Richmond Range

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November 30, 2007

I got up early to call the Inter-Island Ferry Company and found out that we could cross the Strait today if we wanted to take the 1:00 p.m. boat. So we hurried to get the things we needed done in Wellington in order to make that happen.
First was updating the blog. Eric takes longer to do this, so he got started at an internet cafe as I went in search of the immigration office to get our forms for visa extension. It turned out we can’t fill out the paperwork and mail it as we had planned to do, but instead have to meet with someone. So we put it off once again until we get to Queenstown in about a month.
After the blog was updated we hurried across downtown to get to the ferry terminal and arrived just at the final boarding time. We boarded the massive ship and soon were out on the open water.
It is a three-and-a-half hour journey from the Wellington harbor to the Picton harbor and the scenery is quite pleasant along the way, steep sounds on both ends with the choppy waters of the Cook Strait in between.
Upon our arrival in Picton we secured a couple of beds at a hostel and went out for a local meal of Fish n’ Chips. It was really good food for under nine U.S. dollars for both of us.
Then in the evening I sat around in the hostel with some guys from the Netherlands and watched a movie. It’s nice to enjoy some creature comforts before heading back into the wilderness.

December 1, 2007

After a bike ride to the grocery store, during which I watched Eric almost face-plant into the curb on several occasions, we gathered our things and set off to hitchhike. A young Israeli guy stopped within minutes and drove us almost an hour down the windy coastal road from Picton to Havelock. New Zealand is an interesting place to drive in that they post speed limits that you’d be hard-pressed to ever get up to in many places because of the winding roads. Anyway, the Israeli dropped us off at the intersection where we needed to turn and I made a call to wish my little sister Jaylyn a happy sixteenth birthday from a payphone before heading out.
The map showed us going down this road for quite a way before getting to the trail so we hoped we could get a ride down it. It was hot and roads are even more miserable to walk on when the sun is beating down on you. We only managed one ride that lasted a measly one kilometer and we ended up walking basically the first eight miles on our own, but a couple from the Czech Republic did give us a lift for the last two kilometers as they were also hiking to the same hut as us tonight.
From the trailhead we walked-- and we walked like men possessed. It was late afternoon and we wanted to get the hiking done well before the sun sank down, as we weren’t interested in any repeats of the night from the week before. As it turned out we did the four hour hike to Captain Creek Hut in only two hours and five minutes, making us feel pretty good about it.
Along the way we followed the Pelorus River, which has about the clearest water imaginable: deep, aquamarine blue without a hint of silt in it. It’s the kind of river a bottled water company would use in its ads.

December 2, 2007

With a new route recommended by the guy from the hut last night we embarked on yet another trail not on our maps. After an hour and a half of following the river upstream we came to a small hut called Middy Hut. No one was inside, but their gear was. Half an hour further down the trail we ran into the owner of that gear, a possum trapper who was spending three to four weeks in the area trapping possum for their fur.
Possums were introduced to the country about one hundred years ago for the fur trade, but with no predators to keep them in check have decimated the native Kiwi and Tui bird populations. As a result, there are many people who are paid by the government to kill them. Their fur is also being used in fabrics so trappers and hunters have started to pluck the fur as well. It’s a horribly brutal death for the possum caught in a trap, as the only tools the trapper was carrying to do his job were a hammer and a bag to stuff the fur into. I’ll leave out the details of the process since they are pretty ugly.
From there it was a steady climb through forest for about 2,000 vertical feet. I’m not sure if it was the humidity or what, but I sweat like I’ve never sweat before during the climb, to the point that it poured down my face faster than I could wipe it and began to sting my eyes. But we made it and were able to spend a nice afternoon at the Rocks Hut, reading and collecting firewood.
Several people showed up late in the afternoon so we ended up having to share the hut, but the larger group has allowed me to notice something about Eric through our interaction. Despite the fact that he claims to dislike society and most people in general, he becomes somewhat of a social person whenever we meet people in the woods. He sheds his introverted, quiet typical self in exchange for a talkative and outgoing one instead. It's interesting to observe.

December 3, 2007

I’ll give a brief synopsis of today’s events so I can spend time on the more impactful moments of the day. We had good downhill walking. Given two unmarked routes at a junction we chose the wrong one; we ended up in the right general area though, so it’s ok. We got a ride the final five miles to Nelson from a guy with blue hair. I went swimming in the very cold pool at the motor park we’re staying at. Then I had a shower long enough to make up for four days without one.
Now to the good stuff: If you read nothing else from my blog then read this next part, as it gives a glimpse into why I’m on this journey.
This morning around 10:00 a.m. we were hiking over a saddle between two mountains. The low clouds had shrouded the mountain since I’d woken up this morning and they were still limiting visibility to about fifty feet. Eric needed a break, so we took one and I used the opportunity to go sit alone on a rock ledge.
I was just sitting there, feeling the cool mist move around me and listening to two birds with beautiful songs calling back and forth with each another quite a distance away. The sound of the bird’s echo made me feel that I was in a large canyon, but the clouds still refused to reveal the shape of the area.
A minute later and without any warning the clouds parted in front of me and exposed the true scope of what I was sitting in front of. The valley before me cut deep though the mountains at least 2,000 feet to the river below. The surrounding peaks stood higher than me by just as much, and together they contrasted one another as only the extreme heights and depths can.
I continued to look out from my perch for what seemed like hours, but in reality was merely minutes. The feeling of being so small against such a huge backdrop makes you realize how truly expansive and awesome our world is. And though I’ve walked over 400 miles through this country already, it’s only a fraction of the places that are available to be explored.
It’s moments such as this that make it all worthwhile, even with all the strains and pains, the sweating, the cold, the heat, the blisters, and the backaches. They all lead to the moments like this when you feel completely alive.
Up there on the ledge, the senses all seemed to be heightened. The smell of the forest was richer, the sounds of the birds were sweeter, and the feeling of the wind was colder. It all came together with the view to form a moment that will not soon be forgotten. This is the type of experience that makes the journey worthwhile.

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