First a bit more about yesterday evening:
My plans change for the movie and I end up seeing Drive instead of Mission Impossible. Plans are really nothing more than current thoughts out here; nothing is ever set in stone. The rational for this particular change is that Drive starts at 3:50 which would give me time to get back to the hostel to eat dinner with everyone. It was a good movie, although a bit depressing for a rainy day. It’s one of those movies where you don’t really know what happens at the end, more of a pick your own ending type thing. Enough about the movie.
I pick up a bottle of New Zealand wine on the way home and make dinner (pasta with sundried tomatoes, mushrooms, parmesan cheese, and parsley). I see a girl making stuffed mushrooms next to me which look amazing. I ask her what kind of cheese she used; blue cheese and I store it to memory for another rainy day. I eat dinner with a girl from South Africa who recommends that I visit there. I share my wine, and we talk about grown up things. As the conversation (and wine) begin to dwindle, I hear a growing raucous at the table next to us. A group of younger twenty-somethings has been playing some kind of drinking game. I stand next to an older gentleman who watches on and we try to figure out what they are playing. A girl at the table turns around and asks me to play, so I hesitate for a split second (the bus leaves at 7:15am tomorrow) but sit down and play. Luckily I don’t lose and thus don’t drink much. We move on to another game where you have to pick and animal and come up with an imitation, look and sound. If someone does your animal, you have to repeat your animal and pick another animal (person) and they continue. If you break the chain, you lose and drink. It’s funny and for anyone within earshot, ridiculous I’m sure. I decide that it’s nice to be able to relate and interact with all age groups in the hostels.
The games get too loud for the late hour, so everyone steps outside on the back porch. There’s a couple New Zealanders, a guy from England, a Dutch girl, a French guy, an American form Orange county; a united nations of sorts. We get into a conversation about racism and I realize that every country has their own variety, in New Zealand it’s the Maori. I eventually wander off to sleep; others walk out to a park with a bottle of wine. I gotta get up early.
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I wake up early to take bus to Glaciers. It’s a long
drive…about 8 hours to get to Franz Joseph.
I meet the guy from
Orange County outside my room and we leave the hostel together. He reminds me of David Blaine; at least his
voice sounds like his. I find out that
he’s from Iran, but has lived in California for most of his life. We connect and decide to go to the same
hostel later that day.
The bus stops at Pancake Rocks and we have an hour to look
around. No one knows how the rocks
formed.
A girl from Ireland joins the bus. We talk for an hour or so. I learn she came to New Zealand because the
Ireland economy is bad and some of her relatives live on the North Island who
she will live with for awhile. She just
got a working visa.
We get to the hostel around 7pm and go to the grocery store to grab lunch for the glacier hiking tomorrow; pastrami sandwiches and an apple.
At the hostel we watch a movie while drinking a couple beers
and eat free popcorn and vegetable soup with 8 or 9 others.
We end up hanging out with a German guy and a couple Americans for most of the evening. Finding Americans is somewhat rare out here. Finding Germans is common.
Meet a Swiss guy with an interesting personality. We joke around for while. I tell him
that he’s lucky to stay in MY room. He
ends the evening with “goodnight ladies.”
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| Pancake Rocks |
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| Wine! |
Day 15
Today is ‘Hike a Glacier Day’. I wake up and head out to the glacier at about 8:00am. It’s a nice sunny day which I eventually learn is rare for this part of the country. It rains 200 days a year here. Our guide is an ice-axe toting Tasmanian. He tells us this is the best day in last 3 weeks for hiking.
We start the hike by learning a little bit about the glacier, why it’s here, how it formed, what to do, what not to do. He tells us a story about a rock slide a couple months ago. This is one example: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pe2mGoRSJU The rockslides throw boulders a couple tons heavy out over the paths through the ice. They are rare, but as you can see, seriously dangerous. He jokes that we already signed the release form, and then switches back to serious mode and instructs us to follow his lead exactly; don’t wander off. We put crampons on (spikey cover for your boots) and start out onto the ice. The guides cut out paths and steps as we go. The ice changes and melts in the summer so carving out new paths is an on-going activity. It also slows down the groups’ pace (i.e. gives the unfit folks a rest).
It’s really cool. Much of the ice is a deep blue color. Why? Because the ice is so densely packed that it absorbs all wavelengths of light but blue (which it reflects back). We pass by holes in the ice where the melt water finds a weak point in the ice and carves out a hole to the underground river beneath the glacier. Our guide calls these ‘death holes’ and doesn’t let us get anywhere near them. If you fall or trip in, you are dead. Period. We also pass through some deeper crevasses with ice walls on both side of the trail. It’s an odd feeling because the sun is warm but being next to huge ice cubes also cools the air. The air temperature changes quickly.
