Crikey!
Hello faithful readers!
Sorry I've been neglecting you so much, and that its taken me a month and a half to tell the story of two weeks, but these things happen. Its been a little crazy around here lately. Recently I took a week off of school to go to Australia with some Americans from here and stayed with Jon Fanning. It was nuts. I don't have the time or energy to write out the whole of the adventure for you here right this minute, so I will hope that Jon gives a more thorough description in his journal. I will simply sum it up with a series of words: 6:00AM, no ticket, no flight, heartbreak, taxi ride, internet out, new flight, 800 dollars, rum, pancakes, chaos theory, opera house, shark tank, found Nemo, koala, wallabee, kangaroo kebab, teapot, strip club, breathalyzer, .23, face-punch, lapdance, manly, ferry, beach, suntan, ice cream, public sex, bruised knees, meltdown, still a job, right bus, wrong train, 10-minute-check-in, duty-free, home alive, psycic-attack.
There you go. When I got back I had to catch up for that missed week, so I spent last week locked in my flat writing essays, or trying to, while I nursed a terrible fever. Better now, and almost done with these essays, after which I only have two more weeks of class, then two weeks of nothin to do before exam week. Meaning I will probably set out for adventure again, so I'd better finish chronicling the last one here.
Earlier today I felt bad because it was a very nice day outside, but I was inside to watch the ESPN.com gamecast of the Rockies v. Padres tiebreaker. Now the weather has turned to shit again, so I don't feel as bad as I sit here and watch the Rockies do their best to finally blow it in the 13th goddamn inning!!! Gah!!!!!!!! Motherfucker!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Allright, you'll see another outburst like that if they finally lose it while I'm making this post. But anyway, back to where we left off:
Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007
Whariwharangi Hut, Night 2
Wow, writing by candlelight is romantic. I feel like I should be looking over nautical charts, or sketching out pictures of assorted slora and fauna that I've seen to send back to the royal geographical society. I'm not much of a hand at drawing, though, so I'll start tonight instead with some notes about my travelling companion, Justin G.
Justin is a noisy eater! Those of you who know me know that this is one of my chief pet peeves. All the time, no matter what kind of food, the second he takes a bite its all slurps and the smacking of lips, and wheezing and gasping, as if every bite required an immense physical effort on his part. And as it is generally jsut us and nature about when we have our meals, there is no other noise to distract me from this gross annoyance. Also, he snores. And farts a lot.
Justin has a tremendous ego. Last night he kept braggin about how he was going to whoop my ass at chess. Today I have already beaten him twice, even after he instituted a one-minute time limit for me to come up with a move, frustrated as he was by my propensity to think over my course of action very carefully (actually, I've felt more on than I ever have before at chess today, maybe its that "conflict theory" class I've been taking).
Anyway, Justin seems to think that he has a whole lot to offer the world. He plans on writing a self-help book and running a multi-million dollar company someday, making enough money to reitre at 30 and live on a tobacco plantation with his wife, children wine cellar, and other opulent amenities. I don't think there are many plans for charity in his fiscal outlook, except for the funding of a school. He plans to leave a huge inheritance to his kids.
Justin is a libertarian, and he supports Newt Gingrich for president. Yeah, I was pretty shocked to learn that one, too,-
-God Bless You, Matt Holiday!-
-and really had nothing to say for a long time as I pondered whether or not to get into it with him over what an asinine vote that would be.
He likes to toe the line as far as actually pissing me off. I think its an ego thing, he thinks of himself as being the leader o-
-HOLY FUCKING CHRIST, ROCKIES WIN! ROCKIES WIN! ROCKIES WIN!!! MATT HOLLIDAY CAN HAVE MY BABIES!!!!!!-
-f this little expedition, with me riding along with no experience or bush knowledge. To an extent, this is true, and I try to be receptive as he gives advice, because a lot of what he says is handy stuff. But sometimes he takes it a bit far, and he has this very grating, condescending tone about it. He will also often nit-pick about little things like :"You're going to wear that on this leg?" or "You should probably fill up the water jug out there now" "Why? Its already half-full." "Yeah, but we'll need to fill it up at some point." "Well the faucet is ten feet out that door, I'll go when it stops raining." He's also one of those people who has to have the final word on everything, even if we're in agreement he'll try to find some little detail to change in his final summation.
