New Zealand's End..Thailand Around The Bend

My final few weeks in New Zealand have been nothing less than amazing, full of excitement, trips and adventures. I’ll start by telling you about my birthday week:

It started off quite well with an opportunity to take a jet boat ride up the Rakaia Gorge through the resort I have been working at, Terrace Downs. It just so happened to be that there was a last minute cancellation with a group of guests at the resort, and since the boatman already had the boat in the water, ready to go, they graciously offered the ride to whichever employees could make the trip. So, two of my best New Zealand friends, Kat and Holly, along with a few others from the Terrace Downs team and I jumped on the opportunity and raced down to the Rakaia Gorge to catch this jet boat ride. When we got there, the boat was all ready to go like they said, so we hopped in and after your typical “Keep your arms and hands inside the boat at all times” speech, we were off with four-hundred horses underneath us, shooting us over the beautiful turquoise, glacier fed river. Our driver Chris was pretty keen on scarring us silly by going full throttle towards a jutting rock or cliff face and then at the last possible second turning the jet boat, splashing the perilous rocks, getting so close that the spray hitting the rocks would come back at us, soaking us as well. The roar of the massive engine and the incessant screaming of the girls in the boat, and well, maybe myself as well, was all too much fun as the brisk air and freezing cold glacial water jolted our adrenaline into gear, making the experience all that more extreme.

This entire time I was so entranced at the beautiful cliffs and scenery around me, I had forgotten to look below me, and when I did, I nearly jumped out of my seat in fright as I soon realized that there was literally less than two feet of water beneath us. Chris later explained that because of the boat being a jet boat, it really only needs a foot of water to suck in and jet out the back as it hydroplanes across the top of the river. There were so many instances where I thought we would scrape the bottom or hit a protruding rock, but the beast of a boat soared over it all, unscathed and free from harm. He said that there were many places along the river that if we had slowed down, we actually could have scraped or even gotten stuck, but his excellent driving experience proved true as we somewhat safely sped up through the gorge.  

Coming to a technical stage of deep rapids, where I thought the boat was going to need to turn around, but to my surprise, Chris said that we were all going to need to hold on tight as he attempted to go up the rapids and onto higher river. No way, I thought to myself. This isn’t possible. He was joking, right? Nope. As he began to rev the engine to full throttle, we began swerving and splashing our way up the rapids jumping from one deep spot to the next. We were like salmon trying to make our way up stream, literally getting air, out of the water as the rapids did everything they could to inhibit us from continuing. And, as I did everything I could to hold on to not only the boat but also my lunch, I then got that rare feeling that I love so much. That feeling that I crave. That feeling that I search for where I’m not totally sure I’m going to be okay; riding that thin line between chaos and control. I could feel the adrenaline hitting my system; my eyes dilating and my heart beginning to thump as goosebumps arose from all over my stimulated body. Reaching the crest of the rapids, it was like the boat gained full traction and shot forward, endorsing an uncontrollable yaaaahhoooooo that I’m sure echoed all throughout the gorge, letting everyone know just how electrifying this boat ride was. Even Chris had a grin ear to ear as we shot out from the rapids. I think we both share that passion for thrill and excitement.

Now at a different section of the river, the scenery began to change a bit; there were waterfalls protruding from the cliff sides, similar to those I had enjoyed so much in Guam, yet instead of being fueled by tropical rain water, these waterfalls were gushing icy cold glacial run off. Hundred year old evergreen trees held on to the deteriorating cliff line, roots exposed, almost as if reaching out for a solid grasp on whatever earth they could hold. Some weren’t so stalwart, showing remnants of their defeat extending out of the water, hundreds of feet below that we would have to maneuver around. In the far distance I could see acres of green pasture with little white dots speckled all over it. The sheep in New Zealand outnumbering people twelve to one is very apparent almost anywhere you go.

