9 March 2018

Abel Tasman 1

‘Liberty, friend Sancho, is one of the choicest gifts that heaven hath bestowed upon man, and exceeds in value all the treasures which the earth contains within its bosom, or the sea covers. Liberty, as well as honor, man ought to preserve at the hazard of his life; for without it life is insupportable.’

Abel Tasman 2

Spent Sunday afternoon and Monday in Nelson, then took the shuttle to Abel Tasman on Tuesday morning and started hiking along the coast in beautiful weather. Camped at Torrent Bay, then continued to Awaroa Wednesday under cloudy skies with a warm drizzle. Finished hiking early Thursday morning under sunny skies at Totaranui and caught the water taxi back to Marahau. A wonderful coastal hike, although the final section to Wainui is closed due to damage from the recent cyclone.

I’ve done a lot of walking the last few years, and my hiking gear (shoes, backpack, etc.) is wearing out. I, however, feel better than I’ve ever felt in every way. To be alive and at liberty to do what brings one joy is indeed one of the choicest gifts.

Tomorrow I fly to Wellington, and Sunday I take the Northern Explorer (train) to Auckland.

4 March 2018

After a weekend in Christchurch I’ve had to revise my baseline expectations of the damage an earthquake can do. I recently read a book on behavioral economics and decision making, ‘Thinking, Fast and Slow’ , which posits that we set our expectations of worst case scenarios based on our personal experience and have difficulty truly moving beyond that even when data shows things could be worse. My baseline for earthquake damage has always been the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. The damage from the 2011 Christchurch earthquake is much worse. Even 7 years later the devastation is quite visible – empty lots and damaged buildings everywhere. What’s amazing is that even quite modern buildings were severely damaged and are uninhabitable. Does this mean I’m ready to buy earthquake insurance? No, but I may add a couple more days supply to my emergency rations.

But there is always a sense after the ground moves that not only is everything going to be alright, but there is an opportunity for a new beginning, to make everything even better, to rise from the rubble to new glories. Even 7 years later that feeling is palpable in Christchurch. Why does it take an event to trigger this sense in most of us, especially collectively? As the ancient meditation says, every in breath is a rebirth, an opportunity.

I’m off to Nelson to see what possibilities are there.

28 February 2018

Rented a car for a couple of days and drove to the West Coast and Glacier Country.

The glaciers are quite different from those in Iceland. One walks up to them through tropical rain forest in flip flops.

The only access to the tops of the glaciers is by helicopter, and they weren’t flying due to poor weather.

The West Coast has beautiful beaches, cold water, and lots of rain.

Tomorrow (1 March) I’m flying to Christchurch for a few days.

24 February 2018

I spent Thursday 22 February wandering around Auckland, then flew to Queenstown on the South Island Friday morning. Queenstown is a tourist town, similar to North Lake Tahoe, with skiing in the winter, adventure sports in the summer, and severe traffic problems all year. I was glad to get out of there this morning and begin hiking the Routeburn Track.

It begins in the flats and winds through beautiful Beech forest along a stream. Moss and ferns cover the ground, and bright green lichen grows on many of the ancient trees. As the route begins to climb there are numerous waterfalls.

Today was a beautiful day, but a severe gale (120kph winds) and heavy rain are forecast for tomorrow and they may close the track.

25 February

As usual the weather forecast was worse than the actual weather – the winds were just 110kph and there was 10 inches of rain, not 12. I left the Routeburn Falls Hut with Peter from Wellington and Amy from Sydney just before 8am. We wanted to be gone before they decided whether to close the track or not (it did remain open).

It was a wet and windy climb up to the Harris Saddle (about 2000 ft elevation gain) where we stopped briefly at the shelter to warm up.Once we left the shelter and walked along the ridge the winds were ferocious. The track is above the treeline until just before the the next hut so there is nothing to break the wind, and when traversing around exposed outcroppings one had to brace or grab on to something to keep from being blown off the edge of the track by strong wind gusts. But it wasn’t horrible, and we all agreed it was an invigorating hike.

We were the first to arrive at the MacKenzie Hut at 11:30. Peter decided to continue on to the next hut. We started a fire in the wood stove and soon more hikers started straggling in, progressively wetter and more bedraggled as the afternoon wore on. By late afternoon there were wet boots and clothes strewn everywhere. It was commonly agreed that there is no such thing as a waterproof boot.

I’ve been reading a book about swimming, The Haunts of the Black Masseur, which led to a conversation about Goethe (an avid swimmer), and then the parable of the tortoise and the hare. Yesterday several people were running or walking across the track in one day – it’s only 20 miles. We backpackers with our heavy loads take three days. The person I was talking with had the unique perspective that we were like the tortoise in that we were trying to carry our home on our back, while the trail runners carried nothing, like the hare. I don’t think I’m really meant to be a tortoise.

An American who had walked in from the other direction told us he had waded through a raging stream up to his waist and practically swept to his death. An Australian sitting nearby said she’d walked through the same stream at about the same time and barely got her feet wet. We Americans are really getting a bad reputation as drama queens.

26 February

We left around 8am. It was a glorious day and the payoff for the weather the previous day was incredible waterfalls all along the track.

We reached the end of the track by 11. My shuttle wasn’t scheduled until 3pm. I got to talking with this guy who shuttles cars between the two ends of the track for hikers. If he only has one car to shuttle he runs back across the track to pick up his car, which takes him about 5 hours. He offered to give me a ride to Te Anau. As we pulled out of the parking lot there were two hitchhikers who turned out to be these German doctors I’d met the night before, so he gave them a ride as well. Later in the evening I ran into the German doctors again in Te Anau and they told me they were camping in the backyard of the hostel. I can’t visualize my doctor doing this. I need a new doctor.