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New Zealand's Routeburn Track Great Walk: We Burned a Route on the Routeburn

April 6, 2015

“I keep wondering if I really like tramping… The cold and the loneliness and the fear- do they outweigh the magnificence, the terrible impersonal glory of the mountains?” – Charles Brasch, posted in Routeburn Falls Hut, Routeburn Great Walk, New Zealand

We walked the same steps, on the same trail, up and down the same mountain two days in a row. Yep, that’s right. The same 12 km’s up and the same 12 km’s down one day after another. We burned our route on the Routeburn. We knew we were crazy.

"Why’d you do it?" you ask.

The first day was a grey morning with the clouds hanging low and flat. We hoped the haze was just morning fog that would burn off. We were wrong. Those suckers hung on all day without budging. Every now and then along our 12 km climb, a wind would part the clouds and we were able to have a peek at the crests of the mountains that were hiding. My heart ached to be able to see the landscape we were amongst. We knew monstrous mountains surrounded us and we were missing out on seeing their glory!

Our destination for the day was Harris Saddle where we heard we would see a stunning range of mountains with glaciers hanging amongst the peaks. I was hoping, believing that God would part the sea of clouds for us just to see for a moment. He’s done it before! In reality, the moment of reaching the saddle was a huge letdown. The clouds were still looming and concealing what we had heard was the grand view. Only seeing more clouds, we turned back to head down the mountain.

We had to traverse the cliffs of Harris Lake again. We had been alone for a while, now. There were few souls tramping the trail with the poor weather. They had the right idea. Turning back with new eyes, I found Harris Lake to be spectacular in the mist with the clouds wrapped amongst the golden, alpine bases of the mountain walls. It was a mystical landscape. Alone, this spot was ours. We breathed the scene in. I secretly wanted to be in this place again. It was glorious!

An hour into our hike that morning, on our way up, I warned Adam, “If tomorrow’s a clear day, I’m doing this again.” We had hiked from 10 am to 7:30 pm the first day. The initial five hours were all up hill, sweating and clenching our cheeks to get us up and save our calves from exhaustion. The way down was really all down hill. We snagged walking sticks from the forest floor to save our knees. They were over worked as our brakes on the steep decline.

Low and behold, the next morning we woke up to a brand spankin’ new day totally opposite than the day before with an absolute clear sky. Well, dang. We picked the wrong day for our first ascent. My soul ached to see the mountaintops I knew were there. We could see them today without the clouds! My body wasn’t in unison, though. I didn’t want to battle that climb and descent all over again. Adam and I were pretty quiet that morning both independently battling the same inner struggle. Do it again? Or not? Adam finally muttered from the back of the van, “I think you could talk me into doing it again.” With those words, I knew I was in. Knowing Adam’s focus on efficiency, he was struggling with the idea to do the same hike again as anyone would. We already did it! I worked my best persuasive argument. “This would be an entirely different hike than the day before. We would actually be able to see the mountains!” Well, my nonsense worked and we started up the mountain again to complete the exact same hike.

My argument didn’t reign true. An hour into our hike, the clouds rolled in again, but this time it started raining. We continually second guessed ourselves. However, the clouds were high enough that we could see the mountaintops, our new view for the day, so we kept trekking up and up.

My secret wish came true as we traversed Harris Lake again to get to our destination, Harris Saddle.

As we rounded the last bit of the lake, I caught a glimpse of the anticipated grand view we had worked so hard for. I saw a tiny bit of clinging snow on a black, jagged mountain and a blue sky as the backdrop! A blue sky! The mountaintops! We can see! I started yelping and running. I was so excited and couldn’t get to the saddle fast enough! The view was a true gift! To have worked so hard to see this view with disappointment the day before and to do the same hike without the guarantee of seeing it again, oh, it was a Christmas morning experience! What a gift to see such a stunning view.

We scurried up Conical Hill to get a grander view while we had a chance with the clouds at bay.

Our second day, we hiked til 8:30 pm and got into camp near dark, but on such a high.

