Edit: This is an old update that I had to re-post because the formatting was screwy. Sorry for the confusion. I'm sure to have something interesting to say within the week. I hope. =)
I want to apologize for the lack of updates recently. There’s no good reason for it aside from my own inability to plop my butt down on this stool and start typing – something that, once you do it on a regular basis, begins to feel more like work than fun. And that’s the double-edged sword of writing. When it’s good, when I’m enjoying it, it’s truly one of the most fulfilling experiences I can have. And when you first get inspired to start writing something, this blog for example, you feel as though you’re doing it voluntarily (which is, of course, the truth even now) and your creative mind is on fire, and words literally leap onto the page before you know it. Then it gets harder. It always gets harder. The peculiar phenomenon of writing is that it is one of the few things in this world that the more you do it, the more you learn, the harder and harder it gets.
But enough! This blog is not my virtual notepad for unloading the woes of my own writer’s block – a slippery slope indeed, since when one can’t think of anything to write it’s easy to succumb to the urge to write about that.Yet here I am, halfway around the world from my place I call home, having new experiences ‘on the regular’ and I dare complain that there is nothing to write about. Of course there is.
The highlight, recently, was spending a weekend at National Park at a friend’s bach (which I’ve been told I’ve been incorrectly spelling as ‘batch,’ short for bachelor). Along with two friends (Will and Josef) I walked the Tongariro Crossing and saw arguably the most beautiful sights I’ve come across in my time here. Although Tongariro Crossing probably means nothing to most of the readers here, Mordor might ring a bell for fellow Lord of the Rings fans. I hadn’t expected another opportunity to arise during my time here to experience another LOTR location, and it wasn’t until I was literally standing at the summit of an enormous, ice-peaked mountain that I was informed it was the Mt. Doom. The geek inside me almost couldn’t control itself.
Unfortunately, I’ve fallen under somewhat of a technological curse on this trip when it comes to cameras. The first night I arrived I dropped mine on the sandy beach, sending it straight to “Lens Error” hell never to return. My mother was kind enough to mail me hers, which I’ve yet to destroy in a similar fashion but plagued nonetheless by constant issues, mostly of my doing. On one particular trip, I brought the camera but not the memory card – on another, the camera but not the battery. On this trip, however, I remembered to bring everything. And thus, the Gods of Canon Digital Cameras saw fit to punish me. With an entirely new error that I’d never knew existed: “Memory Card Error.” I felt like Michael Bolton from Office Space (“PC Load Letter? What the (profanity) is that?”).
Sad to say, I currently have no pictures of this wondrous trip (wondrous is a terrible adjective, by the way, but as I said – it gets harder). However, my friend Josef was sure to take dozens upon dozens of pictures that I will soon acquire so that I can share with you my experience in Lord of The Ringsdom.
Just a few details about the hike: It was long. Really long. Roughly 21k (13 miles), which doesn’t even begin to do it justice because nearly half of that was a grueling uphill battle while the other half was an equally-slash-more painful down (note: knees begin to give out long before your 30s). Also, unlike most of my weekend adventures with Will, this hike was packed with people. I mean hundreds. This hike is the second most popular in New Zealand and this was certainly evident within the first 20 minutes, when I heard accents and languages from all around the world as we continually passed people along the way. Also a side note: people don’t like to be “passed.” For whatever reason, even though one might acknowledge they’re not in the best of shape, they don’t need three young men in clearly better shape to remind them. We received quite a few unfriendly stares (probably French. Haha, just kidding. But seriously). One woman even exclaimed “there goes them boys again passing everyone!” We wore these intended insults as a badge of honor.
My final observation before I end this much-needed update. Hiking for the masses can be a hilarious experience. Toward the end of this epic trek through Mordor I began to notice a pattern. It began as a subtle grumble, an occasional “are we there yet?” (okay, that one was me) but soon escalated into what can best be described as the baa-ing of sheep, an overlapping noise of people complaining of tiredness, soreness, hunger(ness!?). The smiles of mother nature’s beauty were turned upside down at the thoughts of warm showers and hot food. Happiness had – to appropriately steal a quote from Lord of the Rings – suddenly “forsaken this land.” In the end, nobody wanted to be walking aimlessly anymore. And to that, I wonder, why people would voluntarily make themselves so miserable when there are plenty of things in this world to do it for them. No matter where you go in the world, you can’t get away from the masochists.
