Earning our keep in Karamea

Posted on February 10, 2013 by adventuresoftwo

Off to work! Weird…it’s been quite some time since we have said that, huh?

Waking up to yet another rainy morning and having already returned our rental car, we had a soggy walk to the edge of Greymouth to begin our day’s hitching. In the world of hitchhikers, rain is just about the worst thing you can imagine. Not because we will melt in it, but because it makes actually landing a ride really difficult. For some reason, no one ever seems to want to go out of their way to get their vehicle’s interior sopping wet. Imagine that. Thankfully, luck was on our side and after about an hour of wishful roadside shivering a local woman took pity on us and pulled over. She was only driving a few miles up the road, but it was a few miles further than we were so we gladly accepted her offer. Even better, she dropped us at a corner shop (which Kiwi’s call a “diary”) where there was a little shelter that we could stand under to continue our hitching and stay dry.

As the rain began to let off, our hitches got easier. We made it all the way to Westport without too much hassle. We always have fun talking to the different people, locals and other travellers alike, we meet while hitching so time tends to fly by. On the pavement again, we waited for a bit before catching our final ride of the day with a decidedly surly Irishman named Patty. Wrinkled, tattooed, clad in filthy flannel, and sporting a wispy ponytail, it was clear that he did not make a habit of socializing. We told Patty we were headed to Karamea to work for a few weeks and as it turned out, he was well aquainted with our hosts. I think that is when it began to sink in just how small and utterly remote Karamea really was. This place is literally the end of the road. Whoa.

We walked the last few miles into Little Wanganui, the township-esque settlement located just outside of Karamea where we would actually be working, and navigated our way to the Anderson’s house. Dianne and Russell Anderson that is. To set the scene, we walked in to their little farm house and were immediately greeted with cookies and tea. We could already tell that we had scored a phenomenal workstay.

So a little about our amazing hosts. Dianne was a warm, friendly, and cheerful person…all the time! She was also a terrific cook. In fact, my mouth is watering just thinking about her kitchen concoctions. (In the words of New Zealander’s, “Yum-as”) Russell was soft spoken and very much a listener. When he did talk though, he was the perfect combination of knowledge and underhanded humor. They have traveled a shocking amount and were full of good stories. It seemed like every time you think you have them figured out, they have some other surprise up their sleeves. Their grandson, Frano, was also living with them for the season. Frano was fresh out of high school and just an overall nice guy. In a nutshell, everything about Frano was perfectly 17 which meant we had a lot of laughs with him, usually over the cookies we baked or the bad (but guilty pleasure) TV he was watching. At their core, they were just good, hearty, salt of the Earth people who we were really lucky to get to know.

Dianne and Russell run a dairy farm as well as a bed and breakfast. Well, Russell runs a dairy farm and Dianne runs a B&B. Growing up in the Midwest, it was totally bizarre to wrap our brains around a dairy farm being located right on the coast. The beach was literally across the road and it was beautiful. One evening we walked out there after dinner to catch low tide. It was incredible to say the least! The beach was so flat that with the tide out, it seemed impossibly wide. A sheer layer of water on the damp sand reflected the setting sun and left the whole beach shimmering, sparkling, glittering. It was so magical to just stroll along the sand and know that you won’t forget that little nothing moment for the rest of your life. I can’t imagine having that right out your front door. I think that answers the question of why they choose to live this far out, just barely on the grid. (I mean, they didn’t even have electricity in Karamea until the 70′s!)

The way Help Exchange, the website we found this workstay through, works is really simple. Basically, the deal is that we work for four hours per day in exchange for food and accommodation. While in Karamea, we primarily worked with Dianne on the B&B side of things since they had paid, trained employees for their dairy operations already. For the most part, the work was really easy and quite fun. We tackled everything from washing and detailing their car to cleaning out the fridge for an upcoming B&B inspection, from weeding the garden to helping in the kitchen. Although we think that Dianne thought I was rather dainty and needed “lady work” which implies that I was hardly to leave the kitchen. Kind of funny, but I really can’t complain. With Dianne being such a great cook, I came away with heaps of her “secret family recipes”. Yum-as! (The only problem I might encounter trying to whip up some of her specialty sauces at home is that unlike Dianne, I might have a tough time getting my hands on 30 kilos of tomatoes at one time )

It wasn’t all work and no play though. That is for certain! (I know you were all really worried about us working too hard.) Karamea is the gateway to the Heaphy Track, one of New Zealand’s famed Great Walks, which takes hikers through the heart of Kahurangi National Park and hence this little dot on the map bumps right up against a collection of awesome outdoor excursions. When it finally looked like a solid day of sun with no threat of rain, we borrowed one of the farm vehicles (which I might add required you to drive with the steering wheel at a 90 degree angle in order to go in a straight line) and drove up the coast a little further to see a few sights.

