Goodbye New Zealand

Sitting in the Auckland airport at 6am, waiting for my flight to Hong Kong I’m attempting to process the last 6 months of my life. It’s a very odd feeling to just pick up and leave the place you’ve been living, where you’ve had awesome friends, a job, and an incredible time. I’ve just had the most amazing year of my life and I’m leaving it all behind because I want to go home. During my travels over the past year I’ve had moments of homesickness, but they were always short lived. I never got to the point where I just wanted to get on a plane and see my family, friends and city again so strongly that it was all I could think about until a month ago. So I decided to go home. It’s hard to explain, I know Vancouver will always be there, but I think after a year of travel I’ve come to appreciate my home even more, and it’s just where I want to be right now. Sometimes in life you just know you need to do something, and you can’t explain why, but you know it’s the right thing to do. And that’s how I feel about going home.

I’ll never forget all the people and places I’ve seen in New Zealand. I’ve been constantly blown away over the last 6 months at the kindness and hospitality of people here. I could never begin to repay it. I really hope some of the people I’ve met come to Canada so I can invite them into my home and show them some of the Canadian wilderness and wonders. And I’ll miss everybody so very very much. A good friend of mine once told me it’s better to say farewell, and not goodbye. I can’t assume I’ll never see the people that have filled my life the past 6 months again, that would be to painful. So instead I said all of my goodbyes while looking forward to when our paths cross again, where ever in the world that might occur.

It’s funny how we end up certain places in the world. Sitting in the Dunedin airport with my Canadian friend Madelaine we recounted how I ended up in New Zealand to begin with. Two and a half years ago when she was trying to decide where to go on exchange in NZ a friend of hers told her about the OUTC, and that made her decide to come to Dunedin. She met somebody and moved back to New Zealand after her year of exchange there. I’d heard lots of stories about Dunedin and the tramping club from Madelaine and it sounded like the kind of place I would enjoy, so I decided to spend some of my year of travel working in New Zealand. 6 months ago I stepped off the plane with only my working visa in hand and a good friend to pick me up at the airport. No job or place to live, just a general faith that things would work out as they always have during my travels.

And they certainly did work out, incredibly well. In fact looking back on everything it’s a bit hard to believe how well things worked out. Within a month of arriving in NZ I had a job at the University of Otago and a place to live. I’d done my first couple of tramping trips, visited some old friends in Christchurch and was beginning to get involved in the OUTC. I’ll always remember that first trip with Madelaine, 5 days spent in the Borland Mountains in Fiordland. We didn’t see a single other soul. Perhaps that’s what blows me away the most about New Zealand, wherever you go in the wilderness you just don’t see any other people, and all of the sights are absolutely incredible. It was an exhausting trip, on day three I sat tired on a rock and asked Madelaine “are all the trips in the tramping club this hard? Because if they are I don’t think I’m going to survive.”

Turns out they weren’t, the OUTC was as much a social club as it was about tramping. And it became the social center of my life for 6 months. It’s been awesome, and it’s the people that made it that way. From David and Madelaine, to whom I will never be able to repay the kindness I received in getting myself set up in New Zealand. To Claire who informed me of everything I needed to know to survive in the OUTC and regaled me with stories of years past (I can only hope I have made it into her tramping club story books). My flatmates who must have thought I was a bit nuts going away every weekend, “that crazy Canadian”. Tim and Sarah with their quircky sense of humour and velociraptor awareness. Nick, who I went on several trips with and had great chats with about all things OUTC that drove me nuts. Rowan always asking me to make him breakfast in bed on tramping trips and making fun of me for my teletubby booties, jacket and anything else he could come up with. Colleen, for her random but true observations about the world and never exaggerating. Erica, for being American. Cleo, for always being super happy and upbeat, and just loving tramping. Peter for stirring shit up, Brittany for the random acts of kindness. Sarah and the Saturday trips to the farmers market. Paula for always saying exactly what was on her mind. Of course then there are all the places I spent time with and met these people. The Cook for Tuesday happy hour, Eureka for better happy hours and Tonic for good beer with David. Clubs and socs, the gear room and the Otago room for all the trip planning insanity that went on there. And all the wilderness, Paradise, Fiordland, the Borland mountains, Mavora Lakes, Luxmore Hut and the Kepler Track, Te Anau, Christchurch and TWALK, Copeland, Arthurs Pass, Otehake, Golden Bay, Alex, real fruit ice cream in Cromwell, the lake at Wanaka, Mt. Aspiring Hut, Big Hut, Mt. Brewster, Rock and Pillar, Flagstaff, Mt. Cargill, even Gore. I will miss all these people and places. I also know I’ll cross paths with at least some of them again. They will always be my friends and remembered fondly with a smile and a laugh.

