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. 

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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?”