Cave Rescue Practice

So I realize that I haven’t posted in a while.  Let me summarize what has happened since my last post. I jumped around from hostels for a while after I left Jane’s house. I finally settled on one I liked. The Paradiso hostel was a nice place. Twenty dollars a night with a hot tub and a sauna is hard to beat. I spent the entire week searching for jobs in Nelson and worrying about stuff at home. There were some very cool people at the Paradiso including a Kiwi named Karl. He was extremely fun and seemed like a copy of Steve Wells and Scott Rapier but from half way around the world. After not finding a job by Friday I figured I needed a vacation. The west coast was the place to be.

A SAREX is a caving practice rescue in New Zealand. On the west coast of the South Island there was a SAREX this weekend. The way they run their rescues here is very different from the way we do it in the US. Cavers work together in a more formal manner. The government gives the cavers money to get rescue gear. This gives them access to some very cool equipment.

I arrived on the west coast on Friday to meet the cavers. I was pretty stressed due to not finding a job but I found Jane at a pub. Normally this would have been an amazing stroke of luck except that there was only one pub in town. Punakaiki is a very small town with two streets. One of those streets is dirt and is right on the beach. The town it’s self is flanked on one side by the Tasman Sea and on the other by a large limestone bluff.

The West Coast

This was the first time I had seen the sun set over the ocean since I was a young child. Everyone in the hostel mentioned seeing the green flash. I had thought that that was only something from Pirates of the Caribbean We all went out on the deck to stare at the sun for a bit. Right as it was about to happen some clouds obscured the sun; “Oh well” I thought, it was still a pretty sunset.

Some of the cavers and I stayed in a small hostel on the beach. There was a person named Carmine from Canada staying in the hostel. A bunch of cavers and I went to the pub and she tagged along. We had a few drinks and talked about the rescue to come in the morning.

The next morning I woke up to find a bunch of people around the kitchen table. They were all discussing techniques and rescues that had happened in the past. At 9:30 we were supposed to saddle up and head to a Department of Conservation hut for a briefing by the incident commander as to the Scenario. Since this was on the West Coast the cavers from that area were in charge. We took a few cars and went up to the cave area. To my surprise there was a large orange bus that said “Search and Rescue.” That money coming from the government seemed as if it was being put to good use.

At first I didn’t have any gear. All I had was the stuff I wore under my suit. I was sitting up at the surface for a long time looking listless when Alice noticed me. She came over and asked what I was doing. I told her of my plight and she started tasking me as she could. Then I was rescued. A large caver came and said he would lend me all of his gear. I got it on and went in on crew 11, which was tasked with basic stretcher handling. Once I got underground I was attached to the Hayphone team. This was a radio that worked through the moisture in the rock to send a signal to another of it’s kind on the surface.

Outside The Rescue Bus at Punakaiki: By Alice Shanks

We dragged the stretcher until the people on the surface called in and told us to come out. The cave, Xanadu as it was called, was a nice little cave but it was known to flood. We made our way out but there were many buffoon sumps to endure. This, for you non-cavers is a group of cavers getting caught in a bottle neck.

We left the cave and all met outside. As cavers are apt to do, we all had a beer on the outside of the cave to congratulate ourselves. We all got back in the cars and left the scene with the victims driving their own vehicle out. I was happy to have participated. Sitting on the surface with nothing to do would have been miserable. It was nice to be useful. It also made me feel like I was on equal terms with everyone around me. Being a strong young man makes it hard to let other people (even when they’re just as strong as you) carry a stretcher. We all went to the only pub in town and got a beer and socialized. There were people from all over the south island there who meshed perfectly. It was weird to thing that this was 90 per cent of the operational cavers on the south island. It was about the same size as a caver party pack home.

The next day I got to drive back to Christchurch to find a job. I went back via Arthur’s Pass. At first the drive felt like I imagine costal California to feel. Then I broke into the mid west and finally the Rockies but all in the space of an hour. Driving up through the pass I was reminded of the Rohan scenes from Lord of the Rings. I thought that maybe some of them were actually filmed here.