On a vaguely related note, I AM A FIRE GOD!! Last night I started a fire with a flint. Tonight, Justin started one with a flint, but then it died, so I had to resurrect it. I am man. I make fire. Soon, I invent wheel and printing press. Then Space program. Then TiVO. Then Facebook. Then conquer brown man.
Anyway, Justin has ADHD, which may be a part of his grating personality, so I try to cut him some slack. Also, it is true that he has much more outdoors experience than I have so far, so I am trying to learn all I can from him- today he taught me to split logs with an axe- and he's a least a nice enough guy, jovial, outgoing, and socially liberal. He also comes from an interesting, kinda fucked-up family, with several divorces, addictions, and feuds. He's definitely got the southern Chivalry thing goin, and he seems like he'd be a valuable ally in a jam. So I try to keep things peaceable; I stick to topics that we can be neutral about: sports, women we'd like to have sex with, booze, drugs, and perhaps most importantly: food. Today we had a long chat comparing what our parents cook well. He bragged about his mom's gumbo, I bragged about my dad's salmon.
-He just asked me if my journal will remember him fondly. Why that question right now? Ye gods. I hope my answer didn't sound too unnatural, wouldn't want him to think I was writing mean things about the guy...
But I belive that after we get back, my time in his company will be at an end and I shall likely continue my journey of this island on my own.
---------(What follows is about a page of crappy poetry, most of it crossed out)-------
Yep, that's about a page of false starts for the artsy section of today's captain's log. Somehow I'd thought that it would be easier to create something of merit here in these hills, but instead have found that stagnation is unending. Woe! Angst!
And now that I've recovered, its not that this place is short if inspiration,
(Hmm, that entry kinda trials off there, must've fallen asleep or something)
Thursday, August 23rd, 2007
Inland Track! Awapato Hut
Today was incredible. We rose early, making it out of the hut by 8:30 AM, to begin our return trek down the inland track. The first hour and a half took us up Gibb's Hill, a rough 200m or so climb. From there the track did not really relent at any point, with the last hour being nearly vertical for much of the climb until we reached the hut.
I felt great, muscles churning and hoisting myself up the steep inclines, deftly scrambling up and down the rocky crags and points where the track cut right into the roots of the very trees, which served as footholds. And all of this in some of the most luscious, green forest you've ever seen.
There are an incredible amount of birds here in this clearing. I see some flying around nearby while countless others more are adding their song to the music of the forest around me. The forest is indescribably tranquil, the low rustle of the wind, and above that the faint hum of bees in the bushes, then on top of that the chorus of birds. There's one whose feathers make a sound like cards being shuffled at it flies. It might be my favorite.
It would be a good deal more tranquil if it weren't for the noisebag here with me. Good lord. Even reading right now he still makes noise; grunting, belching, yawning and mouth-breathing. And now he just farted, again. And it was worse on the trail. Justin doesn't seem to be the type who can simply appreciate silence, and those of you who know me know that I can and do appreciate silence, particularly on a day like today; where our strenuous journey put me in a rather pensive mood. But Justin insists on constantly talking, making little observations like "dude, that is some tree", or more often, bitching about the steepness of the trail (several times I stopped myself from telling him that if he talked less he could save some breath to hike faster). And then of course there was the occasional obscene comment, such as "If I keep hiking like this, soon I'll be able to fuck bitches for longer than I can keep it up!" Now, you know that I love obscene jokes as much as the next person, if not more, however there is a difference between being dirty in a funny way, and just being a gross human being. Justin is the latter.
Also- a few last notes on him before I put the subject to rest forever- he tends to begin statments with "you've got to admit..." which I suppose is just another of those weird personal styles of talking, verbal stutter steps like "not gonna lie..." or "i'll be honest with you..." but something about that particular phrase pisses me off when I hear him use it. It feels like he thinks whatever point he is about to make is something that I must concede to, and that he has scored some sort of intellectual or moral point on me by saying it. Also, he continues to insist on being right and having the last word on everything. Case in point:
Along the trail he muses as to whether I think I've forgotten anything that it would have been good to bring on this trip. At first I affirm that I'm pretty sure I brought everything that I needed. He agrees. We round a bend onto the exposed, sunny side of the mountain, which on this perfectly clear day is very bright in the noontime sun, and I remark that sunscreen would have probably been a good idea, so that is the one thing I forgot. I figure that sense they do tell you to wear it on the trail in all seasons, it would have been good to have, especially today. But this does not fit with Justin's world. Perhpas heeding the recommendation of the forest service is a bit too "communistic" for his tastes. He replies:
"Do you really think you'd use it?"
