Survival of the Fittest. Our first FHINZ experience.

"Don’t look Brent”, exclaimed Mr. McLay.

“It’s too late.” Brent was already watching and unfortunately saw the worst of it.

Mr. McLay was lambing a sheep. The lamb, unfortunately, was already dead. But this one decided to come out of the sheep in two pieces. And it wasn’t an easy birthing either, not to mention the fact that the ewe wasn’t even participating in the birth of her own offspring. It was a tough job, which required string and incredible strength to pull the lamb out of the mother. After the first half of the lamb came out, his job became much more intense. He now had to contend with a partially exposed spinal cord from the now defunct lamb that was still inside the ewe. He was meticulous as he extracted the remains, preserving and protecting the innards of the sheep.

All in a day’s work.

I remember the first day we arrived at the McLay household and the children first walked in the house. Six children aged 7 to 14. You can see the gravel road down a hill from the living room window. The bus trudging along with the dust rolling behind it and blowing in the wind. Out pops the McLay clan, half of whom race up the road and into the driveway. Immediately the house fills with the sound of stories of the day from all sides. All levels of tone.

And the laughter.

Immediately following afternoon tea (snack time after school) the kids scatter to grab homework, help their mum or prepare the milk to feed the lambs, do the rounds in the paddocks or work in the sheep shed.

“Do you want to see a lamb being born? Come on, hurry.”, one exclaimed.

Our first day.

This ewe was brought in from a paddock on their property to give birth. This happens when the ewe has problems with delivery or becomes weak after giving birth to the first of twins or triplets. A long plastic glove is all it takes Mr. McLay to brave the inside of the lamb. He helps this mother give birth to its two lambs.

They are contending with an “abortion bug” on their farm this season. It’s a bug that the ewes pass onto their lambs, and survival rate has been greatly affected by it. Therefore, saving every lamb that they can is vital.

Life and death go hand in hand on a farm. Most people have a hard enough time coping with how to explain death to their children, even leaving some parents to tell their children that ‘scruffy isn’t coming home right away, he’s just staying at the doctor’s for a little while’.

Now how does that help a kid learn to cope?

Birth. In all its yellowy, gunky, blood covered, placenta bubbles and strings of glory. In a few hours that soaking wet lamb will be a beautiful animal that I’ll just want to hold forever.

Death. The counterpart and harsh reality.

It’s not until you see an eight year old pick up a dead lamb and chuck it in a pile that should never have climbed to such an amount (it’s all because of this bug) that you realize that you need to quickly de-sensitize yourself to the idea of death on a farm. Even if it means saying good bye to a lamb you became attached to.

This is the reality of living and working on a farm.

Despite everything, I still managed to fall in love with a copious amount of baby lambs. Some lambs made my heart melt for their perfect faces. You know, the ‘postcard lambs’, the ones that are so white and you know they were models in a farm book at some point in their lives. Some of the lambs stole my heart by the way they called out to you from the hay shed.

At this point, I should explain the hay shed.

This is the home of many of the orphaned lambs from the farm. Sometimes the ewes have a lamb and basically reject it. Either it was a twin or triplet and it took one, but not the other. Sometimes it’s because they are new moms and don’t quite grasp the concept of being a mum (I can’t explain to you how stupid some sheep really are!! It’s quite incredible). Sometimes the lamb loses the mom in the paddock, and when they are reunited she doesn’t take to it. Sometimes its because the ewe had triplets and it only has milk enough for two of the three. There are many reasons. Gordon (Mr. McLay) picks the lambs that might not survive in the paddocks and brings them back to the hay shed or sheep shed and they are either ‘mothered up’ with a new ewe (long story) or they begin the three times daily enjoyment of the bottle feeding regime.

The lambs in the hay shed are just down the driveway from the house. As I write this blog entry, there are currently 7 lambs in one pen and 2 in the smaller one. We lost my favorite lamb from the smaller pen today. He was adopted by another ewe (it is kind of a forced adoption – where you pair up lambs with mothers who have given birth and maybe lost their lambs to a virus/bug). He was my favorite because when he used to ‘bah’ from his pen, I would ‘bah’ back in the really ugly deep way the ewe would do to her young. And he would immediately reply. This would go on back and forth until I approached him, at which point I would lay my hand on his head and just pet him, or pick him up out of the cage to hold him near me. I think he liked me. All they really want is their mom. Well, that and milk. They really want to be loved.

Then I fall in love with the special case lambs. Like ‘blue dot’. He has two gunked-up eyes and from day to day you don’t know if he’ll be able to see or not. Blind and dumb. Worst combination! But I grew an affinity towards him.

Naming a lamb. When you are feeding up to 10 lambs in one pen per meal, you need to know who and what you are talking about. So, lambs usually get marked by spray paint. Dots, dashes, shapes. Lambs & sheep get marked for all different kinds of reasons. Well, when we were up to 10 lambs in the one pen, Susan decided it was time to mark all of our ‘no mark’ lambs. And so, their names were formed. Creative names too, like ‘blue dot’ (dot on forehead), ‘blue neck’ (dot on neck), across ears (stripe across both ears), ‘blue nose’ (he actually moved when being marked, so his marking is from between his ears to his nose), ‘two stripe’, ‘spiney’ (who died sadly), ‘blue tail’, ‘bluey’ (susan or reuben were showing their creativity when they turned this lamb blue), ‘LC’ (yup, lamb chops), ‘leg circle’ (he also died), ‘blue ear’, and so on.

We moved from bottle feeding some of the lambs to a multi-feeder, and you know what, we actually call them out by their names. In the pen, there will be two of us holding the multi feeders, while up to two others are inside the pen with the lambs trying to get them to stay on the contraption and suck out the milk. Some drink too well, while you struggle to keep certain others drinking.

The lambs. I love calling out to them and hearing them crying back to you. If I do this, you can rest assure that I give them all my attention. They are so wonderful.

But so silly sometimes. If its feeding time and you step into a pen with a lamb, just be ready, cause its probably going to suckle on your boot or clothing or try to get between your legs and peck at your thigh. A natural instinct I suppose. You know they are thirsty, but they don’t know where to go to get what they need.

Farm Helpers in New Zealand. FHINZ.

Our first placement was with the McLay family. Gordon & Coralie, Susan (14), Reuben (13), Isabel (11, almost 12), Esther (10), Naomi (8), and Josiah (7). A wonderful Christian family that spoiled us with their love and hospitality. A family of eight grew to ten for the 12 days that we spent with this family. Every moment was wonderful, and they will be missed. We will surely miss the family, the farm, the lambs and simply being out here.

I could tell stories about our experiences here on the farm down the hilly gravel road, but there are too many to tell. We were thinking about that the other day. Instead, we wanted to list vivid memories we enjoyed with this family and all the things we will miss from this experience.

The children. All six of them. They are all so different and wonderful in their own way. I will miss their voices and how it filled the home so much (even the bickering). There is so much love between them, and I pray that they will remain close forever.

Morning games. We started to play games before the kids went off to school. We had the most fun laughing up a storm before they started their day on the bus. Collapsing with the McLays playing the sit down games.

My morning wake up calls. I slept in a room with Susan, and every morning we would get knocks on the door and the other children would slowly make their way in to say hello and hang out on the beds with us.

Waking up at half past five. I love waking up early. This family is at the table eating breakfast before 7.00am. My type of morning!!

Coralie’s wonderful home-cooked treasures. She is incredible, making almost everything from scratch. Every day was a new surprise with meals and deserts. It was like being at home. We gained some much needed weight back (thank you!) and were spoiled by this first experience.

Dinner table and morning bible readings. I thought it was amazing, and helpful to start and end the days with this routine, something that Brent and I will start to do as we grow together.

Collecting firewood to dry with Josiah and Isabel's help. Cleaning the hedges and making it into a game with Isabel.

The lambs. And to a certain extent the sheep. I have to admit, sheep can be ugly and they sound horrible, their ‘bahs’ are almost guttural. Yet the ewes that know and love their lambs, and the ones that give chase to their lambs when they are separated from them, receive gold stars in my book. Then there are the sheep that I dub the ‘baby snatchers’ of the bunch who might reject their own offspring and try to take possession of another ewe’s babies. It’s terrible what a dumb sheep can do. But the lambs, I will never tire of their faces, holding them or hearing them. Although when you know they are calling out for their mothers it does pull on a few heart strings.

Just feeding the lambs.

Basil (pronounced beh-zil). Esther’s pet goat. He does not have a mother on this farm and has been bottle fed by humans for as long as I’ve known him. He is just like a puppy. You could work along side him and he’ll just graze around you and jump on you. He will run up to you if you call his name. It’s incredible. But he can be cheeky. Oh, and he thinks he is a rooster sometimes. Once we tried to feed him off the multifeeder and he didn't take to the contraption, so we had to force him to drink off of it, which led to him squaking like a rooster.

Ty, Isabel’s dog – who doesn’t like me, no matter what I do. Kate, Reuben’s dog. Sonic, Naomi’s guinea pig.

Watching the goats sunbathing during the day.

Pronunciation. The differences between 'Canadian accents' and 'New Zealand accents'.

Going around the paddocks with Mr. McLay. I loved being on the trailer driving through the fields, hopping on and off intermittently with Brent as we took turns to open and close the gates. Taking in the beautiful land that the family owns and seeing nature take its course. You drive by all the ewes with their spring lambs, those giving birth, those simply grazing. Watching the lambs run awkwardly towards their mothers, scared by the quad’s motor, running towards their mum for some milk to calm their nerves. Watching the lambs that have lost their way starting to chase the quad bike, until Gordon would help them find their mother again. He truly is a shepherd, which seems to be a dying trade in today’s society. He is incredible out on the farm. He knows a lamb’s mom just by looking at it…and it might be so far away from where he found the lamb. He knows everything about the sheep he looks at in the fields, it’s truly incredible to watch him work. The rolling hills, the ocean, the sheep gnawing at the grass, the blue skies. Rescuing the lambs from places they might have fallen into and were left behind, and the unfortunate task of removing the deceased lambs. Unfortunate cause it’s sad.

Feeling the wind beating against your face.

Jem. The sheep dog. She’s a border collie, a seeing eye dog - which means that she herds the sheep with her eyes, not her bark (those ones are called hunt aways). Such a well trained animal. It’s quite spectacular to watch her at work with Gordon in the paddocks. Also, for the longest time Brent and I thought her name was Jim, due to the accents of the family. It took a while to adjust and even now, Brent and I both find ourselves calling her a boy.

A few firsts in the food department. Lollycake. Mmmmm. Spaghetti toasty – which is spaghetti on toast basically. Lamb ribs. Rice pudding. Homemade cinnamon raisin bread. Milo. Wheat-bix. Belgian slice.

Evening Milo after working in the sheep shed after tea (which is supper).

Crisp nights, clear skies, and endless stars and fresh air. Wonderful.

That sheep that didn’t make it over the metal pens and broke its leg almost in half. An irreparable injury. Dinner the next day. Yummmm

Brent’s experience tailing some lambs.

Spending some time in the garden digging up weeds and being approached by some cheeky hens.

That cheeky little goat in the front paddock. I think it’s Reuben’s goat’s baby. It knows where it fits under the fence and goes in and out of his paddock all day. Goats are funny little creatures, and so smart. Basil used to come up to the upper sheep shed area without us ever opening up a gate. He knows how to jump up and gain access through the locked areas.