Our first stop was at the Oparara arches. There was a short hike through the rainforest taking you past two naturally formed arches, aptly known as the little arch and the big arch by locals. Typically, when we think of arches we imagine the thin, delicate, red rock sandstone arches of Moab, Utah. These were completely different. They were made of limestone and instead of being the thin, defying gravity shape we expected, they were more like open ended caves with rivers flowing through them. It was really neat to be able to walk right through these caverns and see how the amber colored water has shaped the rock over the years. The It was a very unexpected landscape which made it all the better in our minds.

After the arches, we drove a little farther to see the caves Dianne and Russell told us about. There were no lights so we just had our one, slightly dull headlamp to guide us. The first cave we ventured into had these crazy formations on the ground. It looked like someone had gone in there and done extensive tile work. It was so cool and also, unfortunately, near impossible to really describe. The other cave was called the Box Cave. Well named too since that is exactly what it was. Unlike most caves with their curved roofs, stalactites and stalagmites this cave was a perfect box punched into the side of the hill. It looked like a cube of earth had simply been carefully removed and taken elsewhere. The farther we walked the more endless the Box Cave started to feel. Couple that with the many side tunnels available and I think you could spend ages exploring this cave and probably still stumble upon something new. A pretty cool perk for living in the middle of nowhere for a few weeks. Between the arches and the caves, we had ourselves a full day of exploration and heaps of good fun.

And then disaster struck. Well, that it pretty dramatic I suppose. Basically, I just got sick. Really sick. I don’t remember the last time I was sick enough to not get out of bed, but for several days straight I was more or less completely bedridden. I was pretty sure it was a sinus infection, but I had no idea such a common illness could render you completely useless. I was in so much pain that I actually woke myself up crying. It was like some sort of mideval torture device was strapped on my skull trying to crush it. Not looking like the medication I was taking was making any headway, we decided it was time to see a real doctor. (Not the rural doctor in Karamea who proved to be less helpful than WebMD.com.)

The closest doctor was in Nelson, a good five hour drive away. Lucky for us, a girl working on the dairy farm, Noelia from Argentina, was starting the Heaphy Track that same day. Conveniently the Heaphy ends near Nelson. Rather than her trying to hitch by herself back to the Karamea trailhead to retrieve her car, it worked out that we were able to drop her at the start and drive ourselves to Nelson to the Urgent Care. In a few days time, we would pick her up when she finished her hike and she would drop us back at our Nelson Help Exchange workstay. The stars aligned perfectly! And thank goodness they did because I’m not sure hitchhiking was in the cards for me.

And the saga continues. Stay tuned for the next edition!

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JMT- Part Four – The Finale!

Posted on August 29, 2012 by adventuresoftwo

It’s our last night and we are so close to finishing the JMT! I could not get over the fact that we were literally sleeping 3,000 feet below the summit of Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the lower 48, and would be standing on top in just a few hours. My mind was whirling! One moment I was so thrilled to be finishing and the next I was sad to see our JMT adventure coming to a close. Then nervous about making the summit. Then proud that we were really going to accomplish this at all, much less in only 7.5 days. Then overjoyed. Then tired and sore. Then happy. I think I eventually landed on just feeling overwhelmed. Between the altitude (at an elevation of 11,500 feet) and the rollercoaster of emotions, sleep was more of a distant hope on the horizon than a realistic possibility.

We did not have to feign sleep for too long though with a 3am wake up call right around the corner. The alarm went off and from there on out it was go time. Tent down, water purified, Snickers consumed…all in record speed! From here on out it was up and up and then up some more!