"Well yeah, we are out in the sun a lot, especially today."
"We've been out in the sun everyday."
"And.."
"And we haven't gotten burned."
"True, but today we might, we've been out a lot. And even if it doesn't burn, it'll still cause damage, especially in this country."
"Oh come one you pussy."
"Hey, I would jsut rather not catch skin cancer."
"Well, the way I see it, its like smoking."
"How so?"
"Well, those cause cancer."
"And..?"
"So why do you smoke?"
"Well I don't think that really has much to do with it.."
"My view on life is that you just have to go out there, see the world and enjoy yourself. And there are some risks you just have to take."
"But this is one you don't have to take, because all it takes is a quick slapping on of sunscreen, and I'm pretty sure that isn't going to affect your enjoyment of anything."
This stops him for a few moments, and then:
"And come on, you afraid of having a creased face?"
"Well, yeah, I guess I want to avoid that for the time being."
"Come on, it shows character."
I want to tell him here that that's dumb, but instead I diffuse it with:
"Well, that's why I grew a beard."
He finally lets it go, giving me one of his "i'm-still-right-and-you-are-a-girl-because-you-aren't-from-Texas shrugs.
But once again, he isn't all that bad, he had a couple of good jokes today, like "How did the kiwi find the sheep in the tall grass? -Very satisfying." Or the idea of putting together a blow-up doll rendition of the last supper.
I was musing today on ideas for film projects as well. I want to do a 15-minute Julius Caesar (if it hasn't been done yet), possibly set as a Western (Cassius and Brutus kick open the barn doors brandishing shotguns!), possibly all in one continuous shot, possibly using guerrilla Shakespeare actors when I get back to Chapman. I'm cold again now, though, and wish to build a fire.
-Note: I have since written that script, I think it turned out pretty good. I may post it here, or if you want to read it tell me and I'll e-mail it to you. I submitted it for location filmaking, but I don't think it got accepted.-
Fri. August 24th
Castle Rock Hut
Apparently there are many Castle Rocks in this world.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure that after this trip, if you look up the word "adventure" in the dictionary, my name comes up. Not necessarily in the definittion, but possibly in the synonyms part, or at least in the "see also." Cuz damn, its been a helluva trip. Each day has seen its own challenges, from the bus blunder of day one to the estuary fording and tent experience of day two, the blisters and beach slagging of day three, and our fight with the rats that night. Yesterday it was a steep ascent and today, while there were some tough climbs, much of the work was downhill. Downhill poses its own set of problems. In fact, they say that most mountaineering accidents occur on the descent. The major hurdle today was negotiating the terrain. This section of track has been more tough than previous days. Most of it was stair-stepping tree roots. Other parts required some bouldering skill, and many other sections of the track today were a muddy, boot-sucking bog, which if you weren't careful, like I wasn't, would suck you down to the knee in mud and try to steal your boots. But we negotiated it, with our keen ingenuity and remarkable physical prowess. Weaker men would surely have perished where we triumphed today.
So maybe it wasn't that tough, but today was a tricky bit of trail. The hardest section might have actually been the adendum to the hike that we made after reaching the hut. A sign pointed to "Castle Rock Lookout," and I wanted to check it out before the sun set completely (it had just dropped below the horizon when we arrived). so I dropped my pack, grabbed my camera and a headlamp and ran for it. There was distance marker on the sign, so I figured it would be a quick jaunt. Not quite. The trail up to Castle Rock is not much more than a little creekbed down into a steep ravine and then up the other side, a good 100 meters each way. After you ford a small stream, you find that the path on the other side is covered in thorn bushes, and these have not been trimmed recently, so as you climb the side of this hill you are constantly running into these sharp branches, which my raincoat, shirt and longjohns were little match for. The view from the top was very worth it, though.In the last fading daylight we could see all the way to Marehau, our destination, and across the bay to Nelson. Civilization again! Beds and blankets and buses and electricity; and large pizzas, which I will eat to myself, , and sweet, sweet showers and laundry machines.
