Patarau Family Trip

Ok this one is unedited! The library I'm at is about to close so I'm posting it au naturelle. Get ready for some caving partying good times at Patarau!

The road turned from pavement to dirt at its Northern zenith in the Golden Bay. I was now driving south on the west coast of the South Island. The destination was Patarau Family trip of the Nelson Speleological Group. I was told that a bunch of cavers from all over New Zealand would be there to cave, kayak, waterslide, and have a general good time. Driving down the dirt road the rain forest turned to paddock land. Holes started to become visible in the sides of hills. Large limestone rocks were scattered about the country side like huge scoops of ice cream that had fallen off their cones. This was undoubtedly cave country.

I pulled into the paddock and parked the Oddity next to Leo’s urban assault. Leo is a caver from Nelson who has retired from his contracting business and has been outfitting a camper to go to Australia. This camper is a utilitarian beast of a Nissan.

Getting out I saw that a truly enormous camp was going in next to me. Leo was in the process of setting up his hot tub and the rest of the family was setting up tents. Little comments were going from person about how they were setting up tents improperly and the usual ribbing of a family that is truly happy to be in each other’s company. This was the Patarau Family Trip. Pretty soon people from the NSG, CCG, MSG, and west coast started showing up. Kids were running around playing and Leo was looking at a hill with a gleam in his eye. This hill would be transformed into a waterslide. A bunch of us took an old plastic NZ rugby sign and laid it out on the hill. After staking it down we proclaimed the job done. I then helped Leo and his people fix and fill the hot tub.

I was a bit winded after all the work so I sat down. No sooner did I do this than I felt a cool sensation slide down my neck. A Tui beer landed in my left hand and a smiling Leo walked by me to the next chair. Not a bad way to start the trip.

Soon friends like Kevin and Jane showed up and tents started going up. Jane has me in gentleman training for the benefit of Ellen upon my return. She made this all too clear when she got there and said “woman carrying heavy fruit over there.” I was obviously supposed to take the hint and help carry the fruit. This sort of ribbing was starting to work and I went around helping people put up tents and move kayaks.

Dinner the first night found me cooking some mac and cheese over a small cook stove. From across the paddock I heard the voice of Kevin yelling “Dan!” I walked over to be greeted by a grinning Kevin with some fajitas. After scarfing that down I helped Kevin with the dishes.

After a long day of driving I went to the Oddity and promptly passed out. The next morning I woke up and went to find Jane. A rule of thumb is that if caving is what you want to achieve, find Jane. I did this was rewarded with a trip going out to a couple of caves within walking distance, Tunnel cave and Little cave. Tunnel cave was much like a big straight tunnel though a mountain. Little cave was a highly decorated cave that was much longer than Tunnel. Sam and Bridge, a couple of newish but highly skilled Nelson Cavers came along with one CCG member (Name escapes me, Andria?).  The trip was great and had lots of fun squeezes and very pretty entrances.

We walked back to the camp to find that the water slide was in full swing. I saw Leo coming down surrounded by a bunch of laughing children. Immediately Jane said oh I want to try that and we went running up the hill. Adults and children alike were partying on the waterslide and those who weren’t doing were having a very good time watching. Again Kevin called me over to have dinner with him and the kids, chicken tikimasala.

I found a guy named Tom from the North Island who was keen on Geo Caching. I had a geo coin that needed a home from home so I went with him. We walked out to the lake and found the geo cache. Enter the MSG.

The next day I woke up and started walking around and saying good morning to everyone. Much to my surprise there was a North Carolinian! We talked about home for sometime and I moved on to find Tom and the MSG again.

I found them and we got to talking about caving. They invited me on their trip for the day. It was a cave called Crieghton’s up near the Patarau River. This was a “dry” cave, which in NZ means you don’t HAVE to swim. The cast of characters going through the cave reminded me of home. There was a new caver, Caroline. She was competent but needed help with certain things. A guy named Collin had the map and was made game of as is customary of a path finder. Jean (I think) had a Petzel ayrian carbide lamp. It was a really good lamp and I’m seriously considering buying one now. Paul and Tom were going on in a witty hilarious banter. Ivan was the strong silent type that didn’t talk unless he had something to say; nevertheless he was quite humorous.

