Okay, I think I made the glacier walk sound awful because I only highlighted the scary part. In fact, aside from that last hour, the glacier walk was incredible. And fun. The ice is beautiful. And it was awe-inspiring to think how small I am in comparison to the enormity of the glacier. The weather was perfect. Not too cold or windy. And although it rains about 180 days per year in the area, the skies were perfectly clear for us. I'm really glad that we did it.
For the Milford Sound kayaking trip, we may not get such good weather. Milford Sound gets about 7 meters of rain per year (that's 0.75" per day, if you averaged it over 365 days). However, if it does rain, apparently you get lots of beautiful waterfalls flowing down the fiords*. I'm glad that Josie bought that expensive waterproof case for her digital camera. We have only used it a few times, but it's totally worth it. You'll see those photos here!
*In New Zealand, they spell it "fiords."
Friday, June 26, 2009
Fox Glacier
Josie and I have been in the ski-bum town of Queenstown for the past couple of days. We had only meant to spend one day here, but I decided that I want to run the Winterfest 10k on Saturday morning. The weather forecast is cold.
There are lots of thrilling, expensive activities in Queenstown. Skiing, of course, as well as bungy jumping, jetboating, paragliding, skydiving, etc. Josie and I chose to play frisbee golf instead. We got all the thrill we needed last weekend when we hiked on Fox Glacier.
Fox Glacier is on the west coast of the South Island, and is the third-longest glacier in New Zealand. It's hard to appreciate how large it is just by looking at a picture. It stretches 13 km from top to bottom. Most of the glacier is permanently shadowed by the surrounding mountains.
We went with a tour group. Our guide was a young Australian named Deane. There were six others in our group. We had to walk up a trail through the woods to actually get to the access point to the glacier. It took about an hour and a half. Once on the ice, there were paths and nice stairways cut into the ice with chainsaws. I thought that was great. Some of the steeper stairs had ropes.
Deane took us first to the lower portion of the glacier. Here there were no carved steps. There was an obvious path where other groups had traveled before us. We got to climb through an ice tunnel and even had to squeeze through a narrow crevasse. I thought I just barely managed to wriggle through it.
We stopped for a nice lunch around 1. Deane had brought hot cocoa in a thermos. It was pleasant.
After lunch we headed up toward the top of the glacier. Not surprisingly, the climb up was tougher than the climb down. As I got more and more tired, I found it difficult to concentrate on correct stomping technique to properly dig the spikes of my crampons into the ice. Then my left crampon fell off. I got it back on with help. Deane decided that instead of sticking to the already-tramped path, we were going to forge a new path.
To bring a group to an untravelled portion of the glacier, the guide must first choose an appropriate path. If necessary, the guide must take an axe to the ice to create stairs up or down the steep ice slopes. Once the guide has chosen a path, you really have no choice but to follow, no matter how dangerous it looks. No matter if your crampon falls off again. Even if the guide decides to lead the group on a particular slope so perilous that he has to lead each person in the group through the path one-by-one. Bend your knees as you're walking down a steep traverse and trust the crampons (even the one that fell off twice) to hold your weight.
I did weigh my options. If you break your leg on the ice, you get a helicopter ride back. However, I wasn't confident that I could successfully break a leg without also falling to my doom into one of the deep crevasses that awaited us at the bottom of each slope.
As Deane helped me with my crampon the second time it fell off, I asked how much longer it would be before we got back to the glacier entrance. He said we had maybe 10 minutes more on the ice. An hour later, Deane was walking far ahead of us, trying to figure out how to get us back, while we loitered around on a safe-ish plateau. He came back and told us, encouragingly, that he saw the other group and that the end was just beyond the next peak. By this time all I could think of was getting back to the hostel and opening a bottle of shiraz.
We did eventually get off the ice. It was the most excited I'd ever been to step into muddy dirt. Although I had feared for my knees and ankles while on the glacier, I managed not to twist or sprain anything.
So that was my extreme sport adventure. I don't feel the need to do any death-defying activities like bungy jumping. Not that I ever did. In a couple of days Josie and I are going to go sea kayaking in Milford Sound with a tour group, instead of taking a cruise boat like normal people do. I'm going to let the guide know that I'd prefer that he just stick to the company-approved route.
There are lots of thrilling, expensive activities in Queenstown. Skiing, of course, as well as bungy jumping, jetboating, paragliding, skydiving, etc. Josie and I chose to play frisbee golf instead. We got all the thrill we needed last weekend when we hiked on Fox Glacier.
 |
| From Fox Glacier |
Fox Glacier is on the west coast of the South Island, and is the third-longest glacier in New Zealand. It's hard to appreciate how large it is just by looking at a picture. It stretches 13 km from top to bottom. Most of the glacier is permanently shadowed by the surrounding mountains.