Hiking in the dark really changes the dynamic. For whatever reason, I have always liked hiking in the dark. It’s so peaceful and calm. There does not seem to be the same frantic rush or hustle and bustle that can result from hiking in the daylight. The only sign of anyone else on the trail is the glow of headlights above or below you. Just your breath and the star-filled sky keeping you company. (And boy were there a lot of stars out that night! Amazing!)

We kicked it into high gear right away, only stopping a few times to adjust our layers. Having stared at the maps long enough over the course of the week, I knew that we had 5 miles to gain 3,000 feet before we reached the summit. The middle section of the climb was about a mile of switchbacks in which we gained about 1,000 feet, which is fairly steep. I was not particularly looking forward to this section so you can imagine my surprise when we reached the Trail Crest junction where our JMT route up the backside and the day hike route up the front from Whitney Portal joined. I knew that this junction marked the end of the switchback section and the start of the final 2 miles, but I was still waiting for the tough switchbacks. Confused, I asked Ron, “Wait, I thought we still had to do the switchbacks. Where are they?” When he told me that we were done with them, I was simultaneously thrilled and shocked. While I was busy dreading them, we had already cruised up them. We were making incredible time! (Apparently my nerves the night before were totally without reason.)

I felt absolutely superhuman as we practically jogged up the last 2 miles towards the summit at 14,496 feet. Perhaps it was our joy as we neared the top or maybe it was the balanced breakfast of candy bars that we downed earlier, but we absolutely floated, not at all feeling the effects of the thin air at altitude. It was magical!

We rounded the top only to be greeted by a thick cloud cover. Great view! (Insert heavy sarcasm.) Although we joked around, I was definitely heartily disappointed about the reality of coming all this way and not getting the opportunity to witness our coveted sunrise. But John Muir was not done with us just yet! Within minutes of reaching the summit, the clouds began to lift! Lit from beneath by the rising sun, the clouds were on fire with light! Magnificent does not even begin to describe this sight! The craggy peaks glowing, the distant lakes shimmering, the clouds flaming…it was all so much more than we could have possibly imagined. There really is no way to explain how I felt standing up there on top of Whitney (we are on a first name basis now) that can truly capture the happiness, awe, and enchantment of the moment. All I know for certain is that we were exactly where we were supposed to be at that moment in time.

After a quick summit dance (captured on video) and officially joining the ranks by signing the summit log, we started the long decent. Emphasis on the LOOOONG! Ten miles of downhill, dropping 6,000 vertical feet, is a lot to ask of the body…especially after over a week of marathon length days. Switchback by switchback we made our way down in the scorching heat towards Whitney Portal where we new we had cheeseburgers waiting with our names written all over them. It’s quite possible that the only thing that kept us moving was the promise of a shower and a full belly in the near future as we continued to make hundreds of switchbacks. (Literally hundreds.) But we did it! We did it! We did it! Immediately upon reaching the trailhead and completing the JMT I started to bawl. Really understanding the magnitude of what we had just done, a whole rush of emotions slapped me right in the face. I was overwhelmed with happiness, pride, painful knees, the heat index, excitement, and overall awe that I simply could not stop sobbing.

Once I finally pulled myself together again and we successfully inhaled our well-deserved cheeseburgers, fries, ice cream cones, and pizza, we spent the night watching trashy reality TV (a rare treat) and sanitizing ourselves via the leaky Mount Whitney Motel shower. Never before have curtains with paint splatters and giant slashes in them, floral sheets, and a rattling air conditioner been welcomed with such open arms. It was glorious!

All in all, our JMT experience was truly priceless. I would not change a single thing. It was perfect in its imperfections and epic in its challenges. It was moving, breathtaking (not just due to the altitude), and spectacular. In a word, it was unforgettable.

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JMT – Part Three – Hightailing it to the base of Whitney

Posted on August 29, 2012 by adventuresoftwo

Waking up to a recovered Barbara (read well fed and warm), we enjoyed breakfast as the sun rose over Evolution Valley. By 9, we found ourselves at the much-anticipated Evolution Lake. Many people that have done the trail before, have always hyped this place up. Rightly so. The glassy lake reflected the high peaks that tower above. We took a long break here to soak in the first really spectacular view that we had come across since Reds Meadow.

