People often ask, “Why do you do it?”

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Molly informed me that I have not been hunting in a long time and I should go out for a weekend… Well, not sure if she was trying to get rid of me or be nice, but I took the bait and planned an overnight trip to the mountains.  A few of my hunting mates just got back from a week-long trip, so they were taking the weekend to rest at home. That meant a solo trip in the mountains was on in store, i.e. no help from someone to carry the uber heavy load back to the car.  And no splitting the booty….

Big Game Hunting New Zealand is starting a TV series and put together this promo.  They put the Ethos of the Hunter so eloquently that I borrowed snippets for this post, (including the title) rendered in red.

“People often ask, “Why do you do it?”

a muddy mess of a 4wd, it was frozone on the way in. only had it ballancing on 3 tires once.

The access to my target mountain range can be shortened by 2 miles with a 4wd.  As the sign says, it’s only 4wd’s beyond this point.  I need to get mud tires or should have put my snow chains on, because it was a muddy mess of a drive.  It was frozen on the way in, but on the way out the top layer had thawed in the sun.  I only had it balancing on 3 tires once.

“It’s about experiencing the wild mountains”

the majority of the 4wd route in was easy farm track.

The majority of the 4wd route was easy farm track.  The highest peak in the foreground is where I was headed.

some access points to the mountains have old 4wd tracks that are now closed to vehicles but a Mt. Bike makes short work of the distance.

Some access points to the mountains have old 4wd tracks that are now closed to vehicles, but a mountain bike makes short work of the distance.

an old muster's hut from the days that these hills were run with sheep. the land has been turned over to DOC and for the publics use.

The hut where I stayed is an old muster’s hut from the days that these hills were run with sheep. The land has been turned over to DOC for the public’s use, and a stream babbles along near the front door.  The classic old hut smells of musty wood and dead fire great those lodging within.

“It’s about the sights, sounds and smells”

a view from the hut to the mt. I was headed up to find some Alpine creatures.

Here is a view from the hut to the mountain where I was headed to find some alpine creatures.  I drew a line up the ridge that I was climbing.  The ridge to the right held some chamois last year,  www.giveitaburl.com/2014/06/03/frosty-boots-in-chamois-territory/

 “It’s a feeling; a feeling only hunters know”

Climbing up the mountain, I ran into this big Bull Tahr. Wish I had my bow with me, I snuck in so close, could have stuck him with an arrow.

Success.  Climbing up the mountain, I ran into this big bull tahr.  Wish I had my bow with me.  I snuck in so close, I could have stuck him with an arrow.

Tahr is the only animal other than a Lion with a long mane.

Tahr is the only rug I’ll ever have with a mane.  Later in winter males’ manes grow twice as long as this.

“It’s about the wild things that people who don’t hunt never knew existed.”

close up for those wondering what a tahr looks like.

A close up, for those wondering what a tahr looks like.

a selfie with the phone as the weather starts to pack itself.

A selfie with the phone as the weather becomes “a bit average,” as they say.

 “It’s about surviving mother nature and being able to withstand everything she throws at you.”

as soon as I had shot the Tahr,the weather packed in, the wind pick up to a gale, with a snow squal.

As soon as I had shot the tahr, the weather packed in, the wind pick up to a gale and spit a snow squall.

butchering an animal in the alpine with no trees takes a bit of planning and finness to keep the meat clean. all of the bags of meat made it in my pack for the monstrously heavy pack back to the hut. crawled back into the hut, only about an hour after dark.

Butchering an animal in the alpine with no trees takes a bit of planning and finesse to keep the meat clean.  Try cutting up a huge floppy slippery mass on the side of a precipice and you’ll understand.  All of the bags of meat made it onto my shoulders for the monstrously heavy pack back to the hut.  I staggered back to the hut about an hour after dark.  I made a curious spectacle for the six other scrogs (= scroggin eaters = gorp eaters = trampers = backpackers) sharing the hut.

“It’s about pushing through the pain down on your aching shoulders, while you’re packing out 30 kg of meat you have just harvested.”

all packed the next day. rested and ready for the big haul out.

All packed the next day.   Rested and ready for the big haul out.

 “It’s about going back to your roots, becoming one with your surroundings in order to survive”

The new Kuiu backpackhas been great! the bag extends away from the frameto get the heavy weight as close to your back as possible.

The new Kuiu backpack has been great!  The bag extends away from the frame to get the heavy weight as close to your back as possible.  Molly thinks I should start making home videos of the Kuiu backpack in use (advertising) to see if the manufacturer will give me a gift certificate….

“It’s the wild things that make us hunters.  It’s the wild things that make us who we are.”

The ride out was a bit grueling, hard yakka!

The ride out was a bit grueling.  Hard yakka!

“The answer can not be found purely in words.”

We typically motivate Milo with an M&M ever time we pass a trailmarker, I was desperatly wanting an M&M everytime I passed a trail marker.

We typically motivate Milo with an M&M every time we pass a trail marker.  Milo thought it was pretty funny that THIS time, it was ME desperately wanting M&M energy. 

How does your meat get to your table?

 

Kiwi As

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Kiwi As_________  The New Zealanders never finish that bit of the simile, which is too bad because that’s the crux of it.  “Sweet As______,”  “Cool As_______,” “Kiwi As________.”  Never closure.  It’s a particular shame because in other styles of expression, they can be quite colorful.  “I’ll bet my left testie” comes to mind.  Or “as obvious as dog’s balls.”