The entire time I was looking for a Kia. This is a mischievous type of parrot that is known for tearing up cars. I had heard they were annoying but were also strikingly beautiful. Farmers used to shoot them but now they are protected. They have been known to bother livestock to the point of picking wool out of sheep. Sadly I didn’t see any.

What I did see were two people trying to hitchhike. I’ve been trained since being a little kid not to pick up hitchhikers but these were two backpackers up on the mountain and it looked as if rain was coming. They smiled as I pulled over. I noticed a familiarity as one of them said hi. I asked where she was from and she replied with Indiana and the guy said Colorado. That was a welcome relief. Hearing an American accent out here is kind of like reaching an oasis in the desert. I don’t miss them too much but when I hear them it feels good. They asked where I was going and I said Christchurch. They were more than a little excited at the prospect of a ride all the way home. We drove off the mountain talking about foot ball and the states in general. The girl in the back fell asleep almost immediately. They had just been hiking all around the hills in that region so I could understand. I was grateful for someone to talk to because I was a little tired myself.

We broke out of the hills and onto the Canterbury Plains. In the distance I could see the port hills. Behind us I could see what definitely looked like rain breaking across the mountains. I was glad I had picked them up. The hitchhikers said they had been considering setting up the tent again for shelter. I dropped them off at the University of Canterbury and went on my way. All the stress of finding a job flooded back but this time I had someone who could relate to my situation. The American I was going to meet about getting a job had been in my position before and was happy to help. I checked into a cheap hostel, which was by far the shittiest one I’d been at. I’d sooner sleep in the van than go back to that place. I got up the next morning refreshed and ready to go out and get a job in wasteland of Christchurch. It would be a nice city again someday, but that was a long time in the future. Hopefully I can help. 

Caving in Nelson

Living In Nelson

I shall start off by saying that barbershops are extremely difficult to find in Nelson. I was able to find one after much searching down town. During the interim time I was able to find cave clothes at a thrift store and go shopping at the New World store, which is much like a Food Lion.

Nelson is a very pretty town and is actually slightly reminiscent of Blacksburg. That is, until you find the bay with all the boats, ships, and mussels. The town is built into the hills in a very charming way. Once you get to the bottom of the hills there is a very pretty if not touristy downtown area. Nelson has a host of boutiques and shops. Just past the town is the bay, which has a very cool beach. The tides at Nelson change dramatically. The beach may be 30 feet or a quarter mile wide depending on what time you go.

I finally found the barbershop just in time to get a quick haircut before going to the bus station. I met Jane there because we were supposed to pick up a British caver named Tarn. We didn’t really know what she looked like so I was joking about saying, “we are looking for someone British” into the crowd. Luckily I didn’t have to do this because Jane mentioned her name as she was getting off the bus. She heard us and exclaimed, “Did I just hear my name?”

We did some touristy things that afternoon like going to the geographic center of New Zealand. That was a very pretty walk. The track snakes up a hill at the top of which there is a marker left by the rotary club. From there the entire town of Nelson can be seen along with the bay and the mountains across the bay. The mountains were capped with the last snow of winter. Coming down the hill I realized the communications problems we would have. At times Tarn and Jane would be talking and I’d have no clue what they were saying. All different combinations of that took place throughout the day. At one point Jane said there were Tomos around the cave hut but Tarn misheard and thought there were a lot of homos around the hut. Misunderstandings like this have been pretty common thus far.

After we got down from the center of New Zealand we walked to a shop down town so Tarn could get something for her boyfriend. Jane had to go to paddling practice so Tarn and I went to see the beach. The tide was out at the time so we were able to take a long walk around the tidal flats.

All this time we had been comparing languages. I managed to say fries again and once again I was corrected to chips. The whole thing was quite entertaining. We went to the supermarket to find supplies for caving the next day. I am bad at New Zealand supermarkets but we had fun looking for food for the next day. I educated Tarn about Beg Ben, his stunt utes, his women, and his meat pies. We went home in the Oddity and made calamari for dinner with “chips.” It was nice having someone else in the house. Tarn and I really had fun not understanding each other. At one point she figured out that I would be sleeping on the couch and she would be sleeping on the bed. This was in no way a problem for me since I would often sleep on my own couch in the apartment back in Blacksburg.

