End of an Era

End of an era

Sorry for the long silence, excitement has been plentiful but sadly it was not the excitement of open horizons and wonderful friends.  Quite a bit has changed in the last couple months, and it all started with a Monday morning surprise meeting on the wind farm where management informed us that AES was leaving Wyoming and selling the contract to another wind company in a month.  Now getting laid off on a Monday makes for a shitty day, especially when you have 30 friends and coworkers who suddenly became your competition for a job that may not even exist for you anymore.  Needless to say morale on the hill was about as low as a pile of cow shit and managed to get lower as the “Transaction” (ie, the end of our job) date got pushed out farther and farther.  For 3 months all of us showed up for work not knowing if we would actually have a job that day.  As I was the newest wind tech it was initially said that I would not even be offered an opportunity to interview with the new company…  

I had to laugh at the thought of all the work and effort I had put into rejoining a civilized society that apparently wanted nothing to do with me.  I gave up Africa and lived in a horse trailer for 4 months so I could work in an industry I believed in just to have it all crash down on my ass.   It was only aggravated by seeing the wonderful pictures and hearing the epic tales from my friends still living the dream. 

It all accumulated in one horrid week.  Management had cut all the budgets they could limiting our pay, my car used a gallon of antifreeze in 5 days (leaking into the transmission even) and the summer had ended with snow locking out my mountain sanctuary into which I retreated for solitude.   Behind every problem was the thought that I had given up the horizons of the world for a broke down car and a job working for a company that viewed me as an minor expendable asset, a mere number buried under pages and pages of larger corporate concerns.  I was seriously wondering if I had molested a pope in a previous life and royally pissed off fate/karma/heaven.

Then one week it turned around, not completely, but after months of getting worse and worse some good luck finally came my way.   I heard of a job opening on another wind farm about 30 miles farther out, newer company and newer turbine, and was surprised by an immediate return call and interview offer.  I met with Seth and had the best interview of my life.  After months of working in a horrid environment with low morale I was surprised by his drive and will to accomplish something.  We shook hands and I received an offer letter a week later.  I literally signed on and gave my two weeks to my boss the day after my old company finally decided to hire me on full time (although they would still lay me off any day…).  

That being settled I rattled the old car into town one last time and bought a shiny new red pickup.  All the used cars I found were over priced and I really liked the thought of having a warranty for the next 6 years.  And it’s pretty :).   And so I have been driving my new pickup to my new job and have really enjoyed the reliability of both.  Work has been great, I haven’t laughed so hard at work since an eventful night in Atlantic City, NJ 4 years ago.  And the newer turbines truly showcase how far the technology has come in 15 years while the new company is awesome in the fact it has superb training and is willing to invest in me as an employee. 

And to cut the last tie to my wandering life, despite the silent protest of my camera and backpack, I signed a lease today.  Luckily I found a 6-month one; I still feel that a full year lease is too big of a commitment, especially with the cold wintery weather coming down off the mountains.  Last Monday it was 136 degrees warmer in Cairns, Queensland than it was where I now live…  Needless to say I have some misgivings to settling down and leading a normal life.  Despite the luxuries of civilization, hardly a day goes by where I don’t wish I wasn’t off swimming with sharks.

Balls Out Wednesday

 

Now I have to start this post with a disclaimer.  Up till now I have endeavored to keep my blog more PG-13 for my mom and people associated with my mom or her morals.  This particular blog post is not meant for my mom or anyone of comparable character or gets too uptight about life, religion or nudity.  This post is for people that have a bit of a sense of humor, who giggle at crude jokes and find anatomy parts humorous.  If you read beyond this point and get offended then it’s your own damn fault.  You have been warned :D

Needless to say no pictures accompany this post….

So I work with some interesting people as you might have figured out.  Tattoos, gun wounds and drug altered minds run amuck among the turbines.  I have ceased to be surprised by prison stories or personalities but today was more than my calm could handle and the incident had me laughing in tears.  My one coworker, I will call him Mr White to protect the not-so-innocent, made the statement that one of his testacies was significantly larger than the other.  During lunch.  I dissuaded visual proof of the statement indefinitely, or at least until we were finished eating. Even though throughout lunch his testicular phenomenon remained the butt of many jokes but luckily remained confined.  Scarily though Mr Orange admitted to coming in semidirect contact with the topic of discussion and of all descriptions described it as “being like a pillow”….

Upon finishing lunch a couple of other coworkers, once again named Mr Pink and Mr Blonde, pulled up where upon they were told about the phenomenon hiding in Mr White’s trousers.  With no reservations and throwing all qualms to the wind coming off Brokeback Mountain they jump out exclaiming that they needed to bear witness to the physical embodiment of Mr. White’s testicular fortitude with all the enthusiasm of a mormon missionary meeting an ignorant heathen. 

Unabashed and unconcerned to exposing his privates to a group of men (wearing hardhats and safety glasses. Proper Protective Equipment corporate calls it… )  Mr. White jumps out of the truck, and with the dexterity that belies such an extremity, hauled out both of this family jewels to the horrified exclamations to all whether we wanted to see or not.   Now I have seen some weird things.  Growing up on a ranch then living in Philly makes it pretty hard to surprise or offend me, but holy shit this thing had a personality of its own.  Imagine a 3-week-old grapefruit contained by a wrinkled paper bag that also harbors a normal walnut and you have a pretty accurate mental image.

How some people find testies attractive I will never understand.  

Mr. Pink and Mr. Blonde both jump back in case it is hostile while Mr Pink invoked His Lord’s Name in possible vain (If Jesus is to come back then it would be fitting if he started out as a single semen cell out of such a nut…) Then to make the situation stranger Mr. Blonde asks if he can touch it…  then escalates it by promptly exposing his own symmetrical smaller scrotum as if comparison was needed… 

Oddly enough the rest of the day passed without event.

Mountains, Marmots, Mooses and Moons

Friday after work and a quick shower I headed into Laramie where I restocked on some camping gear I had managed to loose over the last year.  I met Scott who owns Altitudes in Laramie.  Scott managed to gather and sell every piece of useful camping equipment I could think of down to the handiest of clasps that took me almost 2 years and 3 countries to find.  After a nice chat I stopped by the farmers market to pick up some Colorado peaches (infuse with tequila then make margarita :D) then stopped in Coal Creak for a beer and to look over my map to figure out where exactly I was going (of course later I would forgot said map in the car so I indeed had no idea where I was going) then headed out of town towards Centennial and the mountains beyond as the sun set out to meet me at the horizon.  I made it through Centennial and was near where I wanted to camp when I saw some cars pulled off the road then two huge bull moose who caused the traffic jam.  Pulling over and digging out my camera (packed in the middle of my pack, you would think I would learn) I got some cool pics of the two old boys then met a man who used to sell Caterpillar equipment to my grandpa’s old tractor/farm store in El Paso IL.  Small World. Taking off down the road I headed on to park my car in front of the 8ft snowdrift that blocked the road I had hoped would be open. 

I combined my water bottles and tossed my too-heavy pack (no sense being uncomfortable in camp!) on my back and headed off over snowdrift and hills just as the sun disappeared behind the towering ridge of Medicine Bow Peak.  A couple of miles in I ran out of daylight but managed to get some amazing reflection shots of the sun setting in the calm snow fed lakes.  I quick set up camp in the leeward cusp of some pine trees and dogwood willows near a clear mountain stream that soon disappeared into a 250ft snowdrift just to reappear in a glacier lake below.  After gathering some firewood I grabbed my camera and tripod and headed down to the lake where I found an elevated peninsula that afforded me beautiful views of the sun setting on my right and the moon raising behind a reflected thunderhead to my left.

