Penny and Jamie

Mokihinui Weekend

2012-01-27T14:45:00.000-08:00

We had a fantastic weekend down south recently courtesy of the imagination of Jonathan Kennett. Jonathan is working part time at the moment for the Ministry of Economic Development on the New Zealand Cycle Trails project. This must be a big push for a self made man who has hardly ever worked for anyone, but he can see the opportunity for big gains for cycling in NZ. One of the approved projects Jonathan is keeping an eye on is the Old Ghost Road. An attempt to recreate and re-envisage the historic pack route route from Lyell on the Buller to Seddonville on the West Coast.

Jonathan's concept was to get mtbers from around the country to converge on the Mokihinui gorge, the northern part of the Old Ghost Road, for a weekend, to open up as much of the old pack track to mountain bike (grade 3) standard as we could. We would then have a few adventures as well. In the event there were over 40 of us that made the trip, with sizable contingents from Christchurch, Nelson and Wellington. With a few chainsaw gangs and the rest of us on loppers, grubbers and the like progress was fast...the 5km to Rough and Tumble creek knocked out in a solid day...and some real mint riding track exposed.

Well known MTBer Dave Mitchell and the lady that is always in his photos

Chainsaw getting stuck into some logfall

Emily "power cookie" Miazga watching people work

Paul Kennet riding a mint bit of track

A track sized whole in the vegetation

The evening was about getting together over a beer or two, enjoying the BBQ put on by the Old Ghost Road trust and trialling the yike bike, which was brought along by one of the Chch guys who is part of the development team. I had a good chat to Joe Arts, who with his caving mates is quietly going about some seriously hardcore exploration deep inside Mt Owen. Hard bastards. The next day we skivved off and went for an inflatable mission, via the track cleared the day before. The lower gorge of the Mokihinui is rather pleasant grade 2+. The 3 boat inflatable regatta went smoothly, although the Penny/Jamie combination did get pulverised at one stage, and Murray/Dougal took a rather lame swim the beginning of which is illustrated in the photos below.

Off down the river

I told Penny it was a good line.

Woohoo!

Waahaa!

The Sunday was capped off by a nice run/bike over the Charming Creek walkway to Granity and dinner at the Drifters cafe.We hadn't visited Charming Creek before and were impressed by the history, but a little shocked by the water quality of the cascading Ngakawau. This is a seriously cool river that has suffered from the mining on the Stockton plateau. There is also a hydro scheme planned here, which perhaps (there are concerns about the ocean discharge) has better environmental outcomes than the Mokihinui proposal.

Thanks to Jonathan for the photos. We have a new DSLR camera the products of which will be revealed soon. I am currently in Christchurch spending some time with family, in lieu of moving into our own house on the 15th of February. Exciting times!

Everest - Checking out the Big guy

2012-01-19T09:25:00.000-08:00

So we were up at Lobuche, in the Dudh Kosi valley, killing some time while waiting for the New Zealand summer to begin. It was cold, especially at night, and the yak dung smoke itched at the back of your throat like a furry carpet. The air itself, cold and stripped of moisture, tears at the furry carpet like a vacumn cleaner. The western food, carried in for days and prohibitively expensive, stares at us, daring us to splurge. The Nepalese food comes to us in ever decreasing volumes, just as we need the energy we are gradually bled dry. Bottled water is too expensive and the batteries for our UV filter don't work when it is this cold. Giant yaks shit in the streams constantly. Purged we dragged our butts up to Everest base camp, or at least the moraine wall above it, where there is some pretty mountain scenery.

Pumo-Ri with the viewpoint of Kala Pattar below

Looking up valley to some mountains

First glimpse of Everest for the day

One person forgot the camoflague tent rules for base camp.


This is Lhotse in the centre - Everest is obscured by the peak on left - Khumbu icefall!

The scenery really got cranking though when we headed up Kala Pattar like everyone does now. Many go up for sun-rise, but we had heard this was cold and over-rated. We were pleased to be there in the middle of the afternoon. Sam was like a model, posing with any mountain (read celebrity) he could wrap his arm around. Penny wasn't much better. The whole thing really was a big relaxed mountain love-fest.