We stop for lunch at some point and sit on the glacier on top of our coats. The vertical limestone cliff next to us blocks the sun which is good at first and then bad. You cool down quickly on an ice cube with no sun. Although against company policy, the guide tells us to fill our water bottles in the pools if we need more. It’s freezing cold water and tastes as delicious as pure glacier water can taste. We continue up the glacier after lunch, reach a stopping point, and start to head back down. We see an alpine parrot near the top; the only mountain parrot in the world.
The guide points out that the glacier is currently receding. 50 years ago it was a lot bigger. You can see where it was in the past by looking at the mountain plant line. On a short-term basis the glacier grows and shrinks in 20 year cycles. Winter snow is how it grows. We get to the bottom again, take off the crampons (which feels almost as good as taking off boots after a long hike), and head back to the bus. We hike through a little bit of rainforest to get there and I have this recurrent thought that it doesn’t seem like a glacier should be here.
Hike a glacier. Check!
Eat dinner with a German girl, get her number, and decide to meet her in Queenstown for a beer where she lives.
In the evening, meet a really cool German guy (Patrick) who tells me that skydiving is an existential experience, and describes it better than anyone I’ve heard so far.
Try to avoid running into a bunch of drunken English people on the porch, fail, and end up talking about 9-11 conspiracies, Barack Obama, and the US government for longer than I want to.
Book skydiving for tomorrow. It’s officially on.
Day 16Today is ‘Hike a Glacier Day’. I wake up and head out to the glacier at about 8:00am. It’s a nice sunny day which I eventually learn is rare for this part of the country. It rains 200 days a year here. Our guide is an ice-axe toting Tasmanian. He tells us this is the best day in last 3 weeks for hiking.
We start the hike by learning a little bit about the glacier, why it’s here, how it formed, what to do, what not to do. He tells us a story about a rock slide a couple months ago. This is one example: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pe2mGoRSJU The rockslides throw boulders a couple tons heavy out over the paths through the ice. They are rare, but as you can see, seriously dangerous. He jokes that we already signed the release form, and then switches back to serious mode and instructs us to follow his lead exactly; don’t wander off. We put crampons on (spikey cover for your boots) and start out onto the ice. The guides cut out paths and steps as we go. The ice changes and melts in the summer so carving out new paths is an on-going activity. It also slows down the groups’ pace (i.e. gives the unfit folks a rest).
It’s really cool. Much of the ice is a deep blue color. Why? Because the ice is so densely packed that it absorbs all wavelengths of light but blue (which it reflects back). We pass by holes in the ice where the melt water finds a weak point in the ice and carves out a hole to the underground river beneath the glacier. Our guide calls these ‘death holes’ and doesn’t let us get anywhere near them. If you fall or trip in, you are dead. Period. We also pass through some deeper crevasses with ice walls on both side of the trail. It’s an odd feeling because the sun is warm but being next to huge ice cubes also cools the air. The air temperature changes quickly.
We stop for lunch at some point and sit on the glacier on top of our coats. The vertical limestone cliff next to us blocks the sun which is good at first and then bad. You cool down quickly on an ice cube with no sun. Although against company policy, the guide tells us to fill our water bottles in the pools if we need more. It’s freezing cold water and tastes as delicious as pure glacier water can taste. We continue up the glacier after lunch, reach a stopping point, and start to head back down. We see an alpine parrot near the top; the only mountain parrot in the world.
The guide points out that the glacier is currently receding. 50 years ago it was a lot bigger. You can see where it was in the past by looking at the mountain plant line. On a short-term basis the glacier grows and shrinks in 20 year cycles. Winter snow is how it grows. We get to the bottom again, take off the crampons (which feels almost as good as taking off boots after a long hike), and head back to the bus. We hike through a little bit of rainforest to get there and I have this recurrent thought that it doesn’t seem like a glacier should be here.
Hike a glacier. Check!
Eat dinner with a German girl, get her number, and decide to meet her in Queenstown for a beer where she lives.
In the evening, meet a really cool German guy (Patrick) who tells me that skydiving is an existential experience, and describes it better than anyone I’ve heard so far.
Try to avoid running into a bunch of drunken English people on the porch, fail, and end up talking about 9-11 conspiracies, Barack Obama, and the US government for longer than I want to.
Book skydiving for tomorrow. It’s officially on.