Computer Solutions, a store in Balclutha, that allowed us to work on the computers one Saturday afternoon for free so that we could burn some DVDs for back home. Thank you kindly.

Completing evening tasks with Susan, Reuben or Gordon leading the sheep responsibilities.

Walking back and forth on the farm at night.

We were finally able to make it out to a church last Sunday.

Crappy gumboots. “The warehouse. Where everyone gets a bargain.”, so their motto says. Quite frankly, if a bargain won’t even last a week, then it’s surely not a real bargain. My pants – HUGE tear at seam. My t-shirt – hole developing near the seam. My gumboots – already displaying a giant hole in it. So, every piece of clothing that I picked up for farming from the WH was ruined. Crummy.

The children's questions about Canada and the differences between back home and New Zealand.

Going in for a cuppa mid day.

The strong winds through the hills.

Sitting at the table with Brent, Gordon and Coralie around 4.00pm, enjoying a hot drink while we wait for the kids to get in from school.

Sleepover with the girls. Right after we arrived, Isabel & Esther went away to camp for two nights. Naomi joined Susan and I in one room for a two night sleep over.

Rotating seating arrangements. We were able to sit beside each and every one of the McLay children throughout our time here. (breakfast and tea)

My long talks with Coralie and girl talk with the young ladies of the house.

Putting out laundry to dry on the wired fence, knowing that within the first hour the wind will have blown off any moisture (its such a strong wind).

Driving tours of the area by Coralie.

The younger children’s Friday afternoon assemblies. The first Friday I went to the assembly with Coralie to watch Naomi’s class perform a Maori story. I also stood up for the national anthem and forgot I wasn’t back home in Canada. A student in front of the crowd held up the lyrics to the NZ national anthem for all to sing, both in Maori and in English. This past Friday, Brent and I were both able to go and watch Josiah, Naomi, Esther and Isabel (along with many other classmates) participate in the ‘Jump Jam’(fitness, aerobics, energy and dance), as well as hear Esther give her award winning speech.

Playing with the kids. Just loving the children. This family is simply incredible. They immediately welcomed us with open arms.

Friday night, family night. Healthier fish and chips, followed by so many delicious deserts.

Home made bread every morning. (She also makes her own yogurt.)

The commotion that comes from a big family.

Exploring the old buildings on their property.

Least favorite moment would have to be the white bull cow. On the back of the quad bike, Gordon took Brent and myself to see an old farm house on his dad’s property. In the paddock, we happened to pass along side a massive white cow (a bull) who took interest in the bike. At first it was a light walk, then a trot, followed by head bucking and charging. He choose my side to be the target. I actually lifted up my feet from the side of the quad for fear that this bull would actually crush them as he charged the bike while Gordon was trying to evade him. “Cool it man”, Gordon tells the bull. It was like magic, the bull stopped.

The calf that ran away from the lamb.

The arts & crafts that the kids made us. Playing with the balancing animals with the kids. Playing the sleepy lion game. Going through books with the kids. Walking Thai and Basil.

Sad – when a lamb you have been bottle feeding suddenly dies.

Harold the cat meowing outside Susan & Isabel’s room every morning.

Herding 67 cattle down a gravel road to shift into a new paddock.

The moon shinning in the bedroom at night. The spectacular sunsets over the hills.

Meeting new people. Whether it was family, the church community, locals or the children’s friends (however we never did meet the ones who were afraid of the Canadians).

Learning more about the farm and how to work with sheep. It was a real eye opener and a great learning experience.

Everything.

We will both dearly miss the family and the farm. It was such an amazing experience and I pray that this family is blessed for many years to come. Thank you Gordon, Coralie, Susan, Reuben, Isabel, Esther, Naomi and Josiah for our wonderful time with your family.

We survived a ‘family of 10’. And it was worth every second.

the great big south

Today, we leave our comfy (my 2nd favorite hostel as of yet) abode in Dunedin, and head towards kaka point where Brent and I will be commencing our first of two farm stays before heading up to Te Anau to base ourselves from as we hike the Fiordland National Park tracks.

Yesterday, we finally finished shopping for our 'farm gear'. It's a mix of flannel ghetto and bum out active wear. That's the best combination, no?

Brent will be supporting his green PVC rain coat (these things reek), a classic brown/blue flannel shirt, with a grey tee underneath to accent the look, a pair of blue jeans and wonderful black gum boots with blue accents.

I will be displaying my farm charm with my bright yellow, far too big for this figure, rain coat a classic fuzzy grey hoodie, a blue tee shirt that speaks about my days as a roller derby championship in '81 (ya know, when I was 1!!), grey zip off activewear pants with 2 stripes down the legs a la Adidas, and my own black with blue accent gum boots.

We both wanted to don the flannel/jeans look - but I couldn't find anything remotely close to my size. Shopping here was difficult for this. And we were looking for cheap gear, nothing costly. I mean, it's too scoop up poo and stuff. But we also wanted to spare our tramping gear.

Now, the gum boots. I must tell you how sad I actually am. I think it was in Whanganui where we went to a Warehouse to check out clothes for farm work and we saw the BEST gum boots EVER on sale!!! Themed gum boots. Like you could get really ghetto floral patterns, skull and cross bones, girl and boy accent themes, chocolate buttons, jelly beans and my favorite - the chocolate themed gum boots. It was like looking at two rubber boots with pictures of 'pot of gold' chocolates all over them. Why would anyone MAKE these? They were so ghetto fashion that I wanted to buy a pair. But sadly, someone suggested that we wait to make the purchase and these gum boots were never found again.

*sigh*

I have since forgiven said person, but it was a sad day. Worse, those ghetto gum boots were cheaper then the ones we had to purchase.

Had to purchase - key phrase. Neither of us found our proper size. So I look forward to getting stuck in the mud and accidentally stepping out of said gum boot and into a pile of manure. :) Just like when I was a kid and my boots would get stuck in the snow.

The south island. It's been amazing. I really can't explain how beautiful the mountains are. And these people - they are so used to it, they barely take notice. I guess that happens after living day in and day out with that type of view - but how wonderful it is!!! I would never grow tired of such a beautiful sight.

All around us. Snow capped mountains on every stretch of road we've been on. I keep taking photographs, but they don't capture the moment. They try, but they just can't.

And now, with the 'new' car, the pictures taken while driving are all being photographed through the windows. :(

Our ghetto new car. Sgt. McClaughwd. Three out of four power windows don't work - leaving the back seat's passenger window as the only hope of fresh air (and this car bakes under the sun, so the summer driving is going to suck! - Huntington had AC which was a great bonus). The gas gauge on this car is possessed. Dear Victor who sold us this car said that he had just finished fixing the gas gauge. He was a sweet man, but could not help the poor terminally ill gas guage. So we basically have to fill up the tank and monitor our kilometers, and make a best guess as to when we might need to fill up. Classic.

It just wouldn't be right if everything ran smoothly now would it.

The drivers in New Zealand are crazy. Like insane. They have death wishes, each and every one of them. They want to drive 100km/hr even on turns where they post 25km/hr - and it's wonky to turn it going 40. And you know that the country knows that they are terrible at driving. They have the craziest ad campaigns for tired drivers and speeding. Everywhere you go there is a new and unique sign (yet to see a repeat) asking if you're tired to pull over - but doing it in a creative way. Then there are the poignant speed campaign billboards. And one really eery intersection commercial on tv right now talking about bad choices is like playing roulette.

Learning how to drive the stick has not been without its SUPER stressful moments. One time driving into Dunedin, we came upon a hill and I kept passing this one RV and then falling down on speed (due to the hill/incline) and by the end of the passing lane the RV would pass me once again. And it sucked, cause he was travelling between 20-30kms/hr under the limit on the straight parts. So I finally pass him once again then make my way back into the left lane (so others can pass if they want). I quickly come up behind an uber slow transport but can't pass him. There was another car coming up the passing lane, and out of courtesy, I didn't want to slow him down at all. But he didn't pick up speed fast enough. So I ended up having to slam on the brakes. When I went to downshift, I slipped into the wrong gear, and all of a sudden we're crawling at 30 clicks, cause I can't pick up speed. So Mr. RV passes us, yet again, as does every other car on the roadway.

The hills are freaky. I don't know how a manual car performs, but what if I can't make it up the hill??? Will I start to roll backwards???

Currently, my greatest fear.

Then there is Dunedin. Home to the steepest street of the world!!! So imagine, if it has the steepest, it probably has a lot of runner ups! Yes it does.

Yesterday was probably the worst driving moment - getting stuck on an uphill at a set of lights. I blew a red light once the other day (it's illegal here) simply because I did not want to have to deal with rolling back when the light turned green again. We're talking pretty steep hill here and one inexperienced driver. So the light is red, I'm the 2nd or third car. Stopping is pretty easy, and if you roll back, you just put your emergency brake on.

Light goes green. I release the hand brake and start to release the clutch as I'm gasing up. In first gear. Should be driving forward, only rolling backwards.

Uh oh.

I try a second time, after the car stalls (oops). Same thing, rolling backwards. I had to give up at this point, cause I was about to hit the car behind me. I put the flashers on and wave to the driver behind us, who then waves to the person behind her because it's a busy monday afternoon and there is a line up of cars in our lane. I just sat there and waited. What could we do? I just sat there and waited through 2 green lights with our emergency flashers on. Once there was no traffic behind us, I just gunned the car and made our way around the corner.

Hilly streets + standard vehicle = headache for me and Brent :(


Touring the South

So, we pick up our story as we leave Havelock for Kaikoura. Nice drive. Leaving the snow capped mountains of Mt. Richmond Forest Park and heading for the east coast and the ocean once again. It was sad to see the mountains fade in the rear view mirror, but wonderful once the ocean was visible through the rolling hills.

The rocky coast provided some spectacular views, and some beautiful sights once again as snow capped mountains started to peak over the rocky cliffs to our right. Some of the mountains on the south island are almost forgotten about since the southern alps share the same land. Yet these majestic wonders peak over 2500m. On the north island, Mt. Taranaki is a big deal and sits just above 2500m (2518m). On the south island on the NE side, you have beautiful peaks sitting between 2200-2600m high, yet they don't compare to the height of the alps and Mt. Cook. It's incredible. These mountains are surreal. Beautiful.

We spent some time driving and stopping along the coast, to spot some seals and sea lions tanning under the clear skies and also just to take in the views. It was a nice drive.

Kaikoura is a very touristy town. Not very big at all. We only spent one night, which was enough to get an idea of the area. There is a lot of tramping out in the northern parts which we will revisit in the summertime. Most of the parks are sitting in avalanche warnings anyway - wouldn't be too much fun. And with the way this trip is working out for Brent and myself, I would not be surprised if we were on a mountain that had an avalanche fall on our track.

Spent some time on the beach just enjoying the fresh air and clear day. Listening to the waves coming in and pushing their way forward with mighty force. Slowly slithering down the rocks along the beach. It was a wonderful sound.

We treated ourselves to burgers once again at night. Mainly because we found a cheap place, and also because the burgers we had after the QCT, although yummy, didn't satisfy the burger craving. These ones did. Nice and juicy. I ordered a hawaiin again, but did not get pineapple in the burger. After asking about that, they grilled me up three rings to top up my burger. Satisfaction.