I’ve come home because I want my normal life back; however crazy that might seem. One with my friends and family, I’ve learned how important those close connections to home are to me. I guess in the end I chose those over the fun of travel because they’re more important to me then all the new experiences and places in the world I might see. I don’t know if this is the end of Tracy Travels yet or not. I might get itchy feet again in a year or two, but for now I’m going to stay put somewhere familiar for awhile and just love life as it is here in Van with the mountains and ocean, my family and friends.

Me on my first NZ tramp in the Hunter Mountains

Ping Pong at Big Hut

(This is a bit out of order, since I went on this trip prior to Aussie back in the beginning of July)

We decided to have a lazy weekend, which meant instead of the usual Friday night madness of packing up, buying food and trying to get out of Dunedin by 6pm we got up at a reasonable hour Saturday, went to the farmers market to buy our weekend food and drove the 1.5 hours to the Rock and Pillar range just outside Dunedin. This was my brand new (used) car’s inaugural trip. Driving the winding skinny highways in NZ was proving to be a new driving experience for me. Having learned to drive in a big city I’m not so experienced with highway driving. And my car mates Cleo, Colleen and Erica never ceased to miss a chance to make fun of my driving. The most memorable moment being when Cleo (a kiwi) informed me that I should probably look both ways when I crossed railway tracks to which I replied “there have been railway crossings?” (they aren’t nearly as well marked as they are in Canada).

View over the Rock and Pillar range heading up to the hut.

We arrived at the trail end just as the last mist was burning off the mountain tops and started the trek up to Big Hut. Cleo had warned us that it was steep, but had failed to convey just how STEEP that meant. We slogged up the track for a couple of hours until it wasn’t so steep anymore, then came across some really cool ice formations on the tussock and scrub. Everything on the hillside had windblown frozen ice on it, which made some really unique formations. We arrived at Big Hut just before sunset, and enjoyed the orange, pink and yellow glow over the ice encrusted mountain top.

Sunset over Big Hut

Big Hut was originally built as a ski lodge for downhill skiers before they moved on to bigger and better things in the area. Now it’s a great place to head up for a night and just chill out (literally, the place is an ice box). As huts go it’s pretty fancy with a fully equiped kitchen and a ping pong table! We played several rounds of X-treme ping pong to keep warm before heading outside to watch the stars for awhile. Once our backs were frozen enough from lying on the ice enjoying the perfectly clear night we crawled back into our sleeping bags.

We got up early in the morning to watch what turned out to be a non-existent sunrise, then trekked back down the mountainside and were back in Dunedin by 6pm despite my brief 2 seconds of pulling out onto the wrong side of the highway when we left Rock and Pillar. Driving on the opposite side of the road really messes with your head. It was great to get away for a weekend and come back before midnight on Sunday! And my car (and passengers) all survived the weekend so I was happy with my new purchase.

Sunset

An “amazingly beautiful” weekend

It was a perfect weekend (weather wise) so Cleo, Colleen, Erica and I decided to tramp up to Brewster Hut and get some good alpine views in before Erica headed back to the states. We took off Friday night with a boot full of crampons, ice axes and yummy food. About 4 hours into the drive and 30 minutes past Wanaka I realized I should probably have filled up on gas, and wasn’t sure if we’d have enough to make it past Haast Pass and back again. But at that point it didn’t really matter so we kept going. Note to self to remember to always fill up on gas when you can while driving in NZ. Fortunately we discovered there was petrol at Makarora, and Erica stopped having visions of us having to walk the highway back to Wanaka on Sunday after our tramp.

We camped the night at Cameron Flat and woke up the next morning to perfectly clear blue skies surrounded by snow capped mountains, a rare sight close to the West Coast in NZ. After a breakfast punctuated by explaining to the 30 odd Japanese tourists that pulled in for a photo op that “yes we really did camp here last night” and “yes it was very cold” and “yes us four girls really are climbing up that mountain over there” we were off to Brewster Hut! The tramp began with a foot freezing river crossing, followed by a 3 hour slog up through beach forest. And when I say up, I mean 1000m straight UP. But when we broke the bush line it was incredible. You don’t often get such perfect views as we had, I couldn’t imagine a better spot to eat lunch.