And yeah aside from those ugly mugs there was actually a nice view. To go with my collage fetish, here is the beginning of my panorama obsession. Not sure what it looks like full size as it has been heavily reduced for the web....but what a massif!

Wandering Towards Everest

2012-01-18T14:47:00.000-08:00

It wasn't really our intention when going to Nepal to join the multitudes on the path to Everest Base Camp. It just sort of worked out that way; GB's village was close by and you know it was just there. It was an awesome surprise to find that there are so many options in this area to get off the beaten track and knock around a bit on easy terrain well above 5000metres. We chose the well-known "Three Passes" route, which swerves around amongst the hills and valleys below Everest. The aerial representation below shows our route as far as the Gokyo valley.

Namche Bazar must be one of the most famous villages in the world. There is something about its setting , sheltered in a snug ampitheatre from the mighty mountains around it, that sticks in the memory. It helps of course that Mt Everest is just up the valley and that Namche is the capital of the famous Sherpa people. Tourism has brought plenty of wealth to many Sherpas, the richest control trekking or guesthouse empires and live in grand houses in Kathmandu. Everyone is in on the act, guesthouses litter the track like discarded snickers bar wrappers, and Namche has grown to accomodate our western consumer needs. A lovely spot, but we passed through quickly heading for a guesthouse on the track near Khumjung.

Sam and Penny getting out of Namche in a hurry

And contemplating the massiveness of Thamserku


First sighting of Ama Dablam (right) and Everst (pyramid just left of centre)

The majesty of Ama Dablam - from our guesthouse in Khumjung

If Namche is the hub and commercial centre of the Sherpa people, the hidden valley of Khunde and Khumjung is their heart and soul. These were the villages that Sir Edmund Hillary fell in love with and centred his lifes work around. We went for a morning stroll around the villages, feeling uplifted without our packs on a beautiful morning with amazing views all around.

That day we headed on up the valley as far as Pheriche taking the track up the western side of the Dudh Koshi, through the awesome little village of Phortse which we really loved. We only saw a handful of tourists the entire day including a couple of English (I think) Doctors who had been manning (womanning?) the clinic at Pheriche for the last few months. They were wearing MACPAC's and it turns out they are based during the winters at Whakapapa skifield. Walking past Phortse we got a great view across the valley to Tengboche and the vast face of Thamserku behind. At one point we spotted a little herd of Himalayan Thar happily feeding on a small spur...not quite as persecuted as those that roam the Southern Alps.

Harvesting time in Phortse

Prayer stone amidst the potato fields

Phortse with Pharilapche behind

Himalayan Thar browse on spur - Tengboche in background

We arrived in Pheriche just after dusk, coughing our way into the yak dung powered settlement which sits in the valley floor and suffers an unfortunate inversion layer given the circumstances. We stayed in a lovely guesthouse which had an improvised wood-burner in the middle of the common room, this was to become standard and necessary over the next week or so. We were now at 3810metres altitude and it was getting pretty damn cold at night. From Pheriche we branched off from the main track and headed right up the Imja Khola in the direction of the well known "trekking peak" Island Peak and the high passes that lead to the Makalu area. We only went up valley as far as the guesthouses of Chukkung before hanging a left and crossing Kongma La back to the Dudh Koshi. This is a terrifically scenic area with views of Ama Dablam and surrounding mountains, Makalu, Lhotse and from the Kongma La itself, endless mountains to the west. Quite possibly the scenic highlight of our entire five month holiday!

A white wall above Chukkung

Ama Dablam towers above Chukkung

Sam begins the long climb to Kongma La

The Nuptse to Lhotse ridge blocks out a view of Everest

Penny has her day of suffering - this was steeper than it looks

What can you say about that mountain!

Nearing the top - Makalu appears in the centre background. Makalu is the 5th highest mountain in the world. On our trip we saw 8 of the ten highest mountains.

Penny with a few steps to go, pass at 5535metres

At the top looking west, Arakam Tse on left, Rolwaling dead centre in the distance, Lobuche glacier coming down to join the Khumbu

The crew, looking back the way we had come, Penny and her ginger beard men

The descent back the Khumbu was relatively quick, tho we couldn't say the same for the dubious scramble across the groaning glacier, where loose rock and yawning ice ponds gave us something different to think about. But what a day, next: on to Everest.

