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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Mount Somers

Getting into the swing of things around the lodge was pretty easy. It was actually a great deal I had going. Way better than I had first preconceived upon arriving in New Zealand. Not having to worry about paying for room and board is a huge relief, and the work I was doing was stuff I don’t really mind doing at all. I've become sort of the “lodge handyman” in a sense. I've painted a few rooms and patched a few holes in the walls and if something breaks, I fix it. Best of all, I don’t work past noon, and usually it’s around 11am when I get off, so I get about eleven hours of sunlight to do all sorts of outdoor activities. Methven alone has quite a bit to see, but drive no more than thirty minutes in any direction and you will find yourself in some of the most amazing places.

The weather here is quite fickle due to the fact that New Zealand is comprised of two main islands. They are large, no doubt, but even so, their size does affect the weather here. One day it could be completely sunny and hot, and by night you could have clouds rolling in and have rain all of the next day. I like it though. It’s keeps things new and exciting. Lately we have been having three or four days of really nice, hot weather, and then it seems to give us a break with a chilly day. Keep it interesting I think. One day in particular was overcast and cloudy, but Ray, Melissa and John (some friends and co-workers of mine) were determined to summit Mount Somers, which stands at nearly 6,000ft.

Driving out, we could barely see the base of the mountain through the thick cloud cover, but deterred we were not due to our excitement of our new adventure. Locking the car up and getting a good stretch in, we began our ascent, hiking along a roughly inclined trail through mud and slippery topography. At first everything was damp and wet with effervescent greens exploding with color against the rich browns of the soil and tree trunks that encompassed us in a living habitat, home to beautiful birds and small animals. It was nice to find out that there is virtually nothing harmful in NZ. There are no wolves or bears or poisonous plants, spiders or snakes. So we could go just about anywhere on or off the trail and not have to worry about being attacked, stung or bitten by anything.

Upward we went, until the scenery then instantly changed right before us as we came out from the forest into a grass plain. We were below the clouds, so we could just barely see the town of Methven below through the mist. Again, the terrain changed to high brush, which lasted only a kilometer or so until we hit the grasslands and rock. At this point the clouds had overtaken us. We were right in the middle of them, able to see only about twenty yards ahead of us. Melissa and John decided to head back. We had been hiking for over three hours already and were starting to get pretty tired. Ray was determined to make it to the top however, so I joined him as we continued through the clouds and as we crossed the plant line on the shale and loose rocks, we emerged through the clouds into beaming sunshine and beautiful blue skies. We were appalled at what was before us. We stopped and admired our 360 degree views of our surrounding mountain ranges with the sea of white, billowy clouds making the softest blanket over the farmlands and town that lay below. It was incredible; it was like we had reached the heavens and were looking down at all its glory. The clouds were so perfect that it looked as though you could step right onto them and walk across to the next mountain.

Stumbling over rocks, we tried to focus on reaching the summit as we had to force ourselves to keep our eyes off the beautiful view and on the wobbly rocks and movable terrain under our feet. The last hour or so was straight up as we joined the hawks that perched so elegantly on enormous boulders, looking out at the sea of white; seemingly admiring the same view we had. Tired and out of breath, we had made it to the top and boy was it worth it. Ray offering me a kiwi at the summit was the perfect treat as we sat there, looking out at several different mountain ranges and an endless field of white, reaching all the way to the distant ocean, which we could just barely see with a squint of the eye.

As we walked around the summit, we noticed a beacon directing North, South, East and West with arrows and text declaring the different names of mountains around us and how tall they were. In the center, below the compass was what looked to be some sort of mailbox. Opening it up we found a book in which various travelers had written in. Of course we had to do the same, scribbling our names, where we were from and a few comments on there. I decided to write down a phrase that an old friend of mine used to say all the time that has pertained to me quite a bit this past year. After doing so, we sealed the book back up and dropped it in the weather-guarded compartment and began heading back down the trail that took us a little over four hours to ascend. The kiwi’s we had eaten gave us a bit of energy and so we decided to see how fast we could get down the mountain. Probably not the best idea in the damp conditions as we entered back into the ocean of white, but none the less, we had a ton of fun doing it as we jumped from boulder to boulder, over large declining landscape and back into the dense, green forest where we had to slow down to due how slippery it had become.

Making it back to the car in one piece was a relief, and as I got in the car, I really began to feel how tiring that six and a half hour hike was because next thing I knew I was out like a light, dreaming about sheep and kiwis.  

The Arrival

After barely escaping India, landing in Christchurch and making it through customs with my year long New Zealand work visa was quite the relief.  For some reason I always feel like I’m going to be that guy that gets pulled aside and interrogated for hours like you see in the movies, however it’s never happened to me despite my regular attendance at airports (knock on wood).