Me with Mt. Brewster in the background.

After lunch we threw on our crampons, picked up our ice axes, took some photos attempting to look way more hard-core then we actually are and began walking up the ridge. We took it slowly as one side was a sheer cliff and the other side a long icy slope that ended in another cliff. The views were nothing short of spectacular the whole way up. There’s something about snow capped mountains, glaciers and alpine scenery on a clear day that just can’t be put into words. Even Colleen who NEVER exaggerates about anything, and at most has described scenery in New Zealand as “pretty good” put it it as being “amazingly beautiful”. About an hours way up the ridge though we came to a particularly steep, icy bit and after some consultation decided none of us felt safe climbing up it given potential to fall several hundred meters to the valley floor if we slipped. So we stopped and enjoyed the sun and snow for awhile before starting back down before it got dark.

Enjoying the amazingly beautiful views!

We were a bit bummed out at not making the hut, but knew it was the right call to make given our level of experience in such situations. And enjoyed a warm dinner and some mulled wine after returning to Cameron Flat for the night. The next day was sunny again (2 sunny days in one weekend, almost unheard of!) and we took a short walk to the Blue Pools (which weren’t that blue) before heading back to Wanaka for a relaxed lunch by the lake and then real fruit ice cream in Cromwell. One day of gorgeous mountain top views followed one day of yummy food in the sun by Lake Wanaka and good company made for one of the best weekends I’ve had yet in NZ.

Playing around on the ridge. (from top: Erica, Colleen, me, Cleo)

Otehake Hot Pools

“If I die on this tramp I want to be buried with my scroggin and Pineapple Lumps” – Sam

Before going to Aussie I left my car at my friend Sam’s place in Christchurch. This meant he could conveniently pick me up upon my return to New Zealand. After which we had planned to do a weekend tramp before school and work started again for both of us. In a nice turn of events my friends Colleen and Erica from Dunedin turned up in Christchurch randomly on the Thursday I got back from Aussie so I invited them along on our tramp.

We had a relaxed Friday of shopping and packing before driving into Arthur’s Pass. I quickly became much less relaxed on the icy, windy roads through the pass but we made it to the DOC shelter, cooked ourselves some dinner and went to bed for what was a freezing cold somewhat sleepless night. The next morning was bright, clear and very cold. I went into the DOC office to ask about the levels of the Otira river that we would need to cross to get to our tramp and the DOC lady proceeded to inform me that the track we wanted to do would be “very hard” to follow and that she had done it last summer and “gotten lost several times”. Now I’ve become pretty good at finding my way on overgrown tracks/routes this past year but wasn’t to keen on it given the 2 feet of snow on the ground. So I asked her if there were any other options in the area she could suggest. To which she replied “well … you do realize it is winter right now and will be very cold if you go tramping”.

At this point I should have sarcastically said something about how I hadn’t realized that, and I was from Canada where 2 feet of snow on the ground was like a balmy summer, and walked out. But due to a lack of sleep my brain wasn’t functioning that quickly so I went and conferred with Sam, and we came to the decision to ignore DOC since they tend to discourage anybody with a North American accent from tramping and continue with our plans.

We drove out of Arthur’s Pass, and managed to locate the beginning of our tramp in the Taramakau Valley, which was described as “indescribably dull” in my route description. Cows followed us along the fences for awhile as we picked our way through scrub to the Otira river, which was actually quite low and we managed to keep our feet fairly dry. On we went up the Taramakau Valley and up Pfeifer Creek to a lovely spot by the creek for lunch in the sun. It was after this that the going got a bit tougher. As we scrambled around Lake Kaurapataka we lost the route a few times, but managed to backtrack until we reached the gorge that we were to follow on to the hot springs.

It was starting to get dark, which was a bit disconcerting given the sketchy trail markers so we quickly hurried on, picking our way across the STEEP edge of a gorge above the Otehake River until finally descending onto the river bank. At this point the route description simply said “follow the hints of sulphur in the breeze up to the hot pools”. We spent another hour wandering around the river banks trying to follow our noses to the hot pools. When we finally found them it turned out they were on the other side of a waist deep river! So much for our attempts to keep boots dry. Then I had my first ever real New Zealand river crossing. But what a reward we found on the other side – the best campite I’ve seen in NZ! Flat, tree covered tenting spots, fire pit with dry wood, and clean, clear hot pools situated in a river valley with mountain views all around. It doesn’t get any better then that.