Towards the High Mountains

2012-01-09T14:06:00.000-08:00

I have been somewhat reticient in blogging about our recent trip to the Solu-Khumbu, though Penny previously put up a post focussed on the educational work she was doing. In November we trekked for a month in this region: first in the agricultural foothills of the Solu, then in the high mountains of the Khumbu. This part of Nepal is wellknown in New Zealand for its association with the work of Sir Edmund Hillary. Hillary not only built schools for the Sherpas of the Khumbu, he built them for the much more populous Rais and Chetris of the Solu. We saw evidence of his work in towns like Phaplu, Salleri and Bung.

Near Shivalaya to Sotag with our route in red

Our journey started in Shivalaya, a small town just beyond Jiri on the bus. We walked from here to the Solu capital Salleri, then the village of Deusa over the Lamajura La - 2000 metres of grunt. A memorable stop towards the top of the pass was Goyam, where we sculled back some of the ubiqutous sugary tea and interacted with the locals.


Sam reveals he is as soft as a marshmallow deep inside

Most of the tourists we encountered were very ragged looking people walking out from the Everest region, often after been stuck in Lukla for several days with no flights in prospects. The unreliability of Lukla airport due to weather conditions in peak trekking season seems to be one of the great secrets of the tourism world. This last season there were two periods of other nine days where no plane flights were possible - the helicopter companys must mae a killing. The journey through the vast landscape of terraced fields and villages was amazing, there were many monasterys and people to take photos of, and not a tourist in sight.

Curious kids...

In Deusa, while Penny was working, Sam and I chilled out, read books and explored the local environment. One day we headed down to the Dudh Kosi, a thousand metre descent from the village which is perched on a ridge. This is the river that flows from Everest, that we were soon to explore the headwaters of. Giant swing bridges, cross the river providing vital highways for the porters that service these remote communities, we met some locals on our travels, including students heading back into their villages for the holidays.

After a week in Deusa, we headed onto Sotang, the home village of GB, our guide from Kanchenjunga. It was amazing to visit GB's family home and live with them for a while and begin to understand Nepali village life. It is a world so removed from our own. Like all agricultural societies their day to day activity is so dependant on the weather, and while we were there it was raining during harvest and cut rice lay rotting on the fields. Another noticeable feature was the amount of young people. The small ridge of Sotang supports a population of over ten thousand and a high school of over 1000kids, studying in two shifts.

Images from Sotang

GB lives with his parents, sister-in-law and niece. His wife and children live 7 hours walk away with his wife's parents, while his brother in law lives in America, other brothers are in the Nepalese army and Afgahnistan. We found it common in Nepal that men would often spend many years out of country, generally in the Gulf states, a sad state of affairs for family life.

GB's niece

Penny has described her medical experiences in Sotang in a somewhat understated manner. Quite what you do when you have a 45year old mother of five, one of who was born 30 minutes ago in the toilet, with a placenta refusing to come out in an ill-equipped medical clinic in the middle of nowhere is hard to imagine. Penny attempted a manual retrieval, all the while having to explain this to and educate the local midwifes and healthcare workers. Unfortunately this wasn't possible and there was no other option than the family carrying her 12 hours to the nearest airport and hoping for a flight to Kathmandu. There were helicopters constantly overhead ferrying tourists to and from the Everest region at a cost the locals, even in life threatening situations, couldn't comprehend. Sam and I were much less constructively engaged, mooching around, eating the town out of samosas and watching BBC at the fanciest guesthouse in town. We did get away for one little walk which ended up with crashing in a monastery and befriending a trainee monk. The locals seemed to like us, they were perhaps a little over-grateful showering even the moochers with flowers, coloured rice and the like when we eventually left. Here's an amusing team photo.

Fresh from a tikka ceremony

But leave we did, and some walking we had to do, from Sotang in the foothills to Lukla, Namche Bazaar and on to the Three Passes trip in the valleys around Everest. The picture below shows our route as far as Namche.