I have seen some amazingly beautiful things in my life, but nothing like the Wyoming sky that night.  The more I live in cities surrounded by people and besieged by civilization the more adamant of an agnostic I become, but nights like that night, alone out in the mountains surrounded by nature at its finest shake and weaken my heathenistic convictions. 

After taking the photo I had waited 4 years to take I retired to camp where I enjoyed the sound and smell of a pine wood campfire while a small meteor shower gave me a hundred chances to wish for a better life. 

The next morning I woke and waited for the sun to warm my tent and night chilled toes.  A quick pot of water set to boil made breakfast of oatmeal and coffee while a marmot ate his own floral breakfast not 8ft away.  Once I had my fill of oatmeal I took my book and coffee (heaps of personality in and of its own) to where I could enjoy the sun’s warmth while gazing down on the aforementioned glacier lake below (odd to enjoy warm weather and get a tan not 20 ft from a massive snow drift)

Not ten pages in I hear a clang and turn to see George (the marmot) scampering from camp with his tail vertically swooshing with every odd step.  I go back to find that the little bugger ignored my left over oatmeal (I guess instant oatmeal could be an acquired taste..) and had chosen to eat my wooden spoon instead!  (How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood you ask?  Well I would now know for a fact that woodchucks do indeed chuck wood and can chuck said wood in alarming rates would be that the said wood would be wooden spoons) Insulted that George (who apparently has not evolved beyond a rodents culinary convictions) would rather eat my utensils than my food I went back to reading.

Soon after I did my dishes, washing and whittling the chew marks from my wooden recently woodchucked spoon till it resembled more of a stick than the spoon I had known.  I then grabbed my camera and headed out for a hike towards Telephone Lake where Mom and I used to camp when I was growing up.  For the middle of July and wearing shorts and a t-shirt I was amazed at how much snow was left in the mountains.  Each valley had its own drift, some up to 20ft deep with cavernous holes dropped out of them where the under laying stream weakened the underlying snow.  After half a dozen miles with frequent stops to dig snow out of my socks I made it to the peak above Telephone Lake.  Telephone Lake fed the stream where my mom taught me to fish over two decades ago.  15 years ago I brought my best friend, Joseph, up there to fish and we camped next to a tiny glacier lake that has a small open valley off one side and a jagged rock cliff on the other (with a cheeky little weasel living in an abandoned silver mine, but that’s a different story) A few years ago I revisited it with my great friend Jeff from Philly so he could see first hand the mountains I always talked about.

Fearing the distant clouds I slid/skied down (sledding in July anyone?)  and headed over the miles back to camp where I sat and enjoyed my book before the inevitable rain.  After a bit George came out of the undergrowth to say hello and I decided to make supper before the rain hit.  In a jiffy a pot of chili (not freeze dried- one of the many luxuries of a heavy pack) was bubbling away over the campfire.  Nose to the wind George came closer and closer and after I flung some beans out to him he came in even more.  Thinking of redeeming my culinary ego from the morn I put a bit of chili on my freshly whittled spoon and held it out towards him.  Sure enough George cautiously came up and ate off the spoon that yours truly was holding.  Impressed with my culinary achievement of taming the wild beast (added to the list of converting two vegetarians and getting a date with a particularly pretty yet picky lady a few years back) my exaltation was cut short by George grabbing the spoon and trying to make off with it yet again.  I decided that a culinary masterpiece must be prepared with all details considered and congratulated myself on preparing mine with apparently the most delicious spoon west of the Mississippi instead of one with less tasty timber.

Soon thereof the aforementioned clouds rolled in and started to rain so I retired with my book to my tent where I enjoyed the gentle tap tappity tap tap of the rain as I faded off to sleep. 

The next day afforded me the same routine (how awesome is it that drinking delicious coffee while reading a good book above a beautiful mountain lake is a routine?!) then I gathered up my fishing gear and headed off after the stream of my childhood.  I was amazed to find that its beauty and my trout catching abilities have not faded over the years and soon had a brook trout arching through the sky to land in the snow drift behind me.  Now proper (as in old empire british proper) trout fishing requires one to tie the proper fly, match that fly to the current insect hatch, then cast that fly on a light line on an 8ft handmade bamboo fly rod to land gracefully without the barest disturbance in front of a trout which then accepts the fly as an acceptable food source and a picturesque battle begins with arched rod and leaping trout.  Proper mountain trout fishing on the other hand requires one to crawl up on a turbulent stream on your hands and knees and drop in a worm on a hook (maybe with the smallest of split shots if deeper waters) into the narrow stream missing the dogwood willows while staying low enough not to spook the eagle-eyed trout (who do indeed have one eye turned to keep an eye for eagles who also find trout quite tasty)  If you avoid detection and entanglement then you watch your line for the barest hint of hesitation that signals a trout has taken your bait.  At this point there is no picturesque battle with arched rod, no gargantuan fish stories about leaping trout and line screaming off the reel into the clear water.  There is only the singularly heave that ungracefully launches the graceful fish out of the stream in the most uncivilized and improper manner. 

After catching about a dozen brookies, one from the inside of a snowdrift even, I headed back to camp where I enjoyed a hamburger since I released them all.  A few years back I lived off trout for a summer, which curbed my appetite for consuming them if not the thrill of catching them. 

As lunch cooked I packed up and said goodbye to George who came running to see what I was cooking.  I wasn’t about to question his herbavorism with hamburger so I shooed him away, shouldered my somehow not-much-lighter pack and headed back to reality.  It was a good weekend.

P.S.  The great times did not end there, Monday on my way into town I ran into two cyclists towing single wheel trailers.  I stopped to ask how the trailers worked since I thought about that heavily on my own trip across and found out that they were touring as many breweries between Brooklyn NY and San Fran as they could.  Chip and Dave were their names and rarely have I met more extraordinary men let alone in the middle of nowhere Wyoming.  I sent them back to my place to camp and headed into town to take care of business then headed home as fast as I could with a 12 pack of beer.  Getting home I learned more about their trip and themselves as we drank beer and I cooked supper for them.  Two pounds of pasta  not counting the sauce that encompassed 1lb of sausage, an onion, couple zucchini and squash and 32oz of sauce left just a little bit of leftovers for them for lunch.  The beer ran out and we moved on to whiskey as stories were told.  Chip had traveled South America and Africa where he worked for a research team for a couple months.  Feeding my own fascination with Africa he told more stories about the amazing continent I hope to visit soon.  Dave, from Illinois, lived the last year in Sweden where he has been studying.  Both exceptional men in all aspects of life and I was so glad to have them for the night.  Riding self-sustained across the country is a pinnacle achievement for them in a long list of other accomplishments that makes them such a rare individual.  I gladly call them friends even after such a brief meeting.  BikeBrewAmerica.com is their website.  They have a donation page so feel free to buy them a beer J

Cooked breakfast for them before work.  Pound of bacon, 18 eggs and assorted veggies and it all was eaten :D  how I miss the metabolism!

Cold Wind

                

Well I finally have rejoined the “Productive” society our great nation holds so dear, and I must say its not too bad.  As much as I miss the freedom and friendships that was the last year it is nice knowing that I have a place to sleep and plenty to eat (that I don’t carry on my back).  Last Friday I picked up my first real paycheck in over a year, and it was a good day indeed. 

