...And Swept Away a Shoe

The next morning the group awoke at Crow Hut and quickly packed. Though the day was expected to be warm, the sun had not yet risen above the surrounding mountains. Dew covered the grass and it was cold as the three gathered their belongings and set out, stopping for one final photo.

This day's hike would seem simple compared to the steep climb and descent they faced the previous day. It was flat as they weaved their way down the path, stepping in and out of the forest as they went. To the left was the glacial river, guiding them on this day. The river would lead back to the road, back to civilization. Back to... school.


Eventually the sun rose high enough to peak over the tops of the mountains. As the temperature increased, it was as if the seasons had changed within a few short minutes.


The path through the forest eventually came to an end, leaving only the riverbank to walk along. Stopping to refill their bottles with the crisp water every so often, the relaxed pace on this day was a nice change for the three. However, there were several setbacks waiting ahead.


Along the river there was no clear path. The three simply walked along its banks and wondered when they would reach the end. As simple as this may seem, problems arose when obstructions would appear, forcing the group to attempt to cross to the opposite side.

The water was deceptively quick, but it was still easily passable. Scouting out the best locations, the three were often able to avoid getting wet by hopping on the rocks that were strewn about. But not always.

Coming up to one crossing, it became clear that there was no simple way to cross. After considering the situation for several minutes, a plan was formed. All three would remove their shoes and wade across, as the river was only two or three feet deep. Seemingly simple, things quickly got complicated.

One member of the group decided that it would be best to remove his shoes and then toss them onto the opposite bank, leaving his hands free to navigate the swift current.

He removed the first shoe and tossed it onto the other side. Success.

He removed his second shoe and threw it in a similar fashion. Immediately upon releasing this second shoe, he realized what was about to happen.

Holding on to the shoe for a second too long, it had popped straight up into the air. He watched helplessly as it remained suspended in the sky for a moment, and then...

Dropped into the middle of the river.

As the current was strong, the shoe was quickly swept away, leaving its owner standing barefooted and on the wrong side of the river.

The consequences of this tremendous screw up were clear; the group still had several miles to go, walking across large rocks. This could be difficult with shoes, but without...

Realizing what was happening, one of the travelers that had already made it across sprung into action. Dropping his bag, he sprinted roughly 100 yards down stream, desperately trying to get ahead of the wayward shoe. Eyes scanning frantically, he wasn't sure if he would be able to locate it in time.

But he did! Walking triumphantly back to the point where they all crossed, the shoe was returned to a very sheepish owner.


The remainder of river crossings were done so without the removal of shoes.

Soon after this, the scenery changed. The valley opened up considerably, leaving the three to wander through a vast flatland filled with nothing but rocks.


This is the environment through which they walked in silence, knowing that the end of their journey was rapidly approaching and having mixed emotions about it. The two days had been difficult yet exhilarating, with breathtaking views and a healthy amount of banter and laughter.

But now, with the emergence from the sea of rocks, it was all about to end. Crossing an enormous green field in their home stretch, each group member allowed themselves to get lost in their own thoughts.


Finally reaching the road, the three sat down and had lunch. It was still hours before they needed to be back at school, and though they were just under 150 kilometers away, there was little urgency in their words or actions. Instead, they sat in the sun and ate.

Finishing their meal, they looked around and decided to make their move. Though one adventure had ended, another was just now beginning.

Standing slowly, the three turned and directed their attention down the road, off into the horizon.

Lines of Verse

The folly of man is weakness,
Torn apart by inner strife.
The mass consuming his soul
Cut to pieces with a knife.

Fear and doubt consume
This feeble image of man.
Fumbling blindly with his claws
And searching for His plan.

Hope and empathy abound;
Compassion and love as well.
Laughing, though, go the strong,
Prancing through this Hell.

To care is but a crutch;
The wicked know this as truth.
And through eyes grown green,
Weak struggle and search for proof.

Power is knowing a lesson
Most difficult to learn.
That while the world is up in flames,
Best to sit and watch it burn.

The good; they will gasp, and
The mouths of men will gape.
But in the truth of harsh words,
There can be little escape.