Well I’m going to do my first New Zealand cave tomorrow with a Kiwi Caver and a British digging caver. I guess we’ll just have to see how I stack up with the international crowd.

19-9-12

Well two days of caving have been done in NZ now. We went into marble caves in the Takaka Hill region. My caver companions were Jane, Rod, and Tarn. The first cave we did was accessed through “Simply Sumpless,” a little access hole just above a big cave diver entrance that sumped out. The big marble cave was very pretty with lots of walking passage and huge bore hole. The marble is easy to get cut on so gloves were highly recommended which I am not used to.

The entrance to the cave was squeezy passage with lots of down climbing. After it opened up there was a large scree slope with a creek at the bottom. I was informed that if the water was higher than the rocks that the upper part of the cave would be completely flooded.

All in all it was a very fun trip. The caves in NZ are where the caves in the US were 30 years ago in terms of exploration. Most of the really easy stuff has all the trunk passage mapped. This makes for some extremely sporty trips because a person can stroll into a cave and go off the map without crawling very much. We did just this.

Tarn, being from the UK, was very keen to put herself into little holes that I wouldn’t even think of attempting. More often than not she would find something interesting. I was walking and felt some serious airflow going into a little hole near the bottom of the wall. I unsuccessfully pushed it but Tarn went in and said she could hear water as it petered out. We went to the next hole and pushed that too. Rod found another hole on the side of the passage and Tarn was immediately in it like some sort of hungry weasel. I found her light and went down to the passage myself via a different route. We pushed on until we came to a canyon that seemed to run parallel to the main chamber. Tarn and I went down this passage exploring leads and doing down climbs as we came to them with Rod and Jane on our heels. Later Jane mentioned to us that if we had managed to find anything interesting it could have lead to another close cave system. This would have doubled the size of the cave and made international caving news since these were huge cave systems to begin with. As it was, we found about 200 meters of un-surveyed passage and some really cool leads. Not bad for a sport trip.

Jane and I Surfing Simply Sumpless

The even better aspect of the trip came when we were all together in the car. We had noticed that we had different words for EVERYTHING. The Kiwis and Brits have a similar lexicon but American English can be a different language. Instead of rappelling the Kiwis and Brits abseiled. Instead of pits they had pitches. We went through these words as we heard them in speech. I was especially fond of the way Tarn said the word party. She described it as a very posh way of saying it, which I can only assume means she says it fancy-like. I told her that Americans actually loved British accents. It is sort of a secret American pleasure to hear British people talk. Every now and then Jane and Tarn would say something that sounded like it was a foreign language to me. At one point she said “upper class” and I responded with “Apricots?!?” These little language snafus caused the whole feel of the trip to be very whimsical.

On Wednesday we went into Summit Tomo and did a bit of vertical (SRT) caving. Tarn did not usually do SRT work because in the UK they don’t have many large pitches. Most understandably, Tarn was a little uncomfortable with the pitch at hand. “Why not?” I thought. It was a rather large pitch (over 100 meters) with a re-direct and a re-belay. She didn’t feel comfortable going down so I bounced it with Jane and we came back up. Tarn was apologizing the rest of the day but I actually thought more of her for the whole thing. After all, every caver that is worth anything has had those moments. She called it a white whale in reference to Moby Dick. I suppose we all have our white whales. Mine is a certain cave in Scott County VA called Wonderland. Anyway, for all of those non-cavers out there, I say it takes much more guts to say you’re not comfortable with something than to get in over your head and that is the life lesson for the day.

After summit Tomo we went and did another cave (summit cave I think). This was one that we entered by following a stream through one hill, out the other side then into the next hill. We went about 200 meters until it sumped out. I was in the back when I was told to shut off my light. I did so and looked on the roof to see hundreds of “stars.” These were glowworms. They were very helpful for figuring out the outline of the cave even with all the lights out.  I have to admit I did get a bit sentimental at that moment. Sitting there looking at the glowworms my mind started to drift back across the ocean to Virginia. I missed my fiancé Ellen, my family (Sasquatch included), those two knuckleheads Peppy and Rapunzel along with all the other tubas, and of course all my VPI cavers. My kiwi friends were wonderful but there is no substitute for looking to your left and seeing El Cabron while being flanked on your right by Awesome Bill from Dawsonville.

