No blog updates for the past three weeks… There are two reasonable hypotheses:
1) I was being lame and didn’t feel like writing about it or
2) I was off doing something exciting and didn’t have time to write about it.
As many of you know, hypothesis one can be quickly rejected thereby leaving two as the only plausible solution. No how to write about it…
In Wanaka we meet up with the rest of the team from the University of Auckland. For the next four days we planned to ski the Southern Alps, competing in the Uni Snow Games. Unfortunately, things don’t always go according to plan. Day one was a washout; the wind was so strong the entire ski resort was closed down. This did however allow me to get my Salomon skis which I purchased off trademe (the kiwi version of eBay) for an unbelievable $70 NZD remounted to fit my boots and waxed for the conditions. Even these adjustments could not save me in the skier-cross competition held on Monday however. Never having competitively downhill skied before, let alone head to head with three other guys over jumps and banked turns, the competition proved interesting to say the least. Placing 3rd in both heats, I still had a blast and thankfully skied off injury free and all the wiser about how crucial inside turns are.
Tuesday Soren, I, and a few other guys from the team headed out to Treble Cone, a mountain just west of Wanaka in the Aspiring Range (check my google map). It is the largest ski resort I have ever been to operating on just two lifts. With these two magic chairs (super high speed and quite large capacity) an incredible amount of country is open to the keen skier capable of tackling black diamond runs. The snow was nice and fluffy the day we went and skiing was a real joy minus the low visibility and high winds. Snacking on lunch at the base café I saw my first kea as well. Kea are mountain parrots, with beautiful coloration (particularly under their wings) and extremely inquisitive. They have been known to tear the rubber gaskets off cars and decimate leather hiking boots. Fortunately that day I was able to enjoy their simple magnificence without worrying about their destructive habits.
Tuesday night I met up with my friend Sam who had been a Rotary exchange student in Switzerland with me. Sam lives in Wanaka and is working on her private pilot’s license, which would be awesome if she gets as she has agreed to take me on a flight around Central Otago sometime. We played some billiards and discussed ideas of where to travel on the South Island after the games finished. I still had one event left though before everything was said and done—cross country skiing.
Wednesday morning I awoke to fresh snow and hitched a ride up to Snow Farm, the only cross-country ski resort in New Zealand in the first in the world I have ever skied at located on top of a mountain. As my skis had not arrived yet from New York, I rented a pair and hit the trails for some good training. One thing you tend to take for granted skiing in the forest like we do in Alaska is the wind and on top of mountains it causes snow drifts. While the skiing was great fun, it was also a challenge at times requiring ample plowing through the soft drifts of powder. I skied about 20 km of warm up before the rest of the competition arrived and took a water break while watching the kiwis ski. Well, the juxtaposition between the Canadian national team, who I had seen train in the morning, and the group of uni students, many of whom had never XC skied before was quite startling. I tried to help a few out with the skate-skiing technique before the race started. As it stood, my biggest competition was “Caesar” from Venezuela who was in New Zealand to train in the offseason. With the help of a few race tricks (like using Caesar as a wind-block on the long uphill) and a great burst of speed in the last ½ k, I won the race by a decent margin as seen in the picture below. This was the only gold medal the University of Auckland claimed in the games and an accomplishment I felt quite proud of.
Even though the games had concluded on Wednesday, Soren and I decided to stick around Wanaka another day to ski at Cardrona and met up three other friends that evening. Two of them, Kari and Ben, followed us up over Haast Pass. The moment we broke the crest of the Alps, we knew we had reached the almost mythical West Coast. The entire ecosystem changed in what seemed like a flash. No longer in the dry grasslands of Central Otago, we emerged in a dense rainforest where even in the middle of winter, everything was bursting in vibrant shades of green. At the Copland Track trailhead, we made a quick lunch stop (how I love apples and peanut butter) before heading 17 km into the rainforest roughly to the base of Mount Cook. The tramp took us over numerous one-man bridges, by some amazing whitewater I would love to take my packraft down, and through head high water cut ravines. We tramped into the night, but our efforts were well rewarded—with a bath in the hot pools by full moonlight. It was magnificent as we basked in the hot water staring up at the snow capped mountains. I swear I even saw a shooting star…
Saturday we left out, blazed the 17 k’s in no time, and found a nice spot on the beach to camp out. After a satisfying dinner of pasta (the true staple of camping, coupled with oatmeal for breakfast), we took a stroll on the beach. As the stars glowed in the night sky, we saw flames erupt far off down the beach, so we went to investigate. As it turned out, two young farm hands were having a bonfire—with the help of gasoline—to celebrate the end of the rain. Apparently it had rained near continuously for the past few weeks (the West Coast gets 2-3 m of rain annually, hence the rainforest biome). We dragged a few logs over and warmed up by their fire before retiring for the night.
Clear blue skies greeted us on Sunday as we set off up to the base of Fox Glacier, intending to find our way onto the snow and ice. Our initial reconnaissance proved poor leading to unnecessary river crossings (anyone that has ever stepped foot in a glacial river, knows what that implicates). Finally, we discovered a route up the north side and around past the terminus of the glacier, which is also the most unstable part. After climbing onto the glacier, we attached our crampons, grabbed our ice axes (all of which I had been able to borrow from the tramping club) and headed out. Though I have been on glaciers in three or four countries in my life, I have never been hiked where guides chopped stairs into the ice to make the walking easier. We quickly expended the extent of this tourist track and headed on to more rugged parts of the glacier, which proved more challenging and rewarding. The most difficult bit (as always) was the decent, trying to find a suitable route back to the trail leading to the terminus and carpark beyond. We made it back carrying a small bit of glacier ice to enjoy with our refreshments. It was simply a grand day.
At Fox Glacier we split company. Kari headed back to work on the Banks Peninsula, while Ben headed south to Queenstown, and Soren and I drove north to Greymouth. The primary attraction of Greymouth, the largest city on the West Coast with just under 10,000 inhabitants, is Monteith’s Brewery. Begun in 1868, it is one of the oldest in New Zealand and still brews according to the original recipe (sounds a little like Bavaria doesn’t it). Monteith’s is a craft beer produced in small quantities, but one of the finest brews in kiwiland. Just recently they started producing Crushed Apple Cider, which we were able to sample and I can report is most excellent. After a filling lamb lunch, Soren and I drove up over Arthur’s Pass and into Methven, the staging ground for our final ski adventure on Mount Hutt.
After learning we could get 2 for 1 lift passes at Mount Hutt with our Interislander ferry ticket, Sore and I decided we absolutely must go there. One of the main differences about ski resorts in New Zealand is that you have to drive to the slopes. There are no resort towns in the traditional sense of the world, because the slopes have to be located at such high altitude. In the case of Mount Hutt, the approach was a 15 km bumpy gravel road, somewhat resembling the Denali Highway. The skiing was well worth the drive however and we enjoyed yet another fine day in the Southern Alps.
On Wednesday, after a night of camping and dinner of pasta-mussels a la lift, we began heading north along the east coast of the South Island. We stopped in the town of Kaikoura and viewed the fur seal colony located just outside town. The limited number of mammals in New Zealand means that when you get to see them it is all the more exciting. The seals were so lazy basking in the sun and generally having a ball, quite easy to photograph I must admit. Next we stopped in Picton, to catch the ferry back to the North Island. Picton is truly a beautiful town with palm trees and a fantastic promenade along the harbor. Soren and I were able to soak it all in while enjoying some classic fish and chips wrapped—as per tradition—in newspaper.
Now back at uni, I deeply miss the South Island and eagerly await the next opportunity I will have to travel back. There is always summer… :-)
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