So far work has been incredibly interesting, both in my coworkers and in all I have learned.  If Wind is clean energy then I would sure hate to see dirty energy.  I have been working on some of the oldest turbines in North America (hence the world) and surprised to find that it is more mechanical (engines and gears) than electrical work.  Changing oil, greasing gears and general upkeep fills up most of the day and I am catching on quick.  On simple fixes I am sent up alone and my tutor only comes up with me on more significant faults (of which I am quickly learning) With all the climbing and working on old equipment comes heaps of safety procedures and paperwork though, which is harder to deal with than the turbines but they say the paychecks stop if the paperwork stops.  I found two things unexpected in working in wind energy: the first being how much oil and grease the turbines require and excrete and the second is how hard it actually is to climb.  After the last year I had thought myself to be in pretty good shape, but climbing, 120ft, 160ft even 220ft straight up a ladder at 8200ft above sea level proved to be far more an endeavor than I previously perceived.  That and with the added weight of a 40lb safety harness and the occasional 2.5 gallon jug of oil makes it quite the challenge, one my coworkers are glad to pass off to me as the new guy, and one I gladly accept as I do any chance I can (yes they think I am crazy)  

On to my coworkers…  I wont give any details but I must say they are a fine bunch of felons.  The stories are only surpassed by the bullet scars and prison tattoos.  (ok, I think I am kidding about the tattoos.) But all being said, they have treated and taught me well and I will gladly work with them hundreds feet above the ground and trust them not to endanger me in potentially dangerous situations.  I enjoy every day of work and it is the perfect transition from being gloriously unemployed to earning a paycheck.  It is interesting working from the ground up, and hearing my seniors complain about management (they are very jealous of the soft toilet paper in the “executive” shitter)  

A bit on that, senior management in America’s corporations..  Coming back stateside I was greeted by a set of bills that I had been promised would be taken care of.  Ranging from a letter from a collections agency on the behalf of Verizon when I had not received any bill, any email, any correspondence what so ever in the last year concerning one last bill AFTER they had refunded me money on my last bill to a (#(*#$& dentist who wouldn’t submit any paperwork to my old insurance company I had spent many hours on the phone trying to take care of it.  Needless to say it made me miss Australia where the corporations are actually run FOR the customer, instead of being run by policies and hidden fees.  America’s business has gone so far away from where it began that it has hidden its own identify from itself, refusing to recognize the gluttonous voracious being it has become.  Maybe the same could be said for the society that fed, supported and subsidized such companies too…

So anyways here I am back to being a working member of America’s working class.  Not sure I would ever come back to this.  It honestly came down to a flip of a coin.  But I believe I made the right choice.  I am far happier than my social standing dictates (living in a horse trailer 50 miles from anywhere) instead of working and traveling the world, a professional hobo of sorts.  Hard to say goodbye to that life, and maybe I never will, but I have traded gaining friends and character for the chance to work on something bigger than me and myself.  In my travels I have been amazed at America’s voracious consumerism and how we can create commodities of the most amazing and precious things in life, and how people cheapen their lives and self worth to have a 46” TV that only shows show’s about other peoples fictional pathetic lives.  We have traded our self-esteem for shiny things that distract us from our lack of, prioritizing the things we own over the things that we owe ourselves.  Granted this a broad generalization, a few sentences characterizing a society, but it hits the mark when looking at our whole society and its actions.

And so I endeavor to re-establish myself for some good reasons in a society I left behind for all the right reasons and venture not to forget all the lessons I have learned over the last year.  I continue living on a meager existence (not much choice yet) but continue finding joy in the simple things in life.  Happiness does not cost money, and happiness does not come from other people.  If you really need more advice on being happy, you should really go read a Dr Seuss book.

All about enjoying the ride

Well I have made damn near a full circle, and for the third time in my life I call Wyoming home.  Granted right now home is a borrowed horse trailer (with luxurious living quarters) and it is a step up compared to my tent and most hostels.  I must say it is going to be interesting getting recivilized, working full time, having money, not carrying my worldly possessions on my back, and maybe even one day signing a year long lease on an apartment! (not sure I would survive that commitment right now..)  Wyoming is beautiful though, and I have been gone so long that I see it anew, like meeting an old friend, talking about old times but then able to go out and have new fun and adventures.  It is interesting to see how I have changed when so much here hasn’t.  My first day in the state had me helping vaccinate 300 head of yearling heifers then on the drive home I saw a small herd of elk as indifferent to my passing as the mountains themselves.   I look forward to relearning the trout holes in the streams and rivers of my childhood and seeing where the mountain paths take me as the man I am versus the boy I was. 

This Tuesday I reported in to work at a nearby wind farm, one who’s wind turbines I had chased cows and fixed fences underneath almost 15 years ago when I worked summers out at the ranch.  It is the perfect job for me, entry-level wind technician.  I will be the person that gets to climb 300ft up into the turbines to keep them greased and all the nuts and bolts tightened.  Over all this is the best way for me to learn about the wind industry and if I am a good fit for it.  At the very least it is nice to be closer to family and in the mountains I grew up in. 

I had a great job offer out on the east coast, near Philly, with a good friend who was a client of mine while I worked for Daktronics.  I even went so far as to head back to the east coast, to reconnect with friends there and to, I had thought, start a life with all the good things I left.  Once I got there though I quickly realized that I could not survive and be happy in the east coast society.  Everything I was happy to leave behind, the traffic and congestion, noise and sheer amount of people was once again starting to drive me crazy and I knew I had left for the right reasons, I was just not a person that could live on in a high-populated area without mountains and be happy.  So I spent the last of my money on a ticket west, said goodbye to my friends (again) and went to try to find a job either in Wyoming or Oregon, where I would be close to mountains and family and have the space to roam.  I ended up lucking out and getting a job offer in McFadden Wyoming last Thursday.  Which is good because that next Friday I was going to pack my things and drive to Portland where I was to try to find a bartending job and crash my best friends couch till I managed to get back on my feet and start a career in green energy.  And now I have a job, but it is 50 miles from town and rentals are hard to come by that far out.  Till I find a place (or give up and start commuting from town) I am living in a horse trailer 50 miles from the nearest single female with a full set of teeth, but where I have great fishing and hunting.  All about priorities.

It has been one hell of a year I must say.  Lots of good times, heaps of great times, and I can laugh at most the bad.  Considering all I have done and the friends I have made it has been worth it.  In the past year I have seen 13 different airports (many on multiple occasions!  The bartender at the margarita bar in DIA knows me by name) I have biked over 3000 miles, flown around 25000 miles, drove 5000 kilometers and went out to sea 12 different times.  I have dove to 36 meters under the sea and climbed 9548.98ft.  I have run out of money 4 different times (you don’t know stress till you are down to 50 cents in your bank account, 3 days of rent paid and only 2 days of food) and done it all on only $10,000 total.  Easily the greatest year of my life.  After all, Life is all about enjoying the ride.

The Way the Wind Blows

Well my friends the first chapter of my Australian adventures has come to a close.  I say it’s concluded because I simply ran out of means to keep traveling and timed my return stateside to surprise my brother for his 31^st birthday.  Yet, it is but the first chapter as I know I will eventually return to Oz, for a visit or for life has yet to be seen.  I said goodbye to my friends in Cairns in an epic goodbye party that lasted up to a few hours before I flew down to Melbourne.    In Melb’s I was fortunate to spend time with old friends from earlier in the year and had a great time catching up with great friends.  Then I said ado and headed to the airport that next morn on the 24^th of Feb.  I flew to Sydney then to LA then up to Seattle, which meant I could have a drink in 4 major cities, two continents (and hemispheres) in 24 hours.  After almost a year of traveling I landed back in the USA with 30 kilos of luggage that consisted of my life; tent camping gear, scuba gear, cameras, cloths, about $65 Australian, one hell of a hangover and not much else to my name other than a smile and priceless memories. 