At any rate, last weekend I went tramping Kiwi style--Wet Boots.  "Kiwi As wading thigh deep through crystal clear snow melt in one's prize leather hiking boots."  Stripped polyprop leggings with short shorts and gaiters would have completed the picture, but it was too warm for leggings that day.  Growing up in the northeast USA I had adopted the hiking mantra: "whatever else comes, at least keep your boots dry, and you'll be ok."  Walking straight through thigh-deep rivers in expensive leather boots seemed a travesty, but, "when in Rome, do as the Romans"....I've adopted the practice.

At any rate, last weekend I went tramping Kiwi style–Wet Boots.  “Kiwi As wading thigh deep through crystal clear snow melt in one’s prize leather hiking boots.”  Striped polyprop leggings with short shorts and gaiters would have completed the picture, but it was too warm for leggings that day.  Growing up in the northeast USA I had adopted the hiking mantra: “whatever else comes, at least keep your boots dry, and you’ll be ok.”  Walking straight through thigh-deep rivers in expensive leather boots seemed a travesty, but, “when in Rome, do as the Romans”….I’ve adopted the practice.  Besides, at times there’s not much choice.

My friend Carrie and I took to the hills with a forecast of "fine" weather (to this day I'm confused as to whether that means "sunny," or merely "not raining."  As we chatted our way up the Minga river valley in Arthur's pass I thought of a book I'd read by a British author, characterizing kiwi trampers as chatty and always coming in pairs.  Yup, that was us.

My friend Carrie and I took to the hills with a forecast of “fine” weather (to this day I’m confused as to whether that means “sunny,” or merely “not raining.”  As we chatted our way up the Minga river valley in Arthur’s pass I thought of a book I’d read by a British author, characterizing kiwi trampers as chatty and always coming in pairs.  Yup, that was us.  It was Carrie’s first weekend away from her baby, so she was particularly giddy with the regained freedom.

Mingha River narrows up towards the saddle to a stream, and a gorgeous one at that. What makes that blue color to the water? I've been told "glacier flour," which is particularly unsatisfactory because glacier-crushed rock is still made up of specific minerals that have distinct names. Plus, we went up to the river source for this watershed and there aren't any glaciers.

Mingha River narrows up towards the saddle to a stream, and a gorgeous one at that. What makes that blue color to the water? I’ve been told “glacier flour,” which is particularly unsatisfactory answer because glacier-crushed rock is still made up of specific minerals that have distinct names. Plus, we went up to the river source for this watershed and there aren’t any glaciers.  Whenever I see beautiful cold pools of clear water like this I think of my college buddy Emily, from Oregon, who, like a naiad, never able to resist a dunk in alluring stream pools.

There's our hut for the night, in Goat Pass. We dropped most of our gear there, then climbed up a mountain overlooking the pass to find a little alpine lake reputed to be beautiful. This bit of the hike had no trail, but it didn't really matter because there weren't any trees either.

There’s our hut for the night, in Goat Pass. We dropped most of our gear there, then climbed up a mountain overlooking the pass to find a little alpine lake reputed to be beautiful. This bit of the hike had no trail, but it didn’t really matter because there weren’t any trees either.  The Deception River valley is beyond the hut, a sinister name if there ever was one.  One day a year scores of intrepid runners traverse this pass, competing in the Coast to Coast race, an endurance test that includes biking, running and kayaking.  We decided that we were quite happy walking.

We got up the shoulder of Mt Oates (the peak is behind), and realized that the lake was up still a bit further. That dark spot where all the snow is melted is where the waterfall exits the lake. It looked like a long way away from where we were standing, but the snowy landscape wasn't as massive as it seemed, and we tooled along to the lake in short time.

We got up the shoulder of Mt Oates (the peak is behind), and realized that the lake was up still a bit further. That dark spot where all the snow is melted is where the waterfall exits the lake. It looked like a long way away from where we were standing, but the snowy landscape wasn’t as massive as it seemed, and we tooled along to the lake in short time.

There she is, Lake Mavis. Whatever possessed the namer to label this alpine tarn with such a stodgy and unromantic name, I'll never know. Even the alpine mud puddle that is the official headwaters of the Hudson River has a lyrical title, "Lake Tear of the Clouds."

There she is, Lake Mavis, tucked into the clavicle of Mt Oates.  Whatever possessed the namer to label this alpine tarn with such a stodgy and unromantic name, I’ll never know. Even the alpine mud puddle that is the official headwaters of the Hudson River has a lyrical title, “Lake Tear of the Clouds.”  In summer this would be a superb place to tent, but given the dark early nights of winter, we scrambled back down to the hut to put on our “puffer” jackets and ensconce in our toasty sleeping bags.

Here's our hut, 20 bunks but we're the only souls out here on a gorgeous winter weekend. Not sure why DOC thought it necessary to put the water cistern in FRONT of the porch.... The hut has no heat so we watched the stars come out while completely swaddled in our mummy bags, then went to bed early and slept nearly 12 hours.

Here’s our hut, 20 bunks but we’re the only souls out here on a gorgeous winter weekend. Not sure why DOC thought it necessary to put the water cistern in FRONT of the porch…. The hut has no heat so we watched the stars come out while completely swaddled in our mummy bags, then went to bed early and slept nearly 12 hours.

Morning found the valley swathed in mist, with the tips of the sunny mountains promising warmth to come. My frosty breath added (insignificantly) to the dampness, while my camera finger numbed.

Morning found the valley swathed in mist, with the tips of the sunny mountains promising warmth to come.  I could imagine native peoples coming up with interesting mythology about creatures who breathed over the land and created fog.

Boiling water for tea and oatmeal is a good start to the day.