Of course then the lights came back on and Rod’s smiling face was there (remember Rod? This is a song about Rod. [10 points for getting the reference].) We caved out and walked back to the car. All in all it was a very enjoyable day of caving. Riding home in the back of the van Tarn apologized again for not wanting to do the pit. I thought, “if only you knew how many holes you went down that I wouldn’t dare touch.”

After a short time in Summit Cave we left and cleaned up the hut we had been staying at. The Nelson Speleological Group (NSG) has a hut on top of Takaka hill. Takaka is near Abel Tasman National Park on the South Island. We had been staying at the hut while we were in the area. After we moved out we went to look around the park. Most of the area seemed to be a mixture of dry bush and tropical rainforest. Climate changes don’t happen that often in the US so the whole thing was very novel. We wanted to go to a tourist attraction called the split apple rock. When we got there Tarn exclaimed that it looked like a pair of breasts in that way that only a British person could. Apparently you have to go around the beach to make it look like a split apple. 

The beach at split apple was totally deserted. Jane, Tarn and I took full advantage of this fact and went traipsing all over. The sand was a black and tan color and on the north side of the beach there were little sea caves. We wondered around the area a little while and took some pictures. We were being tourists after all!

Tarn and I at Split Apple

We finished up in Abel Tasman and got some Chinese take out. To keep the food warm we put it on the dashboard and turned up the defroster to keep it warm. The Oddity has a defroster that would boil water given the chance. This is one of it’s many redeeming qualities. We got back to Jane’s house and watched “The Men Who Stare at Goats.” During the movie Tarn told me about her boyfriend back in Britain and how she missed him. I thought about Ellen. I’m having fun but I’ll be having more fun when she shows up.

On Wednesday it was time to clean gear. Jane showed Tarn and I the hose and we washed it all off. We were as careful as you would expect young college aged people to be. As a result we were pretty wet by the time we got done. Tarn was supposed to leave that day so I had agreed the day before that it was madness to catch a bus to Blenheim early and then wait around for two hours at the train station. Instead we took the Oddity so we could have adventures. We were driving along up route six when we saw a sign for Hori Bay. It was 14 km and it said you needed a four-wheel drive. Luckily for us I happen to know that the Oddity is the pinnacle of off-road technology. Nothing the Japanese made in 1995 can compare with it’s awesome Minivan power. It has a brush guard for God’s sake! It really is the honey badger Narwhal vehicle of the east.

Tarn said, “Hori Bay! Do you think there are whores there?” I replied, “Only one way to find out!” and off we went. We wound up through the hills to a mountaintop on a road that was not much different than the forest service roads of my childhood. It was much like going up to Sarver’s Cabin in the Jefferson National Forest. We got to the top of the mountain and found what appeared to be a skid pad. Being a young male I decided a handbrake turn was necessary. (As a side note to Ellen, I know how you’ll react to this but I assure you that I know you think handbrake turns are the coolest things boys can do. Your denial of this fact just proves my point further.) It has been proven by top scientists at “Top Gear” that females love the handbrake turn. Tarn did the obligatory eye roll and we continued on down the mountain

