Snow Bunnies in Flight!!

From the big dizzy mountains that screen it, to the deep deathlike valley's below......it's the beauty that fills me with wonder, it's the stillness that fills me with peace. That little ditty is courtesy of Robert Service, one of my father's favorite poets. His literature is primarily based on his experiences in the Yukon but I think his descriptions depict the austere splendour of New Zealand flawlessly.

Although I’m back in Australia at present, I can’t help but fill you all in on my last days in New Zealand. As appealing as it may be, I can’t leave big gaps in my travel diary or I’ll leave even myself wondering what I did for that month in absence. Therefore, while the sun is brilliantly illuminating the Brisbane river on this lazy Saturday afternoon, I’m going to backtrack to the last weeks spent amidst the snow and flurry of New Zealand’s countryside.

Snow bunny is a term I use lightly for we were not wrapped up stylishly like French skiers in cute snow pants and colorful scarves. Nope - this was down and dirty cold weather. Although the days warmed up to a semi-chilly 10 degrees C, the nights were a bit harsher. It was the type of weather that made one want to snuggle in front of a roaring fire with endless cups of hot chocolate to sooth the day away. We didn't do that of course. Luckily, we had plenty of snowy activities to keep our minds occupied and our blood pumping quickly so as not to notice the icy winds whipping around us.

Goodbye to Tui Glen

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After my three weeks at Tui Glen farm, I was only too happy to leave the cattle and maddening calves in their manure paddocks for some fun in the snow with Gwenda and our friends from Tonga. Twenty plus days of trying to teach non-English speaking Korean children how to post properly at a trot was an interesting experience, not to mention the hours spent chasing stray horses away from their mountaintop retreats. The horseback riding was fun though and I enjoyed spending time with my new South African friends. After hugging my favorite horses goodbye, Juanita and Carla dropped me off on the side of town where I tried my best to look like a friendly, non-threatening traveler. It didn't go according to plan and I stood eagerly for over an hour with a smile frozen of my face before a lovely kiwi bloke finally picked me up. After some sightseeing adventures, he drove to on Rotorua where I was to meet my caravan of backpacking chicks in the Funky Green Voyager guesthouse. Kirsty and Kate, two chatty med students from the UK, met up with Gwenda and me the following morning, thus beginning our road trip along the A1 highway.

Ohakune - The Carrot Capital of New Zealand

Yes, you read correctly. Check out our picture next to the two story plastic vegetable. They all seem to be quite fond of the carrot here. You can even buy a 10 kilo bag of carrots along the street if your heart so desires. How anyone can ever eat that many carrots is beyond me but they are there for the taking. As true travelers do, we took the opportunity for an exciting Kodak moment and munched on an actual carrot while standing in front of the town emblem - a proper tribute to Bugs Bunny.

Ohakune was actually a spur of the moment stop in our itinerary. We were invited to stay with another Tonga survivor, Bijan, who was living/working in the sleepy ski town. He welcomed us for a few nights at the Mt. View Inn where we hung out with a handful of colorful snowboarders and skiers - a happy-g-lucky group of snow enthusiasts. Luckily, our weather was perfect during our stay in Ohakune and we had many adventures in the surrounding countryside.

Ski Sessions - Ready...Set...Go!

I have no previous skiing experience. Except for one small misfortune when I ended up stuck in a briar patch my skiing history is limited to "bootskating" down the hills behind my Illinois farmhouse. Therefore, what better time to sharpen my skiing skills than to take some lessons on top of beautiful Mt. Ruepehu! Gwenda, Kirsty, and I woke up to sunny skies and hurried to beat the morning rush at the ski lodge. We were dressed and fitted for skis by 10:00 a.m. and proceeded to hobble around on our uncomfortable boots until our group lesson began. Kirsty was quite experienced so she wished us well and whisked herself to the top of the mountain for the black runs. Lucky girl -I thought I would be right behind her after my day on the bunny slopes but things didn’t progress quite that quickly!

My fears of being stuck with a group of talented 6 year old beginners were eliminated when I found out that there was an Adult Beginners class as well. It was full of mid-twenties, clumsy, one time skiers such as myself. After picking up the basic techniques, Gwneda and I left the rest of the pack behind and spent the rest of the lesson racing one another down the tiny slopes. Tiny is an understatement. Come to think of it, I'm not quite sure there was even a slope there worthy of mentioning. However, except for one incident when I foolishly got knocked down by the chair lift (I hesitate to admit that) I'm proud to say that I didn’t have any klutzy episodes. As true skiers do, we properly froze both our toes and fingers to the point of numbness. By then it was time for some hot chocolate and lazy sight seeing out the windows of the lodge cafe. Two more hours on the slopes were enough for us and we headed back to meet the rest of the tired, but wearily happy, snow bunnies at the Mt. View Inn.

After two more days of lazing about in the peaceful mountainside town, we decided to head to Taupo for some more snowy adventures. Transportation to our destination wasn’t a problem. Two minutes of standing on the side of the road with our artfully drawn sign and we were quickly picked up by a road working crew on their way north. The neon orange clad Kiwis fed us jelly donuts and dropped us off at the front door of our hostel with farewell wishes. I'm growing to like the New Zealanders more and more all the time.