That concludes this update. Hope you’re still reading. Sorry if you thought I’d given up on this. Love you and miss you all.
Fit as a fiddle,
John
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Far From Home
A few days ago I returned from my 1-week trip at Will's holiday batch on Kawau Island. The week consisted of mostly relaxing, reading and grilling out every evening. We gave ourselves a rest from technology and left the Internet and television behind, which, aside from not being able to stay in touch with those close to me (and yet, so far away), was pretty refreshing.
Throughout the week we'd come up with little activities between our long reading sessions to keep things fresh. For starters, each day we'd run out to the end of the wharf and dive headfirst into the beautiful blue. Or, rather, Will would dive while Andrew (a friend of ours) and I attempted to mimic the technique. It appears that diving - like whistling - is one of those things I missed out on in my childhood. And, just like whistling, it's not exactly the easiest thing to pick up later in life. It basically went down like this: Will attempts a pretty basic dive, provides some pretty basic information, and I pretty-much complicate the hell out of it with my then failed attempt. In doing so, I somehow managed to harm parts of my body that should never be hitting the water in such painful ways. Once even, I landed face-first. Which is mighty impressive, sicne I was pretty confident that my hands, which came in a close second, were in front of my face. Pain. Lots of pain.
Of course, no trip would be complete with Will if it didn't include a few walks, so we were able to see a lot of the island as long as weather allowed (which, for the most part, it did). And, along the way, I remembered to bring my camera and took plenty of pictures of this mini utopia.A few more friends joined us during the week and we spent our evenings as any young adults on a near-deserted island with a fridge full of alcohol would: drinking. As not to suggest to readers that this was merely a pointless and unrewarding event during my week, I'd like to point out - au contraire - it was quite educational. During our evenings I learned a little about New Zealand drinking culture and will be taking back with me a few hilarious drinking games to share with friends. I'm sure my parents are so proud.
I'm past the halfway mark of my trip now and I'm starting to have a feeling of urgency. Part of me - the part that has been ingrained in my brain since I left adolescence - feels that I've accomplished nothing. Thus far I have published no work abroad or stepped foot inside a newsroom other than to speak with an editor about my interest in finding work - paid or unpaid. But, the other part of me, the part of me that likes to say the hell with the rat race and the conformed attitude that success is gauged by career accomplishments, feels that I'll be coming home with so much more than I left with. For one, I have a better understanding about what matters most to me, what makes me a better person with and without certain parts of my life. I understand more now than I did as a young teen living in New Zealand how big this world is and how much bigger than me it always has been.
None of these things will brighten up my resume in the least. Thankfully, that latter part of me is the standout. And - for the moment - I'm okay with that.
Closer now,
John
Monday, March 2, 2009
A River Runs Through It
Despite my unsuccessful attempts at acquiring work thus far, I'm finding it extremely difficult to not enjoy myself. This weekend being a prime example.
Will and I, along with seven of Will's friends, went on a 3-day canoe trip down the Wanganui River this past weekend. To be more accurate, the nine of us went on what was planned to be a 3-day canoe trip, but was shortened to two due to extreme weather conditions on Saturday. Some of you who are reading this have probably seen the Wanganui River without even realizing it, as it appears in the first installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy when the fellowship of the ring (also, now that I think of it, called the fellowship of the nine) travel out of the Elvin city along the river on canoes. Before coming to New Zealand I made myself a promise that I would see something during my stay affiliated with this favorite trilogy of mine, and now I can officially check that one off the list.
We were informed by the owner's of the canoe tour (cleverly named Blazing Paddles) on Saturday morning that the winds were just too strong - along with off-and-on rain - to allow us to get on the river as planned. So, instead, the nine of us decided we'd make the best of our day and see what the area had to offer. We decided we would head to a local backpackers area that housed a climbing wall. On the way there, we realized the decision to delay the trip for a day was probably a good one. Along the road to our destination were half a dozen trees that had fallen over and blocked our way. The alpha males in our group (oh yeah - myself included) figured we could, as a group, move them out of the way. My only comfort is that none of you reading this will ever see pictures of how large these trees were, because thinking now that we even attempted such a ego-inflated act is embarrassing. Needless to say, they didn't budge.