Up and up, we continued towards the top of Muir Pass. The hiking was, for us, a comfortable grade, and we gained the pass quickly. This is the first pass that had us above tree line for an extended section of trail. Atop Muir Pass is an emergency shelter constructed in the 1930s that provides a bit of safety for hikers caught in storms above treeline. The stout, beehive-shaped hut is an impressive bit of engineering. We luckily enjoyed a bit of sunshine as we ate lunch, but grey clouds soon drew in above us, and we quickly understood the need for this emergency shelter.

Down a descent that seemed to have no end, we hiked until almost 6. Downhill was quickly becoming harder than the uphill. I’ve always heard this from older hikers wearing knee braces… finally Im understanding their woes. Is this my invitation to the club?

There was less campsites at Palisade Creek than we were expecting, but we were eventually able to find a site tucked up near the stream junction. After a delicious dinner of pesto and angel hair, we cleaned up and started brushing our teeth.

BRRRRRRRR!!!!

I tried to yell with a muffled mouth full of toothpaste, pointing at the small black bear that wandered within 50 feet from where we had been eating our dinner. He looked at me quizzically as I stumbled to grab my camera, still foaming at the mouth with Crest. Just as I got the camera up to my eye, he lost interest in Barbara and me, and wandered off to the creek. We made extra sure to put all of our smellables in the bear cans that night.

The next morning we had a hefty, 4000 foot climb up to the top of Mather Pass. This eleven mile, sustained climb was a nice warm up for the day. We soaked in the sun and once again enjoyed lunch on top of the pass. As we ate, we chatted with a father-son duo that were also thru-hiking the trail. Rand and Thomas were out from Annapolis, Maryland and looked like they were having a great time. It is so awesome to see families out doing this trail. Hopefully we can do the same with our kids some day. Thomas mentioned that they were a bit short on food, so Barbara and I took the opportunity to lighten our load a bit and gave them some of the extra we were carrying. Thus our decision to finish a day early was solidified.

From the top of Mather, we could almost see the next pass, Pinchot. We boogied down the trail, feeling good and keeping a quick clip. Our original plan was to stay the night at Lake Majorie, just below the pass. Upon reaching the lake, we both had plenty of energy, so we inhaled a candy bar each and crushed out the climb up to the top of Pinchot. Two high passes in one day! On top of Pinchot, we cooked dinner and enjoyed the long rays of sunshine, as the sun began to set below the ridge. It was if we had a private seat at the nicest table on the top of the world. We continued another three quarters of a mile down the backside of the pass, and scouted a campsite on a high gravel patch at about 11,000 feet. We both were feeling fantastic and fit at the end of the day.

After a restless night of sleep- high altitude does funny things to your sleep cycle- we woke to an awesome sunrise, and a long downhill hike. This was the first morning that we would start with a sustained downhill instead of a big climb. While it was an interesting change of pace, we both agree that for us, going uphill to start the morning is much preferred.

We finished our descent at 1140. Ahead of us we had a 1700 foot, 4.1 mile climb up to Dollar Lake. Typically I lead the climbs and she leads the descents- no reason in particular, other than habit. I was feeling a bit groggy from the lack of sleep, so I asked Barbara to lead this climb. It is nice to have the person who is feeling freshest in front, as they can ‘pull’. There is a giant psychological benefit to having someone fresh setting the pace in front, when you are aren’t feeling the greatest. You don’t have to think about the pace, you just have to keep up.

On this morning, Barbara really pulled- we knocked out the climb in just over an hour and twenty minutes. We were blowing by everyone else like they were standing still- she had us hiking at 3 miles an hour, on a substantial uphill! I did my best to hang on, trying not to blow up. We really earned that lunch.

From Dollar Lake, we crossed Rae Lakes, and began the steep, punchy climb up Glen Pass. This one took us by surprise. While not the longest climb on the John Muir Trail, this one made us slow down a bit and really suck some serious wind. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the pre-lunch throwdown, or that we were climbing in the afternoon, but this pass caught us off guard and was much more difficult than we had anticipated. At the top, we barely paused- we still had 9 miles and it was already 3:30.