Finally reaching a point where the tour came to a turnaround, we began heading back down river going with the current now, increasing our speed noticeably. Skipping over the shallow waters, we soon reached the rapids again, bouncing down them, much quicker this time, back onto the lower part of the river. Chris had one more trick up his sleeve for us as he slowed down to speak over the rumbling engine. He said that when he twirls his finger in the air, we have to hold on as tight as we can. With disturbed looks on all of our faces, we all nodded our heads in exciting anticipation of what was about to happen. He then sped back up, sending us down river and sure enough when there was a wide open clearing of water, Chris twirled his finger and we all gripped the boat until our knuckles were white. Watching Chris then push the throttle all the way forward, while simultaneously wrenching the steering wheel to the left, we began to swing around, spinning across the top of the water. While doing a full three-hundred sixty degree turn, everything went into slow motion as a chorus of screams went up into the air. With the background becoming a blur of glacial spray, I could see the sheer thrill of terror on everyone’s faces as we spun. Coming to slushy halt, the entire boat was in a frenzy of laughter and amusement at Chris’s stunt. I was loving every bit of it, and was excited as we went again down river and saw Chris’s finger yet again begin to twirl in the air. Holding on tight, we spun for the second time, shooting water all over the place.

I was sad to have ended the boat ride, but after thanking Chris for an amazing time, I then began to think about my next trip planned for my birthday. Being that my flat mate Dustin and I have been working hard here in New Zealand, well sort of, we rarely get time to hang out aside from the occasional tennis match or movie at the house, so we decided that since we both coincidentally have birthdays within a few days of one another, that we could take a trip down to Queenstown to check out the “adventure capital of the world.”The drive down south to Queenstown was about five hours and was truly one of the most beautiful drives I have ever experienced. We went by beautifully beaming blue lakes, rapid rivers, lush green valleys and dry, high desert. We stopped a few times to grab a few pictures of the amazing scenery, but we were determined to make it down to the Queenstown area before dark to meet up with a couple we had me here in New Zealand. They were living just outside of Queenstown in an old mining town called Arrow Town. There are very few places in New Zealand that I would actually consider cities, which is great. Most towns are small and populated with less than three thousand people, so almost everywhere you go, you get that small town feel.  Our friends, Ray and Melissa, showed us Main Street that looked like something straight out of an old western movie, aside from the new pavement. The town had its own brewery where we stopped for a few drinks before retiring early for the night, eager to get a jump start on exploring Queenstown the next day.

Waking up early, Dustin and I said our goodbyes to Ray and Mellissa and headed down the road towards Queenstown. Only about twenty minutes away, we arrived quickly, and began searching for our hotel we were to stay at that night. Unbeknownst to us, the “hotel” was actually a youth hostel, which was great because it gave us a chance to talk with other people our age and get an idea of what we should do with the next twenty four hours of our time there in Queenstown. After almost everyone telling us to do a pub crawl, we decided that we would walk around town to see what maybe some of the locals had to say about it. Walking up and down the tourist filled streets, we soon found out that almost nobody was truly local. This entire town was comprised of travelers, backpackers and foreigners working for accommodation. We literally did not meet one person that was actually from Queenstown. This was most accurately the definition of a tourist town. Everyone was very friendly though, and everyone was all about having fun. Being that it was our birthday, almost everyone said that we had to do the pub crawl we had heard about earlier. We figured we would give it a try, but before that we decided to walk around a bit more and luckily we did because we ended up finding a burger joint called “Ferburger” that was most definitely the best burger I have ever had in my life.  We also stopped by the lake that went right up to the town’s edge. It was absolutely beautiful; mountain ranges all around us with a substantially large lake right in the middle with a cozy little town that was more quaint than a southern bed and breakfast.

With the sun setting behind the mountains, orange rays of light made every attempt to beam through the dark grey clouds, which weren’t looking very promising for dry weather. Luckily though, after a short hour of rain it remained dry and off we went to our pub crawl on schedule. Our large group of thirty-plus people started off at “The World Bar” which was an appropriate name being that almost everyone we met was from a different country. I loved every bit of it; talking with Russians, Germans, Brits, Kiwi’s, Aussie’s etc. Everyone was there for the same reason; to have a great time.

