Glacier Heli-Hike

                We arrived in Franz Josef on the eve of the supposed storm of the century and secured our tickets for the 12pm helicopter ride and glacier hike the next day. In fact, we were in the last group to be admitted to the glacier and then the heli-hike operation would be shut down for the next three days due to the expected snow storm. This was my first helicopter ride and was told that our trip might be cut short if the storm came in sooner than expected and they needed to evacuate the glacier – gulp!  

                The Franz Josef Glacier Guides company provided us with all of the necessary gear like crampons, hiking poles, boots, and snowsuits; so all we needed to bring was a swimsuit to enjoy the thermal pools after the hike, a bonus included in the purchase of your ticket to the glacier. Once we were in our gear we made our way to the heli-port which was a cleared section of the rain forest with rocky piles that constituted landing pads. Our seats were predetermined based on our weights and we piled into our helicopter accordingly as soon as it let out its cargo of hikers returning from the glacier. We put on our earphones and seatbelts and were ready to take off.

                The actual flight was not very long, less than 10 minutes from the heli-port to the glacier but what a flight it was! Flying over the opaque, opal-blue river made from glacier run off, being fed by fresh waterfalls cascading in long white strings down the sides of the mountain was a sight to behold. Then the glacier came into view, an immense expanse of icy-blue and white crinkles and cracks. This alternating pattern of massive chasms and towering shards of ice form as the ice moves over the underlying rock causing the glacier’s surface to fracture.

                Once on the glacier, we began our hike by first learning how to put on our crampons. We each had a bag slung across our shoulders that contained the metal spikes we needed to affix to our boots in order to walk on ice without slipping (well, slipping too much, it still happens, and frequently – according to our guide about 70% of the injuries they get there are from people tripping on their crampons and falling.) After properly applying crampons, we each got a hiking pole and set out to explore and learn more about the glacier.

                The Franz Josef glacier (F.J.G.) is unique in that the ice here is not very old. Some glaciers that have very shallow inclines can have ice that is thousands, or even millions of years old. The F.J.G. has a steep incline which makes it one of the fastest moving glaciers in the world; its ice is a mere infant at just 50 years old! As new snow is deposited at a glacier’s summit, the old snow is compacted by the weight of the new and turns into ice. The mountain’s incline allows this ice to slide further down the hill to lower elevation where eventually it melts as glacier runoff. This means that any snow that fell during this coming storm would find its way down the slope to the very edge of the glacier when I turned approximately 85 years old.

                Fortunately, as we explored this frosty terrain the storm did not launch an assault on us and we remained on F.J.G. hiking for a little over 3 hours. We climbed up sheer surfaces using steps cut from the ice with pickaxes, side-stepped through narrow canyons with transparent blue walls, and gingerly crossed crevasses holding our breath until safely on the opposite side. At one point, our guide had us all squeeze through a fissure so narrow that by the time I went through, 7^th out of 8 in our group, rivulets of water were running down the smooth blue walls from so many warm bodies pressed against it, exhaling steaming breath as they wriggled through the passage as quickly as they could for fear of getting stuck there.

                Eventually out time, we piled back into the helicopter and made our way back down the mountain. Once we had landed safely we expected the heavens to open and release the promised storm. However, the storm did not arrive; well, not that day at least. (It arrived the next day and we got snowed in with our RV and no snowchains – despite paying extra to have them included in the vehicle! But that’s another story for another blog entry.) Instead, we got to see THE CLEAREST view of the heavens we had EVER seen! Even though we were in town with lights all around us, that night the Milkyway was visible stretching overhead from one horizon to the other. We had seen the Mikyway before when we were in the desert in Namibia and had not a single light around to spoil our night vision. This was different; there were thousands of stars here that I had never had the privilege of viewing before! We were at a higher elevation now, above the pollution and fine dust particles from desert sand storms; we were witnessing what humans had seen for thousands of years before the industrial revolution. We were grateful; not only had the absence of the storm made our hike on the glacier possible, its absence granted us the beautiful gift of glimpsing the night sky as it was meant to be seen. 

Abel Tasman Skydive

                I have never been skydiving before, but it has been on the life-long-to-do-list for as long as I can remember. My dad was a paratrooper in Vietnam and did static line jumps both during the war, and after he returned home. In fact, he even took my mom on a date skydiving once! (If I hadn’t seen her certificate from her first jump, I’d never have believed it!)Andrew has already been skydiving with his family before but he was looking forward to jumping with me at Able Tasman both because of the view, and because it was going to be a longer free-fall – from 16,500 feet to sea level.

