A different New Brighton

I biked along the Avon River to New Brighton on Sunday with my friend, Lisa. Last time I was in NZ, the highlight of New Brighton was the great thrift store, where I outfitted myself in cheap but unfashionable winter attire to keep warm for the winter. This time, New Brighton brought other interesting sights. Some observations and highlights...

Countdown supermarket workers enjoying a lunch break watching the waves, sitting on a transformer outside the store in New Brighton. Doesn't this remind you of construction workers in New York City or something of the sort?

Art in the sand. The tide came up eventually and soon the "artist" collected his rake and hoe, strapped it onto the side of his black beach cruiser (bottom left) and rode off.

New Brighton Public Library. The sweetest library I've ever been to. It's right on the beach! That's me pretending to read a magazine, but actually just staring out the window.

Nice waves and crazy surfers in freezing cold water. Many didn't even have hoods or gloves.

Plains to mountains to beach and back again

No plans for the weekend. An itch to get to the mountains. (I was tired of just looking at them through the window in the women's restroom on the 5th floor.) Thus, I made a spontaneous decision to take the train to the West Coast on Saturday morning with an American (the dangling sleeping bag girl from the Hurunui trip) and two of her English friends. They had tickets to take the return train back on Sunday, but I decided I would spend Sunday night in Arthurs Pass in the Southern Alps. The idea of taking a train or bus back through the mountains the next day without getting to play in them seemed most painful. I bought my train ticket late Thursday night and reserved a hostel for Saturday night in Greymouth. I checked the bus schedules for the return trip. There were still openings and since it's the off season, I figured there was no rush to book the bus and that I would do it Friday. I worked Friday, got home, and decided to book the bus tickets... but, the Arthurs Pass to Christchurch Bus was full. Hmmm. "Oh well, I'm still going," I thought, "something will work out." I figured I would check on it later to see if there were cancellations. If not, I'd try to make friends in the hostel or find some friendly folk to get a lift with, i.e. hitchhike. There is only one road through Arthurs Pass and almost everyone driving east on it goes to Christchurch.

I caught the bus to the train station at 7am Saturday morning in the rain. The train set off west, through the suburbs of Christchurch, in the fog. The Waimakariri River Gorge is supposed to be one of the most beautiful features of the ride. It was beautiful indeed, but the fog limited the visibility. After a short stop in Arthurs Pass, we got back on the train and entered an 8km tunnel. When we emerged, all the passengers on the train, exclaimed in unison, "woah"... it was crystal clear and sunny. What a contrast to the east side of the divide! The train had an open air viewing car which was fun, noisy, and a bit awful when we went through the tunnels, as all the diesel exhaust came funneling down the tunnel. But it was a great place for picture taking, if you could keep your hand steady.

Greymouth is a small, modest town that sits on the west coast at the end of the train line. It was absolutely beautiful and pleasant in Greymouth. (Last time I was in Greymouth, it was, well, grey.) We took a walk on Point Elizabeth track along the coast and were even treated to a gorgeous sunset. Dinner was the low point of the night. A venison pie! I've been wanting to try a meat pie and wanting to try venison and we were at a pretty nice restaurant. Seemed like the time to go for it. And well, I don't wish to eat another meat pie. Perhaps, it was just a bad one. I'll try to keep an open mind.

I caught an 8am bus out of Greymouth. The sun was rising. I felt pretty special to experience the loveliness of that morning. I sat in the front seat of the bus and the chatty kiwi bus driver kept talking to me. We talked energy, everything from haphazard hydro schemes to ocean energy, cars, petrol, the details of running a bus company, etc. I hopped off in Arthurs Pass around 10am. He thanked me for the nice chat and off I went. A day by myself to explore the mountains and I couldn't see a cloud in the sky. I changed into my tramping gear, dropped my pack off at the hostel, and went to the DOC visitor's center to check on the hikes in the area. I decided on a track, filled out an Intention card so they would come find me in the morning if I didn't make it back and headed for the trailhead.

I climbed up Avalanche Peak via Scotts Track. It was up for about 2.5 hours, starting at 730 meters (2400 feet) to about 1500 meters (4920 feet), which is where I decided to stop because I didn't have crampons, an ice axe, or a friend. The peak sits at 1820 meters (5970 feet). Next time! But the views were amazing! And I even got a bit of an arm workout. Both hands were required for maneuvering along this trail, which was rocky and/or eroded in sections. I enjoyed a quick lunch on the mountain, then noticed some clouds billowing over the nearby Mount Rolleston. I observed the clouds and the wind for a bit, then decided I should head down. I made it down while the weather was still nice and spent the rest of the afternoon reading and drinking a fancy hot chocolate.

Monday was rainy. I layered up, with a rain jacket and rain pants as the outer layer. I hiked around the lower elevations to Devil's Punchbowl waterfall, then took a connecting trail to Bealy Valley for a little extra exploration. Then I headed back to Arthurs Pass to catch the bus home to Christchurch. Yes, it turned out there was just one spot available. No hitchhiking this time.

It was a wonderful weekend with a nice balance. Time with friends and time alone. Leisure and adventure. Beach and mountains. Sun and rain. I was happy!

Winding through Waimakariri River Gorge on the train.

"Woah, it's sunny on this side!" West of the Southern Alps.

The crew on the train.

View from Point Elizabeth, 6km north of Greymouth.

Point Elizabeth Track trailhead. And a beautiful beach!

Mountain wave clouds!

Heading up Scotts Track.

10 second timer. A bit squinty and a bit blurry-- the wind kept shaking the camera.

Mount Rolleston.

Delectable hot chocolate. Kiwis take pride in their cafe drinks.

Grateful

Some sunshine, some clouds, a seemingly warm 10C (50F) with a light breeze, a delicious bowl of Hubbard's muesli topped with sliced fresh Golden Kiwi (http://www.hubbards.co.nz/productList.aspx?cid=17). I think this day could go in Frank Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life."

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.)