We spent the night in the "Dusky Lodge" hostel, as suggested by Asha from Blue Moon. Didn't like it at all. One of our least favorites. Too big. We like the smaller intimate hostels. The bigger ones are just seady. People are messy and don't clean up after themselves (even though there are signs everywhere) and they just feel grimey. I lived in residence in University and I loved it. So it has nothing to do with a lack of desire to live in a communal setting. We did luck out with a tv in our room, so we just chilled out, snacked on some duettes and watched Batman Begins (well, I slept, Brent watched the movie). The other big pro of this hostel is the view from the back balcony. Amazing mountain view. We spent time at sunset just taking in the environment and the sights.

The next day we set out for Christchurch. Thinking that we would get a different vibe in a big city on the south island, we were excited. We started the drive out along the ocean which was wonderful, driving through rock tunnels and watching seals once again. Another clear and wonderful day to drive. Can't get them on the trails so much, but love them when we are blessed with them.

Every time we enter a city, we are quickly reminded how much this trip is not just a trip to see New Zealand. This trip is not about seeing the cities in the least. Upon entering Christchurch's city boundaries, we both had the same vibe from the city. I mean, we come from Toronto, so we know what it's like to live in a Metropolitan city. And it's amazing, but to truly appreciate a city I feel you have to spend a great deal of time in it and live the culture that is distinct to the city. Then you'll know what's great about it. Otherwise, sometimes it just feels like a rut. So really, neither of us enjoyed the city. Spent the night at a nice hostel, met a Canadian working there (who has only spent his time in big cities - but he comes from a small town in Saskatchewan, so it makes more sense to me). We weren't in love with the hostel, but it had one of the most comfortable beds we have slept in. So, that's how it wins some points.

We ditched the car at the hostel and walked into the city centre to check out the sights of C-town. There was Cathedral square which is interesting, but we ended up spending most of our time in the souvenir shops. They aren't like the shops back home with 80% plastiquey crap to purchase. These souvenir shops look like high end stores sometimes and they have some quality products to sell. Mind you, it wouldn't be the same without your cheap magnets and bungy jumping sheep suction cup memorabilia. Checked out the i-site (which usually means finding out where the grocery stores and warehouse are - we fill up with sale items (muesli bars and tramping food) in the big cities, and we were still shopping for our farm gear - hence the warehouse need). Then spent some time at yet another BNZ, trying to fix more problems that the person who set up our account has managed to squeeze into our trip. This time, I think we figured it out, AND we're making uber interest now so that'll help with some of the extra costs we have run into (ie: Sgt. McClaughwd and Huntington's surgeries and sudden death).

Walked around the city centre and decided that it was time to go out for breakfast once again. We tried this once in Auckland, and it was rather unenjoyable (the sausages really did look like they were made out of wood bark). Being Christchurch, we thought it would have more of an english influence and we might find a super great breakfast place that did all the fixings including baked beans. Yum.

The girl who helped us at the BNZ suggested a place, and we compared the menu with another place Brent found advertised on a city map we had (the ad which sparked the idea of a breakfast date).

We spent the evening shopping and then chilled out and ate dinner (soup & crackers, yum) with a couple from Ireland.

The next morning we got up super early and heading out to the breakfast place. It was a nice place. Got to order myself an omelette, while Brent enjoyed a big full breakfast, complete with eggs, meat, a lump of hashbrown/potato thing (it was yummy) and pancakes. We would never order pancakes at a restaurant back home (only exception is IHOP) because we make it at home all the time (i miss banana pancakes). But it was a real treat for Brent to enjoy these fluffy cakes. For an additional $2.10 you can enjoy them with Canadian maple syrup. Heh, heh. We think the waitress thought we were American or something because she asked if we wanted any sauce and before I could ask for tomato sauce (their version of ketchup, but blegh), she asked if I wanted any ketchup. I perked up so much, I think she really did believe we were American. It was delicious though - and proper tasting. Tomato sauce has a distinct flavor.

Anyway, so yummy breakfast, and we're on our way - yet again. Pack up the car and look at the map. What are our options?

We decide to venture inland to Lake Tekapo. The day is slightly dreary, so no hope of seeing the mountains which sucks, cause we were finally approaching the alps. Oh well. Decided to drive out there and spend a night to check out the church of the Good Shepherd.

We were about to venture to this small town along the east coast when we decided against it and simply took the inland highway out west. Greatest decision ever. Driving along, I see a sign "Cookie Time, 300 m". I was asking Brent what he thought that meant, when we suddenly passed the Cookie Time factory. We quickly turned around and made sure not to miss this factory!

Cookie Time cookies. Like Mrs. Fields or something back home. Nothing too special, but we've never had one before and there are advertisements for them at every corner store. Anyway, this is also the company that makes Bumper Bars, a bar that we eat on the trail for breakfast (as close to Cliff bars as they come, yet with dried fruit and huge chunks of chocolate - best breakfast EVER!!). So we decided to stock up on factory priced bumper bars. Get inside, and found out they also make the "One Square Meal" bars - the other breakfast bar we eat, which is scientifically proven to be the most balanced meal/bar on earth. Eating two of these bars is equivalent to 1/3 of all your daily intake of everything!!! We lucked out and were able to buy wholesale packs of 4 flavours of bumper bars, one pack of OSM and one 10pack package of cookie time triple chocolate cookies. Oh yeah. Sugar baby!!

This factory came as a complete surprise to us. So it was a wonderful day. They even heated up two cookies for us at the store so that we could enjoy one right away. Mmmmmm.

Then we drove to Tekapo. Unpacked at the BBH hostel and set out for the church.

I'm sorry to say this, but we were both disappointed. Not because it's not beautiful, but we didn't expect this church - which is a HUGE tourist highlight, to be right beside the road. From the pictures you see in a travel guide or from pictures most tourists take, you get the impression that this quiet little church is on a deserted road in the most picturesque place on Earth, by a crisp blue lake surrounded by beautiful flowers and snow capped mountains. The things you can hide in a photograph.

Actually, it's just off the sealed road (so not expecting that), and we were there at the worst time. Overcast skies, so no real mountain view, the lake is at its lowest level in years (believe it or not, that is one area of NZ that hasn't seen a lot of rain) and the floral arrangement has been replaced by dead shrubs and tussock.

Serene.

We'll be through the area again in the summer, so we'll compare before and after photographs of the area.

We spent time walking around the rest of the town, but there isn't much to it. 300 residents and motivated by tourism. Quick trip. Spent time at the hostel playing scrabble and reading. This is where we crossed paths with a backpacker newspaper that had a page 2 article about a Canadian couple titled "These boots were made for walking" - talking about this couple in NZ for 9 months here to walk around. The article didn't go into great detail about too much of what they were up to except for day walks and glass blowing. That was disappointing. We kept thinking 'we should have been that couple in the newspaper'. Our year long trip is ALL ABOUT WALKING!!! Well, it's supposed to be all about tramping, once the injuries fade away. And so far, I don't believe our story is less then exciting and unpredictable. And the article even posted their blog url.

Sadness. Maybe one day, we'll be featured.

Anyway. Right in the middle of cooking dinner, I looked out the window and noticed that the sun was breaking through the cloud. So we decided to literally put the dinner on the back burner and jump in the car to drive out to the look out area near the lake. We enjoyed sunset by the water and the evening kissed mountains. Beautiful.

Still couldn't find any ducks to feed our old bread to that night. We had spotted some earlier, then they disappeared. Oh well. Lost that bread in the fire, so no more need to find any takers. :)

Back for soup, some cards and slumber.

Next morning, well, this was the frosty morning where we cleaned off the car with the logs. Poor Sir Huntington's death. Learning how to drive stick. And driving to Wanaka. (If you want a detailed version of this story, please read the blog post titled "This is the story of the death of Sir Huntington the 3rd")

Wanaka. Ski bunny town. Two great ski fields surround this town, so it's like a mini Whistler I guess you could say. We drove into the town, parked our new friend and walked around quaint
little Wanaka. Visited ye olde i-site and just enjoyed being away from fiery cars, sadly without mountain views.

We spent two nights at the hostel we chose in order to spend time at Puzzling world the next day. This was for Brent. Funny enough, you really can do Puzzling World in like 2 hours. Oh well, we tried to spend as much time there as possible. We got to PW pretty soon after it opened. Wandered through their illusions room, room of following faces (really freaky!!!), did the ames room and the tilted room. It was all really interesting and fun. Then we spent some time running around their wooden maze trying to find our way to the 4 towers. There are two ways of doing the maze. Following their colour order, or just finding and climbing the four towers anyway you can. We opted for the 'anyway you can' route first, but then never found the will to return for the more challenging adventure.

The best part of the PW was this lounge area at the start where they have booths, tables and chairs with all the different puzzles they sell at the tables for people to play with. We would break up the day with moments to sit here and play with the puzzles. It was fun.

Back at the hostel, same thing, they had a bunch of these puzzles to play with. Everyone would try to get them right.

The treat of the moment was buying a block of cheese. The only other time we've purchased cheese (outside of the crackers & cheese stuff) has been in New Plymouth when we made the lasagna bake. This time we used the cheese to melt onto pasta one night, to grill onto toast the next night, and to add flavour to our sandwiches for the road the next day. Cheese is such a great treat, it's hard to explain when you're used to having it every day back home. It's expensive here, so you have to be in a place long enough to go through it without spoiling it in a hot car between towns/cities.

The melted cheese on toast was my favorite. So delicious. We clearly miss having real cheese in our diets.

Spent the evening with others around the tv, where we met another woman who was tramping in NZ and she told us about her experiences on Stewart Island's 10 day tramp. We have so much to look forward to. :)

From Wanaka, we drove out to Oamaru for a night before heading to Dunedin. We stayed at Swaggers backpackers that night, which was great cause it's this homely little place with three rooms and a camp mum named Agra. She was funny, cookey and very interesting. She was stepping out for a coffee with a friend of hers and told Brent and I to hop into the car with her. She took us on a driving tour of the area, famous for its blue penguins that come ashore every night. She took us up and down these streets and down laneways full of deep pot holes pointing out all the hotspots where the penguins like to hang out. It was a neat experience.

After being dropped back off at the hostel (at the top of a hill by the way - my introduction to extremely hilly towns with stick shift), we decided to walk around the old town. This area is kind of a mix between the Distillery districk and Liberty Village BEFORE they were converted to condo towns. Beautiful and rustic, slightly deserted and very interesting. This is where the penguins walk to. There is a night club on the corner, and at night you could be outside enjoying a beer, all the while a little blue penguin wobbles by your feet. It's the most fascinating thing.

We drove out to see the Yellow-eyed penguins who come out from the ocean in the early evening. It was an interesting site to venture to. You had to stay off the beach in order to let the penguins safely make their way to their nests for the night, but there were viewing platforms all around, and an expert penguin guy who volunteers with the DOC. He would be there to point out penguins waddling up from the water so that everyone would know where to look. These animals would just walk right by you, on the other side of a rail, but so close.

We went back to the hostel where we spent some time eating dinner and really just killing time for the evening 'show', the blue penguins who come out at night. You could pay 20$ to see some of them waddle up underneath bright lights, OR walk along the water and the docks and get a closer look at the beautiful penguins.