                The night before, we took the ferry out of Wellington to get from the north island to the south island where Able Tasman is located. The only available ferry at that time departed at 2:30am. So actually, the day of our skydive, we boarded the ferry at 12:30am in our house on wheels (they don’t let you stay with the vehicle so we got a cabin and a few hours of sleep.) We arrived in Picton, the port on the south island, around 6am and started driving to Able Tasman from there. I was actually quite pleased with myself because I drove the house on wheels down the narrow ramp from the car bay off the ferry onto land without scratching the house or causing an accident! It took about 2.5 hours to drive from Picton to the skydive airport and by 9am we had just secured the last skydiving spots for the day. We arrived just as the last group for the morning was returning and packing away their shoots so they snuck us in and made one more flight just for us.

                I think the exhaustion from the ferry travel that morning + the speed at which everything was arranged for our jump + Andrew having already jumped before and acting so calm = me with nerves of steel. I was really excited for our jump that morning and had every confidence in the staff at Abel Tasman Skydive. They had just completed three flights that morning and we were about to be the fourth, so no problems with equipment or weather to concern myself with. They got us suited up so quickly and on to the airplane that there really wasn’t any downtime to sit and think and talk myself out of things. We didn’t do any practice jumps out of a fake plane, we just got right on board and our tandem guides talked us through the procedures of jumping out of the plane once we were already well into the air and had only that one option to choose from. I know it seems rushed the way I’m describing it, but at the time if felt very step by step and procedural, like they didn’t want to overwhelm me with information so they simply introduced things one at a time right before the information was needed.

                The only “oh crap, shit just got real,’ moment during the flight was when our guides slipped oxygen masks on our faces and said that it was necessary because of the high altitude. I got a little worried about my ability to breathe enough oxygen while falling 200 mph from the sky if I needed supplemental oxygen while on board the plane. However, I didn’t have long to dwell on that thought as I was first to jump out of the plane. My guide told me to hold on to my shoulder straps, tilt my head back and tuck my legs under as I sit at the edge of the open door. I was told not to change that position until he tapped me on the back. Next thing I know, I’m looking up at the sky and he launches us out of the plane. Even with my head tilted back, I begin to see the mountain peaks around me. He tapped me on the back and I could now look forwards, side to side, down, and wave hi to the camera man. It was an exhilarating fall and I felt a false sense of security because I was so tightly strapped to another person that at no point did I feel like I was in danger. Instead, when the shoot deployed, I was filled with a sense of appreciation and amazement as I took in the landscape around me – mountains, rivers, ocean, beaches, wineries, fruit orchards, forests, and pastures dotted white with sheep. This was a spectacular sight and I was so fortunate to have the opportunity to view it in this way.

My tandem guide pointed out landmarks, named mountain peaks, and indicated the road that I came in on and the road which I would be departing for our next destination. Then he asked if I get motion sickness and I told him I surely hope not! He took it upon himself to then take us spiraling down at an enormous pace, took a breather, and then spiraled downward the opposite direction. Fortunately for both of us, I did not get motion sickness. (A rare and fortunate gift I have, further proven by the fact that I sit in the front seat of the RV typing this blog as Andrew drives us through a windy mountain pass.)

My tandem guide pointed out to the horizon and said, “See that white dot over there? That’s your husband.” Andrew had jumped after me and was continuing to free-fall long after I was gliding with the parachute open. I watched as he plummeted right past me and I had a moment to think, “why isn’t his shoot opening?!?!?!” Apparently, since it was Andrew’s second jump, his guide wanted to give him a bit more of a thrill and thus gave him a much longer free-fall time of 70 seconds!

                As we made our way closer to the ground my tandem guide informed me about the landing procedures. He simply said, “Lift your legs out in front of you and keep them up.”  So I did; I landed gently on the ground seated with my legs straight out in front of me. Despite having jumped after I did, Andrew was already on the ground waiting for me with open arms and a kiss to celebrate my first ever skydive experience.  

