TWIN PEAKS

Friday, December 11th at 19:01

Anyone who knows us knows that Idalis and I are very much tropical people. We love it hot, lush and close to the beach. We have arrived at locales recently that are the exact opposite. Cold, wet and high above sea level. We are working with it and even embracing it. Mountains are magical things and in the course of just a few days we have managed to visit the settlement at the highest elevation and the highest peak in all of New Zealand. Although it is technically summer here, you would never know it. Heavy winds and chance of snow and showers are often in the forecast. It is really easy to overlook these conditions, which would otherwise be considered undesirable, on account of the stunning scenery and pristine natural state of the majority of what we have thus far seen in the south island. Skiing reigns supreme in these areas during winter, but summer opens up some of the finest tramping (a.k.a. hiking, trekking, walking) and we have worked hard to oblige each little town that is kind enough to mark their trails and boast the most beautiful scenery. My shoes are literally falling apart from my feet piece by Chinese manufactured piece.

It all started with a quick trip back into Christchurch to stock up on just about everything. We have learned that traveling in New Zealand one best be prepared. So after stacking little Fern (our trusty transporting companion) to the rafters, we headed for the cold country. It was a beautiful drive along winding back roads, along farms and eventually up twisting and incredibly steep mountain roads. It wasn't until after attempting this feat that we would actually learn that this road, the Alpine Highway, has been the death of many a native vehicle. Well, we were almost a casualty. We had to stop somewhere around half way to let the bubbling and hissing demons running a muck in Ferns guts take a rest. We had the good fortune of the summer season upon us which allows somewhere around 18 hours of light and we made it safely and soundly to a rest stop not far from our planned destination, Arthur's Pass Village. It would be our first dabble in what the Kiwi's call “freedom camping”, which is pretty self explanatory. Find a space that's not fenced in (there are a lot of fences in New Zealand) and doesn't have a “no camping” sign and make yourself at home. We ate well, started a small camp fire, until gale force winds threatened making us arsons, and settled down for our first free night of sleep.

The next morning after a quick breakfast we were off, at least until we reached Castle Hill. Sometimes rolling up on something that you did not read about in a brochure or guide book can be a great, and refreshing, surprise. As it turns out, this location has been used in several films and is nothing less than pure magic. Imagine giant boulders climbing out of the ground in formations that resemble a lost civilization. We climbed in, on over and around as many as we could until we were completely exhausted, at which point we found a high perched boulder with a depression in it we called the love seat and settled in for a rest gazing across a landscape that is indeed straight out of a movie, Narnia and Lord of the Rings, to be exact.





We would eventually, after cool downs and excursions, make it to Arthur's Pass. It would be rainy, gray and numbingly cold upon arrival. Being masters at making the best of any situation, we visited the information center, planned our trek for the following day (maintaining positive intention for good weather) and stopped in the local camp kitchen to cook our meat for the next couple night's meals and fill the water jug. We would be rewarded for our hopefulness. That evening the weather cleared and we hiked to the Devil's Punchbowl waterfall. The next morning would also be brilliant and we would hike Scott's Track a total of five hours and reach a height somewhere around 1700 meters, just below Avalanche Peak, and would have spectacular views of the many peaks of the Southern Alps.




That night, again exhausted, we would try our hand at freedom camping once again (which we are getting quite good at) and would spend the night on an embankment overlooking the Waikariri River Basin surrounding by mountains. The next day, we opted for a lighter and gentler walk lasting three hours and taking us up to Bealey Spur and again magnificent views of the Southern Alps and Waikiriri River. Our arrival at the peak was not greeted with the normal light lunch snack and hot tea (in our best ever thermos that we got for only $1). Rather it was greeted with 50 MPH winds that could almost knock you over. So, we settled for a cereal bar in the van. Feeling satisfied that we exhausted ourselves and the area, we headed out of town. First stop, my date with Cave Stream. We had seen it on the way in, but were not prepared to tackle it. This time, I was ready, Idalis was not. I changed into my board shorts (which I haven't seen in weeks), my rash guard and tennis shoes and headed into the cave. The signs would make you worry a bit and possibly reconsider, but if you just trust your ability you are greatly rewarded with a 400 meter underground trek through a cave with a running stream, waterfalls and rock falls. All in pitch black, except of course from the small beam of light from my headlamp (thanks Mom!). In one word, awesome, in a few words, perhaps the coolest thing I have ever done!

New Zealand is full of surprises and after driving a few hours we found another one called the Rakaia Gorge. It was getting late, we felt we should start to think about nesting for the night. Not finding any immediate free camping, we pulled into Rakaia River Gorge Campground. We were greeted by the smiling and spunky Alan who kept hinting to a “room with a view”. He opened the gate, let us in and we drove right to the edge of a cliff, overlooking the entire turquoise colored Rakaia River. We were sold and at only $15 for the both of us, we felt it a deal at twice the price. Best part, hot showers. Probably the only down fall of freedom camping, you start to stink from a lack of amenities. What was to be just one night of rest to get us back on the road turned into two days of reading, resting and relaxing, with the best host and the most amazing view. Waking again to rain, we made a quick brekky, packed up, said good bye to Alan and pulled off happy that I had time to silicone seal the previously leaking sun roof..