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The view was stunning. There was the Tasman Bay to the left and Cook Strait in front of us going out to the Tasman Sea. There were mountains sprinkled on the scenery of deep blue water. As we drove down the mountain we could see Hori Bay, the anticipation was growing. “Why would they choose to put a 14 km road through the wilderness if not for something grandiose” I thought? We got down to the bay and discovered a little pebble beach with a creek running through it. Tarn and I both broke out laughing. It was the most mundane beach we had ever seen. Still, we had a rock skipping contest which I won with a total of one skip (we both suck at skipping rocks apparently). We hopped back in the Oddity and went on to Blenheim stopping at another park on the Pelorus river. Here Tarn showed me a sliver fern. I realized that I had been looking for actual silver ferns this entire time but actually the silver bits were on the bottoms of the leaves. Not my most intelligent feeling moment. We saw a woman meditating next to the river and decided to slink away so as not to disturb her. We got to Blenheim bitter cold rainy afternoon. To kill time we got baked goods at the shop near the bus station. I tried a custard square for the first time and we had our last argument about what custard was supposed to be. We had been having little arguments about pronunciations and word meanings since we had met. As the bus came I helped her load her humongous rucksack and gave her a quick hug.

I have to admit I felt pretty low. Tarn had been a fun companion the past few days. She was very friendly and always up for a random adventure. It was easy to hang out with her too because she had a very committed boyfriend back in the UK who she was obviously very excited about seeing. We found comfort in each other’s missing of a significant other. I had mentioned to her, for instance, that every time I saw a plane touch down at Nelson airport I thought, “I wish Ellen was on that plane.” But alas, NZ is a land much like Gatlinburg. To the law of fast friendships we all must abide. I exchanged email addresses with her and we made plans to visit each other (I told her to bring her boyfriend to the VPI Cave Club float trip, he and I could bro out while her and Ellen rolled eyes, standard procedure). It was nice having someone gracing the passenger seat of the Oddity. But it was now empty and the next new friend could have their chance to ride the mighty AWD Oddity. In a few months it would be Ellen but until that, who knows?

Tarn, Rod, Jane, Me, at the entrance of Summit Cave. 

Blenheim and Nelson

Well I finally have some internet that will allow me to upload things without booting me! The following is a lengthy and largely unedited set of notes that I've taken from Blenheim. It's all I've had time to do. You will also be happy to know that a camera charger has been procured! Sorry for not blogging too much but the internet hardly exists in New Zealand. I'm in the Nelson Library right now so I have enough bandwidth to actually upload! Here are the notes from Blenheim.

Going to Blenheim

10-9-12

This morning I went to the library as usual. I decided that I was tired of Christchurch for a little while. I saw a job painting a hostel in Blenheim. I figured what the hell. Might as well get out and see some of the country. I hadn’t done that yet so it seemed as if the time was ripe. The drive to Blenheim was beautiful. Rolling up the coast I passed mountains and picturesque seasides. Most of the little inlets had a very pretty town in them. As I drove I noticed the weather getting worse until I hit Blenheim. The weather here changed for the worst quite quickly. I got to the hostel and checked in. The lady at the desk told me that they wanted me to do two hours of painting per night I stayed. I have to say that I imagined this little cool seaside town. Blenheim is not a cool seaside town. Cool yes, but it’s a working town. The major industry there is wine making. There is a lot of work but its long hours at minimum wage. Often it rains which made it even more fun here. I talked to the landlord and the two hours I would work should have been paying me 14 dollars an hour. Rooms at this place went for $24 a night or so. Not a bad deal really. The hostel was run down but not too bad for what you were getting. They washed your bedding for you and provided showers wash and a place to cook with all the accouchements.

The people at this hostel were very cool. The first thing that happened were a group of people asked me if I wanted to go to Domino’s for pizza. The car ride to the $5 dinner was a hodge podge of nationalities from British to Argentinean and everything in between. We entered the Domino’s from the parking lot exit since we were degenerate backpackers. As it turns out these people were all there working on vineyards wrapping vines. Very hard farm work so I felt kind of bad that all I was doing was painting. At dinner I met some Irish people and some English. The general coconscious was that people wanted to leave but weren’t savvy to the jobs down south. I talked to an Englishman named Chris for a few hours then went to bed.

12-9-12

After staying there a few days I began to realize the method to the madness. There is a day and night shift. Some people sleep at day and work at night and vice versa. The ones there during the day were preferable. I also found out that if you are English this is a form of servitude that can win you an extra year in NZ. Working in the agriculture industry for three months gives you an extra year if you’re from the UK. All the people were there paying their dues (except the Germans, I have no idea why they were in Blenhiem.)