Brent and I set out around 8pm that night. We did nothing more then cross the train tracks when you could start to hear them calling out in the night. They are NOT quiet. You're there walking in the dark and you can see little speckles of white dotting the area ahead from you. Suddenly it moves. It waddles. And you know, there's this penguin right there in front of you. Right at your feet. All around you. It is such a wonderful experience. We walked down the dock towards the blue penguin colony location (the 20$ joint) and all around the buildings were like 100 penguins calling out to one another, surrounding you. It truly was spectacular.

Next up, Dunedin. Drove out to the city the next day. This time Brent and I had a different feeling from the city (which boasts 120,000 people). We liked it. For "big" cities as far as NZ go, our favorites are definitely New Plymouth and Dunedin thus far.

The only thing wrong with the city has got to be the hilly-ness.

Sadly, I must cut this blog short and save our Dunedin stories for another time, as the time is quickly escaping me. We must pack up and be on our way. We're off today for our first of two one week farm stays. The first farm is deep into lambing. Should be wonderful.

I am finally going to be able to play with the baby sheepies!

:)

This is the story of the death of Sir Huntington the 3rd

I don't know what was scarier.

The moment when I realized that we had lost our brakes, both my feet pressing down onto the floor as hard as I could, our car speeding down a hill in deep fog.

The moment the flame first sparked under the hood on the driver's side of the car, kind of like a pop, followed by our reaction of horror, especially being unable to stop safely at that point.

Or was it the moment when we were finally able to pull off the sealed road and safely transition to the gravel curb (which mind you are few and far between in NZ - so we were lucky) and the monster flame that shot out of the passenger's side hood and alongside Brent's door.

Really, I can't decide what was scarier. It all happened so quickly.

Standing alongside State Highway 8 with Tristan and Brent, waiting for the Fire Brigade to arrive to put out the flames, all you can do is laugh at your situation. This is funny. Cause this is NOT normal.

Wednesday, September 10th, 2008 - 6am - 6.30am

It was a cold night. The frost set in. While packing the car to get an early start on the road/day, we quickly realized that the 'wet car' we were looking at was actually frosted over. I have yet to see window scrapers out here in New Zealand. So, we used the next best thing. Fire logs. :)

It's seriously all we could find to scrape the windows clear of the frost. I used my air miles card back home once and destroyed it. All of the plastic cards that we have on us here are far too valuable to lose by scraping off frost. Everyone was sleeping, including the hostel hosts, and the only thing around us was a big pile of logs. That'll do.

So I guess you could say the morning was starting off interestingly enough. Our ghetto snow scrapers. Thick fog, which meant there was no chance to see the mountains today. Sad. We are headed for Wanaka today. Brent wants to visit Puzzling World, which opens at 8.30am so we figured if we left early we could maybe check into a hostel around 9am/10am and be on our way. Simple as pie.

The highway was empty so early in the morning. It was a nice drive. Once we left the town of Lake Tekapo, the fog lifted something incredible. The morning light beaming down on snow capped mountains. The peaks golden in the sun. It was beautiful. I, of course, pulled over to snap pictures that will never capture the true majestic beauty of these peaks, but will help me remember the moment if nothing more.

I thought maybe the day would be clear from here on. Great, because we're driving by the Mt. Cook look out today. That should be wonderful.

But once again, the fog rolled in. We are surrounded by beautiful blue lakes and slightly hilly, partly flat farm land. The highway is a big target for rolling fog. The reality of not seeing the mountains sets in. I'm bummed. But we'll be through this area once again in the summer, once the snow has melted a bit and the park tracks are open again. It's been the worst year for snow here too - which is great if you ski/snowboard, except that the avalanche warnings have been very high this winter/spring and many tracks have been closed.

I was watching my rear view mirror closely as we drove. The people in this country do NOT know how to drive. They will be a mile away, you blink, and BAM they are on your ass. Tail gaiting is like a hobby. But not a very welcome one indeed. And with the fog that we're sitting in, I want as much warning as possible if someone is going to kiss the back end of our car.

Brent was quiet, which isn't unusual in the morning.

Smoke. Puffy white smoke. My eyes' attention was drawn to the rear view mirror.

Is that fog? I quickly glance ahead. There is fog, but it doesn't appear to be that low to the road nor that white.

I'm about to open my mouth to say something to Brent. I think Huntington might be spewing out white smoke. But as quickly as the thought rolls in my head, the smoke stops and we continue to drive away at 70-80km/hr. It now just looks like fog in the mirror.

Is my mind playing tricks on me? Literally, just about to say something to Brent and it suddenly stops. Weird.

Not 30 seconds later, the parking brake light comes on the dash. I check to make sure I'm not losing my mind. The brake isn't actually on.

"Brent, the parking brake light just came on".

This happened to us before on a road in Pureora Forest Park. The dash lights came on and then the car stopped working. The DOC staff members stopped and made sure we were able to start it again before following us out of the park. But we thought we had fixed that problem in New Plymouth when Huntington saw a few doctor and had his surgery. Bought the new speedo, and so far the car was doing okay.

We started to pick up speed as we approached the hill.

We had never had the lights on the dash go on before while driving on the highway. And what was stranger was that it was only the parking brake light. I monitored the dash to see if anything else would light up.

I wanted to pull over to stop the car and at least take a look under the hood of the car.

I go to brake.

Nothing.

I place both feet as hard as I can and floor the brake.

Nothing.

And we're picking up speed, fast!!

We were blessed to be on a smooth windy country road and not a cliff side road. At least the turns weren't as sharp and there is a slight curb where I can pull the car over.

I am really calm in situations where cars are showing distress or in an accident. You have to keep your head on when you're the driver. But this was the first time I had ever lost use of my brakes (which is by far the scariest thing I could have imagined as a driver) and it was the first time I had a passenger with me while experiencing this scale of a car problem.

I calmly told Brent that I had lost the use of the brakes and told him everything would be okay, which is hard to convince someone when you're picking up speed down a hill you've never driven on before, in fog, in a country known for its windy roads that could be what's coming up but you don't know cause you have never driven this road.

He was worried, but stayed calm, because if anything, that's what I needed. I figured that we would just ride out the car until it slowed down, at which point I could pull us over safely onto gravel while using the hand brake.

A pop sound. Really close to me. That's when the first flame shot out from under the hood of the car. Straight at the windshield and up.

We both screamed "AH" in surprise. It was a shock reaction. You don't expect to see flames hopping out of a car. Especially while you're driving. The reality of the situation set in immediately.

Screw this, is all I'm thinking. I pulled the emergency brake as hard as I could and prayed that it would be enough to pull us over. What if the emergency brake doesn't work, we'll have to ride out the speed and then crash the car into the farm land somewhere, into a ditch. I have scenarios running through my head because you have to brace yourself for what you might have to do to get out of this situation.

Thank you hand brake. It starts to slow us down, at least enough that I can pull off the highway a bit. You have to remember that with the fog, and our inability to brake - our brake lights don't work and if we drop too much speed, someone could come up quickly from behind. I have a feeling the kiwis don't drive to road conditions here, or at least that's the impression they are definitely leaving with Brent and myself.

We wait for the car to come to a complete stop, but it's taking its time. That's fine, I'm thinking, maybe that spark and flame was a one time thing.

Before the car stopped moving, a giant flame shoots out of the front of the car. I don't know if it was from the hood or from underneath the mud-flap area. But it was big and it shot alongside Brent's door and window. Brent leaned into me in horror, while I sat there in shock. What the hell is going on?? What the F*@K is going on!?!?!?

Seriously?

I have to get the car to stop before we jump out. Trying to calm Brent and trying to stay calm myself I tell him that he is not allowed to go out of his door. That he will jump over to my side and exit this way.

Finally, no movement. I fling open the door, grab Claude off the dashboard and jump out making sure that Brent is close behind. We run across the street. Safe out of the car.

I'm just staring at the car. Smoke is pouring out from underneath of the hood. Under the car you can see little flames on the road. Something must have burnt and then fallen off the car and is now sitting on the road. I can see fluids dripping onto whatever is burnt on the ground.

Reality sets in. This car is not going to stop burning.

"Brent. The car is going to go up in flames. I don't think the fire is out. We have to get everything out of the car, NOW!"

Whatever was wrong with the car is probably only going to get worse. That's all you can think. We run back across the road and quickly grab one thing and then run across the street far from the car. You had to go in and get the hell out stat, cause we had no idea what was going on. My mind is racing through all the Hollywood movies and reality tv stories I've ever seen. What if the car blows up?? How does that even happen?? I have no idea what a car in flames looks like, nor how it reacts. I'm not taking any chances.

There was one point where Brent was at the car digging for something and I felt like he was in the car for too long and it was freaking me out. Like you sit along the road and picture the worst situation. Then you picture a person you love with their head in the situation when it happens.

The flames were cooking under the hood. You could hear them and see them through the front tires. We had very little time to get everything out. If our gear stays in the car, we lose everything.

I grabbed the last important items from the trunk, a box and the white gas for our stove (like the fire needs any more fuel!), leaving behind a broken funnel, wet roll of toilet paper that has been living in the trunk soaking up water, some newspaper, and I think that's it. Ran across the street to drop it off with our pile. Suddenly a person runs into my line of vision from across the road. He looks back to me while standing at the back door of our car. "Did you get everything?"

I never saw him pull up.

"Yes, thank you, we're okay. Well, our stuff is okay. Thank you."

Tristan Leov. A gentleman who works for John Deere and overseas production and sales in the whole of the south island. Driving through the area from Fairlie (which is east of Lake Tekapo), heading to an appointment further down the highway. Pulled over to make sure we were okay.

Once we were both across the street with Tristan, car as empty as we could make it, still thinking we lost something underneath the seats, we simply watched helplessly as the front end of the car burned up. Trying to call our insurance company, who were NOT OPEN before 8.30am. Calling as soon as we got everything out safely and pulled out the insurance paperwork. Closed. So NOT something we would ever run into in Canada.

Tristan asked if he could help in any way. He offered to call the police from his mobile, while Brent and I tried to get a hold of the insurance company. With Tristan on police duty, we called AA, our roadside service, to find out about towing. I mean, once this car is put out we'll need to get it somewhere.

All the while, I'm out documenting the events with my camera. I mean, is this ever going to happen in my life again? Hopefully not. So I might as well have really great pictures/video while its happening. Cause this is like the epitome of our trip - nothing normal ever happens. You don't wake up in the morning and expect your car to simply go up in flames.

A giant two tank tanker truck pulls up alongside the road in the opposite direction. A gentleman by the name of Mario comes walking out of the fog (such a great movie shot) with his fire extinguisher in hand and straight up to our car, blasting it with an entire giant canister. It looked like it was having some sort of effect on the fire. But then the extinguisher ran out, and the flames ripped out from under the tires once again.

"Don't worry, I have more", he shouts to us as he returns to his truck.

Three full extinguishers later, nothing. The fire was too hot and with the hood closed, you couldn't access what is probably the culprit of the fire anyway. "I'm sorry", Mario exclaims as he approaches me. "Please don't be sorry, thank you so much for trying to put it out." We all stood by and watched. Mario pulled out his camera phone to snap a photo. Cause you don't see this too often, if ever in person...maybe on the news. That's what Tristan said too.

Helpless. Three fire extinguishers couldn't save the car. Mario set up pylons on the road to try to slow down drivers and control traffic. The oil from the car was spilling across the road. Mario's truck was empty, which meant that the tanks were full of flammable vapours. He couldn't pass our car until the fire was put out completely.