Customs was a breeze and the flights were as enjoyable as possible.  Landing in thirty degree weather, wearing almost everything I own in a futile attempt to stay warm, including my fancy pants and straw hat, I awaited my friend Silva’s arrival to pick me.  I was pleasantly surprised when Silva and my best friend Joseph picked me up from the Seattle Airport after I had covered about 18000 miles in two days.  Having not eaten anything but airline peanuts for 24 hours, and not seeing these two guys in quite sometime, it was only natural we went out for a burger and a couple beers to catch up before heading out to my brothers place.  My brother was in his office finishing up some work as I walked in and said “G’day Mate”.  After a quick double (or triple) take he jumped from his chair in complete surprise.  Shannon my sister-in-law was very proud of keeping my arrival a surprise and we all sat up most the night drinking and telling stories, hell actually we spent the rest of the weekend doing just that.  I spent a great week with my brother and his family catching up with the midgets (Dom and Cal my nephews, 3&1) and helping with some projects around the place.  Dom and I did a pretty good job of staying out of trouble, at least from my point of view, and at the end of the week Shannon said I could come back anytime.  Perhaps my most impressive accomplishment to date.

Friday I caught a train down to Portland to spend the weekend with my best friends the Josephs, hard to believe we have been friends for 20 years now.   Love spending time with such great friends and amazing people.  Matt is training for an Ironman and so we went out for a little run.  While I made it 4 miles in the hills in decent humor (pretty sure my sweat was 40 proof after the night before) Matt was as polite as he knows how to be and never even broke a sweat.  Christina is doing great, working at a children’s hospital and if that wasn’t enough she puts up with Matt and completely loves her dog, a mixed breed mutt that looks like a cross between a donkey and a goblin.  (Sweet dog though, narcotic and incredibly dumb, but sweet.)

After the great weekend with some of my favorite people I caught yet another flight (5^th of the week) to Rapid City where I was greeted by my parents.  After spending the last 6 months half way around the world they were happy to see their favorite child, (yes Chief, I am their favorite) and we caught up as we drove back to their ranch.  The next week was bliss just relaxing with the parents and even spent some time with great friends of the family from Iowa who I had visited on my bike ride.  After touring the Black Hills I worked to rejoin the American culture.  Discovering heaps of mail, having to get a phone, and trying to figure out where to go from there took up what was left of the week, and that next Saturday my parents and I drove to my aunt and uncle’s ranch near Laramie Wyo for calving season.  350 heifers were due to start calving which means someone has to be up with the cows all night and day to take care of the problems that arise.  I had the ‘fortune’ to draw the 1am-4am check with my uncle Les, which basically meant that I could sleep from 10-12:45, then 4:30 or 5-8 am.  At best.  I now have a better appreciation for my brothers complaint about lack of sleep because of his boys, and decided if I ever have kids they are going to sleep in the barn…

The first week we pulled 7 calves and had to shove a 90lb uterus back in a heifer that had prolapsed.  Pulling calves entailed attaching straps to the unborn calves legs then taking an 8ft ratchet to slowly pull the calf out of the cow, not a pleasant experience for any of the parties involved.   The prolapsed entailed two grown men with shoulder length surgical gloves holding, shoving, prodding, pushing and cussing the uterus back into the cow, and then using a needle and string to make sure it doesn’t pop right back out.  Probably the most disgusting thing I have ever done or seen and I have seen some nasty things.  I often lamented that just a month before I was on a dive boat or on a beach in far north Queensland.  I often thought of how I should be living the tropical life diving the reef or laying in the sun with an umbrella in my drink.  How the mighty fall.

By the second week I was pretty worn out, 3,4, maybe 5 hours of sleep a night was taking its toll.  If I got 4 consecutive hours I woke up refreshed; amazing what the body can become acclimated to.  The night of the full moon two cows each gave birth to twin heifers as the coyotes howled at the largest moon in 50 years.  The next day was pleasantly warm as we went through the daily routine of riding through the cow/calf pairs checking for sick calves and cleaning up after the night before.  Sleep was a precious commodity and everyone snuck a nap whenever they could.  Free time after meals and before sleep was filled with NCAA basketball and card games.  Some good games of hearts and pitch were played with the last drink of the night or the first cup of coffee in the morn and it helped keep humor up.

After two weeks the big rush of heifers had calved so my mom and I decided to head back to South Dakota.  As I write this we are passing through Lost Springs, a town with a population of 1, on our way back to my parent’s ranch where I will spend the weekend before flying to the east coast.  Once there I will have to decide where and how I rejoin the civilized world.  Out east with great friends and a good job? Or out west with more friends, try to get a job in green energy, and where I can spend time with my family and be close to the mountains I love so much? 

Either way I know that adventure will always be a part of my life as I doubt I will ever become too civilized. Dear god how I have changed over the year, definitely grown up and learned how to take care of myself.  Between the bike ride, rock climbing, scuba diving and backpacking I have learned how far I can go and have yet to truly reach my limits.  Its amazing, every time I thought I couldn’t go any farther I have managed to gather myself and push myself beyond what should be possible.   I know without a doubt that there is not a mountain I cant climb, sea I cant swim, beer I cant drink, or continent I cant cross.  It is really as simple as believing in oneself. People look to gods or others to raise them up when all they need to do is look at their own two hands to push them off the ground.  We are animals, the same carbon flesh and bone as our canine friends, and despite all our pretty self-portraits it truly is just a portrait of an animal, of hungers and fears, of desires and dreams.  I guess this is something I always kinda known, but just finally acknowledged.  I know the contentment of a bit of sunshine and soft place to lay, the thrill of the hunt and enticement of a smile.  I don’t need any more than that.   What does life require but a few pounds of food, a horizon and a smile?

If I have learned anything in the last year it is that life can be fun with the decisions made, good or bad, and that no matter where you go there are amazing friends and beautiful sights just over the horizon.  As my good friend Capt’n Willi says “The difference between adventure and ordeal is purely attitude.”  In all my foreign travels I never used a padlock to secure either my laptop or wallet, and never had anything stolen.  Instead, I met amazing people and made great friends at every turn.  From Sam, Edan, and Marion in Melbs to the Swansons in Warrnambool and Robbie (this kid is crazier than I even) and Mike and Pia, Joep, Ana, Bec and Kai just to name a few.  It truly was a rare thing for me not to have a good friend around to enjoy life with. In 5 short months Oz became more of a home than many places I have lived; it is the people, how they love and laugh with each other.  The land; how it is so sharp, beautiful and deadly, with the mountains and seas that will take your breath away. While I landed stateside without much in material wealth, and about ten pounds skinnier than what is healthy, I do know one thing:  I have never smiled, lived or loved life as much as I have in the past year.

So it has been good, and it is not over for what I have gained in this last year is that I have learned how to live.  I know that I am living my life to the fullest and loving every second of it, and that is something that does not end with a plane ride.

Cheers to you my friends.  May you live forever, and I never die.

Just Add Water

So I survived the night in the mall, the cyclone ended up heading a bit south and no one got stabbed.  All in all it could have been much worse.  Come morning I volunteered with the Red Cross to organize and serve breakfast to all the refuges.  In honesty I really got to take a shopping cart and loot a grocery store for cereal and fruit (been a while since I had all the fresh fruit I could eat, one up for the cyclone) then helped serve breakfast.  Most people were thankful and polite but of course there were the required arsehats who complained that we didn’t have their favorite cereal or a bigger spoon. 

