Monday, April 26, 2010

Frank's Failure

Apologies go out for the lack of attention paid to the writing lately. Something about the Kiwi lifestyle makes motivation of any kind difficult to summon and, frankly, there are many better things to do with one's time. But now, realizing I have to write about events that are just over a month old, the urgency to transform memory into word has been revitalizing.

Or so we will see.

So trying to remember where the story left off... Oh, yes.

It was the end of the day on Saturday, April 3, and the group of three had just finished exploring Fox Glacier on the west coast of New Zealand. Even after the long day, they rushed through their dinner and prepared to get back on the road again, needing to travel for several hours that evening to get to their next destination, Arthur's Pass.

Before there is anything said about that, it seems important to give one's perspective on driving in New Zealand, as it is certainly different from anywhere on east coast of the United States.

How best to summarize the experience in a concise manner?

Lawless.

While there must be long stretches of empty highway surrounded by only fields and mountains in the U.S., almost the entire highway system of NZ seems to be like this. A single lane stretching in each direction, in order for a car to pass another it must venture into the oncoming lane and quickly whip in front.

Beware the blind corners.

The lack of police presence is also felt on the road. Though the speed is marked as 100 kilometers/hour on most highways, it is not uncommon to see no more than one or two cops while covering a distance upwards of 400 kilometers. This, of course, means that for the vast majority of any road trip conducted in NZ, there are few deterrents from excessive speeding.

Well, there is one, actually.

Blue Wonder lacks the power to really take advantage of the situation. With a top speed of 172 kph (106 mph), the potential for all sorts of land speed records to be shattered will never be realized. Alas.

On the trip from Fox Glacier to Arthur's Pass, however, the car's personal record was not even threatened. This is because that shortly after the group hopped into the car, a light rain began to fall. This light rain increased to a steady drizzle, which later escalated into a complete downpour. Combined with the winding mountain roads, this made the drive slower in every conceivable way.

Arriving in Arthur's Pass well after dark, the rain had not let up at all. In fact, though it hadn't seemed possible during the drive, it had actually gotten harder. Crawling through the town in search of a suitable camping spot, spirits were somewhat subdued.

Several factors were at play while trying to find a location to camp in. First of all, there are few free camping sites within town borders, and Arthur's Pass is no exception. This means that any spot chosen to camp in must be relatively hidden. Also, because of the rain on this particular night, a sheltered location was certainly ideal.

Remote camping site? No problem.

Protection from the rain? Issues.

Pulling off the road and attempting a very small amount of off-roading, a suitable camping spot was soon secured. However, it offered little shelter as the rain continued to fall steadily. Sitting in the car, there was little to do but wait and hope. Yet the rain refused to relent.

Time continued to pass as the night slowly crept towards the day. Still they sat in the car and still the rain pounded down upon the roof.

Eventually, they realized that the consistent drops had been reduced to a steady drizzle. Knowing that the weather was more likely to be on pause than to be stopping altogether, they made their move.

Hopping out of the car, the trunk was popped and Frank was grabbed. Assembling him as quickly as possible, he was staked to the ground, had a rain fly thrown across him, and then stuffed full of sleeping mats and bags. A little bit of water had found its way into the tent, but for the most part Frank remained dry.

Slowly pulling themselves into their sleeping bags, a collective sigh was slowly exhaled. Warm and dry in Arthur's Pass, they could finally get some rest and prepare for the next day's hiking...



As soon as their eyes opened, they knew something was wrong. Moisture in the tent in the morning is nothing new or unexpected, but this amount of water was troubling. Something was very wrong.

The error was discovered quickly. Jumping out of the tent, the failure to stake out the rain fly was illuminated by the early sunlight. Because the rain fly was not pulled off of the tent, water was free to trickle down and into the side, soaking sleeping bags and clothing while Frank's inhabitants slept.

Overall, a pretty awful way to begin any day. But maybe made even worse with the knowledge that the day's hiking would be done in wet clothing.

With a wet sleeping bag waiting after a long day.

To be slept in inside a wet tent.

To be set up on the wet ground, as the rain continued to fall throughout the night and into the morning.

As a result, an audible was called at the line. Instead of camping again that evening, the group decided that it would still try to hike during the day, but then head back to Christchurch that evening. That meant fresh food, showers, warm clothing... that meant civilization. And when wet and cold in the middle of the woods, that meant everything.

Instead of one long hike, the group decided to do a series of shorter trails. Instead of narrating them all, photographs have been provided below.



The stream that had to be crossed prior to beginning on the first trail. The gray and hazy sky was a central theme of the day.


It wasn't nearly as "steep and rugged" as the sign suggested. However, it was "slick and perilous". I'm not sure which gives more of a reason to pause.


The destination of the first trail.



"I'm haunted by waters."


As the sun began to sink behind the gray horizon, the group decided they had had enough of hiking and sloshed their way back to the car. Though only gone for a few days, a lot of distance had been covered and they were excited for the comforts of home.

However, the April break was still very young. The epic adventures were only beginning. With the reunion of many students during the second week of break, the real plans could be put into action.

Sunday night the three students drove back to the University of Canterbury, excited to sleep in a warm bed.

It would be one of the few nights over April break where such a luxury was available.

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