So then, let us all let go,
And finally have a chance to see;
How little conflict will remain
Once we embrace apathy.

The folly of man is weakness,
And with the setting sun,
Leave me with my fears and doubts;
For my words here are done.

A River Ran Through...

As the journey continues, the three remaining troops soldier on towards the glacier and Crow Hut, their eventual resting place for the evening. Beginning the descent immediately, their goal dangled before their eyes.


The dangers were apparent in each step they took, as death eyed them from below. Winding down a narrow path that led towards the trail that would lead them to Crow Hut, it became increasingly important to avoid looking too far to the left or right.


Though it is difficult to gauge the true height, it should be noted that the bottom of this ravine represents a 3,000 foot drop in elevation. And it was very steep; one false step and there would be little to stop a person from tumbling the full distance.

Comforting.

This, obviously, did not lessen the amount of photographs taken. When surrounded by nothing but towering mountains and snow-capped peaks, there is little else to do but hike and admire.


Though the group was unaware of it at the time, they would soon have to descend much quicker than they imagined. About to overtake a group of students from a neighboring university, the three trampers made a point to stop and take one final photograph before the most laborious and perilous leg of the journey was to commence.



There would be time for more staged photos later; at the moment, there was but one task in store for the three.

Descend to Crow Hut without being killed.

The hike to the summit took about three to four hours to complete. The scramble down the steep cliff before the glacier, dropping over 3,000 feet, was completed in under an hour. Perhaps made obvious by this point, it should be made abundantly clear that this was a very serious drop-off.

Shimmying down the cliff, the only available footing was loose rock. Normally, this would not present any issues, but given the size of the group (now ballooned to eight with the addition of the other students), a new danger emerged.

Traveling in a tight pack, it was entirely possible for a person near the rear to jar a rock loose, and depending on the size, causing it to race and tumble into others with the potential for serious injury.


This arrangement resulted in leaving certain positions undesirable. The following is one:


Eventually, for reasons that are easily understood when considering this photograph, the tight-knit approach was abandoned for a mindless sprint down the remaining 2,000 feet. Not only was it decided that it was easier to traverse the cliff at a higher rate of speed, but after several somewhat careless incidents involving the other group of students freeing large rocks (and several bruised ankles of the three original trampers), the notion of loyalty to the pack seemed foolish.

So the sprint was on.

Arriving in the valley of the glacier considerably faster than the five random travelers, the ice-covered mass loomed larger than ever.


From the base of the glacier, the walk to Crow Hut was comparatively easy, along a riverbed that hinted at its mightiness in the height of spring. Being the twilight of summer, the only visible evidence stemming from the glacier was a faint waterfall that continuously ran from the ice.

Walking along this river, the three soon ran into a tiny stream of absolute purity. If one is not familiar with a glacial river, then one does not truly understand the icy brilliance it contains. It would be hard to find a cleaner and more serene source of water in this world, and if such a source does exist, it may parallel this river, but certainly does not surpass.


As the sun began to slip behind the walls imposed by the surrounding mountains, the three travelers finally came upon Crow Hut. Humble as it was, it represented home for the night, and the three were certainly happy to have made it in one piece.


However, demonstrating the true character of the group, all three freely elected to bypass the hut and instead pitched camp on the long wisps of grass that grew nearby. When one spends their life confined within walls, it becomes necessary to rebel whenever the opportunity presents itself.

And a happier rebellion may never have taken place.


Tomorrow promised at least one challenge: the three would still be wandering through riverbeds over 140 kilometers from Christchurch, and with little prospects of eliminating that distance.

On this night, however, they slept under the naked sky and away from such worries, swept away in the intoxicating atmosphere of stars and glaciers, of nature and solitude.

The Kea that Led to a Glacier - Pt. 2

NOTE: Continued from previous post...

Ah, there's that group photo. Seems as if technology is not a fan of this blog...

Anyways, as with the trampers at Avalanche Peak, we shall persevere.

With the treeline now behind them, the group could look up and see the task ahead. Intimidating as it was, too much time had already passed to settle for anything less than the summit. So that is where they headed.