Thankfully, we had a map, as all good adventurers should (or boy scouts - Thanks Will). We took a fairly long detour/back road that got us where we needed to go. As they say, it's the journey, not the destination. And it's times like taking hour detours in a car through one of the most gorgeous countries on this planet that you really get what that means. I won't bother attempting to detail some of the incredible countryside that I saw this past weekend (it would only be an injustice), and I can only apologize that I mistakenly left my SD card in my laptop without realizing it, rendering my camera useless.
After a few hours of rock climbing we headed to the hot springs. A nice, relaxing heated pool along with a good meal and we headed back to the lodge to finish out our day. We mostly sat around and watched movies, talked and played scrabble (under a bizarre set of made-up-on-the-spot rules), excited to start the trip on Sunday.
Thankfully, Sunday's weather was much more canoe-friendly, and we were on the river by 10 am that morning. We were split up into four canoes (seated 2 each) and one kayak for the ninth person. Will and I shared a canoe, and agreed that I should take the front ('the navigator') while he, the heavier of the two of us, took the back. Essentially my job was to 'lead' the direction of the canoe while he compensated and helped steer, along with using a bailer (a milk jug cut in half) to empty the canoe of water after heavy rapids.
This, of course, created an interesting dynamic at first. Will and I are both pretty headstrong guys. Will, even more so than myself, likes things done his way and is pretty comfortable giving orders (in a very appropriate way - since I know he's reading this I'll make sure to clarify he's by no means a pushy guy) But what Will didn't seem to grasp is that I was the navigator. The big Kahuna. The captain of this particular vessel, if you will. After having orders shouted at me for the first hour, I finally decided to put good ole' Willy in his place and let him know that when I say paddle left, he'd better be paddling left. Let's just say that Wills a great sport, and - for the most part - put up with my mini-power trip like a pro. We ended up working extremely well together and were usually the first, and sometimes only, canoe heading dead into the rapids. Granted, this backfired on more than one occasion when we smacked over the top of a too-shallow rock that we should have avoided, but I can only blame Will who was too busy laughing himself to death in the back instead of paddling. Apparently he thought my navigator persona whilst going over rapids was something to laugh at. But I take manning my vessel very seriously, and if that means I've gotta be obnoxious and proclaim 'THAR BE RAPIDS AHEAD" in my best pirate voice, then so be it.
Everyone, for the most part, handled the rapids extremely well - especially considering there was quite a bit of cabrewing going on. There was, however, one incident that gave us a little scare. Will and I had just paddled through some pretty intense rapids and were laughing away when we noticed that the rest of the group wasn't with us. We turned around and it appeared that in those ten seconds all hell had broke loose. One pair had beached their canoe upon a bank, one canoe had flipped over entirely and both the guys were clinging on to it attempting to make it to shore, all the while the kayak was stuck in a fallen tree along the bank with scary-fast rapids pouring over it, with our friend still inside.
Will and I were the only canoe in position to collect one of the water-sealed barrels that housed food/clothes from the flipped canoe. We grabbed that and then started paddling back upstream (not an easy/fun feat) to help however we could. We beached our canoe on the opposite bank of the trapped kayak and swam out as far as we could into the river to help the two that had fallen out of their canoe and were trying their best to hang on to it. While this was happening, our friend Steven, the guy in the kayak, had freed himself but was now stranded on the other side of the river. His kayak, meanwhile, was clearly trapped beneath this fallen tree in the water. We carried two canoes up along the bank until we were far enough along to attempt to get Steven and the kayak out. The other pair grabbed Steven, while Will and I attempted to loosen the kayak from the tree. Let me just say this was by far the most frustrating moment of the entire trip. We made a perfect line along the rapids to bring us along side the kayak, only to find that it was indeed very stuck. After a few minutes of struggling with every means possible to kick it free, we lost our hold on the tree and were pulled back down river. Another pair gave it an attempt and, this time, the kayak was freed after one of the girls (who, to be honest, had more guts than any of us guys), decided to climb OUT of the canoe along the fallen tree and free the kayak with her hands, then let herself float along the rapids (with the aid of a life jacket, of course) to the other shore.