Actually, I am sad to leave the wood, all this beauty here in Abel Tasman. The solitude, the feeling of peace in nature, etc. This morning I experienced all of that as we made our way through the trees. The morning sun was shining through the canopy, catching the soft, dew sprinkled moss which carpeted our path- a scene straight out of Lothlorien, for you LOTR nerds out there. A small bird alighted near me and hopped right up to my feet, chirping happily, exhibiting absolutely no fear or hesitance toward humans. Then, soonafter, we came over a ridge and snuck up on two mountian goats. We'd been focusing so hard on finding our footing, and we didn't see them unitl we were right on top of them. They stared at us a moment, and we stared back, then they bolted, but from the sound of their bleating, it seemed that they followed us through the woods for sometime thereafter. Magical.
But what is not magical is the shape that this hut is in, especially the chimney. It needs a good cleaning, because the soot is keeping the smoke of our little fire right inside the hut, making me cough and worry a little about carbon monoxide poisoning if we leave it going for too long.
Goddamn, astronomy is cool. I'm reading a National Geographic from 2003 right now, all about dark matter and the formation of galaxies. Remind me to learn more about astronomy later, when I get back.
Saturday, August 25th 2007
"Arts Unique," Marehau
Well goddamn, folks, we made it! 7 days and we are back to Marehau where we started. A cold frost last night made for a crisp early breakfast this morning, but we made it out to the bus station at 2:45, 2 houts before our bus leaves; because, so help me, there was no way I was about to miss the damn thing again!
The terrain today was still pretty rough, at least for the first part of the day. Downhill now, but still quite steep. Several river crossings as well, mostly over slick rocks and mossy logs. Safe and sound now, though, no injuries or anything, just very sore, like the day after a big game. Kindof sad to be out. I will miss the freedom, the fresh air, the solitude, all of that stuff. It was strange, actually, to suddenly be seeing people again; aside from the ranger Kathy two days ago and the Germans we haven't seen anyone since Day 1. I have to relearn how to interact with civilised folk again (like the comedown from a drug trip).
My camera is full. My boots are covered in mud. My clothes smell like ass. My face is covered in scruff (although i'm starting to thing that I could pull off a moustache if I wanted to...). I've learned a whole lot from this, about the world, about life, about myself, but everyone comes back from this sort of thing feeling like that, and after being with Justin I know how fucking annoying it can be to listen to someone who thinks they've got the universe all figured out and in fact doesn't know anything, so I won;t bore you with all that talk. You want to discover a fresh outlook on life? You go out into the wilderness for a week, tell me what you find. How's that sound? Go ahead. I'll wait...
I just caught myself blatantly scratching and rearranging my package, even though I am perfectly aware that there are people nearby, watching. See, gonna take some time to adjust. Ooh, bus just got here, hold on.
Allright, on the bus now. Spent the last hour and a half sitting outside of "Arts Unique," an organic farm where they do woodcarvings as well. They were looking for "WOOFers, (the acronym for "work on an organic farm) which is a way that us backpacker types can find a job on a little organic farm and a place to stay for a bit. I will admit, I was very tempted to just go ahead and ask if I could stay; screw you Victoria, screw you Chapman, screw you USA, I'm staying here to farm. Or even just for next week...
The roosters are sill on the road to Motueka.
The vineyards and hops fields are still on the road to Motueka.
Nodded off for a bit there on the bus ride. While I was out, Justin seems to have gotten himself a bag of cookies off of the Austrian girl he has been flirting with. Bastard. Oh, wait a moment, he is sending them back here. Yum. Now he's breaggin to her about the estuary crossings, embellishing greatly the difficulty. I'd call him a cint, but I will probably do the same later.
What if we humans were never allowed to make plans for more than one week in advance?
Allright, I promise, we're almost there. Only one week left, and it goes by pretty fast, I think. I'll try to get it all down very, very soon. Until then, go Rockies!!!! Waaaa-hooo!
