, as far as one could see. The surf was enormous and crashing and not at all inviting.

Today was also our first experience of the west side's legendary sand flies. Whatever curiosity we might have had about them was quickly satisfied. They are indeed Satan's spawn. We are bathing in DEET.

Tasman Sunset, North of Karamea

In Operara bush

Treebeard

Very large arch, Operara

But maybe the above arch was only the second level;
it rested on a larger arch through which passed this
creek...

Aloft

"...he seemed to hear the noise of dim waves and to see a winged form flying above the waves and slowly climbing the air...an ecstasy of flight made radiant his eyes and wild his breath and tremulous and wild and radiant his windswept limbs...". Ever since a try at para-sailing over Chamonix in 1993, I have had an interest in polyester-based aircraft, especially the motorized versions known as “micro-lights.” They are essentially hang-gliders with motors attached. Also a cockpit and wheels. Vicki saw an ad in an NZ paper and gave me a scenic flight (tandem, of course) in a micro-light for Christmas. Aviation is an essential part of tourism, especially adventure tourism, and the Mouteka airfield is easily identified by the number of gliders, skydivers, para-sailers, hang-gliders, stunt aircraft, and, yes, micro-lights, above it. Tasman Sky Adventures was the vendor—they are the only micro-light vendor in New Zealand—and on Monday I had a GREAT 45 minute ride, covering much of the tramp we did last week. Part of the flight was scenic, over incredible terrain, coastline, and sea, and part was about the craft itself, communication, how it's steered, maneuvered, etc. The take-off and climb surprised me with their quickness. We got to the cruising altitude of 1,000 feet in what seemed like a few seconds. We continued at that altitude for most of the flight, except for Bark Bay and inland a bit over the mountains, going to 3,000. Airspeed was generally 55-60mph. Low and slow, how I like it. The landing, on a grass strip, was very smooth. I can't say I was in heaven, but I was very close. Thanks, Vicki. Oh, the plane had a Rotax engine, like our snowmobile! After the micro-flight, we provisioned up at Motueka, and, having previously done the wash, repacked, etc., we set forth generally west/south-west, across the pass, and spent the night at a campground on the great Buller river, 15km out of Murchison. En route we drove way up a valley to see Mt. Owen, site of the Dimrill Dale.

Junior Birdman

Anchorage Bay

Bark Bay

Some boaties at a cove

Time and Tide

The really interesting part of the Abel Tasman, apart from the unspeakably gorgeous scenery throughout, is the tidal crossings. The tides here run 4-6 feet, and the Abel Tasman track crosses several estuaries--but only at low tide. Thus the AT tramper carefully reads the tidal charts and proceeds accordingly. Our first was Torrent Bay, about a quarter mile across. One looks at these bays and estuaries at high tide and thinks they are just more of the ocean, impassable on foot. Hours later, they are flat, wet, sandy expanses, populated by abundant marine life, mud crabs, clams, sea snails, and so on. One walks right across, trying to crunch as few shells as possible. All have rivulets that have to be forded, so at length one removes boots and puts on sandals or just goes barefoot. The largest of the crossings was at Awarua, which the Park describes as “dangerous,” but only outside the 4 hour low-tide window. It was about half a mile across. Conveniently, there were two low-tides per day, generally between 7 and 9 AM and then 7 and 9 PM. I don't think we ever lost a minute waiting for the tides. They don't wait for us, as is well known. We did have to get up a bit early for Onetahuti, which was in the middle of the day's tramp, but when you're in bed by 9:30 that's not a problem.

The days of hiking were relatively leisurely, 10-15 km, with hills less than 400 feet. Carrying a backpack on the beach gets a bit tiresome. It's interesting how the sand works a slightly different set of leg and hip muscles. On a couple days we arrived at the hut early enough for me to do an extracurricular hike, the most memorable of which was a couple miles to Awarua Lodge for a beer and a pizza, half of which I carried back to Vicki at the hut. We had had lunch at the Lodge earlier in the day, Angus ribeye for Vicki, and lamb for me, both excellent, especially for such a remote place. I also hiked out to Separation Point on our return from Whariwharangi to Totaranui, to see the seals. (See illustration). Vicki's shoulder held up fairly well through the five days, a little achey on Saturday, our longest day, but otherwise OK.

We are back in Motueka now (Monday morning), having spent the night at a motel here, washing, repacking etc. More high adventure this afternoon.

The Hut at Bark Bay

A Typical Abel Tasman Scene

Yearling Seal Frolicking in a Pool

A Water Taxi

Vicki adds:

January 5, 2009-- Motueka, South Island, New Zealand

We are just back from the 5 day Abel Tasman Tramp and it was spectacular. The scenery would remind you of what the California coast must have been 80 years ago—but with more tropical vegetation. It was exactly what one would expect Hawaii to be if you could get ¾ of the people not to go there. Here a crowded beach in mid afternoon would have 4-5 kayaks pulled ashore with perhaps 6-8 people actually on the beach itself. In the morning and after late afternoon most of the coves were deserted, especially in the far Northern areas. What really appealed to me were the waterfalls with granite boulders and wonderful pools—so if you wanted to take a dip without the salt you could. Of course the water is quite cold by a native Miamian standards, but for you who grew up swimming in the Flathead it would be fine.