Sotang to Namche Bazaar

It was sad to leave Sotang, and especially GB, who came with us for half a day to guide us on the small trails across the giant valley of the Hinku Khola. We are talking big hills around here, 1500 metres roughly from river to ridge top. It was only one long day from Sotang to where we hit the Everest trail at Kharikhola.


Sam crosses the Hinku khola to the delights of the Everest trail

We were back on the main path, in the land of copious guesthouses, porters and expensive cokes. But there was still some walking to be done. It is a grind from Kharikhola up to Lukla and we ground it out, stepping aside occasionally to give way to mules, yaks and the occasional Everest trail runner. We actually avoided Lukla taking the low route and saving the Starbucks for the way back through. Briefly we were caught in a mad rush of tourists but largely it was a pretty quiet stroll up to Namche, with the odd pretty mountain or swingbridge or chorten or mani wall or yak or stream catching the eye. Next Everest blog - Pass 1: The Kongma La.

Penny trail wandering

Korokoro

2012-01-09T01:48:00.000-08:00

I finally got out to my favourite run in Wellington - Belmont Trig via the Korokoro gorge. As soon as you head up the gorge from Petone the bush closes in and you feel miles away from the world. The track is just such a nice track to run on, the first few km's is flat by Wellington standards. Up towards Baked beans bend there are a few river crossings which I just crashed through today. The river was too high to think about staying dry. The hill as ever was a good challenge, 456metres above where I started at sea-level, and then back down along the farm track and slippery tawa groves. At the end to avoid going back to the Korokoro rail crossing I waded down the stream under the motorway, a fun little end to the run.

Near the start of the run, on the western side of the motorway near the Korokoro hill I came across the grave, or at least memorial for, for this man. It was in a lonely corner of a reshaped park. Wi Tako was a Maori leader during the pakeha colonisation of Wellington, who at least partly began the forging of the dominant Love family in the Wellington region, here is the whakapapa from the famous pacifist Te Whiti o Rongomai to contemporary leader Sir Ngatata Love, complete with the odd whaler thrown in.

Phewa lake - Boating in Nepal

2012-01-08T13:02:00.000-08:00

I never thought I would have a tea-bagger for a brother;-)

An update

2012-01-07T23:44:00.000-08:00

I have finally completed the blog from our family trip to the Lower Mustang

This was definitely one of the highlights of our entire trip, an arid landscape stuck between the himalaya and the Tibetan plateau, which has been a thoroughfare since ancient times.

Now I will be able to start chucking up some more photos from our Nepal trip - we did actually see some pretty nice mountains.

Ngaruhoe jog

2012-01-03T23:57:00.001-08:00

The O-Gang and friends went for a jog up Ngaruhoe and Tongariro the other day after a couple of days cooped up by rain. Crazy cool place which just seems to get smaller the older I get. The highlight was definitely the fast descent of Tongariro's west ridge.
On the left - team photo, on the right - Lizzie, Penny and Imogene jog towards the summit of Tongariro.

Tokomaru Mission

2011-12-27T18:27:00.000-08:00

There are few things I love more than an exploratory adventure run with friends in the middle of summer, especially when unusually it only takes just over a few hours and everyone comes out warm and happy. We had an absolute pearler yesterday, which included part of the Te Araroa trail and the Tokomaru gorge.

A good gang of eleven of us started from Gordon Kear forest, where many of us have been orienteering for years and ran south along the new route. The route follows gravel roads and four wheel drive tracks until close to the high point where it veers into the bush. The bush track is fun, cruising along the ridge for a bit until dropping quickly into the river, great terrain running if you are confident enough with your feet.

Once we hit the river we just followed our noses, down through big pools, narrow canyons, good running on dry stones. There are lots of deer tracks in here and some amazing native forest; nikaus, ratas and totara were a few that I noticed. And right on time we turned a corner and found Horseshoe bend picnic area where we had left some cars. Special kudos as well to Mrs Flynn who had arrived with some cold beers, next time though she will be out running.

Back home

2011-12-23T16:39:00.001-08:00

A quick Christmas message and update.

Firstly, I hope everyone that keeps an eye on this blog has a really great Christmas with family and friends. Chill out for a while, forget about the stuff you have to do and drink some good beer.