Boiling water for tea and oatmeal is a good start to the day.  Hurrah for efficient little camping stoves and tidy canisters of butane.

The night before we had wagered from the setting-sun position that the hut wouldn't see the morning rays, but we were wrong. We sat with our breakfasts, sunning ourselves like turtles on the front porch.

The night before we had wagered from the sun set position that the hut wouldn’t see the morning rays, but we were wrong. We sat with our breakfasts, sunning ourselves like turtles on the front porch.

There was a little knob protruding from the valley near the hut, and we decided to climb it and take in the view. Frost had turned to icy dew on the grasses, but the puddles were still frozen.

There was a little knob protruding from the valley near the hut, and we decided to climb it and take in the view. Frost had turned to icy dew on the grasses, but the puddles were still frozen.

Here we are on the nob. What a backdrop for a cartwheel! Carrie is a much more accomplished cartwheeler than I, my wobbly flips hardly deserving to be called true cartwheels.

Here we are on the nob. What a backdrop for a cartwheel! Carrie is a much more accomplished cartwheeler than I, my wobbly flips hardly deserving to be called true cartwheels.

Carrie, thank you, we'll do it again!

Carrie, thank you, we’ll do it again!

Kaituna with six-legged drive

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It's been a year since we took a family backpacking trip--the last time we could manage to carry all our gear and two children on four parental legs. This past Saturday we did a test walk, a day walk up the Kaituna Valley track to Packhorse hut. Six legs in gear this time--Milo walked the whole way. Results are promising. It was only 2.5 kilometers to the hut, but steep in sections.

It’s been a year since we took a family backpacking trip–the last time we could manage to carry all our gear and two children on four parental legs. This past Saturday we did a test walk, a day walk up the Kaituna Valley track to Packhorse hut. Six legs in gear this time–Milo walked the whole way. Results are promising. It was only 2.5 kilometers to the hut, but steep in sections.

Milo was starting to flag and M&M energy was being doled out every third trail marker when he discovered his Echo. "Go A-Way" he shouted at the cloud spilling over the saddle. "Go A-Way!" the mountain tossed his strident little four-year-old voice back. Suddenly he discovered the well of energy reserved somewhere near his lungs, and belted out his challenge with gusto. He thought another little boy was yelling back. Then the cloud receded, and he gaped in astonishment, shaking his head. "It worked!" Right, we had a little talk about echos and skipped the tutorial on correlation versus causation.

Milo was starting to flag and M&M energy was being doled out every third trail marker when he discovered his Echo. “Go A-Way” he shouted at the cloud spilling over the saddle. “Go A-Way!” the mountain tossed his strident little four-year-old voice back. Suddenly he discovered the well of energy reserved somewhere near his lungs, and belted out his challenge with gusto. He believed another little boy was yelling back. Then the cloud receded, and he gaped in astonishment, shaking his head. “It worked!” Right, we had a little talk about echos and skipped the tutorial on correlation versus causation.

Mist shrouded the last little bit up to the hut, but cleared when we reached the top.

Mist shrouded the last little bit up to the hut, but cleared when we reached the top.

Cloud swathed Lyttelton harbor, and beyond the tops of the port hills sticking out we could see Christchurch still smothered in its chilly blanket. It made us doubly glad we had gone out hiking and escaped its embrace. We perched on a little promontory, watched the mist advance and recede, and precariously ate our lunches ("Naomi, sit, or you'll tumble backwards! Milo, you sit too!").

Cloud swathed Lyttelton harbor, and beyond the tops of the port hills sticking out we could see Christchurch still smothered in its chilly blanket. It made us doubly glad we had gone out hiking and escaped its embrace. We perched on a little promontory, watched the mist advance and recede, and precariously ate our lunches (“Naomi, sit, or you’ll tumble backwards! Milo, you sit too!”).

We have spent the night in this old stone hut before, and there looks to be a good stock of firewood so we could give it a go again this winter.

We have spent the night in this old stone hut before, and there looks to be a good stock of firewood so we could give it a go again this winter.

Naomi has such an engaging grin, even through grimy window glass.

Naomi has such an engaging grin, even through grimy window glass.

Milo enjoys his chocolate reward for having made it up the whole way without whinging.

Milo enjoys his chocolate reward for having made it up the whole way without whinging.

A little pouty face near the end--but a game of "I spy" perked him up. Next summer we may be able to hit the hills again with the whole family.

A little pouty face near the end–but a game of “I spy” perked him up. Next summer may see the whole family in the hills again.  

Kakanui

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Kakanui is a sleepy ocean-side hamlet about three and a half hours south of Christchurch. It's a little collection of holiday homes (many the old fashion shack-style "baches"), and apparently the sand at the mouth of the river there is perfect for cricket pitches. Go figure. We headed there a couple weekends ago because we can't stay put on a 3 day weekend, and we're operating under our usual premise: S+W=KH (Sand + Water = Kid Happiness).

Kakanui is a sleepy ocean-side hamlet about three and a half hours south of Christchurch. It’s a little collection of holiday homes (many the old fashion shack-style “baches”), and apparently the sand at the mouth of the river there is perfect for cricket pitches. Go figure. We headed there a couple weekends ago because we can’t stay put on a 3 day weekend, and we’re operating under our usual premise: S+W=KH (Sand + Water = Kid Happiness).

We were joined by our friends Sophie, and Ian, and their three daughters. We love our English friends, and one of the reasons they're so great is that weather doesn't phase them. They'll ruck up with long johns, rain coats, thermoses of tea, and enjoy that seaside whether it's sunny or rainy. They tell us that it's still all wonderful compared to the legendary English weather.

