Poem

You knit me a sweater in my dream last night.

First it was blue.

Then it was white.

It was a pretty scalloped pattern.

It was actually crochet.

A t-shirt sweater.

And unfinished.

But you were so proud.

And I was so happy.

Journal Excerpts from the Rees Dart Track

Day 1: Bus from Queenstown to Glenorchy, bus from Glenorchy to trail head.  Dropped off with 5 other trampers.  Two Canadians, one solo Calafornian, and a father/son duo from Australia.  First half of the day was sunny.  Walked through private pasture land.  Mostly flat but parts of the trail have been washed away by the recent flooding.  Some creativity required.  Some dry trail but most of the first 4 hours were boggy.  Multiple river crossings.  Afternoon, rain.  Left flats and began ascending as we entered Mount Aspiring National Park.  9 hours to hut. 

Day 2: Cloudy, turning to snow around lunch time.  Passed over Rees Saddle.  Snow, rain, sleet, then sunshine.  Slippery decent to hut.  Arrived at Dart hut before 4pm.

"Morning Coffee-Dart Hut"

Day 3: Despite some soreness, I feel better than I have for a long time.  An hour of stretching and then a pack free day hike to the Dart Glacier and then Cascade Saddle.  A rather technical track.  Lots of water crossings, steep, and many areas have no trail.  Glad I didn't have a pack on today.  To the top and back, 10 hours (for me), shorter for Chad because he ran back to poop.  (There are no broad leafed plants on the trail.  And no one likes to wipe with scree.)

Day 4: Downpours.  Rest day at Dart hut.  Turned sunny in the afternoon.  On a recommendation from the warden, I went on a hike, off the trail through the bush, along a ridge line.  Made several mistakes here: One, I wore sandals in order to keep my boots dry for tomorrow.  Sandflies were ruthless to my ankles. Two, my thin pants do nothing to ward off attacks from the speargrass which can puncture skin with the slightest contact.  Three, should've found myself a walking stick.  Once in the low bush, the ground is irregularly covered with dense mosses, shrubs, and grasses, and it's difficult to see where solid ground is.  So with my sore legs and inadequate clothing I made my way through a foreign landscape and found myself a cozy moss cover rock to sit on and overlook the river.  Not long before the sandflies were making a feast of my feat and I resigned myself to the fact that today was not a day for adventures.  Quick dip in the river.  Breath takingly cold.

Day 5:  Fast pace.  Our companions left yesterday so just Chad and I on the trail. Chad coming down with a cold.  My mouth is breaking out in coldsores.  Getting low on fuel.

Day 6:  Final day.  I want to be done walking but I'm not ready to be out of the woods.  Save for a trail detour at a major river washout area, trail is not very technical.  Plenty of time to dwell on our imminent return to Queenstown and civilization.  Feeling like a child as I drag my feet.  In my best whine, I want to shout, "but I don't wanna go!"

Favorite part on the trip: the challenge of organizing and cooking good, nourishing (and light) food.  As we've done in the past, Chad organized the route while I planned the food.  That way are never short of an adventure and our bellies are always full.  Lessons learned regarding meal planning and cooking:
1. You only have so much fuel.  (The coal fired stoves in the huts were an added-and necessary-bonus on this trip.)
2. It's impossible to make biscuits over a stove that only has a setting for high heat.  Next time, I'm making soup and dropping in the biscuits like dumplings.  On the third night, I got so frustrated making biscuits that i went to bed hungry and let Chad eat the whole backpacker meal.
3. A two serving backpacker meal feeds one Chad
4. Chad's aluminum camp pots that he's had since he was 8 are not indestructible.  Nor are the sporks

Bragging point: Besides the 1 dehydrated backpacker meal we bought, I made all the meals from scratch, dehydrating veggies from the garden in the earth oven before we left.  I think the other folks in the huts were a little jealous!  After watching all of them choke down meals from a bag night after night, I new the extra weight was worth it. 