Soon after breakfast I was sitting with my friends waiting to be evacuated from the evac site when some news reports came in.  The reporter asked a few questions but was disappointed that I had nothing exciting to report on (wasn’t going to mention the stabby threat, the media would take that story too far)  and walked away muttering something about finding someone more interesting (my friends say it was more the lack of showering than being uninteresting) but shortly after they left the mall without an exciting cyclone story.

After that we went back to the hostel and were slightly disappointed at the shear lack of damage.  Here we spent 30 hours locked up in the mall with 3000 grumpy, annoying (quasi-stabby) people, plenty who didn’t know the benefits of deodorant, because of this massive storm that was suppose to wipe Cairns off the map and here we only lost a few branches.  The power didn’t even go out!

Farther down the coast though there was plenty of devastation, newspapers showed yachts 600 meters inland and harbors wrecked with boats and docks piled on top of each other. Cyclone winds had taken roofs, knocked over trees and flattened plantations.  It was the first time that inland Queensland had actually had to issue a cyclone warning, 200km from the ocean!

Later that day the rains started coming down in earnest and a couple of us went out wandering to see what damage was done.  It was cool to see the beach moved inland about 50 meters and the streets running into the sea.  It almost made up for missing the cyclone.  While wading the streets I ran into one of the instructors on Mike Ball who confirmed that the Spoilsport would indeed take off the next day. 

I returned to the hostel much happier and finished packing for my week on the boat and enjoyed a good curry meal with my friends from the evac center.  The next morning I swung in the MB office to confirm that the trip was on then scrambled the rest of the day taking care of last minute details.   I went to the office to fill out the paperwork and met Mike Ball himself, a tall Englishman who is incredibly nice and we exchanged some stories.  He walked across the UK with his brothers a few different times and enjoys cycling as well.  Finishing the paperwork I went and grabbed a bit to eat then headed to the boat.  As a Expo (short for expendable) my duties was to help out on the dive deck and in the kitchen as needed.  The dive deck was amazing, instructors Nick and Bec are amazing people and I learned heaps from them.  The kitchen was even more impressive.  Cook Kari, from South Africa, became a great friend and fed me anytime I looked hungry (easily gained 10 kilos in one week, 4 meals a day plus snacks.)   Helping out in the kitchen was the most surprising part of the work though.  When meals were done the whole crew, first mate and Trip Director included, scrambled to clear the dishes from the table.  In a matter of minutes dishes from 30 people were washed, dried, and put away in a massive scramble on everyone’s part.  It truly was cool to see how everyone pitched in, no who they were. 

On the dive deck I learned the most and had the most fun.  Bec is a very bubbly person, often called Dory from “Finding Nemo” or Tigger because literally she bounces everywhere.  Nick was a bit more laid back (poor guy would honestly be frightened by Bec’s and I combined cheerfulness at 6 in the morn)  Great guy though, very patient with my questions and went out of his way to teach me anything I wanted to learn.  The diving was of course amazing.  I would get two or three dives in a day (literally my only free time between 6am and 9pm) and would act as buddy for one of the guests or take Catalina the other expo out on dives.  My oxygen usage improved drastically as I only had one dive under 50 minutess and one over an hour!  As a large man, who spent hours cycling and building up my lung capacity to climb the mountains on my ride it was difficult to train myself to use as little oxygen (and energy) as possible.  Having a camera helped heaps as I would have to slow down and wait for the right shot.  It was an epic trip as I improved my skills immensely while learning and seeing so many new things.  I finally saw a lionfish, a couple nudibranch, two cuttlefish and swarms of new fish.  Of course there was the obligatory shark sightings too :D  It was so awesome that eventually I even gave up taking pictures of sharks because I had so many!  

Working the dive boat I also got to dive some new sites I didn’t see with Erin when we went out in Dec.  Our old favorites like Cod Hole were hit pretty hard by the cyclone with damage in the coral canyons where the waves would tear through devastating the beautiful coral.  Luckly most of it was undamaged by the natural catastrophy and as the reef has survived generations of cyclones it will rebuild and be beautiful once again.  The outer reef, Osprey Reef, was completely undamaged and the visibility was absolutely amazing despite the cyclone and rainy season.  A couple weeks before they even experienced 70 meters of visibility under the water, a truly epic experience! 

Working on the Spoilsport with such an amazing crew was an epic week, from legendary dives, learning heaps about the sea and its creatures from Bec and the workings of the boat from Nick, to being fed at every turn by Kari to the smiles and jokes from the rest of the crew I can honestly say it was one of the best weeks of my life.  One week without land, entrapments of civilization, an occasional cold beer and to be rocked to sleep by the waves of the Coral Sea is a memory that I will cherish for the rest of my life.  Leaving the boat was a sad day, it has been a while since I worked that hard but the rewards were beyond anything I could have expected.

Leaving the harbor I stopped in the brewery just to find that the manager I told I was taking a week off had left on vacation and the other managers scheduled me the whole time I was gone, and when I didn’t return any phone calls or messages they thought I had died.  Resurrecting my employee status I started work at 4 that day and worked every day for the next 9.  It was nice to have money and good to be around some old friends but life on land didn’t compare to the boat.  My new room had a couple old friends in it and also another expo from Mike Ball. Joep from Holland is a 18yr old dive instructor trying to find work.  Two nights we went out drinking with some other Mike Ball employees, had a blast then we all went cliff jumping the next day.  We went to the crystal cascades and jumped from about 20 meters, hope to get some pics back as one shot had a beautiful waterfall brilliantly lit by the sunlight blazing through a rainstorm.

Tomorrow is my last shift at the bar, and wed I catch a plane back down to Melbs where I continue on my adventure.  It will be nice to catch up with some old friends down there before I wander on.  It truly is amazing to see how many great friends I have scattered across the country in such a short time.

Cheers

Return to Oz

Landed back in Cairns to many friendly hello’s from friends that were still in the hostel.  I swung into the brewery to say that I have in fact returned and would love some hours to pay off all the fun I have had in the month since I worked last.  After a good nights sleep I set off to find a job on a dive boat applying for anything from a Dive Master’s internship to a galley slave.  I hoped to hear back from Mike Ball, by far the best dive boat in Australia, on a couple weeks worth of volunteering on the dive deck. But just in case that fell through I bought a 3 day trip on CDC Dive, a decent company specializing in day trips for backpackers, so not your classiest of companies.  The trip was amazing, I ended up getting my advanced certification for an extra $50 and saw and learned some cool things.  A couple turtles, a Woebegone Shark, several lobsters and some reef sharks made it a great trip along with learning more about dive computers, underwater navigation and especially photography.  I dove with Jesse from Vancouver, a great guy who skipped out a bit on a Hong Kong family vacation to do a quick tour of New Zealand and Australia.  We had heaps of fun diving and our last dive of the trip was epic as we saw turtles and got to chase a shark around for a bit!  We had Simone, a Swiss girl who just got certified with CDC with us on that dive and she played great shark bait to get the little reef shark to circle a few times :D (just kidding, she hid behind us as we chased the poor thing with our cameras)  Jesse used half a tank of 02 in about 15 min.   Overall visibility wasn’t near as good as what I experienced in December, but not bad considering the influx of fresh water from the floods.  The day prior my dive instructor actually saw a whole tree, leaves and all, come floating by the coral reef 20 meters down and 50 miles out to sea!

Because I spent 3 days on the boat I could volunteer to work on the boat for 7 more days come February as a backup in case Mike Ball Dive fell through.