Sorry I've been neglecting you so much, and that its taken me a month and a half to tell the story of two weeks, but these things happen. Its been a little crazy around here lately. Recently I took a week off of school to go to Australia with some Americans from here and stayed with Jon Fanning. It was nuts. I don't have the time or energy to write out the whole of the adventure for you here right this minute, so I will hope that Jon gives a more thorough description in his journal. I will simply sum it up with a series of words: 6:00AM, no ticket, no flight, heartbreak, taxi ride, internet out, new flight, 800 dollars, rum, pancakes, chaos theory, opera house, shark tank, found Nemo, koala, wallabee, kangaroo kebab, teapot, strip club, breathalyzer, .23, face-punch, lapdance, manly, ferry, beach, suntan, ice cream, public sex, bruised knees, meltdown, still a job, right bus, wrong train, 10-minute-check-in, duty-free, home alive, psycic-attack.
There you go. When I got back I had to catch up for that missed week, so I spent last week locked in my flat writing essays, or trying to, while I nursed a terrible fever. Better now, and almost done with these essays, after which I only have two more weeks of class, then two weeks of nothin to do before exam week. Meaning I will probably set out for adventure again, so I'd better finish chronicling the last one here.
Earlier today I felt bad because it was a very nice day outside, but I was inside to watch the ESPN.com gamecast of the Rockies v. Padres tiebreaker. Now the weather has turned to shit again, so I don't feel as bad as I sit here and watch the Rockies do their best to finally blow it in the 13th goddamn inning!!! Gah!!!!!!!! Motherfucker!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Allright, you'll see another outburst like that if they finally lose it while I'm making this post. But anyway, back to where we left off:
Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007
Whariwharangi Hut, Night 2
Wow, writing by candlelight is romantic. I feel like I should be looking over nautical charts, or sketching out pictures of assorted slora and fauna that I've seen to send back to the royal geographical society. I'm not much of a hand at drawing, though, so I'll start tonight instead with some notes about my travelling companion, Justin G.
Justin is a noisy eater! Those of you who know me know that this is one of my chief pet peeves. All the time, no matter what kind of food, the second he takes a bite its all slurps and the smacking of lips, and wheezing and gasping, as if every bite required an immense physical effort on his part. And as it is generally jsut us and nature about when we have our meals, there is no other noise to distract me from this gross annoyance. Also, he snores. And farts a lot.
Justin has a tremendous ego. Last night he kept braggin about how he was going to whoop my ass at chess. Today I have already beaten him twice, even after he instituted a one-minute time limit for me to come up with a move, frustrated as he was by my propensity to think over my course of action very carefully (actually, I've felt more on than I ever have before at chess today, maybe its that "conflict theory" class I've been taking).
Anyway, Justin seems to think that he has a whole lot to offer the world. He plans on writing a self-help book and running a multi-million dollar company someday, making enough money to reitre at 30 and live on a tobacco plantation with his wife, children wine cellar, and other opulent amenities. I don't think there are many plans for charity in his fiscal outlook, except for the funding of a school. He plans to leave a huge inheritance to his kids.
Justin is a libertarian, and he supports Newt Gingrich for president. Yeah, I was pretty shocked to learn that one, too,-
-God Bless You, Matt Holiday!-
-and really had nothing to say for a long time as I pondered whether or not to get into it with him over what an asinine vote that would be.
He likes to toe the line as far as actually pissing me off. I think its an ego thing, he thinks of himself as being the leader o-
-HOLY FUCKING CHRIST, ROCKIES WIN! ROCKIES WIN! ROCKIES WIN!!! MATT HOLLIDAY CAN HAVE MY BABIES!!!!!!-
-f this little expedition, with me riding along with no experience or bush knowledge. To an extent, this is true, and I try to be receptive as he gives advice, because a lot of what he says is handy stuff. But sometimes he takes it a bit far, and he has this very grating, condescending tone about it. He will also often nit-pick about little things like :"You're going to wear that on this leg?" or "You should probably fill up the water jug out there now" "Why? Its already half-full." "Yeah, but we'll need to fill it up at some point." "Well the faucet is ten feet out that door, I'll go when it stops raining." He's also one of those people who has to have the final word on everything, even if we're in agreement he'll try to find some little detail to change in his final summation.
