Relaxin’ in Christchurch… and Rennet

I spent this weekend in Christchurch. The weather forecast looked good so it seemed like a great weekend to enjoy the local surroundings. Saturday morning started off at the farmers market at the Riccarton Bush. Lisa, an American friend of mine, and I biked over to the farmers market and spent several hours perusing the scene and sitting in the sun, chatting and getting to know each other. It was a beautiful sunny day; the dew was sparkling on the grass. There was live music-- a guitarist with a kiwi accent playing American music. The vendors consisted of bakers, fruit and vegetable farmers, several classy chocolatiers, and a few pie stands, one selling fancy pies like greenshell mussels with white wine. Savory pies are a staple here in NZ (the closest thing we have in the US is a pot pie). These pies are available at every corner market and in the frozen section at the grocery store. Typical fillings include mince (ground meat), steak, chicken or fish. A true New Zealand icon! I’ve actually never had one. It’s a must for this trip, but Saturday wasn’t the day. I opted for a delicious piece of carrot cake instead, baked by a woman from Oamaru, a town south of Christchurch.

After the farmers market, we continued our bike exploration to the city with a few stops on the agenda. The first stop: the Canterbury Cheesemongers. We thought there would be tours, etc., but it turned out to just be a shop selling really expensive cheese… $100NZ/kg. Wow! There was one woman in the shop who bought cheese and 4 baguettes. Her bill was $130NZ. Who can afford this? I meanwhile took this opportunity to learn about cheesemaking and started asking questions about rennet, which is an enzyme used to make cheese. It is responsible for separating the curds and whey. Wikipedia “rennet” for more details! I noticed that the type of rennet used to make each cheese was specified. There were three types: traditional rennet, vegetarian rennet, and microbial rennet. What is traditional rennet? Warning: Skip the rest of this paragraph if you love cheese and don’t want to risk letting the gory details jeopardize your enjoyment of it. I was then informed that traditional rennet is part of a calf’s stomach lining. The stomach lining of a calf contains the necessary enzyme to make cheese. This is how cheese has always been made. There are other glorious details of the process, probably inappropriate for a blog, but Wikipedia does a decent job, so “give it a go” if you’d like more info. Bottom line: Most cheese is not vegetarian.

A few stops after the Cheesemonger brought us to Map World, a shop full of maps, books, topo software, and $100+ compasses. So cool! Curtis, I wish you could have been there to see all these topo maps. Saturday continued on, exploring the city, and finished with dinner at Lisa’s flat.

Sunday brought more beautiful weather. But it was frosty! According to MetService, at 9am it was -3.1C (26F), but felt like -5C (23F). Brrrrrr… I had planned to spend the day biking out to Sumner, a suburb of Christchurch located on the coast. I started assessing the bike situation. My host family has lots of bikes, but they all seem to have issues with them. The bike I normally ride was way too uncomfortable to ride long distances so I decided to use their son’s old Giant mountain bike. Only problem… it had a flat tire from last week when their son was visiting. As his mom said, he didn’t fix it because “he couldn’t be bothered.” That is a theme prevalent in the kiwi way of life. I set out to look for a spare tube. Searching through an unfamiliar garage is not always the easiest. The dad finally helped me find everything. Turns out there weren’t any tubes without previous punctures. So I patched 2 tubes, put one in the tire, packed the other one in my backpack as a spare, along with a hand pump. The tire looked old and both tubes had been patched several times before... A sign… But this was my best option. I finally got going. The dad recommended what route I take. Luckily I had a map. It was a nice ride, but the route he recommended was way out of the way and wound confusingly along a river. I’m sure I consulted the map at least 10 times on the way out there. I spent some time in Sumner sitting in the sun by the sea wall, eating lunch, watching the sane kiwis eat ice cream and the insane kiwis surf. Then I headed home, racing the sun. There wasn’t much daylight left, but I did have my lights. About 30 minutes from home, pedaling began to get significantly harder. I checked the tire. It was losing air. I pedaled on for a bit, then finally stopped. I really didn’t want to change it. It was cold, the sun was setting. I had a pump with me so I decided to just pump it up as much as I could, then continue to ride. When I was about 10 minutes from home, it was getting low again. But I couldn’t be bothered! There was enough air to keep the wheel from getting damaged so I just keep pedalin’. I made it home. Fun day! Google maps revealed it was a 50 km (31 miles) ride. First time I’ve done that on a mountain bike.

The Pacific Ocean. Looking West from Sumner.

Surfing in front of the Esplanade in Sumner.