Painting the doors of the place was a fun job. Very relaxed since I really only HAD to work two hours a day. I worked more to build up nights of stay. Since Chris had lost his car due to engine failure I figured I’d just give them to him. I offered to take him south but he liked the job security he had there. I’ll see if I can find a job opening for him then try again before I leave. There is an urge to take as many of these people as I can when I go. It’s a pretty sad place really. The people are exceedingly friendly though. The owners of the hostel are very friendly and I could tell they were doing everything they could to provide quality housing while still turning a profit. The other people staying there thought it was pretty bad though, at least compared to what they were used to in places like Auckland.

The mix of different people in the hostel was interesting as well. One of them was an Iranian. Me being from the US and him being from there made things shaky at first but then I realized that he was just a little off. The Iranian was a really nice guy but he had a tendency to talk to people who weren’t there. Generally everybody was a little nervous of him.

All the people from the UK and America usually hung out with some of the Germans. There were also a couple of Mexicans and an Argentinean. You couldn’t help but like them. Everyone working under such adverse conditions seemed to make them closer in Blenheim. Dinners were a lively affair and everyone got along really well. The hostel also had no divisions of boys and girls. I happened to be in a room with two other boys but girls and boys shared rooms and even one big bathroom.

On the night of Sept. 12 I made a big pot of chili. People went for that really well. The English and the Germans especially liked it. The other American also made biscuits and gravy. This greatly interested our European counterparts. As we sat around eating biscuits and gravy with chili I reflected on the different nationalities around the room. Every continent was represented in that room. It was a very refreshing scene. We discussed euphemisms late into the night.

A few days later I got invited to go to an Irish pub by the weekend manager. It was just like going to the London Underground back home. The pub was a very relaxed place. We had beer and talked at length about our respective homes and families. We walked home by the river that runs through Blenheim, which was a very pleasant place

.

On Friday I walked up into the hills. I was originally only meaning to go a little way because I had a mountain bike to pick up at 4:00 PM so I was really just killing time. The day was pleasant and I saw a person up the hill from me. Now it was a race. It wasn’t to him though so I caught him rather quickly. The guy was a Malaysian as I found out when we got to the top. The other cool thing about the top of that hill was that I could see the north island from there. Another interesting thing was that there was a water fountain at the top of the mountain. This was helpful since I didn’t have any water with me. I took a look from the top and started down. The boots I had just bought from the Warehouse (which is basically walmart) were total crap, I thought as I made my way down the mountain. Luckily they only cost $30 so I could afford to try again. The way back down took a long time so I went to get the bike and then went straight back to the hostel. I got there just in time to paint “The Zoo” on the door before everyone got home.

We had a nice party that evening but the next morning I woke up and realized that it was time to be in Nelson. I gathered my things and said my goodbyes  then departed Blenheim. I realized, as I left, that I would miss it more than I had thought I would. Driving out through the wine country was a nice end to my stay there. I drove through the mountains and eventually arrived in Nelson. I got some fish and chips for lunch and then went to find a caver named Jane. When I found her she took me to see some other cavers in the region. We ate dinner with the president of the NZSS. The weather was extremely rainy and abysmal but the company was very nice. I did miss the people at the hostel though.  

This ends the poorly written notes. They were mainly just late night scratching and spare time thoughts. 

Today (16-9-12) has been a really nice day. Jane and I woke up and talked for a while about the ways of the world then we went to town. We walked around to the numerous outdoor stores looking for a sleeping bag, which I was too foolish to bring. I thought before coming that I would just buy things when I got here but as it turns out NZ is much more expensive than the US. Also they don't have hot sauce... damn. Back in the hostel in Blenheim a guy went so far as to spend $100 to get a gallon of Franks Hot Sauce shipped to him with some Bisquick. The internationals were awestruck by biscuits and gravy. 

Nelson is a beautiful town. It is in a large protected bay. On the other side of the bay is the Able Tasman national park. Near this park is Takaka hill which is where the Nelson Speleological Group has their hut. We are going over there this week to do some caving. Yes I am finally going caving. The NSG has vertical gear for a very reasonable price for hire so I am able to go vertical caving on the cheap. 