Returning to shore I again experienced Land Sickness where the whole earth moves to the motions of the ocean.  It took a couple days to fade but always made me smile when it tried to trouble me.  I worked a few shifts at the bar then took off up north with almost a dozen friends to Cape Tribulation.  We all piled in two little clown cars and headed north.  At the first scenic overlook I ran into the Hassler family who I dived CDC with.  We played leapfrog at all the touristy spots heading north and ran into each other a dozen times over the next two days.  At one point they left a hello and their email written in the sand at the beach in Cape Trib.  On the way we hit Mossman’s Gorge, a normally raging river coming down out of the Tablelands to the coast but with all the rains it had swelled beyond recognition.  The current was incredibly strong as only the best of swimmers could directly swim into it without being swept away and the water was so refreshingly cold that it was the perfect stop on a hot tropical day.  A bit up rapids there was a spot where local boys were jumping into the whitewater and was swept downstream 50 meters over a small waterfall in a matter of seconds.  Without a second guess a bunch of us scrambled across and over rocks to get to the point where we could enter the whitewater and not be swept into other boulders.  Quite the rush really, amazing to feel the power of the water against the smooth rocks and how hard it is to reach the surface in the highly oxygenated frothy whitewater.  (the water gets so much O2 that your body cannot gain buoyancy).  Next we headed north to the Daintree River where we crossed without any croc sighting then headed north north east along the last road into Cape Trib.  Along the way we passed a fruit/tea orchard and saw a Cassowary eating fruit from the trees.  Cassowaries are quasi-prehistoric birds, larger than emu’s or ostrich with thicker legs, (think axe handles) and a wickedly evil looking dinosaur face.  They are actually the most dangerous bird in the world (Australia tops that list yet again) as they tend to disembowel ignorant tourists with their sharp talons.  There are only 200 left in the wild (more signs warning stupid tourists about them than there are actually birds) but that is due to climate and environmental changes and the fact that they try to play chicken with automobiles (remember, they are from an age where they are the biggest nastiest thing out there and never encountered a POME* behind the wheel)  We continued to head north to Cape Trip where the road turned to gravel and we went for a nice beach walk with the potential of deadly stingers on our right in the ocean and hungry saltwater crocs hiding in the mangroves on our left.  Beautiful spot for a family vacation, just keep dogs and small (wanted) children on a short leash.  Truly a great trip, and at that point one car headed back to Cairns and 4 of us who had an extra day took off to find a campsite.  We found one and pitched our tents (poor mike had to sleep in the car) then started cooking supper.  Since Malou Balou (real name, Parents must not of wanted her and not had any handy croc beaches available)  the significant other of Corey was a vegetarian (Vtarded as my good friend Jeff would say) I cooked a delicious curry with various healthy bits that I actually made taste good and we settled down to a couple voracious card games and a delicious bottle of $5 wine.  Sleeping that night was difficult in the heat and humidity but finally it calmed off and the giant bats quit fornicating in the tree above me (sounds about as you would think) and I got some sleep and the next morn we headed back south.  We were lucky enough to spot another Cassowary (198 to go!) on our way and we enjoyed a couple more beautiful beaches (all croc free :( ) and a cool nature walk where we saw a green dragon lizard (wicked cool for being 1ft long)  we decided a swim was inline and headed to Palm Cove where I ran into the Hassler’s yet again .  We enjoyed a swim in the stinger free zone then headed back to town.  As Corey and Malou got a little too touchy feely in the back seat (Corey was leaving in a couple days and Malou wanted to show how much she would miss him) Mike and I serenaded them with the best of the 80s romance music such as “Sexual Healing” and “Lets get it on”.  Poor girl didn’t have much of a sense of humor but luckily my mate Corey thought it was entertaining.

Back to reality it was trying to get as many shifts as possible and solidify when I was heading out to work on some dive boats.  Wasn’t all work and no play though, I bought a two week pass to Green Island where I can just jump a ferry then spend the day snorkeling and laying on the beach.  Cool area, poor visibility in the water but heaps of life.  I saw everything from a Titan Triggerfish to a gigantic Potato Cod to heaps of turtles, stingrays, clown fish and reef sharks.   Not a bad way to spend the morning before heading to work J

After a full weekend of working I got ready to head out on the Spoilsport with Mike Ball Diving, only worrying about the cyclone due to hit Cairns.  Cyclone Yasi (translates to God’s Will, horrible Christian pickup line)  started out a CAT3 but eventually built up to a CAT5 with winds possibly reaching 300Kmph and covering an area just slightly smaller than Texas.  I planned on sitting it out at the brewery  (always go to the pub in an cyclone, tornado, or zombie apocalypse)  but a bunch of friends from the hostel decided to play it safe and be evacuated to a mall inland a few miles (Never ever give into peer pressure!!!) so as a result I am writing this while surrounded by 3000 other temporary refuges that had no better place to go.  It is interesting to see how humans react in such a circumstances.  I am amazed to see that 95% of the people in this mall are handling it very well and even helping out their neighbors.  I had one aboriginal couple give me an orange (apparently I look hungry) and we had a nice chat.  Sadly the other 5% tends to be so decrepit and so nasty that they barely deserve to be classified as the same people.  I have seen one and heard of two circumstances where aboriginal women have threatened (usually white tourists) with getting all stabby stabby over something as simple as a couple feet of floor space.   How someone could be so inhuman when surrounded by so much goodwill is amazing in the most deplorable way, but as of yet myself or any of my friends have been stabbed or are in immediate danger of being in a stabby situation and we are simply trying to get some sleep. 

Human factor aside the cyclone is FREAKING AMAZING!  The wind is blowing so hard that the glass and walls are vibrating in so many different notes producing anything from an F sharp to a D flat (musician stranded here too) and everybody flinches and retreats with every musical outburst.  My friend Anita has been interviewed by a Danish new station (a pic of us is going to be in there paper, first time for me getting in the paper in Europe) and we pretty much spend our time playing cards or watching movies (when the power is on) and hoping that any new neighbors know the benefits of antiperspirant. Could be worse, but then again if it wasn’t for peer pressure I would be at the brewery J

Still its worth missing out on massive amounts of free beer just to see how people react in this refuge style of environment.  Kudos to the local government though, on short notice they managed to provide food (C rations mostly. Severely children managed to steal cases from them when the initial rush for food started) to 3000 people and bedding and mattresses to the disabled and many without.  All in all it could be a lot worse, I have my tent (not set up because it made Mrs Stabby Abo all sorts of jealous) and a weeks worth of food and literature and some good friends around me. 

Tomorrow this will be a great story, windows may break (wonder what note the glass will hit before it shatters?) but I have everything I need to keep myself and my friends in good humor and health.  Friday I should board the boat heading out to the reef and life goes one.  Just a bit of wind and rain when you really think of it.

Cheers.