We made a fire (which was a serious challenge with only beech wood to burn), pitched tents, ate dinner and then went to the hot pools for a well deserved soak under the stars. Apparently the Otehake Hot Pools are only the 2nd best pools in NZ (to the welcome flats pools at Copeland), but I’ve been to Copeland and these ones were definitely better in my opinion.

Returning to our tents we found that possums had raided the campsite. And when Sam realized they had eaten his scroggin (gorp in North America) many threats were made as he wandered into the woods with a boulder in hand hoping to squash the offending possums. There wasn’t much luck killing possums that night.

The next day we had a long conversation about how many possums each person in NZ would need to kill to eradicate them all (turns out it’s not a very feasible plan to get rid of them). As we picked our way down the Otehake river we found a much better (read: less wet and deep) spot to cross before tramping out. The drive back to Christchurch was one of the sketchiest of my life, with the car slipping on ice all the way down from the pass, and almost white out conditions with a cliff on one side and a gorge on the other but we made it back safe and sound. All in all it was a fabulous trip.

Mavora Lakes

At the beginning of semester here myself and Rowan (a kiwi OUTC member) had planned a trip to Mavora Lakes. The weather looked pretty bad, but we had a busload of people keen to get out somewhere, even if it was going to be wet and cold so we decided to go anyways. The theme of our trip was “blind optimism in the face of bad weather forecasts” and it worked out quite well for us. We left Friday night after getting some last minute supplies from the grocery store. I bought the spices to make mulled wine, but Rowan bought white wine stating “I thought it would taste better chilled”. So we had to go back in and buy red wine as well. Things were shaping up to be a good trip.

Our 6 person successful pyramid before the failed 10 person one.

After a night spent at Princhester Hut we drove to the Mavora Lakes trailhead. The tramp was down through a beautiful valley, with snow capped mountains all around us. The weather actually co-operated and it cleared up a bit on the Saturday so we had some sun. After a yummy lunch in the first hut, Careys Hut we continued on down the valley to Boundary Hut, where we were to spend the night. Once there we made ourselves some mulled wine and proceeded to do “traverses” on just about anything we could find. We began with hut traverses, where you have to climb around and touch all four corners of the hut not touching the floor or the bunks. Rowan and Nick demonstrated their flexibility (or lack thereof some of the time) in climbing around through the rafters while a few of the punters looked on in fear of the hut collapsing around us. Then we moved on to bench traverses, railing traverses and pyramids (success with the 7 man, not so much with the 10 man). After several bruises and cups of mulled wine we moved back into the hut as it was starting to get quite cold outside. 11 of the group members spent the night in the hut, which was quite warm, but Nick was relegated to his tent outside due to his loud snoring from the night before.

We woke up in the morning to snow!

We woke up the next morning to find the ground covered in snow! We packed up and tramped back along the track to the van, stopping for an epic New Zealand vs. Canada, US and Singapore snowball fight, which the foreigners clearly won. When we reached the van again there was 6 inches of snow on the ground, so we quickly drove out of there, praying we were driving out of, not into, the weather. Once we hit the highway we only had to worry about whether or not we’d make it to the next town for gas. But once again blind optimism got us through and we carried on happily to Gore for a feast of pizza and ice cream because we just weren’t cold enough yet. The moral of the story is: mulled wine + good people + yummy food + snow = tons of weekend fun, even if the weather forecast looks bad.

“Are you TRYING to sterilize yourself!?”
- Rowan, in reference to Nick’s multiple attempts at hut traverses through the rafters

Velociraptors at Mavora Lakes

TWALK! (aka: Matagari, the devil plant)

Every year the Canterbury Uni Tramping club (CUTC) puts on TWALK, a 24 hour orienteering race in the farms outside Christchurch. A whole bunch of us from the OUTC drove up so we could kick CUTC’S butt. My van had planned to camp beside the road but at the last minute Friday night I texted my friend Sam in Christchurch to ask if I could bring 10 random people over to sleep on his floor that night. To which he responded “sweet as”. I love kiwi hospitality

After a good night’s sleep (much better than if we’d camped between the road and the train tracks) we met up with the 200 or so other TWALKers to be driven by bus out to an undisclosed point where the race would begin. It was a perfect day and the location of the event had gorgeous scenery. The bus dumped us off by the side of the road, we were given topo maps of the area with little circles drawn on them for where the clues were placed and everybody took off running.