Geothermal Wonderland

                When you drive through Rotorua at night, or during the winter when it is cold, you see towers of white steam rising up sporadically along its landscape. This is due to the geothermal activity in the area creating scalding hot pools of water, bubbling mud pits, and venting fumerals. These geothermal wonders are not strictly confined to the tourist parks, they are everywhere! Nowhere else in the world is a city built directly on top of a hot spot in the earth’s crust; in places like Iceland and Hawaii, the cities are nearby, but not built upon the most active areas. Rotorua is different to say the least; here you can drink a pint and watch mud bubble up behind pub in the carpark, and children can play on swing sets sitting next to steaming fissures of sulfur.  

                Despite its abundance in places to access geothermal activity, one place stands out as a must see – Wai-O-Taipu Thermal Wonderland. We got here just as it was opening and had the whole place practically to ourselves! By 9:30 the tour buses begin arriving and tourist start streaming into the park to stake out a spot in front of the manmade geyser that goes off every morning at 10:15; we avoided this area all together. Who wants to see a fake geyser when you can walk around a looped 3km path that takes you to see real thermal wonders?!?

                Tripadvisor named the Champagne Pool, “One of the 20 most surreal places in the world,” and for good reason. This pool has a caution cone orange color lip around it with peridotite green waters at its center. Steam is continually rising off of the water because it is more than 200c, so it’s only possible to capture a photo when a sudden wind blows the steam away for a brief period of time. Some of the water from Champagne Pool spills over into Devil’s Bath and mixes with the sulfur to form an eerie toxic sludge green colored pool of water. There are many other wonders here not only in the form of pools, but in the form of craters, mounds, caves, cliffs, geysers (naturally occurring every 2-36 hours hence the scheduled fake one for the tourists), mud pots, terraces, and waterfalls. To walk the whole park takes about 75 minutes but if you are a geology nerd or photography buff you may find yourself staying longer to take it all in.   

                Don’t forget to stop at the mud pool just outside of the park on your right side as you are leaving to get back onto the main road. The pops, plops, bloops, splushes, and gurgling of the mud will have you giggling for sure. I bet it would be a great place to take kids because the mud is so active and fun to watch; just be sure not to let them chase a Pokémon into the pool because after all this is boiling hot mud being flung around. If you’d like to take some mud home with you I’d advise not collecting any of your own here but purchasing some of the Wai-O-Tapu mud beauty products back at the gift shop to avoid third degree burns. 

Human-Hamster Hybrid Technology

Human Hamster Ball Video Link

                New Zealand is known as the ‘Adventure Sport Capital of the World.’ They invented the sport which involves tying a long rubber band around your ankles and plunging head first off a bridge. They also created the ‘flying fox,’ which is basically a giant swing across a chasm or gorge. And they created a sport where you roll down a hill inside a giant plastic bubble. Prior to this NZ invention, people who were in bubbles tended to be extremely sick i.e. Bubble Boy the movie, or extremely sheltered, i.e. Bubble Boy the movie. However, any child who has owned a pet hamster will tell you about their secret desire to be able to ride around in one of those mobile hamster wheels.  Kiwi’s must have had this desire as well because they invented an adventure sport for it known as Zorbing!

                The people at Ogo located in Rotorua have taken human-hamster hybrid technology to the next level by introducing multiple riders and water into the equation.  This eliminates the need for upright running in your human hamster ball; you can now slip-side and flip around in a shallow pool of water as the ball goes careening down the side of a grassy hill. When I say grassy hill, do not envision the sort of gentle slope that you would sit and have a picnic on during the summer, this is more like a ski/snowboarding run without the snow; it is at an angle to help with acceleration.  There are two of these grassy runs you can choose from, or try out both like Andrew and I did. The first was Straight Shot, a 250m long path downhill. The second option is a side-to-side zig-zag path aptly named Sidewinder. The second run is the world’s longest track at 350m, and takes longer to complete because you bounce around a lot when you get to each one of the 6 corners on the track.

                If you go during NZ winter like we did, you start your Ogo experience by sitting in your swimsuit bundled up in your dry towels on the outdoor deck next to a potbellied stove to stay warm. When it is your turn, you leave your towels and flip flops behind and jump into the back of a 4 runner vehicle that will chaffier you and a trailer towing your Ogo human hamster ball up the hill. Once at the top, you make a mad dash to a plywood shed that has a space heater in it where you wait for your hamster ball to be set up at the top of the run, and filled with 40 liters of warm water. When ready, you make a headlong dive into your hamster ball (one at a time if you have multiple riders) and position yourself so as not to kick your partner in the face (once you start rolling, positioning doesn’t matter too much because it all goes to hell once you are tumbling down the hill so don’t spend too much time finding the right spot to lay/sit/stand). A staff member will zip the entrance to your human hamster ball shut and there is now no escaping, just like an actual hamster ball.