The gifts of the day didn’t end at Conical Hill, though. Debriefing in the van after a rushed dinner, we were silent. Adam was looking out into the sky and saw curious vertical bands of white light forming like the laser beams of spotlights shooting into the sky in the cities. But, we were in the wilderness at the end of the road at the base of the mountains. It couldn’t be those brilliant spotlights. We sat there watching as the sky transformed and a band of red and fucsia began to grow. We jumped out of Bernie giddy and dancing. We were seeing the southern lights!

To answer the question posed in the quote found in Routeburn Falls Hut, the magnificence and glory of the mountains mightily outweigh the pains and exhaustion that accessing the beauty brings.

Keep on tramping, ya’ll! We’ll be out there with you!

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Sheep Shearing in New Zealand: Ewe Need a Haircut?

March 24, 2015

Surprisingly, our sheep farming days weren't entirely over yet!

We had missed an opportunity to shear sheep and be shed hands during our first go 'round in Invercargill, New Zealand when we were captured at the launderette. So, we jumped at the invitation to be shed hands during a shearing at Gay and Ron's farm, Manuka Mire. Once we received her text, away we flew to Invercargill to get our hands in that wool again! As we were making our way to the farm riding down the familiar country roads we both looked at each other. It hit us at the same time. An overwhelming sense of comfort had over taken us. Warm and fuzzy memories of wooly ewes, overalls, gum boots, green paddocks, home made jelly and mince pies all started flooding back. We were pumped to be heading to the farm again!

Fulfilling our role as shed hands was quite an adventure. Can't say we have helped give a sheep a hair cut before! We were all smiles all day (probably from Gay's wonderful hospitality of keeping us loaded on hot tea and delicious biscuits)!

The ewes ready to go in the wee morning hours.

Robbie and Matt prepping their shearing gear in the wool shed.

Callie the sheep dog is ready to go, too!

7:20 am start right on time. Not a second late!

These two aren't so excited and are eager to escape their naked fate. Adam and I both had our fair share of tackling some of the ewes to keep them inline.

We were the shed hands. Sweeping up the wool as it was sheared off the sheep.

Working hard, the guys sheared over 350 sheep and did each one in less than three minutes!

Two minute break! These shearers are strict on time. Still loving this #nuventures!

Ron, the farmer, shoving the wool into the press. Got 5 bails of wool from the shearing!

When the day was done, I requested they shear Adam, but I guess they thought I was joking. I wasn't...

Now the girls are naked. Ladies, modesty, please!

Rounding 'em up to go into a new paddock.

Gay leading us through her farm she calls Manuka Mire.

Gay showing us the lookout they built to see all the ducks in their lake.

Of course can't leave out these girls. The curious cows on Manuka Mire.

Loved being a part of Manuka Mire's shearing! Who knows, maybe more sheep to come in our future:) Now on to some Fiordland nuventures!

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New Zealand's Lake Waikaremoana Great Walk: A #nuventures Tramping Tale

March 23, 2015

NOTICE: The following words must be read in your best Scottish accent.

Now, let’s begin.

Once upon a time in a far away land, there was a little bearded lad. His name was Adam. Now, little lad Adam fell deeply in love and married a lovely princess. Her name was Lindsey. Oh, little lad Adam adored Princess Lindsey and her long brunette locks and Lindsey loved Adam and his burly beard just the same.

It gave them great joy to walk and talk and dream together hand in hand in the forests beneath the canopy of the beech trees. They loved listening to the songs of the birds and to be enclosed in the symphony of the chirping crickets. Little lad Adam and Princess Lindsey even lived in a little old van by the river.

One day they decided to walk around the grand Lake Waikaremoana, known across the land as a Great Walk.

Now, Great Walks were known to be long, distant tramps in faraway lands not for the faint at heart. The great walks lead trampers through beautiful and epic forests, up into the alpine and over mountains, along great rivers and around grand, majestic lakes. These walks and lands are to be respected by all who journey on their paths. The treks are known to be grueling, difficult and even treacherous. Hand in hand, the two were up for the great challenge.