Though not as steep as some of the earlier terrain, the climb remained somewhat grueling. Glad to have escaped the dark and gloom of the forest, there was a new factor to consider: the sun.

Pounding relentlessly, overheating soon became a very real issue. Fortunately, stopping and taking a rest was often beneficial in more ways than one might expect.

And so it continued for some time. Though the path was well-worn, it was a tiring one. Little words were exchanged as the grind continued, slowly creeping closer to the summit.

To stare up towards the top was to be tempted to yield. Though so much sweat, so much energy was being expended, the peak seemed to exist only in the distance. The hike had been going on for several hours now, yet to gaze upwards would lead one to think that no ground at all had been gained.

But discouraged? This group?

Hardly.

As the elevation continued to climb along with the sun in the late morning sky, the travelers stayed true to themselves.

Yes, I am referring to the group shot.

It was said that there would be more. And even more yet...

As evident from this photo, the terrain had changed yet again. The combination of grass, rock, and path had ceased to exist. In its place now remained only the rock, with it mainly a heap of smaller broken bits, leaving some very unstable and unpredictable footing.

This, however, was a good sign; the group was that much closer to the peak.

And they could sense it.


Suddenly, with one final push, the snow-capped mountain tops came firmly into view.

Awe soon set in, yet the feeling was set aside just as quickly. The summit was still several hundred meters away, and there would be plenty of time for gazing aimlessly in a few short minutes.

Yet, with the summit clearly within sight, the trampers stopped for a few more photographs. Though it is hard to make out, rest assured that if any one of the following individuals were to take several steps backwards, they would have plummeted to their death.


Cameron and Fabian.


Jon.


Geoff and Stephen.

Now, having wasted a little more time admiring the view, the group finally walked the last 50 meters to the summit.

Over six hours after dragging themselves out of bed and into a van, they now all stood at the top of Avalanche Peak and reflected on their accomplishment.

And they did so over lunch.


Avalanche Peak towers 1,833 meters above sea level. That's over 6,00o feet. Why include this information?

Well, for starters, to give some perspective on the group's accomplishment. Not the largest peak in the world (or even the country), but not too shabby either.

And also to highlight the absurdity of what happened next.

Sitting there, eating lunch and enjoying our 360-degree view of bliss, a familiar face showed up.


The kea!

Though impossible to say whether it was the exact bird from earlier in the day, it was widely agreed that it must be.

I mean... isn't it a cooler story that way?

Sadly, for three members of the group, this is where the story ends. Awaiting them after lunch was a hike back down the same trail, eventually ending in the van and a safe ride back to Christchurch.

But for Geoff, Jon, and Stephen, the quest would continue. Onwards to Crow Hut for the night, where they intended to sleep under a glacier.

However, the adventure would only begin from there. Approximately 140 kilometers from Christchurch, Sunday afternoon would find all three out of food and with no ride home. How would it turn out?

Check back for the conclusion to the Arthur Passe adventure!

In closing, please enjoy the following photographs, all snapped at the summit of Avalanche Peak.

The Kea that Led to a Glacier

NOTE: I have to extend a very sincere and heartfelt token of my appreciation to everyone taking the time to read my musings. I try to put effort into every post, and it's really great to have heard some positive feedback. As some of you may know, I've had some computer issues for the past two weeks, hence my infrequent updates. But those problems have been resolved, and I am dedicated to catching up on my New Zealand adventures. Again, thank you for the support! Now to the tale...

On Saturday, March 6, six students awoke before the sun had broken over the horizon. One may suspect that only an obligation such as school could pry so many individuals out of bed after an eventful Friday night, but, unbelievably, each acted willingly.

Piling into a van with little more than a mattress for a backseat, the group headed west towards Arthur's Passe, a well-known location with remarkable mountain ranges, challenging and scenic backpacking, and snow-covered glaciers. Perhaps it's not so difficult to understand why sleep would be sacrificed after all. Then again, the two hour drive did manage to fly by when sitting on that mattress...

Following a refreshing man-on-man snuggle session, Arthur's Passe burst into full view. Mountains shooting out of the earth on every side, there seemed to be only a narrow valley to allow for civilization, and only a little at that.