We were joined by our friends Sophie, and Ian, and their three daughters. We love our English friends, and one of the reasons they’re so great is that weather doesn’t phase them. They’ll ruck up with long johns, rain coats, thermoses of tea, and enjoy that seaside whether it’s sunny or rainy. They tell us that it’s still a picnic compared to the legendary English weather.

We saw some blue sky the first afternoon we arrived, before the clouds rolled in.

We saw some blue sky the first afternoon we arrived, before the clouds rolled in.  No mountains in sight–it’s a big sky.

Milo's one for projects! Jeremiah started the bath tub for the clan, and those members with wet suits partook.

Milo’s one for projects! Jeremiah started the bath tub for the clan, and those members with wet suits partook.

I'm not sure if this hillside was technically rock or soil....perhaps a mudstone? "Milo, stop! You're getting pieces in my nest!" Chloe noisily protested. The girls have yet to learn that the squawk reaction is intensely satisfying to Milo, and he grins as he sends another sprinkling pattering down. I remember my own father counseling me to ignore my younger sister's goadings as my whining only spurred her on. I was completely incapable of absorbing that bit of advice at the time, but now I find myself doling it out to the next generation.

I’m not sure if this hillside was technically rock or soil….perhaps a mudstone? “Milo, stop! You’re getting pieces in my nest!” Chloe noisily protested. The girls have yet to learn that the squawk reaction is intensely satisfying to Milo, and he grins as he sends another sprinkling pattering down. I remember my own father counseling me to ignore my younger sister’s goadings as my whining only spurred her on. I was completely incapable of absorbing that bit of advice at the time, but now I find myself doling it out to the next generation.

What do you think, stone or soil? It had fascinating little fissures where some mineral must have migrated during the formation process. Wish I could see it happening, fast-forward and at the chemical level.

What do you think, stone or soil? It had fascinating little fissures where some mineral must have migrated during the formation process. Wish I could see it happening, fast-forward and at the chemical level.

The same beach has another odd piece of geology. Moeraki Boulders are perfectly spherical rocks seemingly plopped into the ocean like...well, like a string of dinosaur turds. I spend a lot of time with a four year old. I believe they are technically "concretions," formed in sedimentary rock when minerals within the rock migrate to a central charged particle. Last time we visited Moeraki we saw some still being freed by erosion from their encasing rock. The kids thought they were fantastic podiums--Ella's got a cool pose going.

The same beach has another odd piece of geology. Moeraki Boulders are perfectly spherical rocks seemingly plopped into the ocean like…well, like a string of dinosaur turds. I spend a lot of time with a four year old. I believe they are technically “concretions,” formed in sedimentary rock when minerals within the rock migrate to a central charged particle. Last time we visited Moeraki we saw some still being freed by erosion from their encasing rock. The kids thought they were fantastic podiums–Ella’s got a cool pose going.

Naomi is developing a strong personality, surprise, surprise. The older kids were chasing the retreating waves then turning and fleeing up to the safety of the beach in front of the next cold onslaught. Naomi took off running, too, but it was cold so I wasn't interested in her falling and getting seriously wet.

Naomi is developing a strong personality, surprise, surprise. The older kids were chasing the retreating waves then turning and fleeing up to the safety of the beach in front of the next cold onslaught. Naomi took off running, too, but it was chilly so I wasn’t interested in her falling and getting seriously wet.

She was not happy at being thwarted! Pouty lip, lowered brows, she turned into a thunder cloud.

She was not happy at being thwarted! Pouty lip, lowered brows, she turned into a thunder cloud.

On the flip side, she's usually happy and delightful. Sun came out and it warmed up a tad and what started with a delicate foot-paddle turned into an all-out grubby mess, and her top layer was removed to salvage something dry for the ride home. I guess we need to get her a wet suit too.

On the flip side, she’s usually happy and delightful. Sun came out and it warmed up a tad and what started with a delicate foot-paddle turned into an all-out grubby mess, and her top layer was removed to salvage something dry for the ride home. I guess we need to get her a wet suit too.

Back at the bach I was working on dinner while Jeremiah was cleaning his fish, and I suddenly realized it had been a while since I kept tabs on Naomi. A quick scan of the house came up empty and I was starting to get nervous when the kids found her in the car, calmly polishing off the last of the gummy worms. She had consumed at least half a bag. And she still ate her supper. This little girl loves her food.

Back at the bach I was working on dinner while Jeremiah was cleaning his fish, and I suddenly realized it had been a while since I kept tabs on Naomi. A quick scan of the house came up empty and I was starting to get nervous when the kids found her in the car, calmly polishing off the last of the gummy worms. She had consumed at least half a bag. And she still ate her supper. This little girl loves her food.

Jeremiah's diving catch is displayed and given the appropriate admiration.

Jeremiah’s diving catch is displayed and given the appropriate admiration.

Wood stove is crackling, kids are fed and tucked into bed, and now it's grown-up time. we played games and drank beer, and I remembered my parents doing the same when we were little at our annual Cape Cod vacation. Happy birthday Ian!

Wood stove is crackling, kids are fed and tucked into bed, and now it’s grown-up time. we played games and drank beer, and I remembered my parents doing the same when we were little at our annual Cape Cod vacation. Happy birthday Ian!

Life is…

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“Life is__________.”  Fill in the blank.  It’s a wonderfully absolute and concrete assertion, bold and brazen.  Then you realize that you can fill in the blank with just about anything.

So Life is….well, to be honest, today it’s wanting to post a bunch of unrelated pictures that don’t hold a story line while feeling slightly philosophical.  The following photos display a smattering of our recent eclectic lives.