Penny and I have been back for a few weeks now in Aotearoa. The photo is from my folks deck in Arthurs Pass. We are furiously house hunting in Wellington but have plenty of awesome friends to stay with while we wait for the right place to pop up.

Penny is working Christmas, but I will fly back up from Chch to pick her up when she knocks off around 2300!
Never mind we have some holidays around Ohakune and Wanaka to look forward to this summer...

Hopefully I will get my mojo up to sort some photos out from Everest. Five months of travel makes for an intimidating photo collection! And get a blog up sometime soon.

Take care aye

Jamie

Lamajura La

2011-12-23T16:31:00.001-08:00

I just had to share this. Penny, Sam and GB staunching it up at the last guesthouse on the Lamajura La. We were walking into Everest from Jiri, most people were walking out as planes couldn't fly for over a week.

Back from the boohai

2011-12-01T20:50:00.000-08:00

Back in Kathmandu- the sweet sounds of dogs barking, horns beeping and people hoiking onto the street. It is our last day here in Nepal after 3 months working and walking our way around the country.

We have spent the last month in the Solukumbu region, well known for being home to the highest mountain in the world. Jamie, Sam, GB and I caught a rickety bus to Shivalaya and started our walk in from there. One of the things about Nepal is that you can count the number of roads in the country on your hands, making access in to most places quite difficult (and out of them even harder).

My work started a little earlier than planned, on the walk in to the villages where we were to start work. Jamie spotted a man lying under some blankets at a tea house we had stopped in (I had actually just thought it was a pile of blankets). He was a young police officer who had been in the police hospital for a month, and despite the fact that he was obviously on deaths door with weight loss and fevers, the doctors decided that because they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him, he was suitable to be sent back to work. We recruited a few robust cops to carry him back to the nearest road end (as he was too weak to walk) and I suggested he try visiting a different hospital this time.

The first village we spent some time at was Deusa, a beautiful little village perched on a hill covered in rice and millet fields. The rather run down clinic was run by Dev Kumari and Kumala, who did a wonderful job of treating and entertaining their patients (I gathered it must of been one of the afternoons activities to come to the healthpost to gossip- actually in the room with whichever patient was being seen at the time!). Almost all the children had skin infections and I soon figured out why when I realised that the nearest tap was a 15 minute walk out of the village.

There's a baby in that basket (left) and GB's home in Sotang (right)

Our next stop was Sotang, the home of our friend GB (Gyan Bahadur Katuwal). He had convinced us to come and visit his village and do some training with the 8 nurse midwives and health assistant there. His family kindly had us to stay at their cosy home, where we were fed copious amounts of delicious dal baat, and entertained by his 2 year old niece. Sotang has recently had the addition of a new health post, with small inpatient unit, outpatient area, and a delivery unit (unfortunately still no running water). The health assistant Shreedoj Rai is very experienced and was previously employed by the Hillary Trust. My job there was to do training with the healthcare workers there on women and childrens' health.

Nurse midwives at Sotang practicing newborn resuscitation on a rather scary-looking plastic doll

The training went well, as the nurse midwives were intelligent and keen to learn heaps. I also managed to put myself in the firing line for questions about womens health with a mothers group run by a local teacher. Some of the questions were straightfoward, but others were a bit more curly : "I had my uterus removed with a dead baby inside, and then the doctor left a gauze swab inside, which I later had removed, but now I have ongoing abdominal pain- how do I cure that doctor?"

We also had a chance for some practical training, which came in the form of a rather stressful experience. A woman in her 40s came in, abruptly delivered a baby (in the rather revolting delivery room toilet), but failed to deliver the placenta and slowly started bleeding away. In NZ, this would mean a quick trip to the operating theatre and maybe a blood transfusion, but in Nepal these things are literally hundreds of kilometres away. We managed to slow the bleeding with the resources we had available, and 20 hours later when it got light again, her family started off with her on their shoulders for a 12 hour walk to the nearest 'hospital' where they at least had a lab where they could possibly give her a blood transfusion. We raised enough money for her to fly from this 'hospital' to Kathmandu for definitive treatment, but I haven't yet heard whether she survived the journey.

After our time in Sotang, we headed off for Everest, for a last blast in the mountains before our return home... but I'll leave that to Jamie to write about.Here's a few photos though.