Dustin and I had a great night, going from pub to pub, all of which were unique and fun in their own way. One that stood out in particular was the last pub we went to called “Below Zero” which was an Ice Bar, where our entire group had to put on coats due to the cold temperatures the pub is kept at in order to keep all of the walls and furniture frozen. Everything was made out of ice. It was truly a sight to see, especially with all of the frozen artwork that was chiseled out that day.

The next day Dustin and I drove back through the scenic, New Zealand countryside to Methven where we continued working our jobs, going on the occasional hike and playing the intermittent tennis match until finally it was time for the next adventure. Saying goodbye to the close friends I have made in New Zealand was hard, as it always is. They truly made New Zealand a great experience for me.

As I now sit on this plane, looking out at the white fluffy clouds towards the horizon, I can only imagine what adventures Thailand, Cambodia and Laos are about to bring me.  I will be meeting my lifelong friend Tommy, who I consider a brother, in Bangkok tomorrow. From there, everything and anything is possible. Everything and anything…

Herbert the Hedgehog

My, there have been some incredible changes that have occurred in the last month. It has certainly been a busy one with quite a few ups and downs, twists and turns, but what else would you expect?

From the time I had written my last blog until today, I have been in and out of four jobs, two hospitals, and three cities.  Let me begin with the first job: Working at the lodge for accommodation was great for getting into the swing of things here in New Zealand, but I needed to start making some money for Thailand, Cambodia and Laos, tickets booked for March 13^th by the way. So, when a local friend had told me about working with him driving Windrowers (A Windrower is an extremely sophisticated, hundred thousand dollar machine that is used to cut crops), I jumped on the opportunity due to the fact that I would be making quite decent money, but more so because I have never had any farm experience whatsoever and thought it would be great to drive this giant tractor of a machine and do something new and foreign to me.

 I was excited and eager to learn this new skill. I thought, “How hard could it possibly be to drive a tractor up and down a field cutting crops? I mean, I went through four years of college learning about business and communication, I’ve trekked eleven days throughout the Himalayan Mountains to Mount Everest, and I’ve even survived India for crying out loud. Farming should be a breeze right? Wrong. Very wrong. I might not have ever been so wrong in my life. Farming is not easy. Driving tractors…not easy, especially during peak season with deadlines and combines right on your tail, picking up everything you are cutting and cramming it into a giant, seven foot tall ball of produce. I don’t think I have ever been so stressed out in my life. I worked for two weeks, pulling fourteen hour days, trying to master the skill of driving the Windrower, but when it came down to it, I wasn’t cutting it (pun intended). The farmers were unhappy because the crops weren’t cut the way someone with years of experience would, my boss was unhappy with his outrageous, unmet expectations, but most of all, I wasn’t happy, and that is one thing that I ensure through and through with my everyday life. If I don’t like what I’m doing or I’m unhappy with my current situation, I go straight to the source and change it. Without happiness, what’s the point? Don’t mistake this calamity for me having a lack of will, determination or drive, because my dad has taught me much better than that; it just wasn’t meant to be for me.

I’m pretty sure my boss was a bit relieved when I told him I wouldn’t be able to continue working for him. It was the right decision, besides I had new issues to deal with. Since my travels throughout India, I have been left with a few scars, if you will. I won’t indulge you with all of the details of my infirmities, but I will tell you about the bug bite that went completely wrong. Living in New Zealand for a couple months now, my sicknesses from India, mentioned in previous blogs, carried on less and less each day, however this one bug bite continued to itch. It was a pest, a burden, a small nuisance that just wouldn’t buzz off. Itch creams didn’t stand a chance against it; soaking it in hot water for hours made it laugh, poking and prodding it only made matters worse, until one day I woke up with a hole in my arm. The hole was small…at first, but then it seemed to get angry and start to puff up like it was trying to prove something in my attempts to vanquish it. Soon enough it looked as though I was wearing a small boxing glove. I could no longer see any of the veins below my elbow; then I could no longer tell where my hand began and my wrist ended; then hole began to grow. My friends and family became quite worried at the mere glances they would catch of it and ask if I’ve seen a doctor. Being that I don’t like hospitals, I continued to put ointment on it, only to annoy it even more. I finally gave in and went to the Methven Medical Center to get some “professional advice.” After many, “Ummms” and “welllllls” I was given a small novel of doctor’s notes and prescriptions to fix myself: An incompetent pain killer to take away the pounding throb that thumped through my right arm,  a type of sleeping pill to get me through the nights when I couldn’t take the pulsating beat of this rhythmic wound, a slew of antibiotics that could make a horse weak in the knees, and of course more topical creams that would only get rejected back out of the increasingly large hole that incessantly oozed in defiance like the yolk from a cracked egg.