Apparently what happened is that one of the canoes took on too much water during that stretch of rapid, which in turn caused it to capsize from the weight. Steven saw this happening so he attempted to help but got caught in a strong rapid that slammed him against the opposite bank, along the fallen tree where he was trapped. Incidentally, Steven put himself at the most risk as he was pulled under water by the pressure of the rapids and - ironically - held there because his life preserver kept him from being able to go deep enough under the water to come out the other side. Considering the obvious panic he was in, he handled the situation really well and was able to break away from the kayak and onto shore.
The entire incident lasted over an hour, but thankfully everyone walked away unscathed. It was certainly a reminder for all of us to stay close to one another for the remainder of the two-day trip, knowing that things could have gone a different direction if we hadn't all been close to help one another out.
Having said all that, of the roughly 12 hours we spent on the Wanganui River, I'd guess around 30 minutes or less were actual rapids. It was, for the most part, a calm, sight-seeing joy ride that took us 50 kilometers across the water.
We made it to the camp site on Saturday evening 36 kilometers into the trip. Everyone immediately go to work setting up tents, organizing food and collecting whatever dry wood and branches we could find on the beach to make a bonfire. We had the makings of a pretty decent fire going just before the rain came again. We ran to our shelter and waited it out. Twenty minutes later it was nothing but blue skies. Again, the fire burned. And again, the rain came. Anyone who has lived in New Zealand or visited for an extensive time can attest to the insanity of its weather. After another 30 minutes there were literally almost no clouds to be seen in the sky. This time the rain stayed away, and we had a nice fire going just before dark.
Now, I don't know if it was the beers by the fire, the day's adventure, or just the camaraderie that comes along with partaking in a trip such as this one together, but some of the most fun we had on this 3-day trip was sitting in front of the flames and just talking, roasting marshmallows and - yes - singing. That was honestly the best. Thankfully, our group of nine was blessed with a few talented voices to carry the rest of us, but I don't think it would have mattered anyway. Someone would just start singing the chorus to some popular '80s hit and then the next would jump to a favorite Disney tune. I think we pretty much ran the musical gamut that night. But of all the memories that I will take with me from this weekend trip, sitting in front of a warm fire, under an indescribable starlit sky and singing cheesy pop hits with friends will certainly be the most lasting.
Will and I called it quits around 11:30 that night and headed to our tent. We were still filthy and wet, so we pretty much just stripped down to undies and, very heterosexually, shared an air mattress and blanket. That night Will woke up to the sound of TWO somethings breathing in the tent, only to discover that a possum had decided to curl up right outside our insect net next to us. What we didn't know until the next morning is that it clearly hadn't been the only thing attempting to join us. I'd suggest my mother stop reading here, unless she wants to know that we discovered quite a few large rats on the camp site, along with dozens of (HUGE) prints across the top of our tent where they'd attempted to find a way in.
We got up the next morning (Monday) - very sore - ready to finish off the last bit of the river (around 20 kilometers). It felt like it ended almost as quickly as it began, and we were packed up and back to our cars around 4 pm. We all said our goodbyes and I turned the page in that chapter.
Tomorrow morning I'm heading to Will's batch in Kauwa Island, and I'll be gone for a week. There won't be any Internet connection so I won't be updating for at least that amount of time. I hope everyone is still doing well and please don't hesitate to shoot me an e-mail. I love you and miss you all.
Paddling pro,
Captain John
Will and I, along with seven of Will's friends, went on a 3-day canoe trip down the Wanganui River this past weekend. To be more accurate, the nine of us went on what was planned to be a 3-day canoe trip, but was shortened to two due to extreme weather conditions on Saturday. Some of you who are reading this have probably seen the Wanganui River without even realizing it, as it appears in the first installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy when the fellowship of the ring (also, now that I think of it, called the fellowship of the nine) travel out of the Elvin city along the river on canoes. Before coming to New Zealand I made myself a promise that I would see something during my stay affiliated with this favorite trilogy of mine, and now I can officially check that one off the list.