First stop over was Methven for a top off of supples, then the quirky little town of Geraldine, home of perhaps the most talented mathematician (who actually failed in school) and free WiFi at the local library (woohoo!). We saw the world's largest jersey, which is actually a sweater, the Medieval Mosaic, a copy of an ancient tapestry made from small pieces of steel hand painted with one tiny brush, and 100 brain teasing puzzles. All the brain child of one man, the owner Michael, who sees the world in terms of numbers and truly had us stumped with every sentence. Another surprising diversion along our long winding road.



Continue on to our desired destination, Lake Tekapo (pronounced pretty much take-a-poo, which is how we were able to remember it). Had just enough time to visit the Church of the Good Shepard which is flanked by the snow dusted southern alps, the brilliant turquoise lake, colored by rock flour or rocks ground down to flour by the glacier, and the multi-colored, ever present lupin flowers, or weeds as we come to learn. Continue the freedom camping theme by setting up in a rest stop just out of town and cook a stir fry dinner in the rain. Wake up and drive to the lake shore to enjoy a breakfast of muffins and coffee, but not before stopping in the Church of the Good Shepard to give thanks.








It was then off for an exploratory drive in the country to find the evening's accommodations and some possible places of interest. Decide on a three hour tramp up to the Mount John Observatory for stunning views of the entire lake, mountains and the town. Decide that freedom camping has afforded us enough loose change to splurge on the entrance to the hot springs where we sit and boil until our skin nearly melts off.



Then we move to the warm lobby to charge some other batteries and take time to write the 100th post! That night, drive to the camping spot we found earlier and get a warm welcome from our nudist neighbor Graham. Wake up the next morning to surprisingly good weather and take advantage with a breakfast of spinach and feta omelets while surrounded by mountains. Pull off right as the wind begins to howl. That same wind would attempt, several times, to blow Fern (our beloved van) off the road with us in it. The side road we thought we could take to the salmon farm was closed leaving us right out in the open highway. A tense hour and a half later we make it to the Mount Cook lookout and information site. Enjoy all the info and the relatively clear views of the highest peaks in the Southern Alps from the shore of Lake Pukaki.



Take a few photos and it is back on the road and off towards Mount Cook village and the famous, and most photogenic, Mount Cook, highest peak in Australasia. The 55KM ride takes a bit longer than expected as we are the benefactors of a front row seat to a good 'ole sheep wrangling, right down the middle of the highway.



In addition to being our first brush with New Zealand traffic, it is also an entertaining affair far better than any television programming. We laugh till our sides ache and snap tons of photos. Hundreds of sheep running, jumping, pooing and bahhing all the while being directed by a man and four dogs. Too much fun! We stop at a few lookouts along the way to just be floored by the visually stunning surroundings before driving through a curtain of cold, gray rain and pulling into the camp site. Trying to make the most of it, we head off into the Tasman Valley for lunch and a look at the Tasman Glacier. Our attempt pays off. As soon as the last bite of pepperoni and cheese cracker is finished, the sky opens up and the sun shines through. We begin our tramp which includes a lookout towards the Blue Lakes, which are now green, the Tasman Glacier, and eventually, an unobstructed view of the most menacing and most magnificent Mount Cook summit. Right before our eyes is a real living glacier. The landscape is other worldly. The views, amazing. It doesn't even look real, we keep saying. Enough fascination to forget about the cold and the howling wind. Far too curious, we walk down to Tasman Lake to stick a toe in. It is super cold. Just below freezing. Just enough to slowly (or not so slowly) melt away this massive chunk of ice, some of which floats as oddly and organically shaped ice bergs that vary between dirty and mangy and cool electric blue. If this is the start of our experience here, what else are we to expect. A whole day of cold rain is the answer.
























It's so cold it hurts to get out of bed. Breakfast is cold pretty much as it exits the pot. Accepting defeat, we mosey on over to the information site for Mount Cook, which is a veritable museum of natural history, history of mountaineering and history of the village. It holds our attention for almost an entire rainy day afternoon. The information sites, or i sites as they are called here in New Zealand, are by far the best anywhere. Packed full of information, friendly and knowledgeable staff and free! Another hour is spent near the fire place of the Old Mountaineer's Cafe before reluctantly returning to camp for what is bound to be a cold night of sleep. We can't believe our eyes when the next day against all forecasts, the sky once again opens up for us and gives us the chance to hike the Hooker Valley trail to see the Hooker Glacier. It is when we reach the Hooker Hut (I know, sounds funny) that it starts to rain. However, it is also the same time that we run into Joy and Di, two Australian ex-pats living in New Zealand, who convince us to push on. And boy are we glad we do. Just as entertaining as another glacier, another lake with floating ice bergs and another chance to view the majestic Mount Cook summit is the spunky, witty and endless amounts of fun and energy of these sisters. We walk, talk and laugh all the way and then back down the trail and make plans to meet up again at their place in Nelson, at the north end of the South Island. There may not be icebergs or glaciers, but we are certain that there is a good time in store. Can't wait to see you two!



And so, at the end of our hike we decide to head out and move on. Where? Not sure. We are interested to do a bike ride along an old train track, dubbed the Rail Trail. Where we will start, where it ends and how long it takes are all currently unknowns. But, by the time you are reading this, we will be busy trying to fill our time with fodder for the next post.