Team 'Velociraptor Awareness' with our mascot Albi the Racist Raptor

Costumes are popular at TWALK, our team name was “Velociraptor Awareness” and we carried our mascot, Albi the racist raptor (google Albi + FOTC if you don’t get it), along on the first leg. The best costumes though were 3 people dressed as kegs. 17km, 13 of the 14 clues found, many matagari scratches (a plant I have developed a new hatred for) and 6 hours later my group reached the hash house, a shearing shed at the host farm where we could warm up and get fed before heading out on the next leg of the race. We ate as much as we could and then 4 of our 8 team members took off into the dark for the next leg of the race at about 7pm. The rest of us ate and attempted to sleep for a few hours before they came back at midnight having found several clues, but also having fully drained our super bright flashlights for navigating in the dark.

7am after the sun had just come up and we could see where we were again

Only one person in each group has to go for 24 hours, and ours napped for about 2 hours until we headed back out again at 3am. Navigating in the pitch black, with only a compass and a map, no idea where you are, trying to find clues hidden in the bushes was a new challenge to me. After failing miserably on the first clue and falling into the bog we decided to back track and tackle the 3rd leg from end to beginning because the end of it was along fence lines. This would at least give us an idea of where we were. Following a mantra of “follow the fence lines at all costs” we got only slightly lost and ended up on the wrong side of the field we wanted to be on. Fortunately at that point the sun came up, for which we were all very grateful. We found about half the clues on the 3rd leg and returned to the hash house, wrecked physically due to covering lots of kms in the dark and total lack of sleep. It was an awesome weekend though, something I would definitely do again!

“We’re a pretty odd group of people if our idea of fun is to pay 100 dollars to spend the weekend sleep deprived wandering around farms looking for little pieces of plastic with words written on them.”
- at approximately 1am in the hash house, exhausted and sleep deprived

You could put on a toque to keep warm.

The crazyness that is the OUTC Fiordland trip began with ~100 people gathered at the uni ready to go with packs on Friday night. We were slowly organized into our various buses and vans and then set off towards the West Coast. Our van had my group of 8, who were tramping up to Gertrude saddle the easy way and another group of 4, who were going the hard way over a glacier. Myself and the other leader (a German guy) gathered directions on how to get to Milford Sound, and then took off. A few hours later everybody met up in Gore for some dinner, the Subway was inundated with dozens of Americans, the poor staff working that night must have been wondering what the heck 100 foreigners were doing in their tiny little town late on a Friday night! After dinner and getting lost for 20 minutes driving the wrong way towards Invercargill we managed to get back on track towards Fiordland. We arrived in what we guessed was our camping spot for the night at 1am, in the pitch black and fog, so we couldn’t see anything. I showed my group how to pitch our tent fly using some strategically placed iron bars and massive boulders lying around. As we went to sleep we could hear the sound of rockfall thundering down the mountain somewhere behind us and I hoped it wasn’t too close to our campsite.

The next morning we woke up to the keas pecking away at our tents, and incredible views all around us. It turned out we were camped below a massive granite face, on top of which was a glaciar. The thundering from the night before had been ice falling off the glacier. We were also on the road that goes out to Milford sound so as we got packed up in the morning hoards of tour buses came by taking photos of our campsite.

Eventually we begin our trek up to Gertrude Saddle. It’s a pretty easy going hike so we took our time with lots of photos snapped and food eaten along the way. I asked one guy tramping down if the views were going to be as good as I thought at the top and he said they would be even better than that! The views on the way up were amazing as well though, we were surrounded by super steep granite faces while hiking up a gorgeous valley. Then 3/4 of the way up we stopped at Black Lake. I had jokingly told my group to bring along swimsuits because we might get wet, but I didn’t think any of them would actually want to swim in a glacial lake. Turns out that all of them did! So we all jumped in to the lake, yelled and screamed about how cold it was and got back out as fast as possible.

Then while scrambling up the rocks a conversation about how old we all were began and after hearing I was 23 they started referring to me as the “responsible adult” on the trip! I guess that’s what happens when you lead a bunch of 18/19 year olds tramping and you’re in charge. It was fun though, it was like having my own little tramping fan club for 2 days.

