My New Zealand pictures are up, for anyone who's interested. If a picture is worth a thousand words, I effectively composed my own personal "War and Peace" during the trip. Photos don't do the country justice though -- I'd enthusiastically recommend a trip to New Zealand to anyone.
One of the albums includes pictures from Aoraki Mt. Cook National Park. I was extremely lucky to get a full sunny hiking day there, although the pictures don't convey the "drama" of the day. Here's the stream of consciousness summary I sent A. that evening:
Had the most ridiculous hiking day today in Aoraki Mount Cook
NP. Woke up a half hour before dawn to get some sunrise pictures. Realized I
couldn't get to the viewpoint in time to get the good pics, so tried to
go offtrail up a hill. FYI, what looks like "grassy meadows" in New
Zealand is actually waist-high grass that conceals huge rocks, holes,
and puddles. Got trapped at the top of the hill (which didn't have a
view anyways), took me about an hour to get down, soaking wet from the
hips down. Then I got lost.
By the time I found the trail, I was in a vicious mood, really kicking myself for being: 1) a crappy photographer (for not getting the sunrise shots even though I was up in time), and 2) a crappy outdoorsman (for doing a whole bunch of things you aren't supposed to do when hiking). Since I was up so early anyways, I just continued on the trail in a black mood. Ended up on a hilltop, brooding, when the sun suddenly broke the ridge and bathed me in sunlight. And suddenly everything was rad again. Wished you were there for that moment.
Decided to try to get as close as I could to the Hooker Glacier. Spent an hour and a half scrambling over boulders, and crossed a small stream, to get right up to the face of the glacier. It was amazing and scary. I couldn't get too close because it was clearly unstable, and rocks and ice were dropping off it all the time, while it made huge cracking and booming noises. In another example of poor judgment, I decided that I wanted to go up look at the glacier from the side. Scarmbled up the side of the valley, and started walking on what I thought was the non-glacier part. Until I tripped on a block of ice hidden beneath some gravel and realized, shit, I am on the glacier. The whole top of it was covered in rock. Kept going anyways. :)
Eventually turned around and scrambled back down. Sat at the base of the glacier for half an hour, camera ready, waiting for a big piece to fall off. Decided I couldn't wait (hadn't eaten lunch, and was out of water), so picked my way back down the valley. The small stream I crossed in the morning is now a raging torrent (yet another failure of outdoors judgment). Wade across using my tripod as a stablizing pole. When I reach the far end of the valley, I hear a tremendous boom. A huge piece has fallen off the glacier. So big it causes small waves at the our end of the lake. I guess it's a good thing I wasn't very close -- but still wish I had been there for it.
Start the walk back. Realize something is making a scraping noise by my feet. Look down. The soles of my boots are coming off. I guess all the bouldering was too much for them (they're ten years old). Kind of a problem, because day after tomorrow I go on my three day trek. New boots are not a good idea (blister city), but not much else I can do unless I wear my poorly suited sneakers. About half way back, I start to get really really hungry. You know what $4000 worth of camera equipment doesn't do? Feed you. You know what it does do? Weigh a ton around your neck, like the One Ring. Could have used a Samwise Gamge to urge me on ("C'mon Mr. Frodo!").
Another thing that expensive camera equipment does is expose all the flaws in your photography. The pictures are very mediocre, and the colors and exposures are off. I'm tempted to blame the camera, but hard to believe that's really the case. But you know what, even with a card full of shitty duplicative pictures, a busted pair of boots, sunburn, wet and blistered feet, and plenty of things to kick myself about, it was a good day.
By the time I found the trail, I was in a vicious mood, really kicking myself for being: 1) a crappy photographer (for not getting the sunrise shots even though I was up in time), and 2) a crappy outdoorsman (for doing a whole bunch of things you aren't supposed to do when hiking). Since I was up so early anyways, I just continued on the trail in a black mood. Ended up on a hilltop, brooding, when the sun suddenly broke the ridge and bathed me in sunlight. And suddenly everything was rad again. Wished you were there for that moment.
Decided to try to get as close as I could to the Hooker Glacier. Spent an hour and a half scrambling over boulders, and crossed a small stream, to get right up to the face of the glacier. It was amazing and scary. I couldn't get too close because it was clearly unstable, and rocks and ice were dropping off it all the time, while it made huge cracking and booming noises. In another example of poor judgment, I decided that I wanted to go up look at the glacier from the side. Scarmbled up the side of the valley, and started walking on what I thought was the non-glacier part. Until I tripped on a block of ice hidden beneath some gravel and realized, shit, I am on the glacier. The whole top of it was covered in rock. Kept going anyways. :)
Eventually turned around and scrambled back down. Sat at the base of the glacier for half an hour, camera ready, waiting for a big piece to fall off. Decided I couldn't wait (hadn't eaten lunch, and was out of water), so picked my way back down the valley. The small stream I crossed in the morning is now a raging torrent (yet another failure of outdoors judgment). Wade across using my tripod as a stablizing pole. When I reach the far end of the valley, I hear a tremendous boom. A huge piece has fallen off the glacier. So big it causes small waves at the our end of the lake. I guess it's a good thing I wasn't very close -- but still wish I had been there for it.
Start the walk back. Realize something is making a scraping noise by my feet. Look down. The soles of my boots are coming off. I guess all the bouldering was too much for them (they're ten years old). Kind of a problem, because day after tomorrow I go on my three day trek. New boots are not a good idea (blister city), but not much else I can do unless I wear my poorly suited sneakers. About half way back, I start to get really really hungry. You know what $4000 worth of camera equipment doesn't do? Feed you. You know what it does do? Weigh a ton around your neck, like the One Ring. Could have used a Samwise Gamge to urge me on ("C'mon Mr. Frodo!").
Another thing that expensive camera equipment does is expose all the flaws in your photography. The pictures are very mediocre, and the colors and exposures are off. I'm tempted to blame the camera, but hard to believe that's really the case. But you know what, even with a card full of shitty duplicative pictures, a busted pair of boots, sunburn, wet and blistered feet, and plenty of things to kick myself about, it was a good day.
I could go on and on about the rest of the trip, but for brevity's sake will just note that:
- Milford Sound is definitely worth visiting on both a rainy and a sunny day;
- If you're feeling splurgy, the guided walks by Ultimate Hikes are a fantastically pampered way to explore the incredible Great Walks of Fiordland National Park;
- Although bad weather made most of my pics worthless, Doubtful Sound is possibly even more spectacular than Milford Sound. There's a great day cruise by Real Journeys.
- The Southern Scenic Highway is often overlooked, but makes for an idyllic road trip (or bike trip). It only takes half a day to drive, but if you're the slow explorer type you could spend days doing side trips and exploring the back roads. The Yesteryears Museum and Cafe in Tuatapere serves some of the best baked goods (including a scrumptious mince pie) I've ever had.
And now, back to my regularly scheduled life.
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