Hurunui River Tramp: Disaster or Adventure?

Last week I sent an email to a friend asking her if she’d be interested in a weekend tramp to the Hurunui Hut. Before I knew it, she sent an email to invite others and I became the trip leader. Six total, including me. I got the hut tickets, bought the food and fuel, got a topo map, sent everyone a detailed email of what to bring, along with a link to the website explaining the tramp. Perhaps the key mistake was saying it was a laid back, easy tramp. It actually is pretty easy, but I guess a bit longer than I remembered. I might have downplayed the length a bit, as when I did this tramp 6 years ago, I was with 3 experienced hikers, one of which had done the PCT. We were flying. The other girl and I had to practically jog to keep up. This trip was the opposite.

First, we got off to a late start. We were supposed to leave Christchurch at 9am but they were late to get going and didn’t pick me up until 10. All six of us piled in one station wagon, four in the back bench. It was snug. With limited daylight down here in the winter, I already knew there was a good chance that if we didn’t get moving, we’d be hiking in the dark. The drive was too lesuirely, with stops at the market, the bathroom, and of course, picture stops to soak in the beautiful scenery. After about an hour of driving, the road turned into a gravel road for the next hour with some river crossings, one so deep we had to all get out so the driver could fly through with as little weight as possible. Long story short (a little shorter anyway), we didn’t start hiking until 1:30pm. Not good when it will take ~5 hours to the hut and the sun sets at 5pm.

The walk began. I tried several tactics to encourage people to walk faster but it was no use. The stroll was the pace. A little side note intended to help frame the situation, not to seem boastful: I was carrying all the food (minus lunch) for 6 people, the fuel, the pots, the stove, the water filter… No one volunteered to help and since everyone’s bags were packed, I didn’t even ask. Splitting up food would slow us down and we needed to get moving! Some of my compadres hadn’t been backpacking before. One girl had her sleeping bag tied to a daypack with bungee cords. It wasn’t working so well as it was just dangling behind her, hitting her legs with every step. One of the guys tried to help re-tie it, but it was no use. After about 20 minutes of watching it hit her in the back of her legs continuously and realizing the guys weren’t going to help, I offered to strap it on to my pack. So we continued on, now with my pack about 3 times the depth of me. I felt like I was some sort of livestock, hauling goods.

It began to get dark. We were still hiking through the sheep pastures and hadn’t yet reached the trail. Time for the torches, as they say here in NZ (flashlights and headlamps)! Two people didn’t bring a torch. The English guy’s torch was dimming quickly as the batteries were dying. We got on the trail and struggled to look for each orange triangle marking the trail… if only they were reflective. This forest got us lost last time I was here and it was just as confusing this time. I put new batteries in my headlamp and we all cheered at the amount of light it brought. This, we thought, was our saving grace. So we trucked on. We continued to lose and find the trail, and eventually got to a sign, “Hurunui Hut 30 minutes.” We were close! I thought this was in the bag. We trucked on in the dark, chattering away, until one girl suggested that she thought we had passed it because the trail had joined the river again. Everybody had different ideas and we eventually turned around and trucked back up the hill we just came down. When we got to the top we saw a split that we hadn’t seen the first time. Now we were confused. We tried to stay together so we wouldn’t lose anyone, but getting 6 people to quickly move back and forth along the trail to look for hints and figure out where we were was not easy. Inertia! They decided to stay put for a bit at a spot we recognized from the trip out and I set out down the unfamiliar trail to see where it went. I guess I was gone for about 10-15 minutes. It only seemed like 5 in my head. I kept hoping that if I went just a little bit further, just around the next bend, I would see a hint or the hut… I didn’t want to turn around. I soon realized the hut was not on this trail so trotted back up the hill to join them. I heard them calling me and I yelled back, “Coming!”. I later found out that they couldn’t hear me at all. All 5 of them were yelling together for me and my one voice yelling back was just not loud enough. The next day I found out that it was at this point that they thought I was lost in the forest and they were coming up with a plan on what to do. Lesson noted, but I didn’t want to waste their energy having them come with me.