On a vaguely related note, I AM A FIRE GOD!! Last night I started a fire with a flint. Tonight, Justin started one with a flint, but then it died, so I had to resurrect it. I am man. I make fire. Soon, I invent wheel and printing press. Then Space program. Then TiVO. Then Facebook. Then conquer brown man.
Anyway, Justin has ADHD, which may be a part of his grating personality, so I try to cut him some slack. Also, it is true that he has much more outdoors experience than I have so far, so I am trying to learn all I can from him- today he taught me to split logs with an axe- and he's a least a nice enough guy, jovial, outgoing, and socially liberal. He also comes from an interesting, kinda fucked-up family, with several divorces, addictions, and feuds. He's definitely got the southern Chivalry thing goin, and he seems like he'd be a valuable ally in a jam. So I try to keep things peaceable; I stick to topics that we can be neutral about: sports, women we'd like to have sex with, booze, drugs, and perhaps most importantly: food. Today we had a long chat comparing what our parents cook well. He bragged about his mom's gumbo, I bragged about my dad's salmon.
-He just asked me if my journal will remember him fondly. Why that question right now? Ye gods. I hope my answer didn't sound too unnatural, wouldn't want him to think I was writing mean things about the guy...
But I belive that after we get back, my time in his company will be at an end and I shall likely continue my journey of this island on my own.
---------(What follows is about a page of crappy poetry, most of it crossed out)-------
Yep, that's about a page of false starts for the artsy section of today's captain's log. Somehow I'd thought that it would be easier to create something of merit here in these hills, but instead have found that stagnation is unending. Woe! Angst!
And now that I've recovered, its not that this place is short if inspiration,
(Hmm, that entry kinda trials off there, must've fallen asleep or something)
Thursday, August 23rd, 2007
Inland Track! Awapato Hut
Today was incredible. We rose early, making it out of the hut by 8:30 AM, to begin our return trek down the inland track. The first hour and a half took us up Gibb's Hill, a rough 200m or so climb. From there the track did not really relent at any point, with the last hour being nearly vertical for much of the climb until we reached the hut.
I felt great, muscles churning and hoisting myself up the steep inclines, deftly scrambling up and down the rocky crags and points where the track cut right into the roots of the very trees, which served as footholds. And all of this in some of the most luscious, green forest you've ever seen.
There are an incredible amount of birds here in this clearing. I see some flying around nearby while countless others more are adding their song to the music of the forest around me. The forest is indescribably tranquil, the low rustle of the wind, and above that the faint hum of bees in the bushes, then on top of that the chorus of birds. There's one whose feathers make a sound like cards being shuffled at it flies. It might be my favorite.
It would be a good deal more tranquil if it weren't for the noisebag here with me. Good lord. Even reading right now he still makes noise; grunting, belching, yawning and mouth-breathing. And now he just farted, again. And it was worse on the trail. Justin doesn't seem to be the type who can simply appreciate silence, and those of you who know me know that I can and do appreciate silence, particularly on a day like today; where our strenuous journey put me in a rather pensive mood. But Justin insists on constantly talking, making little observations like "dude, that is some tree", or more often, bitching about the steepness of the trail (several times I stopped myself from telling him that if he talked less he could save some breath to hike faster). And then of course there was the occasional obscene comment, such as "If I keep hiking like this, soon I'll be able to fuck bitches for longer than I can keep it up!" Now, you know that I love obscene jokes as much as the next person, if not more, however there is a difference between being dirty in a funny way, and just being a gross human being. Justin is the latter.
Also- a few last notes on him before I put the subject to rest forever- he tends to begin statments with "you've got to admit..." which I suppose is just another of those weird personal styles of talking, verbal stutter steps like "not gonna lie..." or "i'll be honest with you..." but something about that particular phrase pisses me off when I hear him use it. It feels like he thinks whatever point he is about to make is something that I must concede to, and that he has scored some sort of intellectual or moral point on me by saying it. Also, he continues to insist on being right and having the last word on everything. Case in point:
Along the trail he muses as to whether I think I've forgotten anything that it would have been good to bring on this trip. At first I affirm that I'm pretty sure I brought everything that I needed. He agrees. We round a bend onto the exposed, sunny side of the mountain, which on this perfectly clear day is very bright in the noontime sun, and I remark that sunscreen would have probably been a good idea, so that is the one thing I forgot. I figure that sense they do tell you to wear it on the trail in all seasons, it would have been good to have, especially today. But this does not fit with Justin's world. Perhpas heeding the recommendation of the forest service is a bit too "communistic" for his tastes. He replies:
"Do you really think you'd use it?"