Pleasant surprise upon leaving the trail: Hans, the driver that picked us up at the end of the trail, was a great storyteller and full of fun facts on life and the trials of living in rural New Zealand.  Plus, he was the animal trainer for the Lord of the Rings movies.  Seems like everyone here has a connection to the films.  His other accounts were of packing coal in on horseback up to the backcountry huts with his daughters when they were little, working as a chef in Queenstown when money was tight, and most recently, how he lost his garden and his pigs in the recent flood of the Rees river.  He and "The Cook" had to climb a tree to escape the rising waters and after living on their farmlet for 30 years, for the first time are thinking about selling and moving on to a new adventure.

Why We Tramp:  Before leaving for our trip, a friend of mine (who would never dream of spending a night in the woods) asked me just why one would want to "do this."  I gave her a few reasons why I like to hike, camp, carry a 45lb. pack up mountains and across rivers, etc. but I also asked people we encountered along the way to see what they had to say.  Here are some responses I got.
"To be in nature." -Pat
"I'm inspired by the pioneersmen.  I want to be like Lewis and Clark, or Jeremiah Johnson.  To feel the high of being on a dirt path." -Andrew
"Punishment and reward." -Chad
"To get away from the office and test myself, to see beautiful scenery, and to do it while I still can." -Terry
"The scenery, the quiet, and the amazing country. (Not for the self torture.)" -Ben
"It has something to do with my relationship to the plant.  Freedom."
"For the sense of achievement and the views."
"To get away from the madness of the modern world."
"It's the closest I can get to another universe."
"To get out of cell phone range."

The common themes seem to be to either get away from something-work, society, technology, or to go to something-wildlife, stunning landscapes, nature.  Besides Chad, however, who called the labor aspect of tramping "punishment" no one seems to do it for the work and struggle required.  I find that modern technology and most areas of work, do not require much physical exertion.  It's why we need sports and gyms, and weight loss programs.  But there was a time in our collective evolution when walking with your home on your back over a mountain, across a plain, and through deserts was a part of existence.  Physical discomfort was apart of everyday life.  Bumps, bruises, a growling tummy, insect bites, and cold bath water were not out of the ordinary.   Silly as it may seem, I think I crave these things just as much as I crave that view from the top. 

Back in the Saddle

Exhibit A:  Chicken on the counter pigging out.

Lizzy has been after me for a while now to sit down and take a turn back at the ol' Blog.  Well, here I am and here it is.  Life has been an absolute whirlwind for the past few months.  I have just realized it has been over two months since I have posted....

    That being said , I do believe I shall start off with where I left off last time:  With the chickens.  These ladies have become a sore spot between my lovely Lizzy and I.  And understandably so.  They have to ability to reduce Elizabeth to near tears of both anger and frustration in mere moments.  They get into everything and are garden enemy number one.  Even more so than any cold-blooded, flying, squirming, slimy, hoppy or ravenous pest.  They are indiscriminate destroyers of plants trying to get at said bugs.  They have an overwhelming urge to scratch at any, I repeat, ANY pile of mulch in search of a tasty treat.  Mind you, these piles of mulch are usually surrounding freshly planted young veggies.  While I applaud their efforts to rid the farm of all the creepy, crawly pests, their wanton destruction of plants is going to end them up in a stock pot at Lizzy's hands.
    My frustration at the issue is that they are supposed to be free-ranging poultry.  I have finally overcome my dislike of the feathered beasts and love having them around.  I just can't watch them the whole time they are out of the coop.  This is very reminiscent of our problems with Betty Blue from earlier of this year.  Take your eyes off them for a second and they are exactly where they are NOT supposed to be.  Grrr.....  Steps are being taken and plans of action are being hatched.  Pun definitely intended!  Good news is that they are all laying eggs now!

UPDATE!!!!!  NEW TRAIN!!!!!  UPDATE!!!!  NEW TRAIN!!!! 

Well,

    This post was started quite a while ago, and Lizzy has officially shamed me into getting back on the blogger horse.