Many drivers slowed down as they passed by us asking if we needed any help, and also to make sure everyone was out of the car. I would hope we weren't standing across the road staring at the flames knowing there was someone inside. The concern was welcome.

The windows were black. The fire must have been so hot inside the car. The smoke and fire blackening the inside. Tristan called it the best tint job ever. Seriously, people would pay big bucks for the tinting that our windows were producing.

The popping tires and blown out windows. Those are the sounds that you remember. The tires would be on fire for a long time before finally blowing open, it was surreal. The windows popped open, but only after being cooked by the flames and heat long enough. Melting. They sounded like broken ornaments. They sounded thin and so very fragile when they finally shattered one by one.

Mario directed traffic for us. I couldn't stop taking pictures. Just walking around the car (at a safe distance) in awe of the situation. Tristan didn't want to leave us until he knew we were okay. He didn't want us to be stranded on the side of the road. It's not a heavily traveled highway.

It took the fire brigade approximately 45 minutes to arrive on scene. New Zealand is largely run on volunteer fire brigades. 14,000 men and women volunteer to serve their townships and areas. Only the big cities actually have their own fire and ambulance services. In the towns, which is MOST of NZ, it's all volunteers. I remember hearing the sirens for the fire brigade in Raglan and in Taumarunui. It's eerie to hear the sound across the towns. But vital for those towns who rely on this service. Someone explained once that they sound the siren, and whoever gets to the station first, responds to the fire/emergency. I think it's like the first 5 people or something. There is a really great system that has worked well for small townships for years.

When they showed up, the highway was closed off as they had to cut across the entire road. It's only two lanes wide. Five gentlemen were on site. The hose came out pretty quickly, but it didn't matter anymore, the car was deep into flames by the time they were able to arrive.

It took a while to extinguish the flames. Even once it looked finished, they had to open the hood and the trunk to hose it down some more, just in case. The smoke was thick. This car was cooked. Pipping hot. All the drivers who were pulled over while the brigade was on site ran out of their cars to take photographs of the events.

It's just sad. Poor Sir Huntington III. Didn't last more than a month and 5 days with us.

At least we bought that $75.00 'fire and theft extension' on our insurance policy. Tristan took a look at our policy. "QBE, they're a great company to be with". Who would have thought we had the best insurance company in NZ. We purchased our insurance through BBH, because it was the cheapest option (otherwise we were looking at ridiculous amounts of money). We purchased 3rd party insurance - which means if you are in a crash, your insurance will pay for the other person's damage (hope they have 3rd party too, cause then your car will be repaired), and then the fire & theft extention. Not that we thought we would EVER have to use it. But it came as a royal blessing. We were out our dear car, but maybe we would be okay. The car was purchased for $2045 with WOF (warrant of fitness), plus the $750-$1,000 we put into it with labour and parts at three places. And ta da, burnt rubble. But we should be able to make up the $2000, since we have it valued at that with our insurance policy. We'll see. We're praying everything turns up okay.

The firemen opened the road again but set up blockades further down on each end. People zip through the area at high speeds. And considering how much fog there still was on the road, it was a real hazard. Only one lane was open. I went to take a photograph from one fireman's point of view and he told me to be careful because people zip around corners like mad around here. Snapped the photo. And it was no more then 10 seconds that I crossed back onto the curb that a car sped up to the blockade so fast while another car was given the okay to come through the one lane. The fireman had to run in front of the speeding car to get it to slam on its brakes. Stupid drivers.

They moved the blockade out much further after that one car almost took out the blockade.

Once the fire was out, Mario was able to drive by once again. He took down all our information. Since he used 3 fire extinguishers on our car, he had to write up a report. I'll gladly sign that one. I think he had one extinguisher left in his cab, but by law has to keep it in his truck. And quite frankly I'm glad he had a spare, cause he's in the flammable vehicle!!!!

I forgot to mention that AA dicked us around and basically said 'well, since your car is on fire, we can't help you'. This is actually quite a long part of the story, which I won't get into on the blog. We purchased roadside assistance from AA, and you know AFTER the fire is put out, I would expect that we could use one of our towing times on this situation. After we were safely in a town, I had to deal with speaking to AA and one woman said that since we had already put in a claim with our insurance, they could no longer help us - but it's like 'why wouldn't i call my insurance company??' - but none the less, they pretty much cut Brent off on the phone and that pissed me off. They said had we not spoken to our insurance they would have helped us - yet they were called before we could get through to our insurance. So much frustration, so little time to deal with it.

On and off we would have conversations with the men of the fire brigade, answering as many questions as we could. We didn't know what started the fire. It literally just started, and never stopped. One gentleman informed me that he called for a vehicle recovery and that the pile of metal would be picked up and that we didn't have to worry about anything.

Except for the bill I would say.

Everyone was so nice. Small town people. Laid back, but doing their job. I asked one of the firemen about how volunteering worked when they all carry full time jobs as well. When they hear the siren, they have to leave work. It's that simple. Without the volunteers, this country would have a lot of problems. But because its volunteers in the towns, I think that's why you get a lot more people pulling over and stopping to help, cause they know they could be the first responder on site and maybe the only help someone might get. It takes a long time to get the volunteers on site, especially when you are in between towns.

Tristan was wonderful. He didn't want to leave until we were safely in a town. The tow truck drivers asked if we needed a lift into town, and Tristan volunteered to drive us. We got the information from the tow truck guys about where they were taking the car and Tristan helped us load his Holden (a brand of car that Brent and I dub the lexus of NZ) and drove us to Twizel. A town that was never meant to stay standing. I don't remember what it was built for, workers of the dams perhaps. It was meant to be torn down in 1973, but with much hesitation from the locals. The government decided not to tear it down, and they started to expand. Today, the population sits at about 1300. But funny enough, we later found out in Wanaka as I looked through a LOTR location book and tour guide pamphlet (no, we're not interested in wasting our money on these tours) that TWIZEL is a HOT SPOT for LOTR tours. A chunk of the movies were shot out in the area, which makes sense as it's pretty barren, tussock-like and mountainous.

Driving away from the scene, we crossed paths with a second fire truck. The first one's tank was running low. We were 'big news' for Twizel. If they had local news, we would have probably been on it. :)

In the car, Tristan said we were with a good bunch of people. He overheard one of the tow truck drivers asking if any of the firemen had a car they knew that was for sale. They knew we needed to replace our now defunct car, and they were already working away at finding us options.

We unpacked all our belongings at Rex Miller Engineering Ltd. in Twizel. Tristan left us his address and phone number and told us to call him if for any reason we are stranded out here. He would drive from Fairlie and take us home. "It's only an hour away", he said. Amazing. Some of the people we have had the pleasure to meet blow our minds. We shook hands, and he was off, very late for his appointment, but glad to help.

First order of business, outside answering all the mechanics at the shop's questions about the car, was microwaving two "Cookie Time" cookies that we bought at the factory just outside of Christchurch. Took our heated up cookies outside the shop and just let the reality of our day sink in. We were stranded. In Twizel. A town we might have gased up in.

The people at Rex Miller were amazing. I mean, we took over their staff room with all of our belongings (small room) and they made sure we were as comfortable as possible. They let us use their spare phone to get in touch with our insurance and to let me deal with stupid AA. The tow cost us $250 and I needed someone at AA to explain the fine print that must be in our terms and conditions (which there isn't - it's just they messed up, but we want that $250 recovered). We had the insurance claim form faxed over to our attention at the mechanics and I sat down and filled it out and faxed it back straight away. And now we wait for an adjuster to call to tell us the car is a total loss (obvious) and break whatever news about "market value" they need to indicate to us...which is where we're probably going to get screwed in making back our $2000.

Stranded. What are our options? It's not like there's a bus/train stop in Twizel. Tour buses drive by on the highway, but that's about it for the town. We thought maybe we could leave our stuff somewhere and get to a bigger city/town so that we could find another car, come back, pick up our stuff and be on our way.

Our car makes it back to the lot. Hoisted on a flatbed tow truck. Nothing but metal. What wasn't attached to the car any longer was shoveled into the inside of the car (to clean it from the road). Incredible. It's truly something else to see what a car can burn to. I mean, I've seen burnt out cars before, but never to this degree and never my own car. To know what it looked like hours before...it's insane!

Victor, one of the gentlemen who towed our car and works at the mechanics, mentioned that he was fixing up a car for his granddaughter and said that we could have it for $500 if we wanted. "But what about your grandaughter??", I asked. "Oh, don't worry, we have plenty of cars around here, there's a Mitsubishi in the back that I can fix up by Christmas. It's a Christmas present you see." John, a hilarious bloke that works there, said that coming up with cars is an occupational hazard. They just pop up everywhere. They get old useless cars to fix them up. Usually pass them onto family members/friends who need a car, I would say.

We thought, okay.

Victor told us to give it a go around the block to see if we liked it. Okay.

Brent and I, after looking at all our options and after trying to figure out with AA if they would honour our one policy where they will tow you to any city of your choice and either rent you a car for three days or put you up in a hotel (this was the argument we were going through with AA, since this would have been a situation that we would have asked for this option, especially since we were stranded - again it's long and complicated to explain how this AA story fits into our fire situation, but it makes sense, trust me) - once we realized they weren't going to come through, we understood this car might be our only option.

We get into the car and sit down, buckle in.

Stop.

I can't drive this.

Brent looks at me. "It's a stick. I can't drive manual."

We get out of the car and back into the garage. "Hey Victor... got any other cars for sale?"

"Why, what's wrong with this one?"

"I can't drive a stick."

He looks at Brent. "What about you?"

"I don't have my license"

Victor hits his head with his hand, as if saying 'what's wrong with you people - you can't drive stick and a boy can't drive, this is so backwards. He spent about 2 minutes running through how to drive a standard and said I could figure it out. "You want me to try it on your car?? Now??"

"Yeah. Manual cars are forgiving. You'll figure it out."

Okay. Here we go. Driving on the left hand side of the road, with crazy ass drivers. And NOW, I'm going to add the whole realm of learning how to drive a stick to the wonderful pile of driving fun. Sure.

This is funny. I mean, I have friends who have had standard cars, but I've never driven one before. I think I drove an ex-bf's truck once in a parking lot, and when I made it sound funny going from 1st to 2nd gear, he kicked me out of the driver's seat. But I used to shift the gears in my friend Marc's car all the time when I was a passenger. He would push down the clutch and tell me to shift and it would be my job to change the gear. Perfect. I was a passenger in North America, where the gear shifter was to my left. I'm a driver in New Zealand where the gear shifter is to my left. At least I have that down. How hard could this be.

First, we reverse. Smooth and slow. Next, just gotta get it into 1st gear.

Rrrrrrrr. ppppppfffffff

Stall.

Number one.

Let's try that again.

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Pppppppppppppppppfffffffff

Stall.

Number two.

Mind you, the car is butt out in the middle of the road right now. Not that it's a busy town, but for some reason a lot of bigger trucks are using this side road. Argh.

I send Brent into the shop after a third stall. Someone has to get this car off the road, and it's clearly not going to be me. Victor and Brent turn the corner and Vic looks at me. "I can't get the car off the road", I exclaim. "Here, get in, I'll teach you."

We drive down a long stretch of road and he walks me through all the steps I need to follow with the car. Giving me inside tips that I couldn't repeat to you now, I was barely retaining the important information. I was sitting there realizing that I had no choice but to learn how to drive this car, because it was our only way out of Twizel. If we wanted to leave today, this was it.