Adding myself to this band was a really fun plan. It reminded me of caving with VPI with the ribbing and humorous conversation. We were leaving the cave and everyone else was buffoon sumped at a climb. I realized I needed a bath so I went under which involved a horrible duck under in a stream. Coming out of the water on the other side I felt much cleaner and got the satisfaction of surprising Collin. I didn’t realize it but this won me some street credit around camp later.

After coming back Collin was approached by his wife who told us to go get mussels from the beach. We had a couple of dark beers and went to the beach. As the tide went out on the limestone rocks, a huge colony of blue-lipped mussels was revealed. We took a bunch of the biggest ones and jumped around on the rocks looking at cool fish and formations.

On our return Kevin had a steak waiting for me. I had a good time talking with him and the kids about their day. As we were eating a procession went up the hill from Leo’s campsite. Leo and a bunch of kids were taking cardboard cutouts up the hill. This was the sunset brigade. The cutouts made silhouettes against the sunset. They were things like kangaroos and the Sydney Opera House. Leo was getting ready to go to “Oz” so he was doing this for the last time for a long while. Over the years Leo and the kids have done such scenes as the Mad Hatter’s Table and the evolution of man (ending with the caver) against the sunset. He came down with a tear in his eye as the kids played around the silhouettes.

The next day I went with the MSG cavers again. The cave of the day was Prouses cave. The map we were given was defective and we ended up going up the hill and entire wrong valley. This being Patarau we actually discovered a very old and pretty cave that had not been discovered. We didn’t bother doing too much there and went back down the hill to Prouses.

Collin and Jean found the lower entrance followed by Ivan, Tom and me. In the words of Alex Booker, Tom and I had a lot of quit in us. When we got to the cave this was replaced with zeal for caving as we went through this wet but cool cave. As we were walking up the borehole Ivan kept saying “Collin! The cave is bidirectional.” The rest of us found this really funny. When we got to the upper entrance it was raining so we went back in the cave. We went down the cave and found a huge ceiling passage. We all split up to get through the breakdown. Every caver being experienced, we got up through it using separate routes. We knocked around up there for a while looking at glowworms.

After a while we decided it was time to go home and left. The sea was getting up as we went back to the car and salt was blowing over everything. When we got back I went to eat with Kevin yet again.

All this time I though I had been taking and giving nothing back. I was thinking what I could give all these people that had shown me such kindness. I realized I had something awesome to give! I whipped out my sax and walked to the fire. All the kids came over and were requesting a bunch of songs ranging from “You Are My Sunshine”, which is Grandma Patsy’s favorite song, to Adele songs.

Then Moira came over. She is an older caver from Christchurch and she told me how she had been to Luray caverns and how she had loved the Valley so much when she was there. She wanted to know if I could play “Shenandoah.” I played it with variations for about five minutes. She really seemed pleased with me after that. All the kids were sitting around requesting songs for about an hour and a half.

Then Deb, wife of Oz the president of the NZSS, said we might have to be on alert for a rescue. Uh-oh. We got all ready to go up to Bulmer cave where some cavers had gone through a hole that had sumped out. I was very impressed with the way the NZSS cavers handled the situation. The organization was really something.

The next morning the farmer came down from his house to tell us that they got out on their own. This was also the last day of Patarau. I packed up and offered to have Tom ride out to Collingwood. We geo cached our way out to the farewell spit where the MSG cavers and I went for a nice walk on the beach.

Leo’s last Patarau was an experience I’ll not soon forget. Kids running around, awesome scenery and caves galore was the order of the day. Now I’ve got itchy feet and I hear there’s a job on the North Island for me. I wonder if the Oddity floats?