We were informed by the owner's of the canoe tour (cleverly named Blazing Paddles) on Saturday morning that the winds were just too strong - along with off-and-on rain - to allow us to get on the river as planned. So, instead, the nine of us decided we'd make the best of our day and see what the area had to offer. We decided we would head to a local backpackers area that housed a climbing wall. On the way there, we realized the decision to delay the trip for a day was probably a good one. Along the road to our destination were half a dozen trees that had fallen over and blocked our way. The alpha males in our group (oh yeah - myself included) figured we could, as a group, move them out of the way. My only comfort is that none of you reading this will ever see pictures of how large these trees were, because thinking now that we even attempted such a ego-inflated act is embarrassing. Needless to say, they didn't budge.
Thankfully, we had a map, as all good adventurers should (or boy scouts - Thanks Will). We took a fairly long detour/back road that got us where we needed to go. As they say, it's the journey, not the destination. And it's times like taking hour detours in a car through one of the most gorgeous countries on this planet that you really get what that means. I won't bother attempting to detail some of the incredible countryside that I saw this past weekend (it would only be an injustice), and I can only apologize that I mistakenly left my SD card in my laptop without realizing it, rendering my camera useless.
After a few hours of rock climbing we headed to the hot springs. A nice, relaxing heated pool along with a good meal and we headed back to the lodge to finish out our day. We mostly sat around and watched movies, talked and played scrabble (under a bizarre set of made-up-on-the-spot rules), excited to start the trip on Sunday.
Thankfully, Sunday's weather was much more canoe-friendly, and we were on the river by 10 am that morning. We were split up into four canoes (seated 2 each) and one kayak for the ninth person. Will and I shared a canoe, and agreed that I should take the front ('the navigator') while he, the heavier of the two of us, took the back. Essentially my job was to 'lead' the direction of the canoe while he compensated and helped steer, along with using a bailer (a milk jug cut in half) to empty the canoe of water after heavy rapids.
This, of course, created an interesting dynamic at first. Will and I are both pretty headstrong guys. Will, even more so than myself, likes things done his way and is pretty comfortable giving orders (in a very appropriate way - since I know he's reading this I'll make sure to clarify he's by no means a pushy guy) But what Will didn't seem to grasp is that I was the navigator. The big Kahuna. The captain of this particular vessel, if you will. After having orders shouted at me for the first hour, I finally decided to put good ole' Willy in his place and let him know that when I say paddle left, he'd better be paddling left. Let's just say that Wills a great sport, and - for the most part - put up with my mini-power trip like a pro. We ended up working extremely well together and were usually the first, and sometimes only, canoe heading dead into the rapids. Granted, this backfired on more than one occasion when we smacked over the top of a too-shallow rock that we should have avoided, but I can only blame Will who was too busy laughing himself to death in the back instead of paddling. Apparently he thought my navigator persona whilst going over rapids was something to laugh at. But I take manning my vessel very seriously, and if that means I've gotta be obnoxious and proclaim 'THAR BE RAPIDS AHEAD" in my best pirate voice, then so be it.
Everyone, for the most part, handled the rapids extremely well - especially considering there was quite a bit of cabrewing going on. There was, however, one incident that gave us a little scare. Will and I had just paddled through some pretty intense rapids and were laughing away when we noticed that the rest of the group wasn't with us. We turned around and it appeared that in those ten seconds all hell had broke loose. One pair had beached their canoe upon a bank, one canoe had flipped over entirely and both the guys were clinging on to it attempting to make it to shore, all the while the kayak was stuck in a fallen tree along the bank with scary-fast rapids pouring over it, with our friend still inside.