When the gate is raised you start gently rolling and sloshing down the hill. You think, ‘wow, this is not so bad, it’s even kind of romantic - like the Log Ride at Disneyland,’ but then you hit a corner and go spinning out of control inside your plastic bubble and reconsider your initial assessment of the situation. Next thing you know, you are twisted around, rolling backwards, and laughing your head off. I do regret not spending the extra $50NZD to take a go-pro inside to capture video of the theatrics taking place inside our human hamster ball. In hindsight, hearing us giggling uncontrollably for a minute could have been worth the additional cost; however the cost to ride in the Ogo is approximately that price per person so just something to consider when you are planning your own future human hamster hybrid adventure.  

Glow Little Glowworm

 

              

                 If you’re old enough, perhaps you remember the Mills Brothers singing ‘The Glow Worm’ from 1952, or perhaps like me you had parents that sang strange songs about insects to you as a child and you remember this song. If not, here is a small snippet that I found rather poignant:  

Shine little glow-worm, glimmer, glimmer

Shine little glow-worm, glimmer, glimmer

Lead us lest too far we wander

Love’s sweet voice is calling yonder

Shine little glow-worm, glimmer, glimmer

Hey there, don’t get dimmer, dimmer

Light the path below, above

And lead us on to love!

                Before I was born, my mom and dad went to New Zealand together. Sometimes I would get a good bedtime story about their adventures there, my favorite was the one where my dad told me about one of the most spectacular things he had ever seen… a cave filled with glowing worms!  I envisioned this place so often, and loved the idea of a cave filled with glowing worms hanging from the ceiling that when I was in 3^rd grade I did a school project based entirely on what my dad had told me. (This was during the dark ages, before you could “google image” everything and I had to creatively piece together facts from him and my own imagination to make a cave out of red pottery clay and glow-in-the-dark fabric puff paint.) I never forgot about this place and was determined to put it on my life-long to do list; I would get there someday… and today was finally the day!

                In Wiatomo, there are three caves: Rauakuri, Aranui, and Glowworm. Rauakuri and Glowworm are the only two that feature the bioluminescent buggers so we opted not to visit Aranui and focus on what we came all this way to see… GLOWWORMS!

                Actually, glowworm is a bit of a misnomer. As I explain, I’m sure you will understand why these details fail to make it into the glossy advertising brochures handed to tourists. The glowworm has a life cycle of 11 months, 9 of those months are spent in glowing worm form; which means it is less worm and more maggot than anything else. The glowmaggot hangs sticky mucus threads down from the ceiling so it can trap mosquitos and moths dumb enough to be attracted to its glowing light. Its glowing light is a result of chemical reactions during digestion… so basically the maggot has shinning shit. The glowing-shit-maggots will go through metamorphosis by wrapping themselves up in their spit-threads and transforming into a fungus fly, sexy no? After the glowing-shit-maggots turn into fungus flies, they only survive a few days in order to mate and lay a bunch of glowing-shit-maggot eggs. The horny fungus flies have no mouths or digestive systems so they enjoy their short time here on Earth in other ways… bow chicka bow bow.

                With all kidding aside, these glowworms are truly amazing creatures. When we entered Glowworm Cave, I expected to see a few lights dotting the ceiling rhythmically flickering on and off like fireflies.  Glowworms are not at all like fireflies; their light is constant (though it can be turned off over the course of 30 minutes by restricting the amount of air taken in, thus stopping the chemical reaction; and visa versa  is true, it will take 30 mins to start glowing again once they begin taking oxygen back in). I was absolutely taken aback by the magnitude of blue light emitted by each individual worm! Andrew and I joked that it simply was impossible and that they must have installed hundreds of tiny LEDs all over the ceiling. There were thousands of lights above our heads shining like stars in a teal-tinted galaxy.  The most breathtaking moment was when I realized I could just as clearly look down upon this galaxy being reflected back up at me from a sill pool of water. I imagined that this is what only astronauts get to see. They don’t crane their necks constantly looking up at the stars, they look around and down to see galaxies below them and as far as their eyes can see in any direction. In that moment, I was in outer space viewing constellations only I could name, a private universe here inside of the earth.  