    We have been back from our trip to the South Island for 7 days now and I still don't know if I'm happy to be back, or anxious for the next step.  We have worked so hard at making Uma Rapiti our home over the past 8 months that is almost seems surreal that I have to leave in less than 20 days.  There have been comedies, tragedies, breathtaking experiences, and serious doldrums.  I keep trying to focus on all the amazing things I have seen and had a chance to participate in, but I can not help but to feel sad at the potential of losing an avenue of new and incredible adventures.  As some of you are aware, Lizzy and I have been very undecided about what comes next.  We have explored the possibilities of school, employment, more farming, traveling, and pure bohemian lifestyle.  Still no answer.  We'll  keep you posted on what happens!  So, without further ado.......   on to other things!

    New years!  Holy cow New Years!  Tana and Charles decided to have a bit of a shin-dig here at the farm and invited about 15-20 of their friends to come celebrate.  And they invited their son Zev to come play music with his band.  And 30 of his friends followed.  Hilarity and good times ensued!
    New Years' day people started showing up about noon and setting up tents in our orchard.  2 at a time, 3 at a time, 5 at a time.....  Then came the slip n' slide.  100 ft. of blue tarp doused in dish soap, then liberally sprayed with the garden hose.  Dozens of drinking 20-30 somethings charging the hill provided entertainment for us all.  Followed by more drinking till the BBQ and potluck kicke  d off at about 7pm, then on with the music.  Someone forgot to tell me they were a David Bowie cover band!!!  3 hours of kick-ass music and several beers later, life was peachy!
    At midnight a ridiculous amount of high-end champagne was consumed with hugs and congratulations going around.  Followed by even more amazing music till the wee hours.  At that point, we invited what was left of the merry makers down to our side of the property for fire and wind down.  Sometime around 4am everyone meandered to there sleeping quarters.
    The next morning Lizzy and I took what was left of the rabble-rousers down to the beach for a morning sobering/hang-over cure swim.  Followed by us cooking a large buffet-style breakfast and more lounging through the early afternoon hours.  What a way to spend New Years!

    After New Years we pretty much kept ourselves busy awaiting our next big adventure:  Vacation to the South Island!  Lizzy has already made a brief post including some pictures, but I will be adding to it as soon as I get my photos in order.

-Cheers!

South Island Trip

I've got all of my photos uploaded from our trip to the South Island!  We're back at the farm, now and getting back into our groove.  The trip was amazing and I'll write more about it, but the trip was only two weeks and I feel like I've spent just as long up loading photos, so for now the captions will have to suffice.  The link to view them is to the right.  Enjoy!

Sunshine!

So "100 Days in the Garden" only lasted 50, but I think perhaps I'll attempt the other half some time in the future.  After vacation.  Vacation!  Chad and I are going to the South Island next week!  We're going to spend a week on the trail and then another week laying low, doing some sight seeing, and hanging out with some friends.  To add to the excitement, Matt and Kelly are visiting this week, finishing off their trip in New Zealand on Waiheke with us.  They've just finished a tour of the South Island and hearing them talk and seeing pictures is making me even more anxious.  But first it's a week of laying on the beach and vineyard tours (and fishing, of course) with the not so newly wed newlyweds.

The garden changes every day.  Because of the way that I plant (quite scattered and close together) no one seems to think there is much of anything edible in there.  But if you look under here there are cucumbers.  And back here are some ripe turnips, and you can't see them but there are beans behind the raspberries.  And, Chad, how dare you tell me that we don't have any beets in the garden.  There are plenty.  It just requires some Catherine Zeta-Jones 'Entrapment' moves to reach them. 

I wonder what will happen if I ever go back to row cropping?

Thanksgiving at Uma Rapiti

"The wind is in from Africa, last night I couldn't sleep...."

After much debate about whether we should celebrate Thanksgiving on Thursday or Friday (Thursday in the States) we settled on Thursday-mostly so we could rest our aching bodies for a day from the fencing job we're doing.