After Black Lake we scrambled up the last bit of loose rocks and came over the top of the saddle to one of the most incredibly gorgeous views I have ever seen. We had perfectly clear skies (very rare in Fiordland) and could see all the way out to Milford sound through super steep mountain valleys. We all just sat and took in the view for awhile it was so amazing. It was one of those places in the world that makes you feel kind of small because your surroundings are so grand and stunning.

It started getting really windy so we hauled giant boulders to our camping spot and set up the tent fly and my tent. Some previous campers had built nice rock walls to protect from the wind, which we were pretty happy about. I was still pretty scared of how windy it was getting though so I spent quite awhile tying everything down with all the rope I could find to the biggest rocks I could carry. I think my group thought I was a bit crazy, but I certainly didn’t want to wake up and discover my tent had blown over the edge of the cliff we were camped beside!

As it got colder we all huddled around the camp stove drinking hot chocolate and wine. The other group was supposed to show up earlier that afternoon, but they were nowhere to be seen and I had assumed they had hiked back down the other side of the glacier. Then at 9:00 at night just as we were going to bed they appeared, just as the sun was setting! We fed them hot chocolate and beer, for which they were very appreciative as they still had to tramp down Gertrude Valley back to the car to camp for the night.

We had a decent nights sleep huddled behind our rock walls, although I woke up at one point and couldn’t see my tent. Convinced that it had blown over I stumbled out into the freezing cold wind to double check but it turned out I was just confused in the dark and it was still there. We cooked pancakes the next morning for breakfast in the giant fry-pan I had hauled up the mountain and then happily made our way back down the valley. Although we were sad to leave behind the views of Milford Sound. We met up with the other half of our group back at the car who had had a lazy day sleeping in and driving to the town of Milford Sound to check it out. I ask Ben if he thinks we have enough gas to make it out of Fiordland to which his response is “I hope so …”

On our way out of Fiordland we ran into 2 other groups who had just finished hiking, and are informed that only one group had to be rescued by helicopter during the weekend. Somebody had fallen down a steep gully and they weren’t hurt, it was just impossible for them to get out. So I guess David’s predictions about the weekend were correct.

Our weekend finished off with giant ice cream cones and Jimmy’s pies in Te Anau for dinner. I explained to the kiwi girls on my trip that in Canada there are no meat pies or takeaway fish and chips shops. They are shocked and dismayed by this fact and ask “but what do you eat after tramping trips?”

The weekend all together was fabulous, and I’m looking forward to lots more OUTC trips!

———-

A Canadian moment in New Zealand:
“You could put a toque on to keep warm.” – me
(rest of group stares blankly)
“What’s a toque?” – Kiwi tramper

Paradise

“So on your first outc trip you’re leading a tramp you’ve never been on before, you don’t know where it is, you didn’t get to choose it and you have the biggest group?” – outc member
“Yes, is that a problem?” – Tracy

Paradise is the Otago Uni Tramping Clubs (outc) first big trip of the year. They bus 70 people into the wilderness, set up camp, all go out on day hikes and then have a massive party in the evening. All in all it’s pretty awesome. I was supposed to lead an easy trip but there weren’t as many people as expected so instead I hiked up Turret ridge with David (the outc president) and his group. Which I was much happier about than walking up the Routeburn for a couple of hours.

We bussed up to Paradise (it’s actually the name of the camping spot) on Friday night and arrived late to set up our tarps and tents. The leaders all had tents while the punters (outc speak for newbies to tramping) slept under tent flys. We woke up at the early hour of 8am to start our tramps on Saturday. The hike up to Turret Ridge was about 4 hours of bush bashing to the tree line and then another 2 up to the top of the ridge. It was a perfectly clear day, we couldn’t have had better weather, so the views were outstanding once we were above the tree line. Clambering up the scree to the very top was a challenge, the big and small slabs of rock kept sliding away underfoot, and would cut you up nastily if you fell on them. But the views from the top of Mt. Earnslaw covered in glaciers were amazing. The more I see of New Zealand the more I love the scenery. Whenever you get to the top of something there are incredible views all around you.

We made our way down quickly because a feast awaited us back at camp. Actually, David wanted to get back quickly as he was in charge of judging the annual cooking competition among each group! We arrived back at camps to cries of “come try our food David!” so our group went off to cook up some yummy chorizo sausage pasta and rest our legs. Some highlighs of the evening included watching a fire spinning demonstration, consumption of much Emerson’s beer and worm wrestling (two people zipped up tight in sleeping bags try to pin each other to the ground).