*POME (Pomey)  stands for Prisoner of Mother England, what the aussies call people from England.  Usually in the context of “Bloody POME Bastard”

New Zealand

After posting my xmas note I joined a epic Christmas party at the hostel.  In sharing the Christmas spirit we ended up getting a little rambunctious and had a noise complaint called in from the neighboring hotel, at 2pm.  Swimmers and Santa hats were the appropriate attire for our party and everyone had a great time around the pool.  My Canadian friend Robbie was in rare form and truly an avatar of the party gods as he brought cheer and shots of jager to all around (I think it may become a tradition).  By 4 we were eating delicious Kanga and mashed potatoes I managed to put together and by 5 Erin and I snuck of to the airport to catch our redeye flight to Auckland.  Sleep was impossible to come by and I landed with only an hour and half nap.  A couple calls home for Xmas and we went off to find our hotel and visit Auckland.  After dropping our bags off we went for a stroll and found the White Lady, restaurant via old school bus.  I had the White Lady burger, a delicious decadent sandwich incorporating a hamburger patty, sirloin steak, two types of bacon, onion, fried egg, and pineapple.  The ultimate breakfast!  Properly fortified against the day we took a ferry to Ringatoto Island, a dormant volcano just outside Auckland and hiked up and around.  It offered some beautiful views of the city and surrounding island, a nice hike even with the jetlag.  Coming back to Auckland I took a much needed nap before heading out to supper.  A craving for Chinese food was much harder to satisfy than you would think and it took a good hour or more to finally find one that wasn’t too scary but the food at Imperial Garden was by far the best Chinese food I have ever had in my life. 

The next morn we caught a bus to the rental depot where I discovered that I managed to rent a brand new, 6 berth camper (3 beds, full kitchen, 3 different dvd players) for a meager $5 a day (comes out to $3.45 in USD)  Enjoying the fact that my luck was back in full force we took off heading south and managed to get to the Shire just as the rain started to fall (luck didn’t stretch that far).  Yes folks I turned my NZ adventure into a tour of Lord of the Rings.  What’s the point of traveling half way around the world if you cant satisfy your inner nerd?  The area around the Shire is truly what you would imagine with soft rolling hills, pine-covered ridges on the horizon and a gentle atmosphere to the place.  If you are really curious the Shire is outside the town Matamata on the north island.  Nice people there too.

Continuing our LOTR adventure we headed south around Lake Taupo to Tongariro National Park, where they shot the scenes for Mt Doom and Mordor.  Sadly heaps of rain and 135kph winds kept us off the mountain and hid the horizons.  Having to meet a deadline we headed south to wine country and on to the Kiatoke Park, where they shot the scenes of Rivendell.  Sadly the scene wasn’t as impressive in real life as it was in the movie, CG goes a long way, but it was a cheap camp and beautiful area.  Later I cooked a delicious curry with heaps of suggestions and advice from Erin then settled down and gave the night over to the ducks and hedgehogs wandering around the campground.  That next day went on several hikes that used swing bridges and here I discovered Erin’s unfounded fear of bridges, especially bouncy ones.  Of course I was a perfect gentleman and didn’t provoke or deserve any of the nasty names she called me while trying to cross them.

The next morn we loaded up the beast (what I started calling our camper) and headed into Wellington to catch the ferry to the south island.  A nice quiet drive except for the wicked wind that kept trying to blow us off the road.  As comfortable as the Beast was, it kinda resembled a big kite and acted accordingly which is quite entertaining especially on windy, narrow mountain roads.  Once on the ferry it was nice to relax and catch up on some reading while we crossed to the south island then from there we took Highway 1 south towards Christchurch.  Now I know New Zealand is not very populated, but Hwy 1 was the busiest highway on the south island, and yet they still had single lane bridges….  One lane bridges without stop lights, just simple yield signs on the most used highway.  Interesting country, and definitely entertaining.  The drive south was beautiful though; we cooked supper in Marlborough wine country, dry hills with green vineyards rolling into the mountains on the horizon.  A little later we reached rougher country and the road was cut into a narrow area between rocky mountains and the blue waters of the south pacific.  Camp that night was an empty gravel lot miles north of Kiakoura with the southern stars blazing overhead as the waves crashed the surf just ahead of us.  We took some amazing pictures of the sunset and following sunrise but it was Erin who took the winning shot of a mountain that perfectly resembles a boob (and here she calls ME immature and then goes off and takes a picture like that)

Off with the rising sun we continued down to Christchurch where we switched the Beast for a tiny little Nissan, definitely a step down.  From there we headed south to Oamaru where we enjoyed seeing penguins waddle in from the ocean then grabbed supper at a Turkish joint. The next day we drove across the whole country to Milford Sound (really only a 4 hour drive) and checked in at the local lodge for New Years Eve.  We sat in the lodge and sorted pics and plans then went for a short hike down to the sound where we got some great pics while getting eaten alive by sandflies.  People will tell you that one of the great things about New Zealand is that there is nothing dangerous there, no large hairy carnivorous beast, no little spiders with venom dripping from their fangs, and no snakes what so ever, harmless or poisonous!  But they do have sandflies… Not an even trade for New Zealand, I would rather have bears, bugs and nasty slithering things than to deal with those nasty flies again.  They manage to crawl into your cloths and bit places that have never be exposed except in the most private times. 

New Years Eve ended with a delicious meal of fajitas and several bottles of wine and woke to a sunrise that led to a wonderful and surprisingly beautiful New Years Day.  We got up early and waited for a shuttle into the sound where we went kayaking.  Ben our guide was quite the adventurer, surpassing even myself.  He spends the year chasing the summer between Canada and New Zealand guiding for kayaking and white water rafting companies.  The day prior he went for a run along the Milford Track, a 40km track that goes over one fairly large mountain and takes most people 3 days to cover and here he just did it in one for shits and giggles.  The year prior he completed the Kepler Challenge, a 60km race with over 1500 meters of climbing over Mt Luxmore.  We nicknamed him Capitan New Zealand.

 The kayaking was absolutely amazing, when we set out there was the slightest of breeze, not even enough to keep the sandflies away.  Once we were properly garbed in thermals and gortex we escaped the flies to the safety of the water.  Paddling to a synchronized tempo and showing teamwork that defied the prior week of planning discussions and ensuing arguments Erin and I paddled our kayak through the mirroring image of the rugged mountains that jutted straight up out of the glassy surface and reflected in the pristine waters.  We started out paddling out to and underneath a roaring waterfall so powerful the mist engulfed all visibility long before we reached its base.  Smiling and damp from the falls we followed the vertical cliff of the adjacent mountain to a small stone beach where we had mid-morningsies tea and sandwiches.  Leaving the beach we fought a brisk wind that came with the morning heat to get into the middle of the sound.  Lined up with the wind and the harbor we hoisted a makeshift sail with the 2 other couples in our group and let the wind blow us home.  This worked great for the first three quarters of the way till the couple on the starboard side of our makeshift catamaran drifted too far and tried to correct to hard and tipped.  In the next 30 seconds they managed to pop out of the kayak and hold onto the upturned craft as Erin and I untangled from the remaining kayak and latch onto stray paddles.  The next 20 minutes was spent trying to paddle back into the wind to get to where Capt NZ was righting their kayak and getting them loaded back in all upright and above water, Erin and I almost capsized ourselves in the meter/meter and half waves.  Grouping back up with everyone pointed the right direction we paddled back to the harbor not trying the sail again.  Later that afternoon we went for a quick hike to the Chasm, just outside Milford Sound.  The Chasm is simply one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life. Water and rock raging against each other to create such subtle and smooth beauty.  Over the rivers life it’s iridescent turquoise water has ground and smoothed out the rock canyon walls creating the simultaneously soft yet rock hard curves and contours that exceed the beauty of any human.

It truly was a great way to start the New Year though, kayaking through what many people consider the most beautiful place on earth.