Running along a river, there was only one road leading in and out of Arthur's Passe. Several cafes and bars were the only establishments readily accessible, contributing to the feeling of isolation that the group was experiencing.

They were not daunted.

Several shots in the heart of Arthur's Passe:


Then, suddenly, as the group was preparing to make their way to the beginning of the trail, something seemingly innocent happened. A bird, a kea to be exact, landed on a car directly next to them.

Remaining long enough to be photographed by several onlookers, the kea was certainly quite curious. Relatively large in size, the bird's color was its most striking feature, with the exception of its rather large, leathery talons, which it loudly clicked against the roof of the car as it walked.

Finally, letting out an alarming cry, it vanished into the air, disappearing almost as fast as it had first appeared.

The group then headed for the start of the Avalanche Peak Track. Little thought was given to the kea as the hike began, but as the group would soon discover, it would not be the last appearance of the bird on this day.

Immediately the forest surrounded, and little could be seen through the thick brush. Moving rather slowly, as the ascent to Avalanche Peak began suddenly, the trampers stopped only when compelled by the scenery.

If one theme quickly emerged during the hike, it was that of the group photograph. Generally accepted by everyone as the best method of documentation as the battled large rocks and steep scrambles, they were snapped at nearly every opportunity.

There will be more.

As the group of six fought their way up the mountain, their environment began to change. No longer were they surrounded by the green and leafy forest; instead a very different scene began to unfold.

It is hard to describe the eeriness of being enclosed by such a bizarre and dense cluster of trees. Barely being able to see beyond 10 feet, the climb understandably slowed through here, as the group weaved their way through this strange forest.

Eventually, two things happened. First, the travelers finally pushed above the treeline, leaving the forest and its darkness for good. This also allowed them the opportunity to marvel at their progress.

And second, they now had a perfect excuse to take yet another group photo. Except this time, they managed to find a way to include the entire group.


NOTE: Technical issues - see next post for continuation

The Cricket Match

In the United States, baseball is unquestionably known as America's Pastime. In New Zealand, it is not.

As an avid baseball enthusiast (understatement?), the prospect of going for months without watching my beloved sport grieved me deeply. Desperately seeking a fix only three weeks into my stay in Christchurch, word began to spread of an upcoming cricket match between New Zealand and Australia.

To be sure, baseball is not cricket, and cricket is not baseball. Yes, there are similarities, but the more you come to know each, you realize that the differences far outnumber these. Yet a grudge match between teams is always enjoyable, and it is safe to say that there was a certain amount of nationalism at work in the week leading up to the match.

Securing a ticket, expectations were mixed, but I was excited for my first taste of real cricket. And walking up to the stadium, I found myself in a familiar scene.

On this night, February 28, the Blackcaps of New Zealand met Australia in Christchurch's AMI Stadium, about 20 minutes from Canterbury.

At first glance, one might confuse this for any American sporting event, particularly baseball. However, as you passed through the gates and entered the depths of the stadium, certain irregularities began to stand out.

Not exactly Fenway Park.

But still, many stadiums have bizarre mascots. Many teams have little gimmicks for the crowds. And this makes sense, because at the end of the day, sports are entertainment. It's not enough to provide the athletic competition; you have to sell the entire experience.

And yet...

This stand jumped out immediately. Located within the stadium as any food or beer stand would be, a person could walk in and place bets on the match that was about to be played.

Is this not amazing? Why doesn't every MLB, NFL and NBA arena/stadium have a stand like this one? I think I can actually hear Jordo tensing up at the mere thought... Calm down, buddy.

As with any sporting event, the most exhilarating point is the moment where the field of play first comes into view. Walking through a narrow tunnel, the field, the crowd and the stadium all explode into sight at once. Regardless of your level of interest, I cannot fathom how one cannot be overwhelmed at such a moment. It gets me every time.

Not trying to go overboard with the technical lingo, the following are the general rules for a 2o/20 cricket match, such as the one played on this night:

There are two wickets separated by about 60 feet. The batting team tries to protect these at all costs, which means that there are always two batsmen on the field, one in front of each wicket.

One team bats while the other fields, and then they switch. There is no jumping back and forth like in baseball.