Bike Trips in Queenstown

Get ready for some adrenaline in this new season of Kiwi Adventures. No hernia, no pain pills, no fear! We’re down here rocking out on the far side of the world with some Krazy Kiwis. Petting furry aquatic mammals, taking pictures of Ferguson tractors and telling Grandma to show them to Granddad (have you done that yet Grandma?), trying new foods, and generally partying hardy. Ellen is progressing very well on her driving lessons and the hitchhikers keep on coming. Quick shout to Terry from Colorado before we start this mountain bike edition of Kiwi Adventures. Hope you made the flight man!!! And without further adieu, I give you the greatest little blog in the world.

Today we did some serious mountain biking in Queenstown. The weather was great and the tracks were dry (unlike the Pandapas Pond trail with Pumpkin a couple years back) so movement was only restricted by our comfort level. This was Ellen’s second time riding off road so the going was necessarily slow in some of the major uphill places but over all I’d say she’s a champ.

I’d like to go ahead and paint you a picture of the seven-mile reserve mountain bike park. It’s an intermediate place that isn’t for the pettily wimps but also not the huge downhill monster like the park in town. It skirts the lake with a backdrop of huge mountains. We rode along the road out of town to get there on some souped up full suspension mountain bikes we rented from R&R Sport. The main flora are pine trees and the whole thing slopes sideways into the lake so it is entirely possible to go into the drink.

Ellen and I started the day walking to R&R Sport where we talked to a couple of French dudes and a decidedly West Country English guy who was all too happy to rent us the higher priced mountain bikes. He was a nice guy though and got them all set up for us so we’d feel maximum confidence and therefore, fall with the maximum force. I personally like a hard tail mountain bike with the front forks set so tight that the whole thing just feels like a rock smasher. This thing I was riding felt like a weird cross between a four-door sedan and a 29er monster bike. I think I would have preferred my usual set up but I digress.

In the first 20 meters of riding off road Ellen contrived to come off and bloody her elbow, which did nothing for either of our confidence. It was also amazing that the ingress to the park is a horrible track not fit for man or beast with huge rocks in the middle of it and deep holes hiding around every corner. So, like a pack train of mules, we rode, fell and pushed our way to the park.

A pier into the lake marked the beginning of the proper mountain bike area. I decided it was a good call to ride out on the pier and look at the lake. It was there that I spied Ellen pushing the bike down the hill she was on about 200 meters back. The second tier of confidence was at that point hopelessly lost. When she got up to me she wasn’t very happy. I told her it would probably get better fully believing that it wouldn’t. Neither of us were very happy. We climbed a steep hill up into the park where we found two buffoons who seemed to be happy  with their decision so I perked up a bit. Ellen and I then descended into the Dream Arena mountain bike area. This was some sort of hell designed to not only confuse, but also to horribly maim and dishearten all who entered. Seriously, I considered putting a sign up that was to read “Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here”

Still we struggled on like Bill and Ted did on their history report or possibly more like that little squirrel on Ice Age. Finally we were rewarded with a junction telling us where we were. This place, called the hub for any of you techno heads who have a map up, is where we found what we were truly after. We backtracked along the walking path a bit and found the kachooing track. This was full on cross-country riding that a southwest VA boy could sink his teeth into. Ellen was perking up as well. I was hitting those negative G humps and chicanes only to look back and see her keeping right up. Ellen has always been the kind of girl who, given about a half hour with a sporting implement, picks it up like a pro. With my confidence fully restored we rode up and did some more little fun tracks in the area.

We had a wonderful mid day of shooting at speeds previously unheard of through the pinetrees so close together you could stick out your tongue and lick the sap off the bark. I know this because I ran into a few, Monterey pine is a very tangy taste with a certain je ne sais quois and a hint of lemon. Alas, all this darting around depleted our water supply pretty quickly.