Nelson is also where I am settling down and looking for serious work before Ellen gets here. I will probably end up across the bay looking for a kayak tour guide job or something. 

The next upload should have pictures so I can finally show people what NZ looks like!

Dan

Voyages of the Oddity

Well I now have a set of wheels. My good friend Jonathan Carr sold me his 1995 honda Odyssey. It has all wheel drive and a stinger bar with fog lights so in spite of Naomi Orndorff's criticism it's more or less the manliest van on the road. I spent the better part of Thursday getting it insured but then once I did I treated myself to $20 of gas to drive into the port hills for some tramping. This, as it turned out, was an awesome decision. If you go south out of Christchurch you pass through a tunnel into the main port area. This is in the crater of an extinct volcano. As I drove out this road I couldn't help but be reminded of the world's best driving roads segments of Top Gear. I went out over the scenic terrain through the port area and over a hill into the farming land beyond to the south. It was a really amazing drive but I was running low on fuel so I turned around and came back my original route. As I did this I saw a sign leading up the hill to the west saying "Sign of the Kiwi." The mountain peaks around the port at Christchurch are all named after local birds so I figured since the Kiwi was the national bird there must be something cool up there. The drive up the mountain was fairly hair raising. The road was a VERY narrow two lane that looked as if one too many earthquakes had hit it. Interspersed liberally on the winding track were cattle guards made out of railroad track so they made a rumbling sound when I crossed them. I got higher and higher and subsequently the view got better. Down in the crater the ships were going in and out of the port at the large natural mouth formed by a gap on the north side in the rim of the volcano.

After about 15 minutes of climbing I came to the crest of the crater and the entire Canterbury plains opened up. I could see as far as the Southern Alps. As I crested the rim of the crater I chanced to look to the right of the car and there was a very small trail head. I turned the Oddity around and parked. The trail was very small and lead into some very overgrown bush. Tramping into the bush I noticed all sorts of wildlife in a very pleasant, low lying, grove of trees. Sunlight burst in at the end of the grove. Crossing that threshold I came into an alpine meadow. Below me I could see the mountain road snaking away toward Christchurch. Ahead there was a large rocky outcrop. There was a trail leading around the rather imposing outcrop and one that seemed to go straight up it. Being curious and remembering what my dad always said about my old friend John Jones I decided to take the hard way. After about 15 minutes of bushwhacking and climbing I ended up on the top of the mountain. There was a metal marker there showing the cardinal directions of the compass. To the south east the crater went around to make the harbor. The other side of the harbor has mountains twice as big as the ones on the Christchurch side. To the northwest I saw Christchurch and the Canterbury plains. They went as far as the eye could see to the Southern Alps in the middle of the country. To the south was the peninsula stretching away to the open ocean. All this and I didn't have a camera.

Luckily I had brought my computer in my backpack. I pulled it out and managed to snap a few pictures with the camera before the battery died. I was amazed at the height of the mountains and the people living and farming among them so easily. Later my friend Alice told me over tea that these were merely hills and that the big mountains were in the center of the island.

I went back to the Oddity and began my descent back to Christchurch. I was quite thirsty but as I was driving I saw a spring coming out of the the mountain. I stopped and filled an old ginger beer bottle I had in the car. It was some of the best tasting water I have ever had!

That is another thing about Christchurch. The water comes from artisan springs and is supplied to the town. This results in the water being extremely pure.

I finished my drive past sign of the Kiwi. I saw the observatory and a few mountain biking tracks. There were very few cars to be seen up there. I intersected the road leading down into Christchurch and ended up where I started my trip in Cashmere on the south side of Christchurch. I saw my friends Alice and Lindsay. They are cavers in the CCG or Canterbury Caving Group. I had tea and dinner with them to end the day.

Soon I should hear from the people out at Tekapo whether I have a job or not. They don't seem to check their email regularly there so I'm still waiting. It should be soon though. Hope everyone is having a good time in the states! As I sit here writing this a raucous (it had better be raucous) speleoseminar should be going on. Have a beer for me (Drink two Peppy. Why? BECAUSE WHY NOT?!)