Will and I were the only canoe in position to collect one of the water-sealed barrels that housed food/clothes from the flipped canoe. We grabbed that and then started paddling back upstream (not an easy/fun feat) to help however we could. We beached our canoe on the opposite bank of the trapped kayak and swam out as far as we could into the river to help the two that had fallen out of their canoe and were trying their best to hang on to it. While this was happening, our friend Steven, the guy in the kayak, had freed himself but was now stranded on the other side of the river. His kayak, meanwhile, was clearly trapped beneath this fallen tree in the water. We carried two canoes up along the bank until we were far enough along to attempt to get Steven and the kayak out. The other pair grabbed Steven, while Will and I attempted to loosen the kayak from the tree. Let me just say this was by far the most frustrating moment of the entire trip. We made a perfect line along the rapids to bring us along side the kayak, only to find that it was indeed very stuck. After a few minutes of struggling with every means possible to kick it free, we lost our hold on the tree and were pulled back down river. Another pair gave it an attempt and, this time, the kayak was freed after one of the girls (who, to be honest, had more guts than any of us guys), decided to climb OUT of the canoe along the fallen tree and free the kayak with her hands, then let herself float along the rapids (with the aid of a life jacket, of course) to the other shore.
Apparently what happened is that one of the canoes took on too much water during that stretch of rapid, which in turn caused it to capsize from the weight. Steven saw this happening so he attempted to help but got caught in a strong rapid that slammed him against the opposite bank, along the fallen tree where he was trapped. Incidentally, Steven put himself at the most risk as he was pulled under water by the pressure of the rapids and - ironically - held there because his life preserver kept him from being able to go deep enough under the water to come out the other side. Considering the obvious panic he was in, he handled the situation really well and was able to break away from the kayak and onto shore.
The entire incident lasted over an hour, but thankfully everyone walked away unscathed. It was certainly a reminder for all of us to stay close to one another for the remainder of the two-day trip, knowing that things could have gone a different direction if we hadn't all been close to help one another out.
Having said all that, of the roughly 12 hours we spent on the Wanganui River, I'd guess around 30 minutes or less were actual rapids. It was, for the most part, a calm, sight-seeing joy ride that took us 50 kilometers across the water.
We made it to the camp site on Saturday evening 36 kilometers into the trip. Everyone immediately go to work setting up tents, organizing food and collecting whatever dry wood and branches we could find on the beach to make a bonfire. We had the makings of a pretty decent fire going just before the rain came again. We ran to our shelter and waited it out. Twenty minutes later it was nothing but blue skies. Again, the fire burned. And again, the rain came. Anyone who has lived in New Zealand or visited for an extensive time can attest to the insanity of its weather. After another 30 minutes there were literally almost no clouds to be seen in the sky. This time the rain stayed away, and we had a nice fire going just before dark.
Now, I don't know if it was the beers by the fire, the day's adventure, or just the camaraderie that comes along with partaking in a trip such as this one together, but some of the most fun we had on this 3-day trip was sitting in front of the flames and just talking, roasting marshmallows and - yes - singing. That was honestly the best. Thankfully, our group of nine was blessed with a few talented voices to carry the rest of us, but I don't think it would have mattered anyway. Someone would just start singing the chorus to some popular '80s hit and then the next would jump to a favorite Disney tune. I think we pretty much ran the musical gamut that night. But of all the memories that I will take with me from this weekend trip, sitting in front of a warm fire, under an indescribable starlit sky and singing cheesy pop hits with friends will certainly be the most lasting.
Will and I called it quits around 11:30 that night and headed to our tent. We were still filthy and wet, so we pretty much just stripped down to undies and, very heterosexually, shared an air mattress and blanket. That night Will woke up to the sound of TWO somethings breathing in the tent, only to discover that a possum had decided to curl up right outside our insect net next to us. What we didn't know until the next morning is that it clearly hadn't been the only thing attempting to join us. I'd suggest my mother stop reading here, unless she wants to know that we discovered quite a few large rats on the camp site, along with dozens of (HUGE) prints across the top of our tent where they'd attempted to find a way in.
We got up the next morning (Monday) - very sore - ready to finish off the last bit of the river (around 20 kilometers). It felt like it ended almost as quickly as it began, and we were packed up and back to our cars around 4 pm. We all said our goodbyes and I turned the page in that chapter.
Tomorrow morning I'm heading to Will's batch in Kauwa Island, and I'll be gone for a week. There won't be any Internet connection so I won't be updating for at least that amount of time. I hope everyone is still doing well and please don't hesitate to shoot me an e-mail. I love you and miss you all.
Paddling pro,
Captain John
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