It's 11am.  The oven fire is going.  The three wwoofers went down to the water to catch fish for dinner.  Chad, not confident in their ability to catch us our main course, has gone into town to buy some variety of poultry.  That leaves me alone to start the breads.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  I've got Joni Mitchell playing on the stereo (a staple in the kitchen from when Matt and I used to cook together in Denver), two loaves rising in the greenhouse, and I'm about to start a third.

"I remember that time you told me-you said 'love is touching souls.'  Surely you touch mine 'cause part of you pours out of me in these lines from time to time...."


9pm: Bellies are full of fish, chicken, kumara, veggies, bread and dessert (four of them).  Dishes are washed, garden is watered, and company's gone.  Time to sit around the campfire and digest, listening to guitar and watching the stars. 

TED Talks and 100 Days in the Garden

Last weekend I ventured "into town" (as Waihekians say) to attend TEDx Auckland and came away filled with awe and inspiration.  TED, which stands for Technology, Entertainment, Design, started in 1984 as a platform for sharing and spreading the ideas of the "world's most fascinating thinkers and doers".  Some speakers are world famous, some are well-known in their field, and others have never spoken in public before.  All of the talks are under 20 minutes, are recorded live, and available online.  If you've never watched any TED talks, or if you're in the need of some inspiration, no matter what field you're interested in, check them out at ted.com.  

The TEDx talks in Auckland were all by people either from or living in New Zealand.  There were 19 different speakers or performers, ranging from a documentary filmmaker to a dental surgeon to a physicist to a synchronized swimmer.  The group was incredibly diverse.  A couple of the ideas talked about I had heard of before, others were completely new to me.  Some of the speeches on technology were a bit beyond me, as was the fact that everyone and their brother had their iphone out and was tweeting throughout the entire event.  At one of the intermissions, while discussing the previous talk regarding soundtracks to accompany electronic books, I made the mistake of making the comment that I'd prefer to read a paperback.  I was promptly accused of being a Luddite.  It's true that I felt a bit out place seated between someone taking notes on their ipad and someone tip-tapping away on their macbook while I spent the intermissions knitting socks, but there's something to be said about leaving the house without phone or computer or gps.  It's very freeing.  And I knew that no matter what I wore, nothing in my wardrobe could match the classiness of Aucklanders, so I just wore all black with hopes that even with the stains I'd be classified and dismissed as "one of those creative types." 

Speaking of creative types, one of my favorite talks was by Emma Rogan, a designer who founded New Zealand's 100 Days Project.  She borrowed the idea from a Yale art professor who asked students to create something everyday for 100 days within the parameters of their choosing.  It could be any medium but had to be documented.  Rogan decided to try this out for herself and open up the project to creative and non creative people of all ages who wanted a unique challenge-one that would be both fun and agonizing, but easier if done as a group.  She gave examples of someone who designed a dress every day for 100 days, someone who wrote a haiku about her family, someone who learned a new word.  As she spoke, my mind raced with ideas.  What would I, could I do for 100 days?  Crochet an afghan square, cook a new dish, draw a still life, weave a basket?  On the ferry ride home from Auckland I was thinking about writing up a blog post about the event and the thought occurred to me that I should incorporate my own 100 days project into the blog.  And where do I spend most of my time each day?  In the garden, of course.  There are so many things about the garden that I want to share on this blog but somehow lack the motivation to sit down and write.  So, as a challenge, I am going to start "100 days in the garden."  Everyday I'll post something about the garden, whether it be a picture, an observation, a drawing, or the description of a new plant.  I know it's not going to be easy but I'm going to give it a try.   The link is on the right hand side of this page.   I was going to wait until next Thursday to start it (because every endeavor such as this should begin on a Thursday if it is to have any chance of being completed) but Chad says that this sounds like an excuse to procrastinate so I guess I'll begin today.  If I don't complete it I'm blaming it on the fact that I began on a Saturday.  Who starts a project like this on Saturday?  And a windy Saturday, nonetheless.  A windy, raining sideways, Saturday.  But, really, what have I got to lose?