"Well yeah, we are out in the sun a lot, especially today."
"We've been out in the sun everyday."
"And.."
"And we haven't gotten burned."
"True, but today we might, we've been out a lot. And even if it doesn't burn, it'll still cause damage, especially in this country."
"Oh come one you pussy."
"Hey, I would jsut rather not catch skin cancer."
"Well, the way I see it, its like smoking."
"How so?"
"Well, those cause cancer."
"And..?"
"So why do you smoke?"
"Well I don't think that really has much to do with it.."
"My view on life is that you just have to go out there, see the world and enjoy yourself. And there are some risks you just have to take."
"But this is one you don't have to take, because all it takes is a quick slapping on of sunscreen, and I'm pretty sure that isn't going to affect your enjoyment of anything."
This stops him for a few moments, and then:
"And come on, you afraid of having a creased face?"
"Well, yeah, I guess I want to avoid that for the time being."
"Come on, it shows character."
I want to tell him here that that's dumb, but instead I diffuse it with:
"Well, that's why I grew a beard."
He finally lets it go, giving me one of his "i'm-still-right-and-you-are-a-girl-because-you-aren't-from-Texas shrugs.
But once again, he isn't all that bad, he had a couple of good jokes today, like "How did the kiwi find the sheep in the tall grass? -Very satisfying." Or the idea of putting together a blow-up doll rendition of the last supper.
I was musing today on ideas for film projects as well. I want to do a 15-minute Julius Caesar (if it hasn't been done yet), possibly set as a Western (Cassius and Brutus kick open the barn doors brandishing shotguns!), possibly all in one continuous shot, possibly using guerrilla Shakespeare actors when I get back to Chapman. I'm cold again now, though, and wish to build a fire.
-Note: I have since written that script, I think it turned out pretty good. I may post it here, or if you want to read it tell me and I'll e-mail it to you. I submitted it for location filmaking, but I don't think it got accepted.-
Fri. August 24th
Castle Rock Hut
Apparently there are many Castle Rocks in this world.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure that after this trip, if you look up the word "adventure" in the dictionary, my name comes up. Not necessarily in the definittion, but possibly in the synonyms part, or at least in the "see also." Cuz damn, its been a helluva trip. Each day has seen its own challenges, from the bus blunder of day one to the estuary fording and tent experience of day two, the blisters and beach slagging of day three, and our fight with the rats that night. Yesterday it was a steep ascent and today, while there were some tough climbs, much of the work was downhill. Downhill poses its own set of problems. In fact, they say that most mountaineering accidents occur on the descent. The major hurdle today was negotiating the terrain. This section of track has been more tough than previous days. Most of it was stair-stepping tree roots. Other parts required some bouldering skill, and many other sections of the track today were a muddy, boot-sucking bog, which if you weren't careful, like I wasn't, would suck you down to the knee in mud and try to steal your boots. But we negotiated it, with our keen ingenuity and remarkable physical prowess. Weaker men would surely have perished where we triumphed today.
So maybe it wasn't that tough, but today was a tricky bit of trail. The hardest section might have actually been the adendum to the hike that we made after reaching the hut. A sign pointed to "Castle Rock Lookout," and I wanted to check it out before the sun set completely (it had just dropped below the horizon when we arrived). so I dropped my pack, grabbed my camera and a headlamp and ran for it. There was distance marker on the sign, so I figured it would be a quick jaunt. Not quite. The trail up to Castle Rock is not much more than a little creekbed down into a steep ravine and then up the other side, a good 100 meters each way. After you ford a small stream, you find that the path on the other side is covered in thorn bushes, and these have not been trimmed recently, so as you climb the side of this hill you are constantly running into these sharp branches, which my raincoat, shirt and longjohns were little match for. The view from the top was very worth it, though.In the last fading daylight we could see all the way to Marehau, our destination, and across the bay to Nelson. Civilization again! Beds and blankets and buses and electricity; and large pizzas, which I will eat to myself, , and sweet, sweet showers and laundry machines.