It was recommended that I see a second doctor in Ashburton, a larger town about thirty minutes away, to get a second opinion. So, I figured since I was already getting lab work done there for another ailment I’m going through, that I might as well see what the other doctor there had to say about my deformed wrist. It seems that at first glance, everyone has the same perturbed look in their eye that you just know isn’t good. This doctor wasn’t any different. He told me it looked pretty bad. Great, just what I wanted to hear, however after spending ten minutes reading through my prescriptions from my other doctor, he said they should suffice.

 I live in a small town, which is great for me never knowing what “small town feel” is like, and when the horrified cashier at the market asks, “Bobby, what did you do to your arm?” it was fun to say, “Oh, it’s just a bug bite.” It was a popular topic among my fellow neighbors, acquaintances, friends and co-workers. So much so that IT grew a name. Paul seemed appropriate; named after the alien in the new movie, Paul. Paul fought hard to continue his residence on my arm and didn’t go down without a fight, but as the slew of medications slowly wore him down, he began to deflate and, “Weep” as the post lady put it, until he was merely just a scab.

I’m not going to lie, this was probably one of the more serious injuries I’ve had traveling, and I probably didn’t take the most appropriate measures in prevention or treatment, but not to fret, for as I am writing this now, I no longer have a hole in my arm; just the purplish, pink scar that reminds me that bug bites should be taken more seriously now. Especially ones from India.

Finally able to get my mind off of Paul and onto my next job, I was able to find work through a friend at an upscale golf resort. Terrace Downs Resort needed a “kitchen hand” to prep food; however I have now turned into the “resort hand” as I do everything from putting away golf carts, to dropping off guest’s luggage, to washing dishes, to doing inventory, oh, and of course working in the kitchen. I really don’t mind it actually. All of the different tasks keep it interesting and have allowed me to meet quite a few interesting people from all departments. One of the great perks to the job is playing golf for free on one of New Zealand’s premier golf courses that lies on the Rakaia Gorge. My previous blog was about the Rakaia Gorge and now I am playing golf on its edge! Being able to eat some of the five star fine dining the restaurant provides is quite the treat as well. I have been able to try all sorts of new meats they serve such as Ostrich, Hare, Mountain Ram, and of course Venison.

I am truly content working this new job. Its sole purpose is to pay for plane tickets and travel throughout Thailand, Cambodia and Laos, but I have met some great friends that have shown me some of their favorite places around New Zealand. Last week we went up to Hanmer Springs which is an area of natural hot pools. What an amazing experience it was to bask in the naturally heated pools, enjoying every bit of heat coming directly out of the earth. Even though there was a wisp of surfer in the air, the pools were so relaxing and calming, that I hardly seemed to notice it. My friends and I spoke very little while we were in the pools, however we all seemed to know exactly what each other was feeling through the tranquil moans and groans of relaxation that we would communicate through the hazy steam that lingered on top of the water where our peaceful faces lie smiling in contentment. I didn’t want it to end, but as the pool attendant stirred us from our comatose state to tell us that the pools were closing, we all reluctantly removed our pruned bodies from the warm water and headed back to the hotel.