The batting team is allowed 10 wickets (outs) or 20 overs. An over consists of 6 balls, or pitches. This means that if a batting team does not record 10 wickets, they will try to score as many runs as possible within 20 overs, which is 120 balls.

There are 11 players on each side. The first two batsmen begin, with the bowler (pitcher) hurling the ball towards the wicket at speeds upwards of 100 mph and the batsmen trying desperately to prevent this.

Basically, the only way a batsmen can make a wicket (out) is by allowing the bowler to hit his wicket, allowing a fielder to catch the ball in the air, or by being thrown out while running between the wickets (it's similar to pitcher's poison; if a fielder can hit the wicket with the ball while the batsmen is stuck between the two wickets, he is out).

A batsmen will hit until he is out. This means that, hypothetically, the first two batsmen can hit for all 20 overs. If one batsmen does make an out, however, he is replaced by the next man in the order.

Scoring is simple as well: a "homerun" equals six runs, a ball rolling to or over the fence is four, and anything else is a matter of how many times the batsmen can run back and forth between the wickets before the fielders can gather the ball.

Simple, right?

Well, here, look at some of these:

Though the throwing motion is vastly different from that of baseball, make no mistake about it: these guys were bringing it.

As intimidating as a 90 mph pitch can be when it's fired at you from 60 feet, cricket bowlers take it to another level. Often beginning their delivery 60-80 feet from where they actually release the ball, the bowler will sprint towards the batsmen, gathering incredible momentum to be used to their advantage. One cannot imagine the anxiety the batsmen must feel as the bowler runs forward, kicking his legs and flailing his arms in preparation for sending the ball hurtling towards the wicket. It is an impressive display.

On this night, one New Zealander stole the show far more than any other. Brendan McCullum, batting for New Zealand, put on quite the show.

Putting up 116 of New Zealand's 214 runs, McCullum (42) teed off on Australia's bowlers all night, including the most impressive shot of the night, a 6 that he seemed to pluck off of his shoes.

Thanks in large parts to the efforts of McCullum, New Zealand held a comfortable lead as Australia came to bat. Needing 215 runs for their victory, the Aussies trailed by 10 runs heading into their 20th and final over.

The stands, which had been rather unruly for the vast majority of the contest, now grew noticeably tenser. The victory which the mob had been confident in only moments before now seemed to be slipping away, and every ball became increasingly critical.

Admittedly, I asked a foolish question early in the match:

"What happens if the match ends in a tie?"

Apparently this is such a rare circumstance that most people, even most cricket fans, are unclear as to what exactly the rules are. Call it foreshadowing if you'd like, but as Australia trailed by two runs with five balls done in the final over, anything was possible.

As the bowler began his slow jog building into a sprint, silence fell across the crowd. The Aussie batsmen cocked his back, stepped forward, and sent the ball shooting towards the gap. If it rolled to the fence, Australia would have won the match. While the fielders raced to try to cut it off, the batsmen sprinted back and forth between the wickets, attempting to make the matter of the fence irrelevant.

A New Zealand fielder dove in front of the ball, cut if off... but then bobbled it. Australia had already scored two runs to tie the match, and after witnessing the fielder muff the ball, intensified their pursuit for the third.

The fielder gathered the ball and fired it in as the runner raced forward, stretching his bat out in an effort to cross the line before the fielder could hit the wicket. It would be close...

But the Aussie was out! Tie game! An incredible ending to the 20th over, and the crowd erupted in a mixture of relief and disappointment, as both teams were now tied.

The "extra innings" proved to be anti-climatic; both teams got to bat one final over to determine the winner.

Australia batted first and put up a very weak showing, not even scoring six runs. With McCullum back and batting for New Zealand, the Aussies' hopes were finally crushed when they were stuck with the loss following their valiant comeback.

Leaving the stadium, many people were overheard talking about how great of a match had just been played. The excitement and jubilation were contagious; it was difficult to not walk out shaking your head and wondering, "What did I just see?"

Well, it was cricket.

And while baseball will continue to be missed, the match between the Blackcaps and Australia is proof that sports will never cease to amaze, regardless of how they are presented.