Now, little lad Adam was strong and ripped with burling muscles from head to toe and was known far and wide as the most adventurous lad in the land. For Lindsey, although she was a princess, she was known to sneek on her hiking boots under her gowns and much preferred them to her royal slippers. With the wind to their backs, the two filled their sacks with provisions and strapped on their packs for their several day adventure. Off they went skipping into the forest singing tra-la-la-la!

STOP! Stop! The fairy tale, the accent, it all must end here!

We hiked until our feet were begging to fall off each night. We were tired. We were cranky. We had blisters on top of blisters forming. Thankfully, each bend of the trail brought new spectacular views of Lake Waikaremoana and the surrounding forests. The views were worth every bit of trauma to our feet.

The ugly ducklings settled here. There were tons of black swans!

Exhausted by the final night. Collapsed on the front porch at the hut.

The final morning. Looking forward to crossing this sucker soon!

Once the 46 kilometers were complete, we found our stashed kayak in the bush, blew her up and headed down the stream into the lake to get back to our campervan, Bernie.

It felt like we were back in college being forced to fulfill a torturous team building experiment. We stuffed ourselves and our huge packs into our puny kayak with knees to chins expecting ourselves to paddle across this monstrous lake. The first thirty minutes were fun, adventurous, stunningly beautiful and just lovely.

Then came the next hour of half smiles, beginning to sweat and trying to stay positive. We weren’t even into the main part of the lake, yet.

The next hour was full of desperate searching for the lake’s current (do lakes even have a current?), more resting than rowing, and constantly praying the wind would just blow us to the other side. The phase of complaining and hopeless heads down had begun. It didn't help that the cheap aluminum paddles kept breaking off into the water so we were constantly back tracking and doing circles to rescue them. Adam started having a silent melt down in the back of the boat.

We just were not getting any closer to the shore. We were stuck, (groan), in the same spot, (grunt), of the lake, (whine), and just couldn’t, (wimper), get any closer (sniffle) to land. (blubbering)

This was our view forever. We just couldn't get there!

Adam pulled himself together and led us through our final thirty minutes. Survivor mode, ya’ll. We dug deep and mustered up courage to get to the other side with our new regiment: 20/10’s. Twenty rows and a ten second break, twenty rows, ten second break, twenty rows, ten second break. Count with us now! 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…

YAHOOO!!!

We crossed the huge bugger of a lake in our record time of 3 hours with tears in our eyes, exhausted shoulder muscles and new rippling biceps!

What a mountain top moment! We were on land again!

So happy and relieved to be on the other side!

Now, the adventure wasn’t over just yet. Princess Lindsey had held her composure through the entire three day journey. Until, it came to her battle with the solar camping shower in the car park. The blasted bugger of a daggum bag with a cheap plastic hose got the best of her. Princess Lindsey fulfilled her role perfectly. Every fairy tale’s princess is entitled to her temper tantrum.

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New Zealand's Tongariro Alpine Crossing: A #nuventures Tramping Tale

March 13, 2015

Here it is! Our tramping tale of the Tongariro Alpine Crossing amongst the volcanic giants in Tongariro National Park, New Zealand.

We never imagined to encounter this deeply dry, volcanic and sulphuric landscape in New Zealand. We always think of majestic mountains with beautiful views of the water, streams and oceans beneath. This was a new view of the country!

The Crossing spans the length of the active volcano Mount Tongariro and runs next to another active cone Mount Ngauruhoe, famously known as Mount Doom from Lord of the Rings. It's pretty intimidating in person, too!

In all honesty, the day was bizarre! We felt like we were in lines at Disney World or Ikea, only on a volcano. The hike was a slow, single file line of thousands of trampers navigating the Crossing one after another. We were a tiny pair in what seemed like four thousand. We had to stay strategic, though, to remain ahead of hundreds of teenage girls on their adventure camp's culminating trip. Ah! It was a hilariously different hiking in nature experience with the girls' blasting speakers following us for the climb. " Too hot... too hot...'Cause Uptown Funk gon' give it to you. Saturday night and we in the spot. Don't believe me just watch!" Ow!