We regrouped at the intersection, looked at the map and decided that we were likely at the first split off the main trail, not the second which is where the hut was. We marked this spot with a big branch across the trail and headed back down the wet scree for the third time. I think everyone was convinced at this point that there wasn’t actually a hut and that we were sleeping outside. I knew we were going to find this hut. I just prayed that the weather would hold and that everyone would be able to dig for just a little bit more energy to keep on going. We hit the river again and then came to the second major split and headed up the hill. This had to be it! It looked familiar, but then again everything was looking familiar and it was becoming confusing. Everyone else already doubted what I said and I was now starting to doubt myself too. But soon we saw a flicker of light through the trees. Was that someone’s light at the hut? We all turned our torches off and looked through the trees. It was the hut! We had made it. A friendly Kiwi couple was staying at the hut and they had 3 candles burning. Everyone cheered and hugged. It had been 7 hours since we began walking and at least 2 of those were spent going back and forth in the dark, deliberating, knowing the hut was within 30 minutes.

The hut was warm and glorious. For dinner, I cooked spaghetti with marinara sauce topped with Tasty cheese and some carefully transported french baguettes on the side. Everyone ate happily and went to bed. I climbed into my Helium sleeping bag, thinking that this bunk was way too comfortable for camping, but was overwhelmingly grateful to be in the hut. We set a plan to wake up at 7am to hike to the hot springs, which were an hour past the hut, to give ourselves time to get back to the hut and out by dark. The first day was a hard day mentally, keeping everyone’s spirits and energy up, but I thought the hot springs the next day would redeem the trip. I guess I forgot—everything in New Zealand is an adventure.

My alarm went off at 7am, but I couldn’t get anyone moving. We finally got out of the hut, but it wasn’t until past 8. The Kiwi guy at the hut gave us specific directions on where to look for the hot springs, warning us that it was hard to find and that there wasn’t a sign. I didn’t think it would be hard. Last time I went to the hot springs in the light and the dark and it seemed really easy to find in the light. I even remembered a sign. Another long story a little shorter, we could never find the hot springs. Time was ticking… We still had at least a 5 hour trek out from the hut, so we didn’t have time to spend looking for the springs. We made the decision to head back. It was hard. I knew it was there. But we had to go. Nonetheless the scenery was gorgeous and we got to watch the sunrise!

The hike out from the hut was long and slow. The girl with the previously dangling sleeping bag was tired and not feeling well. A couple of us took turns hanging in back with her. It was nice to have this time to just observe, snap a few photos and be in awe of what surrounded me. It was an amazing day, crystal clear with the sun shining bright! When we got to Loch Katrine, one of the lakes on the route, we had a snack break and the guys and I went for a swim in the lake. Quite chilly but it was a no brainer. I can’t turn down a swim. From here on, the trail was along a 4WD track. Several trucks passed us as they were heading out and the girl who wasn’t feeling well ended up getting a ride out to our car. This saved us a lot of time. The rest of us hurriedly hiked out to the car, piled in and headed home. We got through the stream crossings and most of the windy gravel road while it was still light. As we entered civilization again, everyone cheered when they saw streetlights and petrol stations. I, on the otherhand, couldn’t find any reason to be excited for streetlights or civilization. I’d rather be enjoying another night at Hurunui Hut. I, however, was grateful that all 6 of us were laughing in the car and the sign of streetlights approaching meant that the car was still working (that’s another story), we were heading home on schedule and everyone made it. These were all wonderful things!

I’ve only known these people for a few weeks and was pretty sure that after this tramp none of them would ever come on one of my hiking trips again. I thanked them for being great sports and re-emphasized how lucky we were to have such great weather, which made everything so beautiful. I knew that although they might not have enjoyed every step, the next day or at least a few days later when their aches went away, they would be happy they did it!

Believe it or not, these people still seem to like me. We hung out this week and everyone laughed and joked about our trip. I talked to my host family about finding the hot springs and they said there was a land slide a few years ago that filled in part of the pool. This probably altered the trail and took out the sign. I also found a post online from a Christchurch resident saying he looked for the hot springs for 2 hours and never found them. I didn’t feel so bad anymore. We looked up the actual distance of the hike when we got back… 45 km (28 miles) roundtrip.

Conclusion: I’d say it was a great adventure!

Driving down Lake Sumner Road, heading to the trailhead.

Hurunui Hut. Waking up, getting ready to hike to the hot springs.

Sunrise walk through the Hurunui River Valley. Intended destination--hot springs.

Lake Sumner. Day 2, heading back to the car.

Lake Taylor. Beautiful reflections.

Lake Taylor. More beautiful reflections. Look at this different ways and imagine!

Me. Almost back to the car, better take a picture.

Beautiful Creation, Beautiful Sunshine

Yesterday afternoon, the clouds cleared! I went for a bike ride through Hagley Park. The sun was beginning to set. It was gorgeous.

Mesmerized by the sky. Hagley Park, Christchurch.