New Zealand is such a beautiful place that Mark and I have quite fallen in love with it. If we didn't have so many ties back to the States, I think we would seriously think about moving here. Property costs about half to 2/3 of similar US because salaries are also lower. But even though most of you think we are quite adventurous, we are too timid to leave so many friends, family, and places we love behind. However, a six month trip back here after Europe would now be high on our agenda.

Mozzies, Boaties, and Turning Custard

The Abel Tasman National Park occupies a northern coastline and interior of the South Island. It is still temperate land, and the coast itself is alternating golden beach, rocky shore, bay, hillside, cliff, and the “bush,” with its incredibly clear streams, waterfalls, and pools, its fern trees and other tropical vegetation. The Abel Tasman coastal track winds 51km across all this, up and down, to and fro, sometimes forest, sometimes beach, sometimes low-tide estuary. The trails--”tracks”-- all but paved and hand-railed, are the best we have ever seen, including the Khumbu in Nepal, where the trails support commerce as well as recreation. We parked the Bongo at the Abel Tasman Aqua Taxi's carpark at Marahau and walked into the park, unceremoniously starting the trek—Kiwis call them “tramps”--up and down, into the bush, down a cliff, onto the beach, and back again. No photograph can convey the richness and diversity of the scenery throughout. We had generally good weather throughout, mostly sunny, one cloudy threatening day (custard), one rainy night. The Abel Tasman sees some 30,000 visitors a year, huge by NZ standards, its largest park. (Compare Yellowstone at 3MM). In the 60 or more km we walked, I saw not one piece of trash (“rubbish”), not a cigarette filter, nothing. Yet there are plenty of people around, mostly “boaties,” people arriving or traveling on their own boats and kayaks, and day visitors arriving and tramping via water taxi. The water taxis run nearly the length of the park, stopping at the major bays. You can ride them to any point, hike a bit, then return from another point. Or you can simply ship your backpack to a given site and from there to another site. Very civilized. We wanted to carry our own packs, so we eschewed all this but for the return trip from Whariwharangi (actually Totarnui) back to Marahau. The number of backpackers, such as we were, is strictly regulated by the campground and hut system. The huts, four of them, hold about 24 persons each, the campgrounds about the same. Traveling north, as we did, one sees pretty much the same people from hut to hut, and forms acquaintances. For foreigners, this is invaluable and endearing. The hut trampers are mostly Kiwis, families, couples, a few Australians, and a sprinkling of Americans, and other nationalities. (We spent three nights in the company of Elizabeth, a civil engineer from Belmont, CA.) The Kiwis were marvelous in explaining their ways and their land and in welcoming visitors. As we marched northward, we stayed at the Anchorage, Bark Bay, Awarua, and Whariwharangi huts. All were spartan but quite comfortable, double-deck platform beds with mattresses, a common cooking/eating area, bathrooms with flush toilets, showers (cold), filtered water, and more. Even the campgrounds had running water and flush toilets. We spent New Year's eve at the Anchorage hut, the first of the four huts on the tramp. In the hut, we were all in bed and asleep by 10. No electricity. The fireworks and celebrations on the beach, a few yards away (the boaties and campers), awoke Vicki a few minutes past midnight, but not me. I slept in the New Year. Oh, mozzies are mosquitoes, of which we saw few, but rather more sand flies, and a few ankle bites.

A Fall and Pool in the Bush Oyster Catchers, Always Seen in Pairs, One Hunting, One Guarding...  

Happy New Year, All

It's Tuesday afternoon, December 30th, and I am blogging from the public library in Motueka, South Island, where we are provisioning up for our Abel Tasman tramp. It begins tomorrow morning and will last five days, 50-some km of beach, cove, and a couple tidal crossings (the trail goes under at high tide). When we get to the end, January 4, we'll take the sea taxi back to the beginning where we are parking the Bongo. So, our next posting will be on or about January 4.

In the meantime, Happy New Year to all. We'll be in a hut somewhere along the Kaiteriteri coast, eating freeze-dried backpacker food, hopefully warm but neither sun-burned nor mosquito-eaten, and enjoying yet another adventure.

First Day on South Island

One Ring to Rule Them All... Our morning project, having debarked safely at Picton after a smooth voyage was swapping out campervans. The green Bongo's AC went out, could not be repaired, so they swapped us a black one. The swap-out took most of the morning, but at least afforded the opportunity to inventory stuff. We then drove off, stopping in beautiful Nelson, where Vicki visited the jeweler/goldsmith who made the One Ring. For lunch, we stopped at the Mussel Pot, in Havelock, the green shell mussel capital of the world. It was a great green mussel theme-restaurant. I was in heaven. We camped at the Bethany campground in Maiateriteri, near the start of the Abel Tasman. And finally got some sleep.

Sunrise on Cook Strait

New Improved Millennium Bongo

Note Roof Decor

Day in Wellington, Night at Sea

Our day in Wellington was good, several hours at Te Papa, the wonderful still new and technologically up-to-date national museum on the harbor; another LOTR site on Mt. Victoria; strolling the downtown, great used bookstores; then a dinner and a movie (Twilight; Vicki's idea). After the movie we walked back to the Waterloo Quay to catch our ferry to the South Island. This was the Santa Regina, departing Wellington Harbor at 3AM, arriving at Picton at 6:30. Very little sleep for either of us.

Part of Te Papa and the Wellington Harbor

I love museums with quirky collections...a corrugated car

The Good Ship Santa Regina