Heading back to Te Anu the next day we pitched camp at a Dept of Conservation campsite outside of town then headed in to restock and check out town.  Here I discovered that I booked our four-day Kepler hike (yes four days to do what Capt New Zealand ran in one) three days later than I thought I had, and had to reorganize the rental cars.  A couple hours and everything lined out later we returned to camp to find two very weird old men trying to steal our campsite.  One was quasinormal looking, but his mate (in how many senses I don’t want to know) was a weird looking guy with a goofy smile on his face usually reserved for a drunk, simpleminded, or butt-ass naked person.  Considering all he had on was a red and black wool coat and winter boots I am guessing that he hit all three.  I asked them to move so I could park my car in my campsite and eventually they got the idea that we were not interested in sharing our campsite took off.  Camp that night was on par with any 5 star hotel as the tent was pitched on a good four inches of moss making it the most comfortable bed I have had in a good six months.  With three days to spare we headed up to Queentown where we enjoyed a bit of civilization. Erin went shopping and I hit a few shops, and finding the same things for sale there that any other city in the world has I got my book and sat and enjoyed a pint of beer and read outside of a pub near the harbor.  The next morning Erin went and jumped off a bridge (not at my request!!!!) and got some great pics from the bungee jump.  Afterwards we headed north towards Wanaka hitting some nice historic towns along the way then coming around a bend we saw a beautiful winery set on the other side of a deep jagged chasm cut over the years by a still raging river.  Chard Winery lived up to expectations and was well worth driving a couple kilometers on a one lane road precariously cut into the chasm wall.  Leaving there we headed down the road and pulled into another winery. Waitiri Winery is set up in an old Presbyterian church but followed a different doctern now (Mom was excited to hear I went to church till she found out the details).  Jason the owner gave us the tasting himself, and I have never learned so much about wine in so short of time.  I ended up buying a Riesling, drier than what you think a Riesling would be, but one that would pair well with curry or spicy food.  After this tasting I figured that neither of us should operate a vehicle for a bit so we had lunch (bacon, hard boiled egg, sundried tomato sandwiches) before continuing on to Wanaka.  About 14 km from town I stopped and booked a campsite at a strange little holiday park then we continued into town.  By this point we were both tired and I was a bit hungover from the wine tastings so we got some groceries and headed back to camp.  The campground was a dual use park.  The middle was a cricket field but outside game days they ringed it with tents and campers for a measly $5 a person.  Paid to keep the grass mowed I suppose.  

The next morn we headed back to Te Anu to start hiking the Kepler Track.  We got to town just in time for it to start raining.  It continued through the night and into the morn so we decided to shorten the first days hike and sat inside and drank wine and watched a movie before taking off in the afternoon.  Three hours of hiking in the rain we came to the first camp, Brod Bay next to a nice little beach on Lake Te Anu.  Under the rain shelter we met Franklin, a shy boy doing the hike alone.  It turns out that he was in Antarctica helping his professor on a seismic study and in NZ on his way home to Missouri.  After 30 min he finally looked up from his book and said hello.  Shortly after, whistling came through the trees and into camp came a Russian couple.  The girl was nice, had a friendly smile, but the boy, 6ftish thick glasses and wearing a “Top Gun” cap and was pretty annoying.  Sadly all conversations from him centered around his superiority complex.  First he went into how he went to grade school in Seattle and how much better the schools were in Mother Russia and how many Nobel Peace Prize winners came from his school and how horrible our schools were and how much better his were.  To make it even more engaging he spoke in a spectacularly monotone, robotic voice.   He quieted only when I pointed out that with all his science and superior schooling I was the one who got the fire going after 24 hours of steady rain.  Finally he went to bed and I got to make some jokes about the cylon invasion coming from Mother Russia.

The next day we started climbing Mt Luxmore, 1000 meters above Brod Bay.  5 hours of climbing 5%-10% grades with 40lbs of pack on our backs but finally we broke the tree line and all of the south island opened up below us.  Cold wind cut across my smile and brought fresh air to my lungs and I felt the euphoric that only comes from the mountain air.  A little while later we made it to Luxmore hut, home for the night, a little after one in the afternoon.  Dropping my pack to the floor I felt that I might actually float off the ground without the weight on my back.  After resting for a bit we headed for a short hike to a nearby cave.  Returning after enjoying the glistening rocks and stalactites we started supper.  Vegetable curry with the Riesling from Waitiri Winery made everyone jealous in the hut and I was very glad to be rid of 5lbs that it made in my pack.  After meeting some very nice and interesting people we went to the bunkroom where 50 of us stretched out on mats in wooden bunks and slept just to wake to the cold of a mountain morning.  After a breakfast of leftover curry we took off hiking up to the summit then 14km along the mountain ridge often with the steep mountain dropping off to both sides of the 2ft wide track giving us breathtaking views all around.  Even though we spent all day walking along the tops of mountains the views never ceased to get better.  From watching tiny sailboats in the lake where the mountains meets the water to loosing sight of the earth for the clouds climbing the mountains side I felt the freedom of heart and mind that only mountains bring.

That afternoon we descended off the mountain ridge to Iris Burn camp where we exhaustedly pitched camp and cooked supper and enjoyed the company of Erin and Eli, two wonderfully nice Coloradoans traveling the world on their honeymoon.  Two wonderful people, the type that reaffirm that the world is full of good people.

With the rising sun the next morn Erin and I made breakfast and broke camp.  While we didn’t have any more mountains to climb we still had over twenty-two kilometers to cover before we attempted to get a ride back into town.  Sore legs from the last three days slowly warmed up and stretched out and we made great time on the first 16 kilometers where we hiked through mossy rainforest spectacularly lit by piercing sunlight filtering through the thick canopy.  Truly the only way to make you understand the beauty is to say that it could have very well inspired the set for the movie “Avatar” That afternoon we stopped for a quick and very refreshing swim in a wonderful lake.  Refreshed and with a quick meal we covered the last 6 kilometers with as much grace as possible, although Erin was so tired she didn’t even have the energy to worry about the swing bridges we had to cross.  We finished the hike at Rainbow Reach, a tiny nondescript gravel parking lot.  After a drink of water and a handful of nuts I took off hitchhiking to town to pick up the car.  A couple more kilometers down the road I finally got a ride from a nice group of Kiwi’s that Erin solicited a ride for me back at the parking lot.  We finished up the day enjoying air-conditioning and a nice simple drive up to Queenstown where we camped for the night.

In Queenstown we picked up a Wicked Campervan then went out for a well-deserved meal.  That night I woke up wheezing and coughing as the campervan was so moldy that it caused an asthma attack.  After climbing into my tent I managed to get some sleep.  The next morning I canceled the campervan and kept our current car, although I am still fighting with Wicked on getting my money refunded.  Taking off from Queenstown we headed north towards Fox Glacier.  Finding the main trail closed we continued on to Franz Josef Glacier where we went for a nice hike up to the base.  It is a unique glacier in the fact that it is actually growing instead of receding. 

Staying in a holiday park not far from there we headed back to Christchurch and stayed at the Jailhouse Hostel.  This hostel up to ten years ago was a functioning prison, and since most backpackers are only slightly more civilized than convicts it was an easy conversion over to a hostel.  In all honesty it was a great hostel, clean and well lit and not near as creepy as you would think.  Luckily they had the solitary hole well locked up as Erin threatened to make me sleep there. 

Sadly the next morning was one of goodbyes as I flew back to Cairns to continue my diving and Erin flew back to Melb’s to catch a long flight home to the real world. Good byes don’t get any easier even after all the practice I have had this last year.

Back in Cairns I set out to get myself on some dive boats and get back on the reef.  I swung in the brewery to let them know that I did in fact return and would love to get some hours in to pay for all the fun I have had and hope to have and now I am waiting to hear which boats I can get some work on.  Cross your fingers for me as I hope to spend most of February out on the water!