Dan "Joker" Crowder

Choppers, Zed and Fish and Chips.

Well I'm finally getting good at this. I have my own computer using free WiFi in the library just down the street from where I live. I'm only going to be able to use this set up temporarily though. I'm probably going to get a job in construction in a couple days.

A note on Christchurch.

The city center is all but destroyed. There are just a few high rises still up and those are condemned. The entire area is cordoned off so that no one can go there. The only thing still there is the central bus depot which is weird because you can ride the bus into the middle of what looks like post-war London. The people are taking it really well but the lawyers haven't let them back in yet to rebuild, which is causing many people to be upset. People generally seem to feel like nothing has been done. They're generally right. Only now are the work crews starting to make their way into the central city. Most of the reconstruction effort has been concentrated on the residential areas thus far. The jobs are mostly in this industry so I'll probably end up working for City Care or one of the other big reconstruction firms. The other option is going to that cushy (if not minimum wage) lifeguard job. That would mean giving up caving and tramping on the weekends though.

Speaking of caving, when they do a major cave rescue drill here they get to ride on Iroquois helicopters. Think of Wil Orndorff in a Vietnam movie and that's more or less a practice rescue. The cavers here routinely use choppers because they can eliminate two days hard tramping in 10 minutes. The caves are mostly on the western side of the south island. It is really rainy there so their trips get cancelled on a routine basis. Tramping is a really big deal here too. If you haven't figured it out yet tramping is hiking. I also catching myself calling the letter "Z" zed a lot. It's weird because I say it in my typical red neck accent. This gives my ZN friends a laugh.

Everything is much more relaxed here. They charge you $9 to register your car and it can be done at any post office. It took me 5 minutes. I bought it off a caver, Jonathan Carr. He's more or less the Mike Futrell of the far east. Total badass. I also had my first foray into fish and chips yesterday. They eat it with tomato sauce which is like ketchup but less sweet. It's the cheapest lunch you can get at $5. You don't tip here either so if you come visit don't try to tip the cab.

I also went out to New Brighton Pier the other day. You can probably google an image of it. Its really nice with a very severe landscape. I'll probably roll out to the port today and check over there for shipping jobs before I do construction.

We had a major electrical storm here the other day. When I say major I mean like a normal storm by VA standards. That being said it was all over the news. If you saw it I promise it was no Derecho.

Well I'm going to go finish up insuring my car (which is $300 a year even for a stupid backpacker... WINNING).

Dan "Joker" Crowder the Kiwi Adventurer

Things to do

Well it is my second day in Christchurch. I've gotten the bus figured out pretty well and I have an AWD Honda Odyssey. I know it is a cool car because it has a stinger bar on it. The Internet service here is pretty rough so I haven't been posting as I would like.

I can answer a few questions though.
Yes they do have yutes. Most of them are Fords or Holdens.
Scrumpey is also a thing but only people like vpi cavers would drink it (looking at you wells).
McDonalds advertises lamb like its the best thing ever.
Kiwis (bird) are adorable
Kiwis (people) talk funny.
Kiwis (fruit) are used in salad.

Glad to hear the Hokies won. The media has the games blacked out here so it's all Christchurch Crusaiders for the sports fix.

That's all for now. Big post tomorrow!

Coming into Christchurch

So first lets talk about flying. When you fly to NZ you not only lose a day, you gain a very long and restless night. I left on Saturday Sept. 1 and got here Monday Sept. 3 and never saw Sunday. That being said, you can't help but feel accepted when you get off the plane and ride a bus to a stranger's house only to be whisked off and have all your personal problems like bank accounts taken care of.

The moment I arrived I was taken to a bank where I started an account. Tomorrow I'm told I'm getting a car and a mountain bike if I want to use it. The people out in Tekapo haven't said anything about the job but with friends like these I'm going to have a very hard time leaving Christchurch.

That's all for now due to the extreme lack of sleep. More to come when I get a charger that will work for my computer!


Cheers!