Victor pulls over. "Now you try."

I don't remember if I stalled it. But it was funny. I wasn't fast about anything. We successfully made our way back to the shop, and that was my 5 minute stick shift lesson. That's it, that's all.

Back at Rex Miller, we signed the papers. We had to. This was our option. It was an option - which was more than we had once we got off the phone with AA. Could make for an interesting adventure.

By 12.46pm, we were on our way. Packed up the new car and heading for Wanaka, where we will now spend 2 nights. We weren't going to make it to Puzzling World until tomorrow, that's for sure.

We pulled out of the mechanics and parked just off the highway in a carpark. We ate lunch as we waited to get a hold of our insurance company. I called around 12.40pm to change the vehicle information on our policy, so that this new car was insured and the receptionist said I had to call back around 1.15pm since everyone was at lunch. Another situation I don't think I have ever ran into in Canada. People generally take staggered lunches back home, but here it's like the entire office clears out all at once. Too strange.

We didn't want to get onto the highway until we knew we were covered. Let's be honest, I am driving a stick for the first time in my life and I'm not going to do that without covering our asses.

The drive the Wanaka was interesting. You could call it that. The highway stuff was okay. You just get it up to 5th gear and then you're cruising. Downshift every once and a while to 4th while you come around the sharper corners. I think the first time I tried to downshift to get down to 50kms/hr as we entered a city, I missed the gear and ran into problems, and a bus pulled up right behind us and almost kissed our new car. I pulled over to let traffic go by. I had no idea what I was doing. I think I put it into 2 instead of 4 and then 1 instead of 3. SUE ME - I'm new at this. I'm paranoid about driving and accidentally going from 3rd to Reverse and killing the car and the transmission.

Driving into Wanaka sucked cause we missed a street and I took the next street to turn around. That was a mistake. It was a cul de sac on a down hill, with people hanging outside. So I had to do a 3 point turn with spectators for the first time in a stick on a HILL. From reverse to 1st, I couldn't get the car to stop rolling back. I was so stressed out. This is stressful shit here!!! I just gunned the gas and screeched the tires back up hill, probably leaving tire tracks on the road. Sweet. :)

Once that baby was parked outside that hostel, I was not willing to move it unless 150% necessary. I was not enjoying the moment.

Now, as I type this 3 days after the accident, driving a manual car is starting to be fun. Brent and I high five anytime I get it into 3rd with no problems - either shifting up or down. Cause for some reason, that's the hardest gear for me. I applaud myself when I am able to down shift properly through a round a bout and up a hill. I need the encouragement right now to get me through the learning stage. It's sad, I'm sure. Especially for all those reading this who do know how to drive a manual car.

I even drove it up a steep as crap hill yesterday in Oamaru. And it worked really well.

Mind you, I have stalled it a few times, and I don't always get it in the right gear and I have run into another situation on the highway yesterday when we were going uphill and I lost all my speed (from 100 down to like 40kms/hr) and a bus was on our ass right away, and all I wanted to do was down shift to the right gear in order to get the car to pick up speed again, but the bus didn't know I was going to lose all my speed (nor did I) and when you down shift you don't use your brake so there is no warning. Ahhhh that was horrible. But other then that, everything's been super. :)

And today, we're off to Dunedin - which actually has the STEEPEST STREET IN THE WORLD. I already told Brent if he accidentally navigated me onto that street and I had to drive upwards, that I would pull over and he would have to find someone to do it for me.

Good times in New Zealand.

But huge thank yous to Tristan - for all of your time, jokes and kindness. Mario for doing all you could to help out and being so kind to us - he called us up later on (we provided him with our mobile for his report) to make sure we were okay and to see if there was anything he could do for us - AMAZING. The volunteer fire brigade (one member of the team was actually at Rex Miller when we were pulling out, so I had an opportunity to thank him once again) who finished the job. All the people at Rex Miller who made our 4 hours with them entertaining, enjoyable and relaxing (as much as possible given the circumstance).

Thank you God for protecting us through the ordeal.

Maybe it was for the best. This car was never meant to go beyond Lake Tekapo apparently.

And let's be honest, if you are ever going to lose your car, this had to have been the most spectacular way to see your car die. And in the grand scheme of things, it's almost a better thing that our car died in a fire as we are only insured for 3rd party, fire and theft. I think the "fire & theft extension" was, in our situation, worth its weight in gold.

And really, all we could do was laugh at our situation. Why I thought things would be smooth and run normal for us is beyond me. Our claim is underway. Who knows what will happen with that now.

As of now, it's good bye $3000 Sir Huntington III.

And hello $500 car.

May we present to you:

Sgt. McClaughwd

The spelling of our new car is inspired by NZ's use of multiple consonants in some of their words (not only Maori words) and acronyms like EFTPOS. Proper pronunciation of said car's name is: Sargent McCloud :)

Toyota Corona, circa 1985.

It took us a long time to name him while driving. I liked the idea of calling it Lieutenant something, then Brent upgraded the car to Sargent. It took us a long time to come up with anything. McClaughwd was decided upon at one point and then the spelling was discussed further for several kilometers and well into the night.

We like it. And it's a good little car. I guess. I wouldn't know any differently. Our KIA looked like a luxury backpacker's car almost. This car has the classic 'shit box' look we expected to purchase in New Zealand. I guess we were always meant to have it this way.

It's funny, I really did think that my next blog would be about the southern alps. The mountains are so gorgeous and we have had some magnificent views of these majestic beauties. Day in and day out while driving, we have seen some great panoramic sights. All attempted to be captured on camera, nothing will come close to living it yourself. Driving in a valley of tussock land with the snow capped beauties all around you. It's a magnificent moment. And we are blessed to be able to drive this for the next few months while we live in the south island.


Let's pray that Sgt. McClaughwd stands up to our trip and that my skills as a manual driver pick up quickly. :)

Should be a fun and steep learning curve.

6ish weeks into the trip now.

What's next?

Just another day...

Sir Huntington III - Head of the trail - Bridal Veil Falls (back in early August)

Sir Huntington III - State Hwy 8 - Wednesday, September 10th - approx 7.45 am

Sir Huntington III - Twizel, South Island - Wednesday, September 10th - approx 12.00pm

Well, at least we won't have to worry about that ant problem anymore.

Weather Forecast: Fine

Homestyle Tramping Hiatus Recipe

Take 1 90km/5 day tramp (preferably one of lesser intensity that one is used to)
One female backpacker
One male backpacker
Trail made 80% of clay/limestone - most of which is exposed and slick
Lots of rain
Injuries - day in and day out
And a lack of national parks that are safe to tramp through during this weather

And you have the perfect ingredients for a tramping hiatus.


It's Sunday, September 7th. We resume overnight tramping on October 1st.

Good times.

Aside from the fact that it's been the worst winter almost ever down here in New Zealand - everywhere we go, the locals are quick to point out the records that each day of rain brings for their region - we've decided that it's time to pack up our bags, lighten our load (day hikes from here on) and wait out the better weather.

Part our personal decision, and partly due to injuries that need to heal.

So, a week ago we decided to head south. My oasis in New Zealand - the south island. I've dreamed of these days for years. The moments where I would first lay eyes on the Southern Alps. The day I first enter the parks to climb the mountains. The beautiful snowcapped beauties. I have a feeling they might stay that way for the duration of our trip. We heard from another tramper that they predict Mt. Ruapehu (in the N. Island) will be open for skiing at Christmas - a completely abnormal situation. A mountain that we planned on visiting in the late summer/early fall when it was safer to tramp around (didn't want to deal with all that snow melt in the spring). And now, we might never see that mountain without snow. If it's skiable at Christmas, it might not lose its snow cap until next year. Oh my.

Heading south. Migrating.

Let's just say, it was starting to get really nice in New Plymouth when we left - and the moment we started hitting the cities/towns further south in the north island, you quickly realized how much colder it was going to get. The people on the streets are back in winter/fall jackets, scarves and mitts, tuques. I'm back hibernating in layers of thermal clothing. I have been tramping in them for too long, and now am frigid without them. I never aclimatized to their winter. It's damp. All the time. This rain does not end! After over a month of tramping in it, I'm ready for it to dry out. As is Brent.

We spent our last day in NP buying more food/gear for future tramps. Gotta stock up when the sales are good. We also visited our favorite NP outdoor store, Kiwi Outdoors, to check on our stove. The jet might have been dirty/gritty - so we cleaned it out (which really just means poking a hole in the jet to clear any debris). Hopefully that will fix things.

From NP, we took the "Surf Hwy" 45 down to Whanganui. Neither of us were really impressed by the hwy. Thought it would be more picturesque, but it wasn't along the coast. You had turn offs/side roads with signs saying 'surf beach 3km' all along. It's almost like the country changed at that point. Rolling hills ceased and it was just flat. All around us. Driving around the peninsula, flat farm land, the hwy wasn't as windy as most others, and you could see Mt. Taranaki everywhere you went. It was a clear day.

Of course it was, we weren't on the trails. It's always beautiful when we're off the trails - no joke.

We just kept thinking "where did New Zealand go?". It's just not what you think of when you think about NZ. It was strange.

Whanganui. Saw it in a day. We're not here for the cities, and you can tell. This city is reknown for the Whanganui river, and despite being right on the ocean, the city people pay no attention to it. It's unfortunate that we saw the city in the winter, the trees are partially bare, so it wasn't as 'picturesque' as the locals would want it to be showcased in. We went to the art gallery (free - heh heh), walked to their underground pedestrian walkway to this rickity elevator that brings you to the watch tower in the city, explored the watch tower, walked along their beloved river. And done. City in a day. There's really not much to say about this place. We could have based ourselves here for the Whanganui National Park, but we're waiting for the DOC to fix the tracks that have slipped before walking those trails. In the late summer/fall - we'll return. Had a nice room at the hostel, overlooking the river. In the morning we bought (FINALLY) road map books - cause we've been working off a huge map I had purchased before the trip (a guide only) and mini maps - none of which have all the roads on them. We haven't gotten lost yet, but it can be hairy when you don't know where you're going sometimes. Bought some fruits at yet another fruit stand (1.80 - gotta love discounts - fruit & veggies here are ridiculously expensive, so fruit stands are a real treat to find).

And that's it for Whanganui.

From here, we drove straight to Wellington. A drive similar to the surf hwy for the most of it, flat farm lands. Felt like we were back home for a bit driving through the prairies maybe? When the highway finally became a two-lane hwy, you started to see the coast. And then you started to see the houses popping up along the rocky hillside. It was beautiful. The views these houses had were beautiful. I knew Wellington looked like this, we were getting close.

Wellington. We spent two nights. Opted to just get a hotel room, as the hostels in the city are almost as expensive, with no parking, and grimmy looking (they are much larger in size - unlike the smaller more intimate places we've been enjoying thus far), so we spoke to the isite here and found ourselves a deal. Two nights in a hotel, breakfast included. Oh my, we were so excited. We dreamt about the eggs and bacon and what kind of food they would serve. We looked at their menu and noted what we might see in the buffet the next day.