Off again

2011-11-03T17:36:00.001-07:00

Ok, well I didn't quite manage to get that last blog finished, or hardly even started, and we are off again.

Just Sam, Penny and me now, bussing to Jiri today (as the weather isn't letting anyone fly to Lukla ). We will spend the first couple of weeks in Deusa and Sprang, isolated villages in the Solu Khumbu, before trekking in the Everest region for a bit. We plan to do the three pass trip: Kongma la, Cho la and Renjo la.

For a better blog, with lots of photos of our travels check out www.stew.geek.nz

Take care

Jamie

Stewart Family Holiday: Lower Mustang

2011-10-28T08:24:00.000-07:00

We are now back in Pokhara living the good life of cheap momos and chilli chicken.The last two weeks or so has been a great adventure, so much has happened that I really don't know how to begin with this blog, so I will just select the best photos I have and try to piece together some narrative as I go..
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We set out from Pokhara to explore the wilds of the Annapurna region, one of the most popular trekking routes in the world. What made this area famous was the Annapurna Circuit, a 20 odd day mission circumnavigating the entire Annapurna massif. However new roads, particularly that up the Kali Gandaki river in the western part have changed the dynamics of tourism in the area, perhaps as some say spoiling the classic trek, but also opening up new opportunities that we aimed to make the most of. We headed straight for the dry lands of Mustang, in the rain shadow of the Annapurnas where the hills are big and brown and the people use spring water to create green oases of crops and fruit trees amongst the eroded hills.

A creative route choice saw a family ford of the Kali Gandaki

Mum was starting to stride out up the braided river bed

We caught the bus from Pokhara to Jomsom, with a one night stop over in Ghasa. Not quite as easy as it sounds as this road as well as being controversial is just a little dodgy. Jomsom is a great little hub with an airport, fresh apples and plenty of places to spend money. We got out of there quickly heading upriver to the amazing old fortified village of Kagbeni on the border of the Upper Mustang restricted area.

The Kagbeni monastery with rock strata behind

The Orchards of Kagbeni and towards Muktinath

It was amazing to stand in, on and around this fort admiring the light on the rooftops, the crazy strata in the rocks and thinking of the times not so long ago when maurauding Kham pa's hunted and haunted this isolated place.


Nilgiri rose snow capped above layers of brown hills to the south.

The next day we rather ambitiously headed cross-country towards our destination of Jhong, an ancient village at the head of the valley. The more famous stop-over in these parts is the pilgrimage mecca of Muktinath, but we were trying to avoid the crowds. It proved an inspired, if not slightly hot and dry choice. We saw some amazing landscapes with autumn colours as we climbed up the valley.

Troglodytes once lived here

Autumn colours - Little monastery on hill

Approaching the walled village of Putak

The Stewart family in Putak

Our destination for the day Jhong threw us up a great little surprise of a guesthouse located between a monastery and an abandoned fort. And in the midst of this very authentic, relic(?), village, we were served the most delicious spring rolls.

View from guesthouse - with mountain we later climbed

View back down to Jhong after evening stroll - looking as much as it has for the last thousand years

The next day, Penny, Sam and I were let loose on an extension adventure, climbing the rocky knob that towers behind Jhong. This hill tops out at about 5300, a big effort for Sam with minimal acclimatisation. We left before the crack of dawn, catching an amazing sunrise and moon set. Dhaulagiri just floated, as it does, down valley and when we gained the ridge the view into the mysterious land of Mustang was just awesome. The day was so clear we could see right over Mustang and into Tibet, strange lonely snowy mountains crept onto the horizon in some far off land beyond our comprehension.

Dhaulagiri on right above gap of the Kali Gandaki

First light hits Jharkot - Jhong in foreground

Mustang!

Nearly time to go down

We also saw a flock of blue sheep, the first since Kanchenjanga, they were still there when we went down and we watched then scuttling around the steep terrain. They always stay close to cliffs so they can escape any snow leopard attacks. I can't really emphasise enough the beauty and photogenicness of this little area. There are so many things going on. Here are a few more photos to perhaps make the point.