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| Danger is my middle name |
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| Crevasse |
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| Ice steps |
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| Ice Axe! |
Wake up and have an hour conversation with Patrick over coffee. He studied English in the university in Germany, and recites his favorite quote above. I dig it. As we are talking, a young girl walks in and obviously knows Patrick. She doesn't look a day older than 16. Patrick and her have a quick exchange, I introduce myself, and she (Hannah) leaves to the grocery store to grab lunch. I learn that she hitched a ride over to the glacier with Patrick. He tells me that she is from a small town in Wisconsin and is 18 years old. The entire thing seemed bizarre to me. Here is a attractive young girl, in a country half way around the world alone, hitch-hiking and camping by herself. She has either a significant amount of bravery or a significant amount of insanity. I'm not sure which.
She comes back from the store with a can of beans, and throws it in the microwave, and declares it lunch. Hmm. Patrick has to book a helicopter flight to the top of the glacier so he leaves for the moment. I talk to her for awhile and don’t sense anything odd about her. She is well spoken, has a bubbly personality, and is generally very nice; not the drug-addicted, high school dropout type I expected. She's doesn't seem to be running from anything; parents, friends, her town, her past. I decide that there is something I’m missing from her story, but perhaps I will never know. But that’s how it is out here. You get glimpses, half stories, thin slices, fleeting impressions of those you meet. You are forced to make very quick judgments about people, and you do so knowing that others are doing the same with you.
I go check in at the skydive place to make sure everything is in order. Apparently the power has gone out on the airfield and they can't put gas in the plane. It will be delayed until 4pm, so I have a couple more hours to contemplate the decision to jump out of a plane at 12,000 feet above the earth. I find it somewhat odd that I'm not the least bit nervous. Maybe it's because I've seen fellow travelers faces as they describe their experience to me, or maybe it's because after 3 weeks of doing and seeing wild things, you get desensitized to it all. It's probably a little of both.
On the way back to hostel, I pass Hannah on the street. She is going to a campsite. I give her a hug, and wish her well on her journeys. I probably won't see her again. Walking away I begin to have this oddly protective feeling and hope she will be ok; Maybe it's because she was from the US had little money. Maybe it was because she was doing things I would hesitate to do. Again, probably a little of both. I walk on knowing there's nothing I can do.; nor anything I should do.
I go back to the skydive place at 4 and everything is a go! I sign the release form, meet a brother and sister from Denmark who will be going as well, and hop in a van. A guy with white dreadlocks drives us over to the airfield; he looks like the typical base-jumping madman type. I later learn that his hobby outside of work (jumping out of planes) is base jumping Crazy dude! At the airfield I meet my tandem partner, an older guy who has done over 8000+ jumps. That's good to know. He puts all the gear on, explains what is going to happen, and we head over to the small plane with the 2 others. There's an electric feeling in the air.
We pile into the small plane, and take off. It's noisy but not noisy enough that people can't talk. As we go up, my partner shows me the altitude gauge on his wrist....4000ft, 5000ft....10,000ft. The ride up is actually really cool in itself. You can see ocean, glacier, rain-forest, farmland, the snow-capped Mt Cook (the highest peak in New Zealand, everything really. We get to 11,000ft, then 12,000ft, and the pilot gives a thumbs up to my guy who opens the door of the plane. I'm going first, and this is the first time in the whole thing that I get a little nervous. Actually jumping out of plane is crazy. With tandem jumps, you have your partner attached to your back, so you are actually most of the way out of the plane before your partner jumps too. I look down, close my eyes for a split second, and then we're in free fall. It's the most bizarre feeling ever! It doesn't feel like you're falling at all, it feels like you're flying. The ground is soooo far away that you can't sense that it's getting closer. There's a lot of wind.
After about 45 seconds of free fall, my partner pulls the shoot, and this is the 2nd time you get nervous. Is the shoot going to come out? Is the turbulence of the shoot coming out normal? Am I going to die?
After about 10 seconds, you go from free fall to floating with the shoot out. You are still WAYYY up in the sky though. At this point, my partner gives me control of the parachute. You can go right, left, descend slower, or descend faster. If you pull hard on one side, you can almost do corkscrews in the sky. The ground gets closer and closer, and then you hit the ground. We had a good landing.
It's a wild feeling when you get to the ground. Your brain just floods your body with adrenaline and endorphins and you are on cloud 9. The feeling lasts for about an hour afterwards and I immediately see why people really get addicted to skydiving. The entire thing has this dreamlike quality to it. It almost doesn't seem real.
If you haven't done this in your life, go, now!
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| Look at the glacier in the background |
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| Almost there |
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| Landing |
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| Thumbs up for being alive |
Congratulations!! You have hiked up a glacier and gone skydiving. What a rush. Your pictures and documentation are amazing! It feels like we are experiencing the thrills with you. Great job.
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