Hobbiton: A Place for Nerds and Know-Nothings

                Alexander’s Farm was “discovered” by an aerial search for suitable filming sites and after negotiations and purchasing the land, construction started in March of 1999. This was a 1,250 acre sheep and beef farm outside the town of Matamata, with no road leading to it. Sir Peter Jackson, plain ol’ Peter Jackson at the time, went to the Prime Minister of New Zealand and said how he was going to be filming the Lord of the Rings Trilogy and The Hobbit Trilogy there, and if he could please have a road built for the thousands of people who would now be employed at Alexander’s Farm. She said yes of course, I’m a huge fan of Tolkin and I’d love to be famous for helping to make this happen in my country (speculation on my part as to how this conversation went) so she sent the New Zealand Army to build a 1.5km road to the site.  

                And thus lead to the eventual creation of The Shire – the Green Dragon Pub, 39 hobbit holes made of ply and polystyrene, and an old oak tree that was cut into puzzle pieces, transported from Matamata, re-assembled with metal wiring, with tens of thousands of plastic leaves from Taiwan painstakingly attached one at a time to this Frankenstein of an oak tree above Bag End. Surprisingly, 40% of the people who tour The Shire have never seen the movies or read the books, and wouldn’t know a hobbit if it kicked them in the shins.  Apparently, many tourists visit simply to make their friends and family jealous, and for the ability to post photos on Facebook because if they didn’t and came home from New Zealand without visiting Hobbiton they would be humiliated and made to feel ashamed by their grandkids.

                After visiting the hobbit holes, you are treated to a drink at The Green Dragon Pub. The original Green Dragon was purposely burned down to the ground by Peter Jackson, still not a Sir at the time, because it made for good film. Why CGI it when you can set it alight yourself is always my moto!?! But they rebuilt it better than the original out of materials designed to last, and to fire code I assume, and now it’s a functional pub. The Green Dragon has two beers, one cider, and a ginger ale all brewed especially for them and that can be purchased nowhere else in the world except at that pub… and at the gift shop. Andrew tried the Hobbit Southfarthing Stout, and I tried the Southfarthing Amber Ale; both were quite good, and the perfect pick-me-up for that 9:30am tour we were on - #breakfastofchampoions!

Waiheke (Wine) Island

                Our first stop was to Waiheke Island, heralded as a wine lover’s paradise, and listed in Andrew’s 1000 Things to Eat before You Die book. We grabbed the ferry out of Half Moon Bay, just as it was about to push back from the ramp and lift up its giant metal flap that allows for vehicles to drive on and off. We rode the boat for 40 minutes, looking back on the bustling city of Auckland, and forward to the peaceful beaches and rolling green hills of Waiheke.  Once we arrived, we walked up the road to the first winery on our list – Kennedy Point. This vineyard is the island’s only certified organic vineyard, and also happened to be closed for the winter. (Remember, July is a winter month in this part of the world so it’s often cold, rainy, plus the grapes vines are hibernating.) So, our hike continued and we walked to the next nearest vineyard, don’t ask me how many miles or kilometers of a hike it was because I have no idea. All I know is that I reached 10,000 steps on my FitBit and we were still walking.

                Our second stop was Goldie Estate, the oldest winery on the island, established in the 1970’s, producing their first bottles of wine in 1982. I was surprised that there was not a long held tradition of winemaking despite the encroachment of European settlers in its history. Now I know what you are thinking, but thankfully you a wrong and this winery was in fact open. Andrew and I got to taste 4 different wines and sample 4 different cheeses.  The wines were from Waiheke Island, the cheeses were not; they were from all over New Zealand and helped restore my faith in humanity after being so disappointed by the first winery. Basically, a good charcuterie can make up for any disappointment in life! There was soft brie, an Edam, a smoky cheese, and a stinky cheese; all of which tasted heavenly served on the hot, pillowy, locally made artisan bread. I could have stayed there all day! We sat on a loveseat together, sipping there award winning red wine that boasts a hint of violet, munching on crusty fresh baked bread, and savoring the variety in New Zealand cheeses. When our server brought out a portable heater to set by the loveseat I thought for sure I would be moving in! Alas no, our day on Waiheke Island was drawing to an end and we needed to hike back to the ferry; though I threatened to hitchhike if it started to rain. We were in luck and the weather held, and soon we were saying good bye to Wine Island from the deck of the ferry, appreciating the book’s suggestion to visit there.