Today was crystal clear. The sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was bright. I got to use my sunglasses for the first time since I've been here. There's not much of a view from the computer lab on the 2nd floor where I spend most of my time at uni. But I have discovered a women's restroom on the 5th floor of the mechanical engineering building that has a small window that faces the mountains. It's the only window that I've found that I have access to (the other windows are all in private offices) and that is high enough so I can see the mountains. I stand in this restroom with my face glued to the little window, peering through it to get a glimpse of the vast Creation I am surrounded by, wondering what is taking place out there at this very moment, anticipating my turn to go run and play in it. I knew there would be a good view today so I made a special point to use the restroom on the 5th floor as much as possible (I wonder if anyone else goes up 3 floors to use the restroom?). I even brought my camera once!

View of Christchurch suburbs and Southern Alps from the 5th floor women's restroom in the mechanical engineering building.

(This picture doesn't do the mountains justice.)

Have you ever seen "dull" used in the weather forecast? I've heard it twice today.

From the front page of the paper today:
"La Nina is tightening its grip on New Zealand and promising more dull, drizzly weather for the rest of the year."

Really, the rest of the year? It's only June.

Also relevant to my previous post, this article said that Highway 75 to Akaroa was closed on Sunday afternoon due to mud slides and trees on the road from the heavy rain, and it didn't re-open until Monday morning. It's a good thing we took the treacherous, gravel road home, or else we might have been stuck in Akaroa for the night.

Check out the full article.
http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/3863490/Heres-the-forecast-and-its-all-gloomy

Chilly Weekend: Fireworks, Tramping, and French

It was a festive weekend in the Canterbury region.

The weekend started off lively on Friday night. I caught the bus with some American friends to the Festival of Lights in Lyttelton, the port town near Christchurch. The light display was a bit dismal for a "festival of lights." I think there was a total of 3 strings of Christmas lights lighting up the entire block where the festival was held. But there was a fireworks show, live music and more types of sausages being grilled than I'd ever care to see again (the kiwis love their sausages... just wrap a piece of white bread around it and you're good to go). All the kiwis were out enjoying the festival on the street with their sausages and mulled wine, a few boys even in shorts. I, on the other hand, was a bit on the frozen side. Perhaps it was because I didn't have a sausage in one hand and a glass of mulled wine in the other. Lesson noted. I enjoyed the festival nonetheless.


Saturday morning was the beginning of my adventurous weekend with the French. My french flatmate hired a car and he and I, along with 3 other french guys, went tramping. It was drizzly and cold when we woke up, but we headed out to climb Mount Herbert, the highest peak on the Banks Peninsula at about 920 meters (~3000 feet). It's about a 45 minute drive from Christchurch. The hike was mostly through private sheep pastures, rising from the ocean to the peak, which is said to have beautiful views of Christchurch and the Canterbury plains. I can't validate that. It was drizzling when we started, then began to rain, then the wind picked up. Any moisture-wicking ability of my pants disappeared quickly and they soon became soaked. We were in a cloud for about half of the hike. My face went numb, then my legs, then my hands, but we made it to the shelter at the top. Ate lunch. Struggled to get my gloves on my hands then journeyed back down the slippery slope. We were muddy and a bit of mess when we got back to the car, but it was a fun first tramp in NZ.

The crew. Wet and happy to be almost down the mountain.

Sunday was another day, even a bit more French. We loaded up in the car again, me and the French guys, and headed to Akaroa, the famous French settlement on the Banks Peninsula, located about 1.5 hours from Christchurch. The weather was even worse than Saturday. It was raining and the road was flooded in sections. I tried to explain the concept of hydroplaning to the French in an effort to persuade them to drive a bit slower. I don't know if it helped much but I did find out that it's called aqua-planing in France. We made it to Akaroa. It was pretty but cloudy and rainy so the bay didn't exhibit the usual vibrant turquoise colors it's known for. We then ventured to Pigeon Bay, which has significance to my family as this is where my mom's family settled before coming to Hawaii in the 1860s. I went there with my family when I was 8, but remembered very little of it. It's a very small settlement with nothing more than a few houses. After a brief exploration, my French friends decided we were taking the coastal route back. This was where the biggest adventure of the weekend began. The road became all gravel and quite narrow. It had been raining so it was a bit slick. It wove up and down the hillsides of the finger-like Banks Peninsula, with a steep dropoff on one side with no guardrail. Luckily, the French guy driving understood it was good to slow down on this part of the road. It was still a bit sketchy. As we were going down some of the steep sections probably burning the brakes on the rental car, I suggested that they switch the car into 2nd gear or Low. I found out they didn't know what the letters stood for, i.e. P for Park, R for reverse, N for neutral, etc. We saw one sign that said "Christchurch 54 km" and the running joke was that this was the main road to Christchurch. For some reason, jokes don't even need to have a hint of humor to be funny when you're with French and there is a lot of miscommunication involved. Luckily, it wasn't gravel for all 54 km. We hit asphalt again and the roller coast ride continued. I was sure happy to make it home alive!