We decided to head back down to the pier. Ellen took the main walking track and I went down the gravitron track and we met up lower on the track. Gravitron was cool in that it was full of chicanes and blind corners that made you feel like you were going too fast merely by moving. On the way down I ran into some French guys who said they’d seen Ellen cruise by like she was a natural. I passed her and proceeded to ride to the end of the pier and jump in the lake. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time and was cool and refreshing.

That being said, when I jump from hot and sweaty to hardly bearable cold water something happens in my guts which causes a rather urgent search for a bathroom. I beat feat back to the nearest one only to get out and find that I had left Ellen in the dust… Or had I? This was a conundrum. Go back and look for her or assume she had mastered her machine. I did the correct thing as a concerned fiance and went back along the trail to look for her. 

In the immortal words of Jake Harvey, I chose poorly (he used to say that whenever a kid fell on a wakeboard; it really split my sides). She had passed me and rode on to the R&R Sport where they told her to go to a bar and they’d send me her way. Ellen explained to them that she didn’t have any money for a drink to which they said “you’re a girl, just get boys to buy you drinks.” She was walking back down the street to the bar when I ran into her. She waited and I returned my bike. I then made the final fatal flaw of the day. I ate McDonalds, which went straight to my stomach and barraged it with some sort of horrible mixture of pain and I told you so. As we climbed the stairs I remembered my days in track with Coach Guynn and the late night Waffle House trips with the throwers before a meet. Had we learned nothing?

And so here ends the story of the crazy mountain bike trip. I hope all the cool cats back home are thawing back out for their summer which I'm sure is fast approaching. Also I'd like to say to all the people at Filthy Young Women; "SCOOP BORE." I hope Philip doesn't give Alex and Peppy TOO hard a time for what ever sort of poison they choose to ingest. 

The only sure thing is the hot tub I see in my very near future and more adventures with that crazy female who is tough as nails AND for some reason agreed to marry me.

And just as a shout out to Sam and John back in the Burg. WHAT TIME IS IT?!?

Bagging the Peak at Mt. Owen

I was sitting in Christchurch after getting off the plane. I had gotten a few things in order for when Ellen was to get here in February and was just generally lying around. I was thinking about getting my old job back or trying to find a new one for a few weeks when my dear friend Philip Schuhardt called and said “we’re going to Mt. Owen”. I told him that I didn’t think I could get ready in time but I’d do what I could. Thankfully Lindsay and Alice gave me lots of essential gear and I was able to scrounge up the rest. The next morning I was off at 6:30 AM to meet Philip and Sara for an adventure on the karst land of NZ.

Driving up to Nelson to meet them was an adventure in and of it’s self. I went via Lewis Pass. The drive was interesting because I hadn’t gone that way before. The weather was beautiful and I made good time, arriving in Nelson at 11:45.

I hung out at the information center in Nelson and pretty soon I saw Philip’s shining face looking at me from across the parking lot. We ran toward each other pretending to be in slow motion as the beautiful sun shone down on a beautiful, hot, summer day in Nelson. Finding Sara and similarly hugging her we decided that Fish N’ Chips were in order. We got our lunch at the Fish N’ Chips shop on the wharf and decided on our plan of attack. We left Nelson promptly at 3:15 after much fooling around and made our way to the head of the trail. It was 5:00 PM before we actually started the hike, which made everyone nervous as the weather had taken a turn for the worse and was closing in.

The hike from the parking lot on the north side of Mt. Owen starts as an immediate uphill slog on a 50 or so degree angle. As I felt like I was getting a cold the morning before I was a bit nervous. Actually… Philip and Sara will tell you (and quite rightly so) I began to panic. They, being the epic hiking buddies that they are, calmed me down and we made our way up the mountain. After the first hour I got used to the extreme uphill and was quite happy. The terrain changed from scrub to alpine forest and then to alpine meadow. About a mile into the trip Sara realized we had no camera and since Philip is some sort of weird demi-god he went back and got it. We all met back up on the first ridge in the alpine meadow. For those of you in the know it was the ridge between Culliford Hill and Billies Knob.