Life is an exercise in enjoying simple pleasures. Like a two-for-one Entertainment coupon for a frappe. Kids seem to be really good at this.

Life is an exercise in enjoying simple pleasures. Like a two-for-one Entertainment coupon for a frappe. Kids seem to be really good at this.

Life is "challenges and opportunities," at least that's what the business planning gurus say. You could view the devastation in centre city Christchurch as both. We're just starting to see buildings going up on the leveled rubble lots.

Life is “challenges and opportunities,” at least that’s what the business planning gurus say. You could view the devastation in centre city Christchurch as both. We’re just starting to see buildings going up on the leveled rubble lots.  The tram will use these tracks again some day.

Life is gorgeous, particularly if you look up close. I hope these clematis seed heads know how beautiful they are.

Life is gorgeous, particularly if you look up close. I hope these clematis seed heads appreciate how beautiful they are.

Life is about deciding when to snarl tough and when to smile ingratiatingly. Kids are NOT good at this. We borrowed two extra kids (Ella and Amelie) for this hike, and they all ran up and down the hill.

Life is about deciding when to snarl tough and when to smile ingratiatingly. Kids are NOT good at this. We borrowed two extra kids (Ella and Amelie) for this hike, and they all ran up and down the hill at Halswell Quarry.  The next week Milo whinged up slowly and scraped his knee on the way down, so I guess our perception of life is shaped by who we’re with and how we’re feeling at the time.  Super and Bionic one day, hopeless and pitiful the next.

Life is blurry and imperfect.... And I think these three were done with the art museum and ready to hit the playground.

Life is blurry and imperfect…. And I think these three were done with the art museum and ready to hit the playground.

Life is silly! Kids are great at this.

Life is silly! Kids are great at this.  Every parent says it, but I’ll say it again: some of the best toys are free empty cardboard boxes.  

Glamping

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April is a good month for holidays in New Zealand--Easter was last weekend and both the Friday before and the Monday after are public holidays. And April in NZ has decidedly better weather than April in NY! Jeremiah had planned a 10 day hunting trip with buddies, so I met our friends Laura, Audrey and Noah up at Hanmer for the weekend. Hanmer is well known for the cultivated hot pools. If Water + Kids = Happiness, imagine if that water is warm! Come to think of it, if Hanmer Springs Thermal Pools and Hot Springs installed a sandy beach, the joy would be complete.

April is a good month for holidays in New Zealand–Easter was last weekend and both the Friday before and the Monday after are public holidays. And April in NZ has decidedly better weather than April in NY! Jeremiah had planned a 10 day hunting trip with buddies, so I met our friends Laura, Audrey and Noah up at Hanmer for the weekend. Hanmer is well known for the cultivated hot pools. If Water + Kids = Happiness, imagine if that water is warm! Come to think of it, if Hanmer Springs Thermal Pools and Hot Springs installed a sandy beach, the joy would be complete.

When we arrived at the Top Ten Campground on Thursday it was relatively empty, and it was interesting to watch the ancient contraptions finagling tight corners behind their little four-cylinder towing cars. Jeremiah scoffs at the Kiwi way, tiny cars dwarfed by the contraptions behind them, negotiating alpine passes on their way to the holiday parks. But it seems to work for them. Car camping isn't really our forte, but after this trip I get it. The kids can run amok in a safe environment WITH a playground and other kids.

When we arrived at the Top Ten Campground on Thursday it was relatively empty, and it was interesting to watch the ancient contraptions finagling tight corners behind their little four-cylinder towing cars, then setting up their satellite TV dishes and grills.  “Glamping.”  Jeremiah scoffs at the Kiwi way, tiny cars dwarfed by the contraptions behind them, negotiating alpine passes on their way to the holiday parks. But it seems to work for them. We, of course, had our tent.  Car camping isn’t really our forte, but after this trip I get it. The kids can run amok in a safe environment WITH a playground and other kids.  If the parent has a buddy there too, the happy picture is complete.  

One fine warm autumn morning we went to a local animal park, where the difference between NZ and NY views on animal/public contact were in stark contrast. Feeding wallabies was really fun. They're like overgrown squirrels with beefy tails, though not nearly as cheeky or chattery as a squirrel.

One fine warm autumn morning we went to a local animal park, where the difference between NZ and NY views on animal/public contact were in stark contrast. Feeding wallabies was really fun. They’re like overgrown squirrels with beefy tails, though not nearly as cheeky or chattery as a squirrel.

Leaves are turning yellow and starting to fall--it feels like autumn.

Leaves are turning yellow and starting to fall–it feels like autumn.

Just next to the holiday park was a forest reserve with biking trails. It sure felt like Ithaca, with the mix of deciduous and pine, and the fluttering fall leaves.

Just next to the holiday park was a forest reserve with biking trails. It sure felt like Ithaca, with the mix of deciduous and pine, and the fluttering fall leaves.

A little pump track in the reserve was a kid highlight of the trip. Our crew zoomed over the humps on their balance bikes, and Naomi jogged up and town the hills on her own two precarious legs. Jordy (Laura's husband) joined us on Saturday with his new toy, a Go-Pro camera. The kid biking video below is his first production. Nice job Jordy!

A little pump track in the reserve was a kid highlight of the trip. Our crew zoomed over the humps on their balance bikes, and Naomi jogged up and town the hills on her own two precarious legs. Jordy (Laura’s husband) joined us on Saturday with his new toy, a Go-Pro camera. The kid biking video below is his first production. Nice job Jordy!