Exiting the airport doors, it was a bit dreary with the weather looking quite different than the summers I was used to back home, but I didn’t mind at all due to the drizzling rain bringing yet even more freshness to the air. Stepping outside of the airport was magnificent. No burning trash, no cows in the road, no ambush of taxi drivers and vendors pulling at my arms trying to get me into their vehicles or into their shops. I kind of just stood there smiling at my new destination, breathing in its fresh air, admiring how civilized it was and most of all how green this new world was. It was incredibly green. Everywhere you looked every plant was thriving, trees were fuller than I had ever seen, and acres and acres of grass were thick and dark green in color. Everything was so alive. I know it is weird to say, but coming from India, it makes you appreciate life.

Snapping out of my euphoria, I awkwardly began hailing a cab. I had been so used to taxi drivers escorting me to their vehicles, I had sort of forgotten how to call one for myself. Luckily a shuttle driver took pity on me and said he would help me out with a lift to a nearby hostel that was on his route. On the way to the hostel I began to realize the devastation this city had incurred through the earthquake that devastated so many in 2010. The destruction was clearly still present in many ways. Hundreds of businesses shut down, homes abandoned, streets in shambles. It was like driving through a war zone.

Upon arriving at my hostel, I began talking with the owner who had documented all of the newspaper articles that had to do with the earthquake. She had three binders full! Preparing myself an enormous bowl of cereal, which I had been craving for months, I slurped and crunched through article after article about the earthquake and the damage it had incurred on so many people here. Everyone was affected in some way or another whether it had been through a lost home, lost business or through a lost loved one. Everyone had a story to tell about it. A year had passed and I could still see the fear and pain in their eyes when talking about it. Many think that the first earthquake was the one that did all of the damage, but there have been thousands of quakes throughout the year since the first that have been even more depredating, terrifying, exhausting to this already crippled city.

The next morning, I went to the bus station and headed out for my new home in the ski town of Methven. As I boarded the double-decker bus, I got a great seat on the second level right in front so I could see all of the beautiful scenery ahead of me. Driving not more than ten minutes, we were outside of town, through the “traffic” as the bus driver called it, and on our way to beautiful Methven. I’m sure you have heard the rumor of New Zealand having tons of sheep. Well, they’re definitely true. Field after field, sheep after sheep, the greenness and the white fluffy sheep never ceased. There are sooo many of them it is ridiculous. There are approximately 12 sheep for every Kiwi person here in New Zealand. Oh, that is another thing. People of New Zealand aren’t called New Zealanders, they are called Kiwi’s. Luckily I had retained some knowledge of this from Jr. High, or whenever I had learned it, because foreigners catch a bit of heat for making the mistake.

Arriving in a quaint little town called Ashburton, only 30 minutes away from Methven, the Lodge owner I had been in contact with (George) who was letting me have room and board in exchange for a few hours of work per day, picked me up and we headed towards the mountains. I tried my best to answer his questions about myself, but it was hard to keep my face off the window as the scenery only became only more and more beautiful. Even despite the cloudy weather, I was still captivated by my new surroundings. George said normally I would be able to see enormous mountain ranges and beautiful valleys and rivers on a clear day. I don’t know if I could take it all. Maybe it was a good thing it was cloudy so I didn’t have a sensory overload.

 On the way back George told many stories about the earthquakes, like many Kiwi’s I have encountered, and said that he wouldn’t be surprised if I felt one soon enough. I told him how I had grown up in Southern California and lived near the San Andreas Fault Line, which shook me up plenty of times as a kid, however I had never come close to feeling the anguish so many people here have felt throughout the quakes. The earthquakes I can remember were always small and hardly ever made the news.

Reading a sign welcoming me to Methven, we continued on the same road we were on, went right through the middle of town and had left Methven all within about a minute of driving about 65kph, (40mph).  Making a U-turn, George said jokingly, “And that’s Methven” as we returned to town and he began showing me the different parts it. No doubt it is small. Really small. There are three pubs, two small grocery stores, one post office, two banks, one movie theater slash church on Sundays and about twenty ski shops and another twenty hotels, motels, hostels, and lodges. You can run around the entire town in twenty minutes, and that’s if you are a weak, recovering traveler from India. Finally making our way to the Snow Denn Lodge, where I would be living for the next month or so, George showed me around and introduced me to the people I would be working with.  They all seemed like nice people, but little did I know how awesome they all were about to be and how great of friends I had right before me.

After my small tour, meeting and greeting new people, George said it was getting late and that he was going to retire for the night. I didn’t realize how late it was because it was still light out despite it being after 10pm! I had forgotten about how far south New Zealand was and how the days are very, very long during the summers here due to the earth’s rotation on its tilted axis.  After getting settled, I went for a walk around town, and watched the 10:30pm sunset barely poke through the clouds. As I returned to the lodge I stood in front of it and looked out at this tiny town and thought to myself how this was going to be my first small town experience. I have of course visited them, but I have never been a part of them. I’ve done small islands before, and those were fine, but this is a totally different situation. And we’re talking small town, like the check out lady at the grocery store knows your name and address, and old ladies spank your butt because they changed your diaper at one point when you were a baby.  Walking back inside, I thought to myself “I can do small town, can’t I?”