Now, you might be wondering what that fourth job is and well, in my ambitious efforts to make my South East Asia trip as amazing as possible, I decided that since I do not start work at Terrace Downs until 3pm, that I might as well do something with my mornings, so I decided to try my hand at being a barista at a local café. It’s pleasant work opening up shop and making various coffee drinks, but I would have to say that the regulars are my favorite part. Like I mentioned before, it’s a small town, so the local coffee shop is sort of the place to be in the mornings if you want to hear the latest gossip or see half of the town’s population come through for their morning drink. So many different personalities and people young and old come through, some ready to start their day, some not so ready, but either way it makes for an entertaining morning, and allows me to meet some people I wouldn’t ordinarily meet. In case you’re wondering, the latest gossip is about some young buck buying old man McAllister’s land and converting it into a dairy farm.

On even more exciting news, while working at Terrace Downs, my quirky head chef mentioned that he used to have a pet hedgehog. What!? So after talking to him about it, he explained how they are similar to having Guinea Pigs or Hamsters and that they can be domesticated quite easily. He also said that once they get used to you they will follow you around and be just like a regular pet. Shocked in my own disbelief, I was determined to find out if this was true and even more determined to have a pet hedgehog of my own. What a perfect New Zealand pet! So one late night after work I was driving home and saw a little spiky pinecone looking object trying to escape the beaming lights of the car. Pulling over, I knew at once that he was the one. He was small enough and young enough to domesticate and make my own pet hedgehog. Carefully trying not to get impaled by his spikes, I scooped him into a cardboard box. As he looked up at me with his tiny little black eyes and his little pointy snout I knew he was about to be an adventure of a pet. Upon arriving at home, I was relieved and glad to see that Dustin, my flat mate shared my enthusiasm for this less than ordinary pet. But what were we to name him? Sonic? No, we couldn’t choose such a cliché name for our hedgehog. After a bit of deliberation we knew that Herbert the hedgehog was the name for him. He really has been a great pet and now that we’ve gotten know one another a bit better, we’re now comfortable using nick names like Herb and Herbie. Also names such as the Herbinator, Herbasaurus Rex and the Herbitron 5000. Herbie loves wet cat food, but we just can’t help but feed him table scraps as well; he’s just too cute when he begs. For dessert he eats moths, which is convenient with the amount of moths that find their way into the house. Now I know what you are thinking, “What are you going to do with Herbster when you leave?” It has already been arranged to donate little Herbie to Mrs. Nichols 3^rd grade classroom at Windwhistle Elementary to be their official adored class pet. He may not be your typical pet, but he honestly is great to have around.

Planning ahead, I have already taken off work to celebrate yet another year of my life. My flat mate Dustin, who drives the Windrowers, is also celebrating his birthday, so we decided to go big and head down South to Queenstown to check out what this much talked about town is all about. It is said to be the adventure capital of the world with everything from skydiving, to bungee jumping, to rock climbing, white water rafting and much much more.

It is incredible to think that I’ve been living in New Zealand for over three months now. Time sure has flown by, and I’m sure that before I know it, I’ll be packing my bags for yet another adventure in Thailand. In the mean time however, I have much more to explore here in New Zealand while I can. This place truly is majestic.

 My landlord's awesome dog

 Terrace Downs from afar

 Teeing off on the 14th hole

 Heading towards the Chalet's

 Looking down on the 18th hole

 Looking down on the Rugby Field

 Amazing sunsets on Mt. Hutt

 Herbie the Hedgehog and I

 Herbie giving his stone cold look

 Ray and I on the 13th hole

 Cam, Ray and I on the 14th hold overlooking the Rakaia Gorge

Rakaia Gorge

During one gorgeous, sunny, summer day here in New Zealand Melissa, Ray and I had just finished work at the lodge and decided that we had to take advantage of this spectacular weather and head out to one of the dozens of amazing sights to see around us. Being that it doesn’t get dark until 10pm here during the summer, we had plenty of time to go out and explore something new.

We had decided on a hike only twenty minutes away from us at the Rakaia Gorge. Melissa had mentioned that she drives by it quite a bit on her way to her other job and that it looked like a beautiful hike, so we said why not, and headed out towards the gorge. We had read that this hike wasn’t going to be nearly as intense as some of the summits we had conquered weeks prior, but would still offer some amazing views and nice beaches along the river going through the gorge. Passing over a bridge, we had our first glimpse at the turquoise river rushing beneath us. It reminded me of the rivers I had seen on my trek to Mount Everest base camp, with the same skew and tint to the water caused by the glacial silt that was being carried down from the melting snow. Such an amazing effect it has on the water.