<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/124178742″>Pump Track</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/mjjordy”>mjjordy</a&gt; on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

On to Plan B

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For months now I've been wanting to get up to Goat Pass near the divide, but as my scheduled hiking weekend drew near the forecast looked not just damp, but chillingly drenching. On to Plan B. There are some tracks off Lees Valley, on the eastern (drier) side of the mountains, which have the advantage of being...well...not so wet. The hike overlooks a big station in the valley, the track is paved with sheep droppings, but we're still out in New Zealand countryside. Our friends graciously offered to have Milo and Naomi for the weekend, so Jeremiah and I walked together for the first time in over a year.

For months now I’ve been wanting to get up to Goat Pass near the divide, but as my scheduled hiking weekend drew near the forecast looked not just damp, but chillingly drenching. On to Plan B. There are some tracks off Lees Valley, on the eastern (drier) side of the mountains, which have the advantage of being…well…not so wet. The hike overlooks a big station in the valley, the track is paved with sheep droppings, but we’re still out in New Zealand countryside. Our friends graciously offered to have Milo and Naomi for the weekend, so Jeremiah and I walked together for the first time in over a year.

Remnants of the torrential rain in the divide occasionally misted our way, creating some spectacular rainbows and reminding us that we really were glad we weren't in Arther's Pass that weekend.

Remnants of the torrential rain in the divide occasionally misted our way, creating some spectacular rainbows and reminding us that we really were glad we weren’t in Arther’s Pass that weekend.

This is speargrass. It's beautiful, but WATCH OUT, it has pointy sharp needles on the ends of each grass blade that effortlessly pierce expensive gortex as well as human flesh. Apparently the roots must be quite lovely to eat though, since we saw dozens of patches rooted up by wild pigs.

This is speargrass. It’s beautiful, but WATCH OUT, it has pointy sharp needles on the ends of each grass blade that effortlessly pierce expensive gortex as well as human flesh. Apparently the roots must be quite lovely to eat though, since we saw dozens of patches rooted up by wild pigs.

Here's what Jeremiah is doing a lot of this time of year. No firearms on this trip because Molly DOES NOT HUNT, but that doesn't mean Jeremiah can't look.

Here’s what Jeremiah is doing a lot of this time of year. No firearms on this trip because Molly DOES NOT HUNT, but that doesn’t mean Jeremiah can’t look.

This is what hunters are aiming for this time of year--big stags. This fellow wandered past the hut on the trail of two females, and lived to....well....to do what stags do in the fall. Jeremiah's currently out stalking more of these guys through the mountains, this time gun in hand. Milo, ever astute to the family dynamics, graciously offered to let the head be hung in his bedroom if the trophy hunt is successful.

This is what hunters are aiming for this time of year–big stags. This fellow wandered past the hut on the trail of two females, and lived to….well….to do what stags do in the fall. Jeremiah’s currently out stalking more of these guys through the mountains, this time gun in hand. Milo, ever astute to the family dynamics, graciously offered to let the head be hung in his bedroom if the trophy hunt is successful.

Annihalation of the Flies

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Hunting flies. Can you hear Milo’s delighted giggles?

It’s late summer in Christchurch, and the house flies have started their invasion. Being of British decent, Kiwi’s don’t consider window screens to be a necessity. So on warm window-opening days, particularly when food is cooking, the flies swarm indoors. After two years of frustrations with pitifully inaccurate dishtowel swats, I finally added “fly swatter” to the shopping list.

It’s late summer in Christchurch, and the house flies have started their invasion. Being of British decent, Kiwi’s don’t consider window screens to be a necessity. So on warm window-opening days, particularly when food is cooking, the flies swarm indoors. After two years of frustrations with pitifully inaccurate dishtowel swats, I finally added “fly swatter” to the shopping list.

Now for a bit of a fly rant:  I hate them.

I’m not super cleanly when it comes to house (ok, admit it: I’m not super clean about anything).  But when there are more than 3 flies swirling between cutting board, hair, and door frame, my blood pressure starts to rise. I should be concerned because their feet have been exploring the diaper pail and are now traipsing over my scrambled eggs…but, well, we have immune systems for a reason.  (Speaking of, have you ever heard of “contact immunity” with live vaccines?…yeah).  Instead, these flies are repulsive for the same reason I hate the scuttling silverfish in the pantry—the memory of my entomology professor’s sage advice.  “You want an unusual order for the bug collection?  Find silverfish in dirty frat houses–they’re a Thysanura.”  These insects, like house flies and cockroaches, stereotypically plague residences of the sloppy and slovenly.

I don’t want my house to be like a college frat house!

The house sure looked like a trashed hovel this morning, after Milo dumped the toy baskets to use the baskets as pretend animal cages. In the foreground Naomi tries to figure out the snazzy new fly shooter given to us by our friend Laura. She understands annual NZ fly invasion.

The house sure looked like a trashed hovel this morning, after Milo dumped the toy baskets to use the baskets as pretend animal cages. In the foreground Naomi tries to figure out the snazzy new fly shooter given to us by our friend Laura. She understands annual NZ fly invasion.

Milo has the fly shooter sorted, at least the firing mechanism. To tell truth, he's a better aim with the swatter, and he proudly brings me his kill to admire before popping them in the trash.

Milo has the fly shooter sorted, at least the firing mechanism. To tell truth, he’s a better aim with the swatter.  He proudly brings me his kill to admire before popping them in the trash.

Here's my lame attempt at biological control. The first night we had the venus fly trap it caught two flies, but I'm not sure it's caught anything on its own accord since then. We feed it.