So disappointed. I gotta tell you, breakfast just doesn't mean the same thing over here. When you tell me that breakfast is included, unless you say it's continental, I am thinking like going out for brunch in Toronto breakfast. Finding a good breakfast place in NZ, is nearly impossible. We have come to realize that people just don't do big brunches here. I think I miss that a lot about back home. I love going out for brunch. Delicious. The big buffet we came down to the next day was three types of cereal, milk (for the cereal), canned fruit put in a bowl, jam and toast. Nothing hot from their lovely menu we had been dreaming of. It's great to have free breakfast, and we were appreciative, but we carry cereal and toast with us in our chiller bag - so we weren't expecting that. So we decided to eat a lot. :)

We spent our time in Wellington booking our ferry over to Picton, taking in the Te Papa museum (over two days - it's 6 floors), the art gallery, going up the cable car to visit the museum up there and just to do the 'touristy' ride (which bumped us into a Canadian family who had just moved to Wellington from Calgary - they asked us if we were Canadian - seeing the MEC logo on Brent's daypack). We simply walked everywhere and enjoyed what the city had to offer. Drove out to Mt. Victoria before catching the ferry to take in some great city views.

Saddest thing, we were going to go to the Weta Cave (they did the special effects/cgi for LOTR, narnia, etc) - but we didn't know how much it would cost, so we decided not to go, only to find out once we were in Picton that the admission is FREE!!! SO we'll have to check it out on our return to the North Island.

The ferry ride. First time on a car ferry. Fun times. There was a transport truck on our ferry carrying hundreds of sheep. On the back deck you could look down at them and the top section of the truck (there were 4 levels of sheep) was open and the sheep would just look up at us. Amusing.

The haunting snow capped mountains of the south island. As we set out from the Wellington harbour and entered the cook straight, you could see them in the distance. At first Brent didn't believe me that they were not clouds. He finally saw them. They were so beautiful. So distant, but majestic. That's what I was here for. The weather was beautiful. The ocean was calm. Clear skies. It was freezing cold, but that could have something to do with being in the middle of the ocean. We spent our three hours going inside and out continuously. They were screening two horribly boring movies inside the ferry, which we would watch parts of when we were inside warming up. The rest of the time we spent on the front deck just taking in the scenery. At first we couldn't find the forward observation deck, and there were so many people on the back deck we almost believed the front one didn't exist. Once we approached the Marlborough Sounds, we camped out on the front deck to take it all in. The giant hillsides, rocky shores rolling past. We even saw a dolphin swimming by our ferry. I missed any photo opportunity with that one. :( We froze on that deck, spending almost the entire last hour out there, but it was worth it.

Picton. Spent one night at this hostel called Tombstone Backpackers - a newer hostel. It was nice, even had a hot tub. Busy that night from people coming off the ferry. We went out for fish and chips that night at a local takeaway shop. After walking by the ferry's cafe so many times and smelling the grease from their fries, we just couldn't help but buy some ourselves.

Our night at the hostel also came with 'free breakfast' and again we fine dinned on corn flakes and toast. :)


THE QUEEN CHARLOTTE TRACK

The reason we camped out in Picton for the night was to store our stuff the following day before setting out on the QCT for five days, four nights. So many people talk about this track and say how wonderful it is. But I have to be super honest with people, neither Brent nor myself enjoyed this track very much at all.

Yes - beautiful views. On a clear day. But honestly, I would almost suggest this as a day hike sort of track, not a multi day tramp. Most people take a boat out to Ship Cove (cost between 55-75/person) and walk back to the start of the track, with pack drops in between locations - which means that ferry company that took you to ship cove will take your pack for you and ferry it to your evening's destination, so you don't have to carry it on the track. And maybe that's how you can enjoy the track more. We did not do either. We walked from the start down the track "against traffic" and walked back to our car at the end.

I'm not going to break down this track on a day to day. It really was a lot of the same thing every single day. So I'll have to recap it differently.

First off - we camped the track. Yay tenting it. We were so happy to finally use the tent. Aside from needing it as an emergency shelter on that first hike, we've been on hut tramps so far (and good - cause it's been wet), so our tent hasn't seen outside its bag so much. The thing with this track is that it is so commercialized that there are lodges and backpackers at every road crossing this track makes. You could do this tramp in style. There are lodges that have private trails that deviate from the main trail as well. Your choice.

On our first day, we left Picton with 3 Peanut Butter & Jam sandwiches each. One for lunch, and two for dinner that night. Drove out to Anakiwa, parked Huntington and set out for our first night of camping.


Who we saw on the trail.

It was a busier track for us. We never run into people, and this time, we actually did. Day 1: we crossed paths with two individual day hikers and two wild goats. Day 2: 1 hiker (oh, and we're noticing how even if the hikers have packs on, they are much smaller and lighter then ours - we don't get it!!!). Day 3: 8 hikers - 4 groups of 2 hikers each. All within 45mins from each other near the Torea Saddle. Day 4: NOBODY. It was our first day returning to the car, so we figure we were walking in the direction most people walk it - which might explain the lack of humans. Day 5: 1 jogger (twice) - at the end of the trail, she did a circuit to the first campsite and back so looped us. 1 woman walking her dog.

Oh, and then there were the 3 days (day 3, 4 & 5) where we encountered cheeky Wekas. A bird that almost resembles a chicken in its movement and their feet - which have bigger talons. These cheeky little birds are curious as heck.

"This shelter belongs to the Weka. Beware."

A warning written into one of the visitor logs at one of the shelters near a campsite. We stopped at this shelter for lunch on day 3 and Brent walked down the trail for a moment, so I was alone and playing with my camera to do a photograph on a timer. And while I was playing with the camera and sitting on the shelter's staircase, I could see this thing lurking in my peripheral. The weka. There birds, they want your food. These birds are not afraid to come right up to you and take what they want. Curious little buggers.

On our 3rd night, we arrived at the campsite really late and had to filter our water right away as night was falling. And there too was a Weka. And he just circled us the whole time. But you really don't know what they are going to do, and they are wild, so you can't trust them. They just go in and out of the bush. When they approach you they start pecking at the ground as though that's what they came to do. Poke for worms. But you know the truth behind their approach. They are not shy. We don't think they can fly, because if you run at it to get it back into the bush, it just runs away. Never saw one take flight.

If Kias are as cheeky as these Wekas, we're going to have problems in the alps. The kias are a big more destructive and damaging to equipment and vehicles.


Dinners.

We fine dinned on our first night, with our faboo PB&J. On our second night, Spaghetti Bolognaise is on the menu. But sad little stove is once again having performance anxiety. Oh my. So, stove is still not working, it's night 2. We're on to dry noodles for the rest of our hike, and this also means that we will not be hiking out to Ship Cove (the end of the trail), as we will not have enough dinners to get us there and back. Which, really was fine by us. We spent parts of each day almost wanting to turn around. Seriously, we were bored on this trail. Maybe it's because it was an easier pathway then we were used to. We're used to climbing up and down hills on our hands and knees at times. I mean there was a lot of up and down on this track, but the path was wide and maintained. Meh. Yes, the views were lovely (again, when it was clear) but it was all the same thing and truly was something we would have loved on a day hike. Just not our cup of tea I guess.

So from night 2-4, we were destined for dry noodles. On night 3, Brent had accidentally ripped the noodle package, and when I went to throw it in our rubbish bag, I ended up spilling the leftover noodles everywhere outside my door of the tent. Ah! I do not want rats snacking on these noodles by my head at night. Brent and I swapped tent sides that night.

Sure enough, in the morning, the noodles were gone. But I never heard rats coming by. And they make sure you hear them I would say.

As the sun slowly rose (albeit behind the clouds), the mystery revealed itself. A weka. Poking its head underneath our fly. Right up to the mesh of our tent. Eating up all the noodles. Quiet as anything.


Tenting it.

I love camping. Our tent, which truly only fits two people, happily houses us two people and all of our gear. Especially on this trail. Everywhere we set up our tents was muddy or soaking wet. Not exactly where you want to store your bags overnight. We have two doors to this tent, and the fly offers two vestibules, for you to store gear in. It stored our poles, fuel bottles, muddy boots and gaiters every night, but everything else is shoved at one end of the tent. An elevated foot rest you could say. Our bags aren't waterproof. And it shows when you take out your sleeping bag's dry compression sack and it's soaked. Our sleeping bags sit at the bottom of our packs, so they'll be the first thing to soak up water that might run off our rain cover. Our sleeping bags are dry, but the dry sack is not. Everything in our bags is either in a dry sack or a dry liner. Pay less money for a non waterproof bag - but do invest the money in dry compartments for your stuff.

You'll be sorry otherwise.

Our tent is in three parts. Our footprint (the tarp which our tent sits on - specially made for our tent), our 90% mesh tent with poles, and the fly. The fly sits up at least 4-6 inches - and with the tent being mesh - this allows for a flowy and very airy tent. So far, I haven't been cold because of it, but you can get a strong breeze through it at times.

The thing about having a tent which is almost all mesh, is that setting it up in the rain can SUCK. Actually, let's recap our QCT walk. Day 1: no rain. Immediately after setting up the fly on tent, rain moves in. Day 2: Tearing down of tent in rain. We luckily had a cooking shelter at this location, and carried the tent over before packing it - to eliminate any unecesary water in the tent. The weather is wet all day, clears enough so that we can set up at night with it spitting, and have a dryish tent. Day 3: clearing in the morning that allows us to quickly strike the tent. Clear day. Dry set up at night. :) Starts to rain after we finish filtering water. Rains all night - once again (oh yeah, and it really was raining every single night, the tent was never dry when packed away!!) Day 4: Rain all day. Tear down in light drizzle, quickly. Rain, rain, rain. Special night (will explain), but the rain never let up. Day 5: Rain on/off all day.


Night 4.

It rained all day. ALL DAY. Almost like when we were on the AMC in Egmont NP and had to cross the flooded rivers. Just consistent rain. By the time we made Torea Saddle for the night, we had decided to spend a night in a backpackers depending on how much they cost. These aren't BBH/YHA hostels or anything - these 'backpackers' cater to a different crowd. We have the option on this track to forego the camping, so we figured if we set up in this rain, we weren't going to have a dry night, and we were already drenched and so was our gear. We're not here to be miserable, and if we were hiking to a hut, this would be a different story. Or if it wasn't such a wet winter. :)

So we have our options open. There are two backpackers at this saddle, so we trudge up their steep roadways to inquire about a night's accomodation.

First place. We knock. Again. Ring the bell. Nobody is home.

Second place. We walk up to the first house and a sign invites you to walk up concrete driveway or the walkway to the house to reserve accomodations. Done and done. Walk up the driveway. We knock. We knock louder. And louder. Nobody is home. See, at a hostel, you know someone will answer the door. It was deserted here. Strange.

So I decide that it would be nice to take the walkway back down to the road. The driveway was so steep, so the stairs along the house just seemed like a better option. I start to make my way down the stairs. Carefully, cause I had done something to my left ankle the day before and I was a little stiff/soar. So I take my poles in my left hand, hold the railing with my right hand, and walk down one step at a time.

I think it took me two steps, maybe three before I lost my footing.

Whoosh

Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, crunch.

Oh my goodness, kill me now.

I was in so much pain.

The walkway that you are invited to take is a death trap.

It was slick and dangerous as heck.

I fell down about 8-10 steps, with my 35lbs backpack on. My feet came right out in front of me. I'm lucky my bag didn't fling me forward.

My back hit each step on the way down. My left wrist cracked something fierce. The pain was sharp.