Actually, I am sad to leave the wood, all this beauty here in Abel Tasman. The solitude, the feeling of peace in nature, etc. This morning I experienced all of that as we made our way through the trees. The morning sun was shining through the canopy, catching the soft, dew sprinkled moss which carpeted our path- a scene straight out of Lothlorien, for you LOTR nerds out there. A small bird alighted near me and hopped right up to my feet, chirping happily, exhibiting absolutely no fear or hesitance toward humans. Then, soonafter, we came over a ridge and snuck up on two mountian goats. We'd been focusing so hard on finding our footing, and we didn't see them unitl we were right on top of them. They stared at us a moment, and we stared back, then they bolted, but from the sound of their bleating, it seemed that they followed us through the woods for sometime thereafter. Magical.
But what is not magical is the shape that this hut is in, especially the chimney. It needs a good cleaning, because the soot is keeping the smoke of our little fire right inside the hut, making me cough and worry a little about carbon monoxide poisoning if we leave it going for too long.
Goddamn, astronomy is cool. I'm reading a National Geographic from 2003 right now, all about dark matter and the formation of galaxies. Remind me to learn more about astronomy later, when I get back.
Saturday, August 25th 2007
"Arts Unique," Marehau
Well goddamn, folks, we made it! 7 days and we are back to Marehau where we started. A cold frost last night made for a crisp early breakfast this morning, but we made it out to the bus station at 2:45, 2 houts before our bus leaves; because, so help me, there was no way I was about to miss the damn thing again!
The terrain today was still pretty rough, at least for the first part of the day. Downhill now, but still quite steep. Several river crossings as well, mostly over slick rocks and mossy logs. Safe and sound now, though, no injuries or anything, just very sore, like the day after a big game. Kindof sad to be out. I will miss the freedom, the fresh air, the solitude, all of that stuff. It was strange, actually, to suddenly be seeing people again; aside from the ranger Kathy two days ago and the Germans we haven't seen anyone since Day 1. I have to relearn how to interact with civilised folk again (like the comedown from a drug trip).
My camera is full. My boots are covered in mud. My clothes smell like ass. My face is covered in scruff (although i'm starting to thing that I could pull off a moustache if I wanted to...). I've learned a whole lot from this, about the world, about life, about myself, but everyone comes back from this sort of thing feeling like that, and after being with Justin I know how fucking annoying it can be to listen to someone who thinks they've got the universe all figured out and in fact doesn't know anything, so I won;t bore you with all that talk. You want to discover a fresh outlook on life? You go out into the wilderness for a week, tell me what you find. How's that sound? Go ahead. I'll wait...
I just caught myself blatantly scratching and rearranging my package, even though I am perfectly aware that there are people nearby, watching. See, gonna take some time to adjust. Ooh, bus just got here, hold on.
Allright, on the bus now. Spent the last hour and a half sitting outside of "Arts Unique," an organic farm where they do woodcarvings as well. They were looking for "WOOFers, (the acronym for "work on an organic farm) which is a way that us backpacker types can find a job on a little organic farm and a place to stay for a bit. I will admit, I was very tempted to just go ahead and ask if I could stay; screw you Victoria, screw you Chapman, screw you USA, I'm staying here to farm. Or even just for next week...
The roosters are sill on the road to Motueka.
The vineyards and hops fields are still on the road to Motueka.
Nodded off for a bit there on the bus ride. While I was out, Justin seems to have gotten himself a bag of cookies off of the Austrian girl he has been flirting with. Bastard. Oh, wait a moment, he is sending them back here. Yum. Now he's breaggin to her about the estuary crossings, embellishing greatly the difficulty. I'd call him a cint, but I will probably do the same later.
What if we humans were never allowed to make plans for more than one week in advance?
Allright, I promise, we're almost there. Only one week left, and it goes by pretty fast, I think. I'll try to get it all down very, very soon. Until then, go Rockies!!!! Waaaa-hooo!