Here’s my lame attempt at biological control. The first night we had the venus fly trap it caught two flies, but I’m not sure it’s caught anything on its own accord since. We feed it.  I’m delighted with it nonetheless.

Floundermania

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I had plans to go hunting last weekend, but the weather in the mountains was predicted to be gale-force wind and we decided to “take a miss,” as the Kiwis say.  A small consolation trip was out to Lake Ellesmere, just 45 minutes south of Christchurch, to work on our duck blind construction.

Our blind is a pallet-and-scrap-wood engineering marvel which we hope will snag us some mallards come duck season. You might wonder how we'll ever retrieve said ducks from the middle of the lake (provided we actually make contact with our bullets). The "lake" might better be termed an overgrown "puddle," 48,000 acres but not more than waist deep. It's gradually filling in with river sediment and will some day make prime sheep pasture.

Our blind is a pallet-and-scrap-wood engineering marvel which we hope will snag us some mallards come duck season. You might wonder how we’ll ever retrieve said ducks from the middle of the lake (provided we actually make contact with our bullets). The “lake” might better be termed an overgrown “puddle,” 48,000 acres but not more than waist deep. It’s gradually filling in with river sediment and will some day make prime sheep pasture.

I was given a fish net from a mate at work that didnt have a use for it anymore. I have tried using it before and caught a few sticks and seaweed, so Mark and I had very low expectations this time around. we happened to bring it along with us when we went out to work on our mai-mai (duck blind)

I was given a fish net from a mate at work that didn’t have a use for it anymore. I have tried using it before and caught a few sticks and seaweed, so Mark and I had very low expectations this time around. We happened to bring it along with us when we went out to work on our mai-mai (duck blind) which can be seen beyond, that incongruous “bush in the middle of the lake.” 

 

mark dragging the net

As the net is dragged along, the weighted bottom edge scrapes along the bottom of the lake, waking up the sleeping flounder and catching them in the net.

fish emptying

shhh-bam! Fish in the net! After dragging the net in 3 times, we had more fish than we knew what to do with, or more accurately we knew that cleaning all of them was going to be a BIG chore.

Here we are with our catch, ready to dig in. Not really, we did cook them first. To be more accurate, three hours of hard work later we had honed our filleting skills to a T and had a bowl of paper-thin fillets (there's not much flesh on a flounder this size) ready to pack in the freezer.

Here we are, two bald guys with an appetite.  We did cook them first. To be more accurate, three hours of hard work later we had honed our filleting skills to a T and had a bowl of paper-thin fillets (there’s not much flesh on a flounder this size) ready to pack in the freezer.

 

Swiss Cheese Landscape

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Mt Owen is the highest mountain in the Kahurangi National Park, but that's not why it's been on my "must explore" list. It is featured in the South Island weekend tramps book with alluring photos of crazy funky rocky moonscapes such as these. My friend Laura lives near Nelson, the nearest city to the Kahurangi, so a few months ago we cooked up this scheme for the husbands to stay with the kids for the weekend, and for me to fly up on a Friday evening, then spend the next three days hiking, returning to Christchurch Monday night. I'll say this, flying for 45 minutes beats the 5.5 hour drive all hollow, even when you take into account airport lead times.

Mt Owen is the highest mountain in the Kahurangi National Park, but that’s not why it’s been on my “must explore” list. It is featured in the South Island weekend tramps book with alluring photos of crazy funky rocky moonscapes such as these. My friend Laura lives near Nelson, the nearest city to the Kahurangi, so a few months ago we cooked up this scheme for the husbands to stay with the kids for the weekend, and for me to fly up on a Friday evening, then spend the next three days hiking, returning to Christchurch Monday night. I’ll say this, flying for 45 minutes beats the 5.5 hour drive all hollow, even when you take into account airport lead times.

The walk starts out through native bush, climbing to convenient clearings for lunch, then back into a mature beech forest buzzing with yellow jackets. Then all of a sudden you drop into a valley and turn a corner and walk straight into Dr. Suess' snide bush, with these crazy-looking trees that normally don't grow on the south island. They are remnants of what used to grow here, before the last glaciation wiped them all out 10,000 years ago....except for this couple acre patch in the crook of the mountain arm that got missed by the scouring ice. There are mallow trees too, "hoheri," with white blossoms and jaggety-edged leaves.

The walk starts out through native bush, climbing to convenient clearings for lunch, then back into a mature beech forest buzzing with yellow jackets. Then all of a sudden you drop into a valley and turn a corner and walk straight into Dr. Suess’ snide bush, with these crazy-looking trees that normally don’t grow on the south island. Dracophyllum, a genus of plants that share a family with blueberries, of all things.  These ones are remnants of what used to grow here, before the last glaciation wiped them all out 10,000 years ago….except for this couple acre patch in the crook of the mountain arm that got missed by the scouring ice. There are mallow trees too, “hoheri,” with white blossoms and jaggety-edged leaves.

The 12 bunk hut sits just past the ancient plant remnants, in the valley around the corner from where this photo was taken. I wish I had gotten a photo of the hut group--they were a varied and amiable bunch, thoroughly enjoyable but without a group photo I won't bore you with the details. From the hut upward was all grassy and open terrain.

The 12 bunk hut sits just past the ancient plant remnants, in the valley around the corner from where this photo was taken. I wish I had gotten a photo of the hut group–they were a varied and amiable bunch, thoroughly enjoyable but without a group photo I won’t bore you with the details. From the hut upward was all grassy and open terrain.

We spent the night in the hut, then set out for the summit the next morning. Part way up the landscape opens out to a big grassy plateau dotted with a few tarns. They were tempting for a swim, but despite the clear water the bottoms are probably a foot of loose sphagnum muck. We passed.

