So apparently the weather can't be perfect all the time... especially in new Zealand. In the week I have been here, I have yet to do anything but touch some soggy start holds in Paynes Ford. The climber camp, Hangdog campground, is deserted, except for one American who has taken permanent residence there. The only problem, besides the unrelenting rain (aka soggy rock), is his full time kiwi fruit job. Well, at least I tried. I mean, I have had an amzing run of good weather in this country, so I can't be too bummed. I know if I didn't try, I would have always wondered.
Due to the rain, I thought, what the hell, let's go tramping! I decided on tramping through the Kaharangi national Park, getting up in the subalpine zones and hopefully seeing some more snow. day one I headed to Balloon Hut. After 6 hours of a soggy uphill trudge, I made it to snow line. The estimated time to the close hut, 30 minutes, Balloon Hut: 1 1/2 hours. Here I made the mistake of going for it. The hour journey turned to a 2 1/2 snowy trudge in blizzard conditions. Every so often the wind would knock me down as I struggled up a running creek, sloshing, slipping and sliding in my now soaked through boots. Soon, it was almost 5 o clock, and I was at my limit, both physically and mentally. The only other time I had been pushed to my limit was the ride to Sanata Barabara, a 125 mile cycling adventure. here, my pack weighed me down, the wind pushed me down. I was left to pleading with the storm to just hold off a bit longer. Please Please Please....
it was the first time in my life I realaized I would be in major trouble. I probably would have survived even if a whiteout occurres.... I could have taken refuge in the trees and bundled till morning, hoping for the best. At my last bit of strength, I finally made it to the hut. My clothes were soaked through and I was alone. Thank god the heater was gas, meaning I didnt have to worry about building a fire. Either way, I learned alot about myself.
For one, I learned that I always seem to get myself into these situations. I come out fine, often happy with the experience, but I am learning that I could get into some bad situations. I relaized then and there how much I misssed home. Missed the warmth of summer, the sunshine, friends and family. I have been in this country for so long now alone.... i have made friends along the way, but I am ready for a place to call my own. A plce where I can settle... at least for a bit. A homebase if you will.
Day two started with an expectation of struggle. The snow had not ceased all night, and I was now off to trudge down hillm, across windy tundra for 2 hours in thigh deep snow. The tough thing was every 3rd step I would break through the top layer of ice, making the going slow and... well like a drunk doing plyometric excercises. I eventually made it to the next hut, opting to continue lower to upper Gridiron Hut. This was a small little shelter tucked under a large boulder, complete with a swing chair (patio style) and small wood burning oven. Relaxation.
Day three led me up to Cobb Reservior and back again up to snow level. This time, a had bootprints to follow. First thoughts: yay people! Well, not the case. It was a class of 25, all camping in the snow covered trees with the instructors inside with me. These good for nothing SOB's loved wearing snow covered boots in the hut (a commonly known "no-no" on hut etiquette) leaving the floor saoking wet. Then, these guys went to bed at 7 pm, leaving me alone and awake, but this time having to mind my noise level. A night of poor sleep led to me wanting to get back to civilization the next day.
It was a snow trudge to 5 hours of slush storm walking along a road. This led me to a powerhouse where the workers gave me a ride back to town at 5. I was broken at this point. All i could think about was summer, warmth, and being dry. I am over winter, over slush, and over constantly wet feet and boots. My once epic tramping boots are now separating from the sole on all sides... they actually draw in water now I am sure, hydrophobic to hydrophillic ha!
So now I am opting to wwoof for a bit here. On july 19th i fly to auckland. My plan was to spend two weeks exploring the beaches up that direction, but i realaized its not worth it. I mean, i mistook this beach adventure time for my true desire... but its not the beaches i want, its a summer I want. Really, the only thing I crave is summer, not some winter beach camping shenanigans. So I sit, waiting to return home.
I want mexican food, good tequilla, and a nice rum and coke. Ideal first meal: 2 shots patron, 1 corona, fish tacos. mmmmmmmmm.......
But i am here, and so here I will stay, trying to be as happy as possible in the meantime.
Casualties from my backpacking trip:
1 singed down jacket sleeve
1 partially melted plastic cooking pot lid
1 partially burned sock
1 slightly melted left boot side
(the latter three were from heating ovens, the first from lighting a stove) Man it was a rough few days :)
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