Exhausted and worn out from the steep descent, Barbara and I stopped for dinner at Bubbs Creek. As we cooked, the clouds that had kept us cool all day, began to let loose some drizzle. Against Barbara’s will, we packed up our cook kit and began climbing up the valley a bit. We were rewarded for uphill wet effort, with a beautiful rainbow that brought back out Barbara’s beautiful smile.

…………

The morning climb up to Forester Pass took us all the way up to 13,200 feet. The air gets thin up there! Fortunately, the trail builders who created the JMT did an amazing job keeping the grades reasonable, and as long as you kept putting one foot in front of the other, the pass came fairly easily. We were on top just after 10. This was the last big climb before the finish and it felt great to climb it with such ease.

After a quick descent down steep switchbacks, we started the long flat-ish traverse towards the base of Mount Whitney. Today we had over 23 miles to cover, with over 16 of it coming after Forester Pass. Just a few quick, 7-800 foot climbs stood between us and our campsite at Guitar Lake. While the hiking was generally easy, mentally this was a tough day for both of us. We wanted to be at that campsite so bad. As we hiked, we started to make plans for the following day. After pouring over the maps, and daydreaming about showers and cheeseburgers, we settled on a predawn departure to catch sunrise from the top of the highest peak in the lower 48.

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Redwoods – The Land of Big Trees

Posted on August 2, 2012 by adventuresoftwo

Goodbye Oregon! Hello California!

Redwoods – The land of big trees! Last September when we swung through Redwoods National Park we spent the first couple of hours driving around wondering where in the world the park entrance was. It was not until we caved and eventually stopped to ask that we learned that Redwoods is unlike many other parks that have a main entrance station and vistor center. Rather, Redwoods is a conglomeration of National and California State park land and lacks these typical park staples. Now that we were older, wiser, and clued into this good-to-know tidbit we wasted no time and navigated the White Rascal right into the heart of the park for a scenic drive through the Jedediah Smith forest and a hike to the Boy Scout Tree. Surrounded by towering, thousand-year-old trees reaching hundreds of feet into the air and huge, lush ferns carpeting the forest floor it did not take long to forget we were in fact still in the 21^st century and not in the land before time about to come face to face with a T-Rex. We reached our destination and all prior thoughts that it was somewhat stupid to hike all this way just to see a tree when we were already in the midst of such giants immediately slipped away. This was a decidedly ENORMOUS tree!

The clouds lifted just in time for dinner overlooking the craggy beach below presenting a very different Redwoods than we had experienced last September in persistent fog. A beautiful sunset to cap off the night was really more than we could ask for, but Redwoods definitely delivered. No complaints here!

A nice lazy morning sleeping in afforded us the opportunity to really express our inner vagrant-selves as we tumbled out of the White Rascal around 11am in a popular parking lot surprising a couple of unassuming hikers. Class acts! Soon after, we were on our way and down to business as we started on our indisputably not busy schedule for the day. A nice little hike to stretch the legs led us to Fern Canyon where we again hiked through thick forests of monster trees and abundant vegetation until we reach the canyon itself. The name did not deceive! It really was a canyon covered in ferns as far as the eye could see. There was a trickle of a creek running through the canyon as well which made for some clever balancing on the occasional rock and log to avoid wet shoes if at all possible. I am happy to report that clearly our Olympic watching paid off as we tapped into our inner gymnast and scored what would be impressive balance beam scores. (Rio 2016!)

On our way to find fire wood, we recalled the tacky drive-thru tree we stumbled upon on our last Redwoods venture. It seemed only appropriate that we rinse and repeat. I mean, for only $5 an all-you-can-drive opportunity is a steal of a deal! We got our money’s worth squeezing the White Rascal through the cutout in the trunk of the massive Redwood at least a half dozen times. Jackpot!

A gourmet dinner complete with garlic toast (Caps off to Ron the chef!) on a bridge to nowhere reminded us just how lucky we are to be where we are and be doing what we are doing. The bridge was wiped out by a “river on a rampage” in 1964 during Christmas week, but thanks to the neat architecture a portion was saved and turned into a great historical overlook point/dining room. A toasty fire, a couple of good books, and an oceanside soundtrack marked another night on the books. Life is rich! From here it’s on to the Lost Coast Trail. Guess it’s high tide we get our hands on some maps! (Pun intended.)

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