The view was spectacular and the clouds actually enhanced from the lighting instead of detracting from the view. We then went down something aptly named the staircase. This staircase was what dropped us down into a creek in the middle of a glacial valley between the afore mentioned hills. As it was getting dark we were much less worried about the scenery and more worried about getting to the Granity Pass Hut, which was where we were to stay for the night. We made our way up the trail, which followed a sinking streambed. Sometimes it was quite literally in the stream, which made us think about trying to build a trail in such a remote location. After seeing the hut we concluded that laziness was to blame for the trail (blaming no one since I wouldn’t have wanted to build that trail). We slowly made our way up the stream, getting more and more worried the darker it got, when suddenly there was the hut. I let out a whoop much akin to that of a rabid raccoon about to attack a plumber. 

As we stepped on the porch of the hut three things happened. The first was that it started to rain. The second was that it got hopelessly dark and the third was that we met a guy named SP. He was a kiwi on holiday from where he was currently living in Colorado. He mentioned he had climbed with Lindsay in the 70s and said to give Lindsay his regards. I was really happy to be there because I had resigned myself to thinking that I had been given some horrible disease yet again by the wonder and magic of air travel. We had some dinner and went to sleep.

The next morning we awoke to SP taking off. I was feeling notably better from the day before but still stuffy. Philip and Sara said they never slept because I had snored all night. Philip had tried to roll me over but to no avail. I will not digress into the warnings that were given or the evils of snoring except to say that in a pub later we saw a sign saying: Laugh and the world laughs with you, Snore and you sleep alone. Terrifying words, I’m sure, to a young woman back in VA as she ponders her fast approaching married fate, BUT as promised, I shall digress no more on the wonders and/or evils of snoring.

We made our breakfast as the rain came down and discussed the fact that the weather was clearing, and besides, we had come to look at hydrographic wonders! So we said “to hell with the rain” as we started on our journey to bag the peak at Mt. Owen.

<Lordoftherings>
For those of you who love your Lord of The Rings I will add this one and only aside. You know that part in the first movie where they’re like “lets go to the mines of moria” and end up on the plains of Dumdrill or some such place? This is where they filmed the outdoor section of that segment of the movie.
</Lordoftherings>

I could see why Philip wanted to come here as we made our way up the track. There were alcoves and caves literally everywhere. Mike Futrell will shed a tear when he sees the pictures of (or even better comes and visits) this epic SUPERKARST. I was scared to go off the track due to all the pits and tomos along the route. As we crossed amazing karst features on the plateau I thought of how happy I was that it was raining and gale force wind. If it weren’t then it wouldn’t have been half as epic. As we started our final ascent on the Mt. Owen Massif I got my first full body chill. We stopped in a little rock shelter formation to put on some more polypro for the final ascent up the summit. Sara was moving a little slowly due to her knee having been hurt earlier in the trip which was all well and good for me because (and I hate to admit this) my cardio wasn’t as good as theirs. I was also having fun surging ahead every now and again to look at different rock formations.

Trail blazing was also a very fun problem to have up there. What little trail there was had been marked by cairns some of which seemed to have blown over. We were constantly calculating the risks of getting lost in the fog but since it wasn’t getting any worse it was decided that not bagging the peak was unacceptable.

We slogged on until, while Sara and Philip were in the lead during a grueling uphill, Philip exclaimed “I don’t think there is any mountain left…”  We saw the remains of a shack that (thinking back) looked like it held seismic data gathering equipment at one time, but was now lying broken on the floor of a cliff 50 meters down. I can only assume that wind was responsible for such blatant destruction.

Having bagged the peak it was time to head down. The climb down was treacherous with all the karst formations (holes) but, intrepid as we were, we made it in good time. I would like to take this time to laude Sara for her being a super trooper. It wasn’t hard to see she was in a considerable amount of pain and yet she charged on down the mountain.