We went with a tour group. Our guide was a young Australian named Deane. There were six others in our group. We had to walk up a trail through the woods to actually get to the access point to the glacier. It took about an hour and a half. Once on the ice, there were paths and nice stairways cut into the ice with chainsaws. I thought that was great. Some of the steeper stairs had ropes.
 |
| From Fox Glacier |
Deane took us first to the lower portion of the glacier. Here there were no carved steps. There was an obvious path where other groups had traveled before us. We got to climb through an ice tunnel and even had to squeeze through a narrow crevasse. I thought I just barely managed to wriggle through it.
 |
| From Fox Glacier |
We stopped for a nice lunch around 1. Deane had brought hot cocoa in a thermos. It was pleasant.
After lunch we headed up toward the top of the glacier. Not surprisingly, the climb up was tougher than the climb down. As I got more and more tired, I found it difficult to concentrate on correct stomping technique to properly dig the spikes of my crampons into the ice. Then my left crampon fell off. I got it back on with help. Deane decided that instead of sticking to the already-tramped path, we were going to forge a new path.
 |
| From Fox Glacier |
To bring a group to an untravelled portion of the glacier, the guide must first choose an appropriate path. If necessary, the guide must take an axe to the ice to create stairs up or down the steep ice slopes. Once the guide has chosen a path, you really have no choice but to follow, no matter how dangerous it looks. No matter if your crampon falls off again. Even if the guide decides to lead the group on a particular slope so perilous that he has to lead each person in the group through the path one-by-one. Bend your knees as you're walking down a steep traverse and trust the crampons (even the one that fell off twice) to hold your weight.
 |
| From Fox Glacier |
I did weigh my options. If you break your leg on the ice, you get a helicopter ride back. However, I wasn't confident that I could successfully break a leg without also falling to my doom into one of the deep crevasses that awaited us at the bottom of each slope.
As Deane helped me with my crampon the second time it fell off, I asked how much longer it would be before we got back to the glacier entrance. He said we had maybe 10 minutes more on the ice. An hour later, Deane was walking far ahead of us, trying to figure out how to get us back, while we loitered around on a safe-ish plateau. He came back and told us, encouragingly, that he saw the other group and that the end was just beyond the next peak. By this time all I could think of was getting back to the hostel and opening a bottle of shiraz.
We did eventually get off the ice. It was the most excited I'd ever been to step into muddy dirt. Although I had feared for my knees and ankles while on the glacier, I managed not to twist or sprain anything.
So that was my extreme sport adventure. I don't feel the need to do any death-defying activities like bungy jumping. Not that I ever did. In a couple of days Josie and I are going to go sea kayaking in Milford Sound with a tour group, instead of taking a cruise boat like normal people do. I'm going to let the guide know that I'd prefer that he just stick to the company-approved route.
 |
| From Fox Glacier |
Sunday, June 21, 2009
The South Island
Josie and I have been busy lately. We spent nearly a week without internet access when we went to Abel Tasman National Park. The weather was beautiful, and we didn't run into too many problems aside from a lost flashlight and lost car keys (we got them back after we got a locksmith to make some new ones.
The Abel Tasman hiking trip came about because of this abiding principle: I do not camp. I don't sleep on the ground. I do not recognize a hole in the ground as being a toilet. And I don't want any forest creatures to be disturbing me or my stuff in the middle of the night.
I do however like to hike. And I don't mind carrying a big backpack full of crap I need to live. And I actually find camp cooking to be enjoyable. Going without showering for a few days is... well, not that big a deal.
The New Zealand Department of Conservation has this to say about Abel Tasman:
The Abel Tasman Coast Track, located in Abel Tasman National Park on South Island's northern shores, is one of the DOC Great Walks. The Coast Track extends for 52 km and is classified as a walking track: all streams are bridged but there are tidal crossings, which can only be crossed within a few hours either side of low tide. The track takes an average of three to five days to complete. There are huts and campsites where you can stay for a fee.
By "hut" they mean cabin. No electricity or kitchen, but they have bunks and a common room where you can cook on a camp stove. There is potable running water. And real toilets that flush. They even have showers, if you can call freezing cold water coming out of an overhead pipe behind a bush a "shower." So it's not camping. It's actually much more like camp, but without camp counselors or lanyard weaving.
Additionally, New Zealand does not have any large predators. Which means no bears. That's key. One run-in with a bear that chases you out of your campsite is enough for a lifetime.
So Josie and I decided to go for it. The trip almost got canceled due to rain, but as the date approached, the weather report got better, and we decided to chance it.
Here are the pictures.
The Abel Tasman hiking trip came about because of this abiding principle: I do not camp. I don't sleep on the ground. I do not recognize a hole in the ground as being a toilet. And I don't want any forest creatures to be disturbing me or my stuff in the middle of the night.
I do however like to hike. And I don't mind carrying a big backpack full of crap I need to live. And I actually find camp cooking to be enjoyable. Going without showering for a few days is... well, not that big a deal.
The New Zealand Department of Conservation has this to say about Abel Tasman:
The Abel Tasman Coast Track, located in Abel Tasman National Park on South Island's northern shores, is one of the DOC Great Walks. The Coast Track extends for 52 km and is classified as a walking track: all streams are bridged but there are tidal crossings, which can only be crossed within a few hours either side of low tide. The track takes an average of three to five days to complete. There are huts and campsites where you can stay for a fee.