The next day we blew up our inflatables, including Albi the racist dragon (watch flight of the concords if you don’t get it) and headed off to throw ourselves in the lake. It was another incredibly gorgeous day and we all enjoyed being lazy after our treks the day before. Except for the outc president who was tackled and thrown into the freezing river (apparently it’s tradition). Sadly the bus arrived that afternoon to take us home, but I drove back in the leaders van which was awesome because we stopped in each little town on the way home to sample the best real fruit ice cream and meat pies I have ever had. Debates over how many times a week you had to eat real fruit ice cream in Cromwell before it could be considered an addiction were had (since I’d already been there twice that week), and then we carried on home to Dunedin enjoying some leftover Summit beers (yes car passengers are allowed to drink in NZ).

—–

“Paula killed a lamb for me, that’s going to be pretty hard to top.” – David, while judging the cooking competition

“Jas why are you carving out that watermelon?”
“To make a hat!” – Jas (outc gear officer)

“I’m reading Zen and the art of mountain climbing shirtless because the author told me to.” – Alexis, on the van ride home when asked why he’d taken off his shirt

Tramping in the Hunter Mountains

“Will we get screwed by that river?” – Tracy
“We could get screwed by anything, it’s an off-track trip!” – Madelaine

That was the point at which I fully understood what an off track trip in New Zealand really meant. My friend Madelaine and I took a map and compass with a bit of a plan and wandered off into the Hunter Mountains for 4 days. Our original plan was quickly deemed impossible due to time constraints and ridiculously steep cliffs and so we consulted the map for a different route. We decided to descend into the valley we were up above, cross it on the far side over a mountain pass and hope we could get down the other side into the next valley called Middlebranch. Our gear included a tracking device given to us by Madelaine’s boyfriend David who works for a company that does satellite tracking. If anything went horribly wrong we could send a distress signal and he could pinpoint where we were. We figured at that point he must have been wondering where the heck we were going as we drastically changed our original hiking plans. Once we descended into Middlebranch (using our ice axes to get down the almost vertical terrain covered in tussock bushes at times) we looked back up the valley wall and realized that the route we had taken down was the only possible one and had we gone anywhere else we would have gotten completely stuck. So basically we got really lucky.

The next day involved a 1000m trek up through beech forest. I was super happy when we finally cleared the beech forest and hit scrub at the top of the ridge until I realized it was the worst scrub we had seen as it was taller than us and super thick. Getting to the top of the ridge was definitely bush bashing with an emphasis on the bashing. But the top of the ridge was beautiful with new views of the next valley within which was the Borland hut. We descended into that valley following deer trails (I have discovered a new love of deer trails) until we reached a particularly well defined deer trail, which Madelaine pointed out to me was the walking track we had been looking for! After a joyous celebration of chocolate bars we made our way to a hut for that night.

The next day we walked out along the track, where we definitely enjoyed the lack of bush and obvious walking track. Five hours later we reached the road where our joy was short lived as we started the 9km trek back up the road to retrieve our car. At this point I started questioning whether it was a good idea to get the car that evening but Madelaine pointed out to me that if we stopped walking we were going to be eaten alive by sand flies by saying “do you prefer death by sand flies or death by sore feet?” I chose death by sore feet. Or at least pain by sore feet as the lesser of the two evils.

All in all it was a fabulous trip, and I learned a ton about reading topographical maps and making decisions on off track trips. Madelaine’s comment at the end though that she was “surprised all of her assumptions had actually worked out” emphasized for me again the hidden dangers of off track trips, where you never really know what you’re going to come up against. I’m really looking forward to more New Zealand tramping trips, both on and off track!

As a final hurrah to our trip on the way back to Dunedin we saw a sign for limestone caves and decided to go exploring. Turns out the caves were 300m long and full of neat formations. Although we didn’t take the map seriously when part of the trail marked a “swimming pool” assuming it would be passable. Turns out it was a dark abyss of a hole in the cave and definitely only passable by swimming! So we had to turn around to get back out into daylight.

Oh, and a short side note for my other friends who have been to New Zealand, I tried meat pies and they were actually good. Contrary to my beliefs.

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NZ dictionary update:
convenience store = a dairy
“apricots for africa” = common phrase to mean “I have a lot of apricots”