Beginning our hike along a narrow trail, we began to zigzag up the side of a steep incline, making our way up the side of the gorge. As we were hiking along the steep slope, we couldn’t help but notice our view of the gorge improving dramatically each hundred or so feet we climbed. Up and up we went, opening our field of view more and more. With every picture I took, the view only improved more and more until I was able to capture the entire gorge, valley, mountains and forest in my view. I would soon find out that this was just the beginning of many more incredible views and pictures to be taken.

 Hiking along a slightly more level terrain now, we found ourselves above the brilliant river below, sun shining down on us, with the occasional white puffy cloud giving us the perfect amount of shade while the cool breeze that ran through the gorge cooled us off. Many beautiful flowers grew naturally along the trail. One favorite of mine is called the Lupine, which as dozens of small, vibrant flowers encompassing a tall, sturdy stem standing sometimes five feet in height. Often we would find ourselves wading through tall green grass that would hide us up to our chests. Life seemed to flourish so radiantly here. All of the plants and trees were lush and full, exotic flowers dazzled with color, dense fields of grass bowed to the momentary breeze only to return its tall stance, reaching out to the warm rays of sun above. This hike was a sensory overload. Our progress was at a snail’s pace due to the incessant picture taking and gawking at nature’s splendor, but that’s okay because it was well deserved.

 Continuing along, we saw how the river took dramatic turns, making large “S” shapes as it found any means necessary to move through the geography and out to the ocean. The river made its way around large paddocks of land that farmers had put to good use with cattle and crops. It had cut through sections of rock and sediment that was clearly caused by a flood one of the previous years. Due to the river’s low water level during this time of year, parts of the river bed below were exposed and had created small sections of beach that Ray Melissa and I couldn’t help but explore. Coming down from the high cliff sides of the gorge, we came out to one of the rocky beaches. Dipping our feet in the water, it was a bit too cold for me, but Ray jumped in without thinking twice. As he started swimming against the current, it was apparent at how cold the water really was. It helped him swim faster though and after swimming in one place for about a minute or so he let the river take him down a ways to a section easier to exit. Luckily the sun warmed our skin pretty quickly, so the glacier waters didn’t have much of a lasting effect on Ray. After realizing how tranquil this secluded beach was, we decided to have a snack and rest a bit under the warm sun. Lying on my back, watching the cotton ball like clouds pass overhead, with the blue sky placing a perfect background on the mountain range in the distance, I couldn’t help but think how amazing this all was, and the hike wasn’t even over yet.

Getting up from my ponderous moment with nature, we all headed up river to see what was around the bend. What we came across seemed to be a tube carved out by the river. The water level must have stayed at that height for a long period of time, because as we walked along what seemed to be half a pipe. In fact, walking through it felt like I was surfing a barreling wave; with one side open and the other side curling over my head. Quite the surreal experience I thought to myself as we popped out of the rock tube into an incredible view up the gorge. We all wanted to just hop in the river and get swept down to where we had left all of our stuff, but we figured that might not be the best idea for safety reasons, so we walked back along the shore, grabbed our stuff and continued the hike. Coming up from the beach, we were led into a totally new landscape of dense forest. It was nice and cool all throughout this part of the trail due to the thick canopy above shading the forest floor. The ground was rich and soft from mulched leaves and plants that had succumbed to the damp environment around us. It was incredible; one minute we were walking through fields of tall grass, the other we were heading up river along a rocky shoreline and now we find ourselves in a wet, shaded forest.