By "hut" they mean cabin. No electricity or kitchen, but they have bunks and a common room where you can cook on a camp stove. There is potable running water. And real toilets that flush. They even have showers, if you can call freezing cold water coming out of an overhead pipe behind a bush a "shower." So it's not camping. It's actually much more like camp, but without camp counselors or lanyard weaving.
Additionally, New Zealand does not have any large predators. Which means no bears. That's key. One run-in with a bear that chases you out of your campsite is enough for a lifetime.
So Josie and I decided to go for it. The trip almost got canceled due to rain, but as the date approached, the weather report got better, and we decided to chance it.
Here are the pictures.
Monday, June 8, 2009
More pictures
Here are pictures from Wellington, the Interislander ferry, and Picton/Marlborough region.
Internet catch-up day
Here are a bunch of pictures from the past week. From us, to you. I learned a new trick in Picasa. Here's a web slide show!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
What's up?/The North Island
Josie claims that everyone wants to see pictures, and nobody wants to read my ramblings. I disagree. I don't have any pictures right now. There are pictures, they're just not on my computer. I'm in the kitchen of the Peppertree Hostel in Palmerston North, and I'm watching Josie make cookies.
I guess the last time I posted was last week? Since then, Josie and I visited the Coromandel Peninsula, where we stayed at a hostel overlooking the beach. We borrowed kayaks and went on a 3-hour sea kayaking trip (just by ourselves). I fell out of the kayak when I was riding a wave into shore. I came out laughing though.
We went to the town of Coromandel and visited a silly little tourist attraction, the Driving Creek Railroad. An eccentric artist/potter created this small-scale railroad track up a mountain, and they charge $20 a person for the one-hour tour. We went up a mountain and then back down in a little train. It was adorable and touristy.
On Monday and Tuesday we did a farmstay with a family in a little rural town. Don and Davina live on a 2-acre hobby farm with their three young children, an adult child, and another older child that pops in and out from time to time (much like I do with my Mom and Dad). They have several sheep, some "chooks" (chickens), and a baby cow. They were absolutely wonderful. I wish we could have stayed longer. We spent the time doing some chores (stacking firewood and raking leaves), walking a little trail near their house, as well as reading probably a dozen books to Dallas, Martin and Chance (um, 5, 6, and 3, I think?). Jos and I are disappointed that we didn't take pictures. I completely forgot to though. It was the first time since I've come to NZ that I didn't feel like a tourist.
This afternoon, while on our way to the hostel, we stopped at a wool outlet and purchased some yarn that's made from 70% merino wool and 30% possum fur. That's right, possum fur. Not Opossum, just possum. It's a non-native species of marsupial that you see all over the place on the side of the highway. As roadkill. Apparently their fur is very warm. It's certainly novel. I got a couple of different colors. Somebody is getting possum mittens for Christmas!
Jos and I are on our way to Wellington. We'll be there tomorrow sometime in the afternoon. We're going to go to some museums, and visit the Wellington Zoo, and probably try to find some night life. We'll be there over the weekend, after all. On Monday morning we're going to cross to the South Island by ferry.
Okay, not very exciting to read the blog without pictures, I guess. But they'll be up soon.
I guess the last time I posted was last week? Since then, Josie and I visited the Coromandel Peninsula, where we stayed at a hostel overlooking the beach. We borrowed kayaks and went on a 3-hour sea kayaking trip (just by ourselves). I fell out of the kayak when I was riding a wave into shore. I came out laughing though.
We went to the town of Coromandel and visited a silly little tourist attraction, the Driving Creek Railroad. An eccentric artist/potter created this small-scale railroad track up a mountain, and they charge $20 a person for the one-hour tour. We went up a mountain and then back down in a little train. It was adorable and touristy.
On Monday and Tuesday we did a farmstay with a family in a little rural town. Don and Davina live on a 2-acre hobby farm with their three young children, an adult child, and another older child that pops in and out from time to time (much like I do with my Mom and Dad). They have several sheep, some "chooks" (chickens), and a baby cow. They were absolutely wonderful. I wish we could have stayed longer. We spent the time doing some chores (stacking firewood and raking leaves), walking a little trail near their house, as well as reading probably a dozen books to Dallas, Martin and Chance (um, 5, 6, and 3, I think?). Jos and I are disappointed that we didn't take pictures. I completely forgot to though. It was the first time since I've come to NZ that I didn't feel like a tourist.
This afternoon, while on our way to the hostel, we stopped at a wool outlet and purchased some yarn that's made from 70% merino wool and 30% possum fur. That's right, possum fur. Not Opossum, just possum. It's a non-native species of marsupial that you see all over the place on the side of the highway. As roadkill. Apparently their fur is very warm. It's certainly novel. I got a couple of different colors. Somebody is getting possum mittens for Christmas!
Jos and I are on our way to Wellington. We'll be there tomorrow sometime in the afternoon. We're going to go to some museums, and visit the Wellington Zoo, and probably try to find some night life. We'll be there over the weekend, after all. On Monday morning we're going to cross to the South Island by ferry.
Okay, not very exciting to read the blog without pictures, I guess. But they'll be up soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)