Summary of the weekend: cold, wet, and french, but a great adventure!

View of Banks Peninsula looking north.

Looking out from Pigeon Bay. Psuedo-symmetry!

Looking up the valley from Pigeon Bay.

Hello! Heading from Pigeon Bay back to Christchurch.

Addendum: My mind is getting used to biking on the left and driving on the left, but for some reason I'm still walking on the right. I returned to uni this morning and realized today that I need to walk on the left side when I'm walking up/down stairs or through hallways. I keep almost running into people and have gotten some curious looks.

Okay, New Zealand isn't perfect

The list of wonderful things about New Zealand seems almost infinite. As most of you know, if you get me talking about New Zealand, I might never stop. A select few tease me that I think of New Zealand as the land of nothing bad. It's probably true. The worst thing I've ever encountered here is sand flies, which I can easily fend off with some good insect repellent. But, on this trip, my fourth trip here, I suppose my perspective is a bit different. Working as a visiting researcher, looking at energy issues, forces me to confront some of the, let's say, challenges, of the country. Here are a few things that I've learned over the past two days:

1. Although New Zealand looks pristine, New Zealand still mines for and burns coal, an extremely dirty fossil fuel. The high smoke stack right outside the engineering building at the University of Canterbury is for the coal-fired boiler, which heats water that is distributed throughout the building via pipes to heat the building.

2. Many residents in Christchurch use some type of wood burning stove to heat their home. The amount of oxygen available to the fire (set by the damper position) is often not sufficient for complete combustion and thus large plumes of smoke exit the chimney. A clear signal! The good thing is that it's still possible to drink hot chocolate and eat Tim Tams around a nice cozy fire without the resulting smoke and air pollution! Just need to have the damper properly adjusted! (Sorry, this sounds like a public service announcement).

3. The result of (1) and (2) is that the air pollution in Christchurch is pretty bad, especially in the winter when wood burners and fire places are in high use. The temperature inversions often present in the winter exacerbate the problem, as they keep pollutants from rising and escaping. But this air pollution does help create the beautiful reddish-orange sunsets in Christchurch that I love. Catch 22.

4. Unlike many countries, energy is not the primary source of greenhouse gas emissions in New Zealand. In fact, 49% of NZ GHG emissions are from the agricultural sector, of which 2/3 of that is designated "enteric fermentation." Look that one up! Hint: Emissions from livestock. As NZ begins to tackle emissions standards and formulate strategies, this is a key area they will need to address. Tricky business! It's not quite as simple as installing a control device on a power plant to control emissions.

5. Last interesting fact, if you made it this far.... In California, the peak demand on the electrical grid usually occurs in the late afternoon on a hot summer day due to the high A/C load. The peak in NZ, however, occurs in the winter, two times per day. With short days in the winter and lots of electrical heating, the first peak occurs in the morning when people wake up and turn on their electrical heaters or heat pumps. The second, slightly larger peak occurs in the evening when people get home from work and turn the lights on (it's already dark) and the heaters on (it's cold). Very few homes in NZ have piped natural gas for heating and/or cooking. Thus, while both California and NZ are facing constraints on the grid, the issues and solutions are in stark contrast.

While NZ faces some environmental challenges, it is and will likely always be amazingly beautiful and filled with adventure that is unique and inspiring. Come check it out!

Beautiful Winter Solstice

It's a beautiful winter day in Christchurch. I woke up this morning to the first frost since I've been here. The grass was white and crunchy and the air was a brisk -2.8C (~27F). I went on a run, with 3 layers on top, pants, a beanie and gloves, ready to embrace the winter. It was lovely out, sun rising, high clouds glowing orange. The clear sky explained why the temperatures dropped significantly last night... radiational cooling!

While all you Northen Hemispherers are experiencing the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, we are having the shortest day of the year. It's a bit tricky to figure out if the shortest day of the year occurred here yesterday or if it is today. There seem to be conflicting reports on the internet. I'm going to say that last night was the longest night of the year here, which would seem to correspond appropriately to the longest day occuring today in the Northern Hemisphere. Either way, the days can only get longer now! Things are looking up!