While we were in these damp woods, we noticed a trail leading off of the trail we were on. Curious, we took a hard left and proceeded to adventure down this inexplicable pathway to try and figure out its presence. With the brush and plant life closing in on us, we realized that this pathway was quite unbeaten. While fighting our way through the shrubbery, I nearly fell over as I kicked a large hard root. Catching myself on a tree limb, I noticed that I didn’t just trip over a root, but of all things a metal beam. What could a long, large metal beam be doing way out here? Then as I uncovered the earth around it, I discovered yet another metal beam. Tracks! We then began following the tracks down off of the trail and sure enough they led us to a cave entrance. It was a mine, and unfortunately a closed down mine that was blocked off from entering. We weren’t even able to go in and explore the mine. It was okay though, we probably would have gotten ourselves into some trouble anyways. There was a pretty cool little stream that was coming out of the cave though that we cooled off in though and what was ahead of us was about to blow our minds anyways.

Emerging from the forest we came to what seemed to be a lookout point, because before us was possibly one of my top five most beautiful sights I have ever seen. The bright turquoise water was cutting through the steep gorge covered in lush green foliage thriving along its slopes. The glacial water glimmered against the visible rays of sun that beamed through the white billowing clouds that floated by, looking picturesque against the crystal clear blue sky. The mountain range in the background towered above it all in its monumental glory as it presided over all the beauty beneath it. I tried my best to capture this memorable sight exactly how I saw it, but like so many incredibly beautiful spectacles I have tried to arrest before, it just doesn’t turn out the same as that one moment. We spent a good twenty minutes at this spot, trying to take it all in, but after realizing it was impossible, we began our journey back to the trail-head.

On our way back, we had taken a different route along the plateau, overlooking all that we had just gone through. It was beautiful, and right before we began our journey back down the zigzag hill, I was able to get a picture of probably one of the most beautiful places to share with someone. Two chairs and a large wooden table were set up at the edge of the gorge with probably the second best view I had seen that day. Probably the most romantic spot to take your loved one to. Continuing on down the trail, the sun began to drop from the sky and change the scenery. Long shadows began to cast, the temperature began to drop and the mountain range in the distance was just a silhouette now in the rearview mirror as we drove away from the Rakaia Gorge. 

Don’t forget to follow this blog if you enjoy reading, Thanks J

Mount Potts

With work staying consistent, finishing around 11am, I continued to explore Methven finding all sorts of new things. One of my favorites being the Methven walkway that took me through enormous pine trees, along beautiful lupine fields in full bloom and over lazy rivers that continued to carry glacial silt down from the mountains, turning the river a bright blue aqua color. I've been so happy and content just spending time out in the fields, going on walks or jogs around town and just enjoying the scenery around me. The beauty around here just never ends. I can spend hours and hours exploring new places only minutes away that will have me even more excited to go out the next day and find more.

Last week a couple of guys that work for a swathing company (large tractors that cut crops) had the day off and wanted to do a hike with Ray and I. Their names are Thomas and Dustin and they work quite a bit, so any chance they get to explore, they are just as excited to get out there and do it as we are. Ray had another mountain in mind to summit that was quite a bit larger than the last and the drive would take us right through the valley where a portion of Lord of The Rings was filmed. I’m not a huge Lord of The Rings nerd or anything, but as we drove through the valley, I could clearly remember the scenes where this valley had been filmed. It was incredibly beautiful. It was no wonder why some of the movie was filmed here. The valley was surrounded by mountains, with one large hill right in the middle, sticking out like a monument. All along the mountain sides you could see rivers carving avenues down towards the valley until they all congregated into one large river that beamed light blue in color.

This drive was extraordinary.  We ended up passing the largest horse drawn carriage I have ever seen. It had six very large, stunningly beautiful horses pulling it as it went down the dirt road. As we passed I thought that if the drive was this spectacular then I couldn’t even imagine how superb the hike up Mount Potts was going to be.

Parking the car a bit off the dirt road, we gathered our gear and began our ascent on Mount Potts. Up and up we went along an emergency access road that was quite easy to hike. Many times we would begin walking backwards just to look at the amazing sight that was behind us  as the valley became only more and more grand the higher up we went. This hike was so fantastically different than Mount Somers, that it was hard to think that they were less than an hour away from one another. While Somers was lush and green with the terrain changing multiple times, Mount Potts was much more barren and rocky but in a picturesque sort of way. As we continued up the access road the few trees and patches of grass began to draw even thinner than they already were. We all decided to spice things up a bit and get off the access road and try and take a short cut up a very steep incline. We dramatically escalated quickly up the loose rocks, trying to dodge the stones that came tumbling down from the guy ahead. We were on all fours trying to get up to the top, gripping whatever we could without losing ground. Finally we hit soil and grass where we were able to get a hold much easier as we were pulling ourselves up the still very steep slant by the base of tall grass.  