Tongariro Crossing - Thoughts from atop the mountain

Shuffle, shufflle. slip, slide, shuffle, slip….ouch…. A small area of flatness appears beyond the next rise and I breath a sigh of relief. We've been climbing straight up for an hour and my legs muscles are not particularly pleased with my decision to give up my daily jog. Neither are my feet. Some blisters are lurking underneath the five inches of steel strapped to the bottoms of my hiking boots and supposedly "comfortable" layers of thermal socks. Just a note to all of you who consider themselves to be in good shape. Try climbing straight up a steep, snow covered mountain wearing steal crampons and a heavy pack on your back. It will most certainly wack down any ideas you had about even slightly possessing athletic ability. Although not nearly as high as Asia's Mt. Kinabalu, the fact that we are tromping around in knee deep snow makes the journey a bit harder. An entire day of fitness fun in near 0 degree weather is just what is seems to be - absolutely wonderful. I can’t stop smiling as the magnificent snowy scenery stretches out before me, on and on into the blue horizon beyond. I let my thoughts wander and decide that I might possibly take up a new hobby of mountain climbing, just like Tenzing Norgay and Hillary. Watch out Everest……

Whoops - I haven’t been paying attention to where I’m stepping and I very nearly walked right off the mountain. I stumble to stick my steel spikes into the near frozen snowy crust, get a proper gripping, and continue up the steep path along the Red Crater. It has to be near freezing up here in the furious wind. Hypothermia will set in soon. They'll find me frozen stiff here on top of the Red Crater with only an icy banana and some priceless pictures on my Canon. Another K-2 adventure, except I was only on the Tongariro Crossing, a mere 2,000 meters up the mountain, not quite comparable to proper mountain climbing. I seem to be the only one preoccupied with the concept of freezing to death. Perhaps my mind is working overtime. Either that or I am suffering from altitude sickness. I decide to stick to the path and keep my thoughts about becoming a world class mountain climber in check. Horseback riding is much safer and warmer anyway….

My hiking group, numbered seventeeen, are bundled, wrapped and zippped up in fleece and down jackets. Eight hours of tramping, up and up the leg burning, chest heaving Devil's staricase, across the Red Crater's treacherous, slippery rim, down to the Emerald Lakes, on and on and on. I was actually enjoying myself quite a bit. Gwenda and I trailed behind the group for the majority of the day, chatting with Wendy, our cheery guide, and taking pictures to tell the tale of our trek. The crampons came off once we were finished with the uphill climbing- what a relief! Then came the fun part - What goes up must come down. In the case of a steep,snow covered mountain, it is much easier to slide down the icy hills than it is to stumble downhill in the snow!! Hence the bum sledding adventure. See pictures aside. Yes, it was as fun as it looks although my backside was soaked and freezing afterwards.

I have to admit that by the end of the afternoon, my feet were ready for a break and an intense foot massage. My hiking boots came off as soon as we reached the end of the path as did my backpack, fleece coat and woolie pants. We had some chilled beer waiting for us and hot chips to snack on during the bus ride home. Gwenda and I spent the rest of the evening sitting in the sauna at Rainbow Lodge - a perfect ending to the day.

Auckland - Again!

Back again. Only for one night this time, thank goodness. I sadly bid farewell to Gwenda. She had been a wonderful travel companion during the many instances that we met up with one another. Thailand, Tasmania, Tonga, New Zealand .....Now she was heading off to Asia before going home for a few months. Hopefully, we will be seeing one another in South America in the near future. She stood on the side of the road with me as I held up my Auckland Please sign and, like a true, concerned friend, analyzed the trustworthiness of the offered rides. Admittingly, I was a bit nervous about hitching by myself, especially since the recent occurances and disapearnances on the south island. However, the young guy that pulled up seemed trustworthy. He even had a teddy bear sitting on the front seat of his pickup, claiming he was on his way to a birthday party. I tend to be to rather trusting of anyone and hopped right in, oblivious to the fact that he could be a serial killer keen to the fact that girls are drawn to men carrying teddy bears. I was just excited about the free ride! Gwenda, on the other hand, properly wrote down his license plate number and made sure I checked with her along the way via cell phone. "Larry" wound up to be a very pleasent young man and took me as far a Hamilton. Here, I once again had to lug all my bags out and wait on the side of the road. Fears of not reaching Auckland by dark were starting to kick in. I didn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere with 30 kilos of precious luggage by my side. No worries though - I was picked up two minutes later by a brother/sister pair travelling to Auckland in a tiny, rusty ute. It was a tight squeeze in the miniature cab but we had a lovely conversation along the way as we chugged along. I treated them to peppermint ice cream cones as a thank you treat before they dropped me off at my backpackers lodge.

Although I arrived safe and sound, both drivers were quite concerned that I was hitchhiking alone and proceeded to tell me about the recent deaths of two female hitchhikers. I think they were just cautioning me to be careful in the future and be more than weary about the people I traveled with if I continued to hitchhike. After these experiences, I decided that it is much safer to hitchhike with at least one other person. Alone just isn't the way to go.

One night in a hostel in Auckland, a bit of shopping and I was soon back in the airport for a quick night of sleeping before my early a.m. flight to Australia. This was the third time I had spent the night in the airport during all my travels in New Zealand. I had somehow managed to book only early morning flights, causing me to bunk in the comfy departure lounge time after time. By now, even the midnight clearners knew my name and sat with me for a few hours of chatting over stale McDonald's coffee. Glen, a kind elderly gentleman, even gave me a new book for the flight to Brisbane before he and his friends lined up at the window to wave goodbye as I boarded the plane. I promised to visit if I was ever in Auckland again. It will lie in my travels sometime in the future. New Zealand is on the way back to the United States after all and I haven't even officially done the south island.

Well, it's back to good ol' Australia, my home away from home. I've been staying at Bunk Backpackers for a little over a month, working at odd jobs here and there to pass the time and save some money. Stay tuned for futher blogs describing the fun times laundering and cleaning hostel rooms (I promise I'll post in the next few days!!).

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