We spent the night in the hut, then set out for the summit the next morning. Part way up the landscape opens out to a big grassy plateau dotted with a few tarns. They were tempting for a swim, but despite the clear water the bottoms are probably a foot of loose sphagnum muck. We passed.

But we did stop to oogle the alpine swamp plants, and discovered these cute little sundews. A different species than the Adirondack ones, but a friendly familiar face nonetheless.

But we did stop to oogle the alpine swamp plants, and discovered these cute little sundews. A different species than the Adirondack ones, but a friendly familiar face nonetheless.

No swim, but for some reason the idea of doing a cartwheel is this surreal landscape tickled my fancy. So with no daily agenda and no hurry, we stopped to play. Actually, one of the nice things about the hike was the total lack of rush. We could have reached the hut faster (DOC's guideline time was 6 hours, and we weren't much ahead of that), but why hurry? We were there to enjoy the place, so we enjoyed it with leisure.

No swim, but for some reason the idea of doing a cartwheel in this surreal landscape tickled my fancy. So with no daily agenda and no hurry, we stopped to play. Actually, one of the nice things about the hike was the total lack of rush. We could have reached the hut faster (DOC’s guideline time was 6 hours, and we weren’t much ahead of that), but why hurry? We were there to enjoy the place, so we enjoyed it with leisure.

I describe Mt Owen to Kiwis as "an alpine Castle Hill," but the limestone must be of a different breed because it erodes not to smooth friendly curves like those at Castle Hill, but to these bizarre finger-scraped points. A knowledgeable woman (alright, a bit know-it-all, to tell truth) at the hut described this limestone. She said it's so ancient that it was formed before there were even shell fish in the oceans, so rather than the more common shell-fish-corpses-turned-stone, this stone is made of the carcasses of one-celled organisms. Then it was squeezed and heated and metamorphosized to something akin to a soft marble. Anyway, it's soft enough for running water to sculpt.

I describe Mt Owen to Kiwis as “an alpine Castle Hill,” but the limestone must be of a different breed because it erodes not to smooth friendly curves like those at Castle Hill, but to these bizarre finger-scraped points. A knowledgeable woman (alright, a bit know-it-all, to tell truth) at the hut described this limestone. She said it’s so ancient that it was formed before there were even shell fish in the oceans, so rather than the more common shell-fish-corpses-turned-stone, this stone is made of the carcasses of one-celled organisms. Then it was squeezed and heated and metamorphosized to something akin to a soft marble. Anyway, it’s soft enough for running water to sculpt.

In many places the water had delved deep crevasses into the rock, leading us into a discussion of the subtle differences between an alpine creVASSE and a bodily CREvice. But I digress....which we did many times over the weekend.

In many places the water had delved deep crevasses into the rock, leading us into a discussion of the subtle differences between an alpine creVASSE and a bodily CREvice. But I digress….which we did many times over the weekend.

Here's the Swiss Cheese Landscape, dotted with holes. No surface streams grace these highlands, they're all subterranean, channeling rain water down, down, down into the depths of the mountain.

Here’s the Swiss Cheese Landscape, dotted with holes. No surface streams grace these highlands, they’re all subterranean, channeling rain water down, down, down into the depths of the mountain.  The track guides caution to stick to the track in snow and don’t attempt it in poor visibility.  I can see why.

The stream stays underground for the whole height of the mountain, then emerges in a surprisingly vigorous flow from a still pool near the bottom. It's cold!

The stream stays underground for the whole height of the mountain, then emerges in a surprisingly vigorous flow from a still pool near the bottom. It’s cold!

Laura didn't actually fall in this hole, we staged this one kicking the bottom to make sure it was solid enough to stand. She looks like a gopher!

Laura didn’t actually fall in this hole, we staged this one kicking the bottom to make sure it was solid enough to stand. She looks like a gopher!

The view from Mt Owen towards the northwest (looking into the Kahurangi park) is refreshingly green.

The view from Mt Owen towards the northwest (looking into the Kahurangi park) is refreshingly green.

At the top, surveying our domain. It's good to live in New Zealand.

At the top, surveying our domain. It’s good to live in New Zealand.

The misty clouds started skimming across the top while we ate lunch, but it just took us a little way on the return in the lee of the hill to warm up again.

The misty clouds started skimming across the top while we ate lunch, but it just took us a little way on the return in the lee of the hill to warm up again.

The scenery was awesome, the weather was impeccable....but the highlight was three solid days of uninterrupted girl talk. Laura's kids are 5 and 3, while mine are 4 and 1. We each have husbands. We're interested in what makes people tick. The conversation was rich. What if Milo decides he's interested in marijuana when he gets older? We know what we'll do. Is it bad for your kids to move them during their primary school years? Not sure, but we considered all the angles. One of my work colleagues just accused me of being overly talkative, "yip yip yip," she said with a grin. Well, we yip yapped the days away, and we feel all the more whole and complete as women and mothers because of it.

The scenery was awesome, the weather was impeccable….but the highlight was three solid days of uninterrupted girl talk. Laura’s kids are 5 and 3, while mine are 4 and 1. We each have husbands. We’re interested in what makes people tick. The conversation was rich. What if Milo decides he’s interested in marijuana when he gets older? We debated what we’ll do. Is it bad for your kids to move them during their primary school years? Not sure, but we considered all the angles. One of my work colleagues just accused me of being overly talkative; “yip yip yip,” she said with a grin. Well, we yip yapped the days away, and we feel all the more whole and complete as women and mothers because of it.