Sometimes You've Got To Stop and Smell The Cows

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Or, You Try Arguing Who Has To Yield With A Holstein

Toward the end of the day today, when we were exhausted from tramping (the local word for hiking for those of you who know what else we're capable of), we were out on this country road that wasn't even mapped. We managed to find this gorge with a swing bridge that went across a pool of water the color of a bar of Zest soap. Yet again remarkable.

But yes, we know it's beautiful. The country road. We're trying to make our way back to civilization after tracking down the gorge with vague directions from a local. And we're wondering why there's an amber light flashing up ahead.

Ah. That's the light that lets you know the cows are crossing the road. Apparently the ladies know when they're to be milked, and no Mazda 6 on earth is going to stop them from getting to the barn to be relieved. So we sat while each cow stopped in front of the car and gave us a disapproving look as they passed. You could just see it in their faces: "Ugh. Americans."

We traded in the car for a while in place of a helicopter and flew up across the summit of Mt. Cook as well as across the broad expanse of the Franz Josef and Fox glaciers. We also landed in a snow bed above the glaciers. Again quite amazing. Also quite a terror as the pilot, no doubt in an attempt to overcome his job frustration, had a fondness for flying right into the faces of mountains, glaciers, and snow-covered peaks before zipping up over them at the last possible second.

Each of us were too Protestant to voice displeasure, but I'm certain he could tell when our butts were clenching the seats with increasing pressure.

He then sold us a souvenir photo for $20 while we were on the snow basin. Not so certain that we'd be allowed back in the helicopter if we declined, it was the best $20 Polaroid we've ever purchased. (And this from a group who knows about tramping in all its forms.)

Oh ... just in case you think I've been body-snatched by the New Zealand travel board, here's our list of complaints about this country:


* The beds are too soft.
* Hotel rooms only come with one tiny trash can.
* They make chicken-flavored potato chips.
* The cookies are so hard, it'll make your orthodonist wince.
* There's no such thing as pedestrians having the right of way. If you think crossing the street in San Francisco is rough, it's a blood sport in New Zealand.


See? Not so perfect afterall is it? Well, okay. Maybe it is.

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Photos

The Ladies Who Lunch
Here's to the girls who chew grass. Aren't they too much?

Pardon Me, Sir ...
... is it supposed to be that close to the flying apparatus? The summit of Mount Cook.

More Mt. Cook
The only way to reach the summit ... while sitting on your butt.

The Franz Josef Glacier
Looking down on the Franz Josef glacier.

Hidden Territory
The secret gorge that wasn't mapped. Truly an adventure tracking this down, but look at the water.

Swing Bridge
My mothep, the swinger.

Comments

[Miss Virginia]

Please keep these updates coming. I just love love love reading them. And the photos are wonderful!! Happy Thanksgiving gang! Thanks for including me in yours!

[Keith]

Mmmm...
...Chicken-flavored potato chips??!?! That actually sounds really good to me right now. Of course, I haven't had lunch, yet. Drool... Are you tramping while you're tramping?