When we reached the plateau again Philip and I went off track to investigate some water that disappeared underground. From what I could see there were three insurgences that led down to a large sinkhole further down the mountain. The whole thing had excellent vertical potential and we surmised at it’s having been explored. Later I figured out that it had been bagged in the 70s by some people and had been named Owen’s Cave… what a terribly boring name.

In an aside I plan on reading the report for that cave. We found some insurgences not so obvious but that they had water flowing into them.

We made our way down to Granity Pass Hut and played cards while listening to Bat Out of Hell on my Kindle Fire. We had some epic cheese for dinner that had been aged since I was a sophomore in College. I would like to lecture for a bit on how much better food tastes under those conditions. A peanut can be better than a steak and cheese can taste like lobster bisque if you walk far enough in the rain. If a person wants to truly appreciate the little things in life such as; not being wet, hot food, milk, and taking a dump in a toilet, than backpacking truly is the best way to do so.

The next morning the weather had broken such that we could enjoy our walk down the mountain. When we got back to the ridge between Billies Knob and Culliford Hill we stopped to take a look at the view. I have to hand it to Philip because Sara and I were not overly keen on stopping but it’s good we did because it was the most picturesque view on the whole trip. Looking back I could see the valley full of trees and then alpine meadows until it rose to lofty peaks on either side. The entire thing was truly spectacular. If you bug Sara and Philip I’m sure they will let you see pictures of that area.

Alas it was time to go since the weather was closing in again. We beat feet to the bottom of the mountain to where the mighty Oddity waited like a surf beach rescue boat to whisk us to safety before the floodwaters could make it down the mountain and trap us there.

Needless to say we made out and the tires didn’t get wet or swept away. We went back to Nelson and stayed in a hotel that night to congratulate ourselves for making it up the mountain. We went to the Sprig and Fern pub to celebrate and I doubt Philip or Sara will ever drink any cider ever again.  That stuff will get ya if you don’t watch it.  I saw them off on the ferry at Picton after a lunch of Green Muscles in heavy cream. As I drove south to Blenheim the flood waters receded and I saw, for the first time since I met my friends, blue skies ahead.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I did a nice tramp the next day to the Whither Hills in Blenheim and met a nice old gentleman who told me to go hit Mt. Roberson and Mt. Riley. Currently I’m just hanging around a hostel with a bunch of Germans and one other token American. Just waiting for my lovely fiancé to come meet me so I can whisk her off to places yet unseen and untold. Even in these relatively boring times life is comfortable and people are cool. Keep hangin loose and I’ll catch you with another installment of the Kiwi Adventurer as those interesting places people and things keep coming at me.

PEACE OUT

Joker

The CCG Christmas BBQ Trip

Ok so this is the new site for the blog. Honestly I couldn't remember the password or username for the other one so I'm consolidating this with my VT account.

Not much has really been happening since I made my last post. I have been working a lot in the hope that I can take January and February off. I may do some casual work at a river guide place in Punakaiki in exchange for a place in a barn there. The days have been long but the work in Christchurch is rewarding. I was working with my friend Chris today. We were using grinders longer than a persons leg to cut concrete out of a wall so the building can meet code. The weather has been getting warmer and the days have been getting longer.

Things that have happened since my last post.

One of our older cavers named Derek was rescued from Kubla Khan cave on the West Coast. His story was told last night at the cave club meeting. He wrote up a very interesting and funny trip report that should make the Tomo Times (much like the NSS News). The man is 82 years old and still caving. His wife had to walk down a very bad road to find help when he didn't come out of the car. She had cooked him a chicken dinner which was spilled by the rescue crew. The whole thing was very fascinating and she took some very nice pictures of moss on her walk down from the cave.

On December 9th the Canterbury Caving Group had their annual BBQ at Cave Stream on Castle Hill. It was a very fun and relaxing event to go to. I went to pick Alice up at her place around 9:00 Am. Finding her still asleep I walked down Columbo Street to the dairy and got a Ginger Beer and a Bumper bar for breakfast. I then attempted to find something to grill but dairies are sadly under-stocked in steak.