Barely able to make a sentence, I yell up to Brent not to take the stairs.

He hurries down the driveway worried about me, hearing the fall, but not able to see me clearly through the trees.

I get up as best as I can and grabbing on harder to the rail, try to make my way off this death trap. I wasn't going back up those stairs, but had to get down the walkway. I think I got down another two steps before hitting the next slick patch and falling down another 4 steps. Again on my left wrist and my back.

The pain was excrutiating. I just sat there. I didn't know what to do with myself.

Brent appears at the bottom of the walkway.

"Get off the wood Brent, it's not safe."

He turns around and heads off the walkway. I thought he was on the first step of the walkway, but he had another 4 steps to go. All I heard when he disappeared around the corner was a loud thud and him yelling.

He started down the steps and his feet slipped right out beneath him. Luckily, his head broke his fall when it met the tree.

I climbed onto the grassyish area and avoided the walkway as much as I could to finally make it off the trap. Made sure Brent was okay. He hit the tree hard but could walk. I could barely walk. I couldn't stand straight anymore because the pack would sit on my lower back where I hit the stairs. I couldn't use my left hand. We had no idea what happened to us.

And nobody was around. That was the worst part.

We didn't know what to do at this point in time. I didn't know if I could help set up the tent, nor sleep in it at night anymore. I needed to sleep flat or something, and in the tent, you share all your footspace with all the gear.

We walked to this portage resort hotel just down the road. I wanted to inquire as to who owned that backpackers we just destroyed our bodies at. I asked the first person we met, a driver for the hotel. "Her name is Alison". That'll be easy to remember.

I gotta tell you, something strange about the people in NZ so far that I've noticed. Here you have two people who just fell down stairs and are pretty injured. I'm limping. Brent's head is red. And if you even explain why you're limping, "we just fell down a flight of stairs", their reaction is "oh, that sucks".

Not "are you okay", "do you need to sit down"...."that sucks". That's not true, the receptionist at the hotel first asked if it was their stairs, then pretty much said 'oh that sucks'. Not their property, not their problem.

This was a resort. We weren't there to find out about staying there so much as finding out information about the backpackers that we just fell at. But since we were inside, we might as well as about their prices.

"All our backpackers rooms are full", was the first thing anyone said to us when asked about their rates. We didn't even know this resort had a backpackers option. It was a pretty fancy looking place.

At no point did anyone ever really answer our question about room rates. Instead, we scored a deal. The driver gentleman was chatting with the receptionist and wanted to see what she could do for us.

"I could charge you our backpackers rate and get you a hotel room". I'm not going to argue that in the least. We didn't ask for it, but I wasn't going to turn it down. At that point, we deserved a real bed and comfort, heat, maybe even a shower.

Score. A nice room overlooking the marlborough sounds. A room probably worth too much on a normal day, but at a cheap rate for us.

Our injuries. Brent had a slight headache. We had to watch him, because head injuries can be tricky. My wrist was feeling funny, but it wasn't broken. My back, well, I couldn't see anything wrong with it at first which almost bothered me. How could I be in this much pain if there was nothing there.

That didn't take long to change.

My back is now decorated with two large bruises. Both of which darken more with each passing day. Larger then the palm of my had. Just shy of my spinal cord. Exactly where my pack sits on my lower back.

Great. Tomorrow is going to suck. It's our last hiking day, and I'm possibly unable to carry my load any further. Our plan, if I run into any problems with carrying my bag, we return to the backpackers and wait until someone gets home - we will be getting a ride back to our car.

A nice long hot shower, an electric blanket heating my back, crackers and cheese for dinner along with granola bars (we sleep in luxury, but dine a la camping still). And then Brent discovers the hot water kettle.

Golden. That spaghetti dinner from night 2, that I opened before we confirmed that the stove worked, can now get its boiling water. Spaghetti in bed. That's what tramping is all about.


The next day's hike sucked. Brent's headache went away - so he was in the clear. My wrist was up and down all day. Actually, my entire left side was up and down all day from previous ankle injury, to my left knee acting up, and my left shoulder was terribly soar as I was walking off balance to try to keep my pack from rubbing against my lower back. When you walk awkwardly for 8 hours straight, it can't be good for your body.

But we made it. At the end, it was a bit hairy. Both of us were in a strange level of pain in the last hour of the walk, but we pushed through to the car. Five days in the can.

Drove back to Picton and picked up our gear at the hostel and jet into the town to enjoy our well deserved meal - burgers and fries. Delicious. We always try to eat a high calorie meal right off the track to boost up our energy level and make up for any lack of calorie intake on the track. Our last burger intake was at Burger Fuel in NP, and that is really going to be hard to beat. In Picton, my stomach was set on the pineapple & cheese burger, while Brent enjoyed a Bacon & cheese burger. We're trying to see, over the next year, who has the best burgers and fries.

Headed off to Havelock to spend two nights.

Not much to report from here. We spent the day yesterday on a day tramp in Mount Richmond Conservation Park. We wanted to explore some abandoned mines, but didn't get off to the trail early enough and had to turn around on the track before making the clearing or we would be hiking at night back to the car through a deer farmers field. No thank you. So we just kept it a nice hike up/down the hilly park.


Our bodies are definitely adapting well to tramping. We aren't soar (at least the same way) coming off the trails anymore (as we were in the beginning). Our bodies are able to carry the weight on our backs much more comfortably now, which is great. :)


Pros/Cons of the Queen Charlotte Track.

The one thing I would note about the track for sure is the ever changing floor. Most times it is a slick clay/limestone surface - which was never good for me. I slipped & fell on this crap a lot. In the rain or shine, I was on the ground. This caused me to twist my left ankle and cause irritation to my left heel and knee. You walk down a steep bank and without the weight to hold you down, you feet slip right out under you. Brent didn't have the same trouble as I did. Then there were parts of the trail where you walk through private property and the clay flooring was covered in pine needles. At times it felt more like I was walking on Ontario trails in the late fall then walking in New Zealand in early spring. Pine trees are non native trees, so you were probably walking through a logging/forestry company's property at that point. Then there were times where brown and yellow leaves would speckle the clay. Other times it was mossy. Rocks would break through the ground and you would have better footing on your walk. Ever changing. But that clay remained underneath.

Biggest con and what annoyed the crap out of us were the DOC signs and timings. This track is supposed to be timed for a "slow walker", which was great. Walking to the first campsite, we did it in 42 mins and it was supposed to take us an hour. So in the first hour of our five day tramp, we were very optomistic. But the timing is constantly fluctuating, one minute you're ahead, the next you're behind. Then you run into signs like 'camp bay'. Oh, camp bay. We remember that night very well. We didn't make that campsite until near dusk. Let's see - there was the 'camp bay 30mins -->' sign we saw. About 40mins later, we came to a junction. The junction clearly stated that the kenduru saddle we just walked from was 30mins behind us, but we found ourselves in front of a NEW sign for camp bay - this time telling us it was another 20mins away. Then you know what - the sign at the saddle should say "Camp Bay - 1 HOUR THIS WAY". The 30mins sign was wrong, the 20mins sign was also poorly timed, and in the end, you walk almost in an entire circle to get to the site, and there is a quicker way to the road that is not signposted. This was our 3rd night. We filtered water into night with the weka lurking around us. We dinned on dry noodles on the beach because even though it was dark on the beach, it offered more moonlight then the campsite which had a thick canopy overtop.

Con: getting injured OFF the track. On the trails, every time I've had a thought about "oh, nothing has really happened on this tramp, that's different for us", we run into flooded rivers or incur injuries off the trail. So, we've come to expect that tramping is always going to offer us surprises.

Con: the route markers on the QCT. Oh my goodness. The trail crosses paths with private roads and privately owned trails. You would think that when the main trail junctions with one of these private ones there would be a route marker or something to let you know where to go. Both tracks looking equally used and treaded on. But no, not on this tramp. We didn't have a topo map for this track, and even if we did, the private tracks aren't indicated on them, so you might not know which route to take. And on a straight part of the path, suddenly you'll find three route markers one right after the other. For no reason. It's not like you're not going to follow the curve of the trail, since your alternate option would be to walk off the side of the mountain. Just dumb. There's no other explanation. Random route markers, dumb.

Pro: Night 3 - eating dinner on the beach in the dark (not the best thing) but the view...gorgeous. The sounds silhouetted by the moonlight. The water calm and still. Moments like this make you appreciate the track, even if you haven't enjoyed the days preceding this moment. A hard day's tramping is always paid off by the views you attain. Looking out here, we're imagining what it will be like in the Fiords.


So overall, we gave the QCT two thumbs down for a multi day hike. A day hike - please do it, it's gorgeous, but only in good weather. But the campsites are nice and small, and at this time of year, empty. So it's enjoyable.

We leave Havelock today. We have really enjoyed staying at the Blue Moon Backpackers here, as we have met nothing but trampers. That's who stays in Havelock, people making their way to the trails in the morning. The first night, a group of 11 people were here from a tramping club. Last night, three men setting out for Mt. Richmond Forest Park in the morning (we're hiking this when we return to the north part of the south island in the late summer). People like us. We don't run into a lot of trampers at hostels, but when we do, there is a lot of talking to be had between us. Sharing stories and track information. It's wonderful. This is my heaven on this trip. This is what this trip is all about.

We head to Christchurch today. We will spend the next few weeks enjoying the east coast of the south island before staring 1.5 months of tramping in the Fiordlands before tramping season starts on October 28th, and then head down to Stewart Island for a 10 day tramp. We are ready to spend some time working on a farm, and hear there may be a lot of opportunities near Christchurch. It's all word of mouth. We met a farmer yesterday who was fixing fences on his property and joked about needing help. It got us thinking. It's time to play with the sheep on the farms, be a dairy farmer. :) We'll see.

A hiatus from overnight hiking to get ready for the long month to follow. Also, I can't carry my load on my lower back until it heals. Perfect timing. Better now then the first day of our Fiordland hiking.

We'll still do day hikes on daily basis, but they'll be shorter and without our larger packs.

Today, we will see the southern alps. I can't wait.


Side notes about New Zealand.

Rounding. It's like a game now. If you're price tallys up to anything ending in 5 cents and under, you are rounded down to the lower 10 cent bracket. Anything from 6 cents up and you lose up to 4 pennies. Yes, we're talking about pennies (which don't exist here - smallest currency is 10c), but it's all a game for us. I pump gas to 46.22, I know it'll only cost us 46.20. Somewhere down the line, we'll lose 2c and it all evens out. If you pay EFTPOS (debit), they don't round your money. Which leads me to believe Canada can truly get rid of the penny - because if they don't even have nickels down here and are making it work, we surely could lose 1c.

Weather forecast. Before setting out on the QCT, the weather forecast for NZ was LITERALLY "FINE". That's what the meteorologist said. The picture of the country in the background speckeled with icons of clouds, maybe two cities showing simply sun (south island, east coast), but 90% of the cloud icons were showing rain. Yet, the forecast is FINE.

That's NOT a forecast. Aside from the fact that it's all a lie, how can you stand in front of 90% rain and not really address it????

These people need weather people who aren't afraid to tell the truth.

You can't trust the weather forecasts before stepping out onto the trails. Our QCT walk was supposed to see only 2 days of rain - Thursday/Friday. It rained every day/night, with two days showing clearing at points.

Fine.

Go figure.