Reaching what we thought was the top; we looked down and saw the access road that we were once on, continuing up even higher than we were. We unfortunately were going to have to somehow get back down to that access road if we were going to go any higher, but the only way down was by sliding down a precipitous slope that had drop offs and small cliffs. As we looked at it, we weren’t sure if it was a good idea or not to try the descent, but as Ray and Thomas began sliding down, border line out of control, we realized this might actually be quite a bit of fun. Millions of tiny rocks carried us down as we surfed an avalanche of shale and pebbles. Hundreds and hundreds of feet we dropped down towards the trail sliding thirty terrifying yet exciting yards at a time. I couldn’t tell if I was yelling in fear or excitement as I scraped down the steep slope, trying to keep my balance. It was such a rush to be sliding down in and out of control as I plummeted towards the trail, trusting that my feet and legs would balance me well enough to stay as close to upright as possible. That fine line of not knowing whether I am going to be okay or not has become something I find myself craving now and again. After sliding a few hundred feet I began to sort of got the hang of it and was able to catch a video going down this thrilling embankment. It was actually one of the highlights of the hike and luckily nobody got too hurt doing it.

Dusting ourselves off, we all looked back up at what we had basically just fell down in control from and began laughing and high fiving one another. It was quite ridiculous, but definitely a good story to tell the rest of the gang back at the lodge. Continuing on our safe access trail now, we crossed over a few streams slicing through the trail and then as we came around the corner I couldn’t believe my eyes as they lay upon real life snow. Running up to the small patch of snow I grabbed a large handful of it and felt its frosty coolness for the first time in years. I had walked across glaciers on my Mount Everest trek a couple months prior, but not once was I able to immerse myself in snow like I did here.

It was fantastic. It instantly brought me back to all of the cabin trips I had done with so many of my buddies back in college and high school, going snowboarding, building snowmen and making snow angels up in Big Bear and Arrowhead. They were probably up there right now, I thought to myself as we continued up the trail. Those are the parts of traveling, where you wish you had a teleportation device that could just zap you back home so you could tell all your friends and family how much you miss them. But, you got to keep on keeping on, and that’s what I did as we entered into the chilly clouds that dramatically dropped the temperature forcing us all to put on jackets. As we crossed a small snowfield, we began thinking that this hike might have just taken it to the next level on difficulty. Dustin and I had only our tennis shoes with us and weren’t up for cold, soaking wet feet for the hike down, but Ray and Thomas persuaded us to continue a bit further as we began heading up an even steeper slope. Colder and colder it got with every step we took, and then all of the sudden we came to point where the trail was no more. As we looked up at the wet, slush covered rocks ahead of us, we decided that we had had enough adventure for one day and would leave the freezing rock climbing for another time.

We were all quite satisfied with our little adventure, and we were about four hours into it at that point anyways, so we turned around and began our descent. Looking back down at the beautiful valley that only a few hours ago was bright and sunny, was now dark and ominous as we tried to warm ourselves up by jogging a bit down the trail. The clouds were getting dark and the wind began to pick up. We were all in shorts and T-shirts with light jackets; if it began to rain, this would get bad quick. Hoping that we could reach the car before the rain, we upped our pace as we continued down. Seeing the valley now reminded me of yet another scene in the Lord of The Rings movies, however it was the battle scene where it was gloomy and raining where a lot of people died; hopefully not a forewarning ahead.

Making it down in half the time it took to get up, we were relieved to make it to the car despite how tired and a bit beat up we were.  As we began driving out of the enormous valley, we talked about how awesome the rock sliding was and how cold it got up on top. Then all of the sudden everything went black and yet again, little Bobby got all tuckered out and fell asleep on the car ride home.

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