I got back to Alice's place and she said I could have some of her vegetarian sausages. I quickly agreed to that and we got under way. We went first to the house of Mike and his wife (who's name I'm embarrassingly blanking on) to pick them up for the trip. Mike got in the front with me and the girls got in the back of the Oddity. We set off through Christchurch on the road to Arthur's Pass.

About 30 minutes out we drove through Sheffield. There is one thing in the town of Sheffield... Pies. I got a Lamb Fry pie. It was much better than one of those little awful things you get at the dairy pre wrapped. A real pie with real lamb and good pastry and good gravy. I had some friends that went up to Murchison on the way to see a friends fight in Nelson. They got pies with a whole Lamb Shank in them at a place there, but I digress.

We began the ascent up into Arthur's Pass in the Oddity. My boss Gene had given me some fuel additive a few weeks before so the Oddy actually made it up the hill at more than 50 kph. I was quite proud of this and my passengers were thankful that we were moving in the correct direction. Eventually we got to the parking lot for Cave Stream. There were rumored to be 23 scouts descending on the place so we tried to get on our gear as quickly as possible so as to be in the cave when they turned up.

On the way to the cave Alice mentioned there were other Americans about who wanted to go caving with us. As we got out of the car she loudly exclaimed this and sure enough Americans turned up. Scott was the leader of their band. He was surprisingly a member of the Northern New Jersey Grotto that we all know and love so well. He has also been down to the Blacksburg area and told me that he went into James Cave with Travis, small world.

We all suited up and took off to the cave. Thankfully we got in before the Boy Scouts found us. We entered the cave and immediately sank in water up to our chests. It was going to be one of THOSE kinds of trips. One of the cavers in the CCG, Hamish, myself and Scott were having fun poking around high leads in the cave. Scott and I found this little hole in the ceiling that eventually went and closed off into nothing as little holes are want to do. The CCG members were laughing at us for wanting to go down such an obnoxious little hole. Over here there is still epic bore hole to be discovered so the need to survey tiny little passage has not yet been realized.

Eventually the rest of the group left Hamish, Scott and Me behind. We wanted to keep exploring the side passages of the cave, they wanted to BBQ. Eventually we got out and ascended the hill to the party. We all grilled and ate our various foods.

At that point most of the people left but Hamish and Haley joined Alice and Me ridge walking to a new patch of land called Prebell Hill. It's new because the Department of Conservation (DOC) just recently listed it on their areas of owned land. There has been a land dispute with a rancher up until recently about the ownership of the land.

We traipsed all over the country side looking at remains of animals, plants, and giant rocks that were precariously balanced. Haley and Alice were talking about various plants and geology while Hamish and I were playing around on the hills. We found some, I'm told, very interesting and rare plants. Some of them were quite cool and I'm sure Ellen is reading this and salivating but I was interested in the scenery. It was like the western US but I'd just left the beach!

We walked back to the cars up a river. Hamish proved this was his home territory by somehow making it up an impossible river bank without getting wet. Hamish, if you're reading this at any point my hat is off to your rock hoping prowess.

Alice caught back up with us shooting pictures of cool, rare plants all the way. We got back to the car and I changed out of my second set of wet clothing for the day. The Rogers' had collected some Christmas trees using the hatchet I keep in my car for emergency wood cutting. They were all Charlie Brown in nature which is, in my opinion, the only way a Christmas Tree should be. We drove home cutting more and more small pine trees on the way. By the time we got back to Christchurch we had six Christmas trees in all.

It was a very good day of caving and ridge walking. We never got back to our destination of Prebell Hill so there could still be caves there. I plan on going back soon to check it out with anyone who will ride along in a voyage in the mighty Oddity.

I am quitting my job in Chirstchurch this Friday. The reason is that I now have adequate funds to continue my crazy journey across this big little island. Who knows what happens next?!?

To see pics look at my facebook page.