A New Monastery near Muktinath

Kids play

Water boils

After the relaxing days in Jhong we gathered our energy for a wander over to the little village of Lubra several hours away in a smaller side creek of the Kali Gandaki. We had heard there was a new guesthouse there (the first in the village) which provided good digs and kai. Big landscapes is how I would sum up this day.

The Stewart family leaves Jhong

Lubra is near the orchard in the distance


Rock walls that make you feel tiny.

The village was fantastic. It was harvest time and it smelt like rain. The "Super-organism" of the Tibetan village was burning energy. All around the landscape there were massive bundles of grass moving around, supported by little bandy legs. Ladybirds is not perhaps the right analogy, but you can probably understand where I am coming from.

Lubra

Harvest transporters

Our hosts for the night

From Lubra, we headed back into the main valley of the Kali Gandaki, but stayed on the true left to avoid the metropolis of Jomsom. The track down the bank was interesting, up and over little ridges with great views of Nilgiri and its forested slopes. We even arrived in Marpha in time to watch the World Cup semi-final at a bus stop - but one that sold apple cider and dried fruit...superb. If you go to Martha stay in the old town which is off the main road, we fell for one of the outer places and there wasn't quite the vibe. Marpha is one of the towns that has been hard done by by the road as many trekkers now end their trip in Jomsom, its well worth a nosy though. I had big ambitions to get to 6000metres by heading up Dhamphus peak on our rest day but neither my fitness or the weather were conducive to action. The 6000 metre threshold will have to wait for another time.

Heading down river - Dhampus peak at centre

Watching the rugger

Me, Gem and Sam in Marpha

I guess Marpha was the end of our arid adventure, after that we headed off downriver on a bus then into the Annapurna base camp. I will cover that in another post. This trip described is highly recommended for those looking to see some amazing sights, avoid the crowds and not do too much hard walking.

Heading to ABC

2011-10-21T21:27:00.001-07:00

This view is towards Chromrong where we stayed last night. It was a fantastic guest house with perfect views of the Annapurnas.

With everyone going so well we have decided to attempt Annapurna Basecamp which will take us maybe 5 days.

Gemma has left us, taking the bus back yesterday from Naya Pul, back to teaching in just a few days time.

Take care.

Jamie

Marpha Stewarts

2011-10-16T22:07:00.001-07:00

Marpha-lous

2011-10-16T21:56:00.001-07:00

We are in Marpha in the Kali Gandaki valley having a rest day. Marpha is the beautiful apple capital of Nepal and we are enjoying the pies, crumbles and frittatas.

We had a terrific trip up valley staying in the villages of Kagbeni, Jhong and Lubra. Penny, Sam and I climbed to a 5200m viewpoint overlooking the Upper Mustang and Tibet.

Yesterday we hurried down valley under the shadow of Nilgiri pk to watch the All Blacks win their semi-final at the local bus station. It seemed fitting to replace chips and beer with dried apple and locally pressed juice.

Tomorrow we head downriver by bus as far as Tatopani where we will head up Poon hill for a look around Ghandruk and perhaps the Annapurna sanctuary.

Stewart Family Holiday: Part 1

2011-10-09T09:29:00.000-07:00

Mum always used to say that if we won Lotto we would go trekking in Nepal, well here we are! Not quite trekking yet but it has been pretty much a week since Penny and I met the rest of the Stewart family in Kathmandu airport...

As this is Mum and Dads' first trip outside of New Zealand I was really looking forward to their first impressions. I was not disappointed seeing their dawning comprehension of the reality of Kathmandu on the short trip to the old town of Bhaktapur where we had booked to stay for the first few nights.

We chose Bhaktapur because it was supposed to be quiet and clean, but we hadn't counted on the Hindu festival of Dashain, which brings Nepal to a standstill as the victory of good (the gods) over evil (demons in the form of water buffalos) is celebrated. Everyone returns home to their villages, including Bhaktapur, and gives copious offerings to the gods often in the form of animal sacrifices. My brother Sam has posted some photos, but here is another one...instead of headless goats or ducks I give you a fair dinkum tractor worshipping photo, I have always named my cars and changed the old filter, but this is how you really appreciate an engine...

The old city of Bhaktapur really does justify its World Heritage listing, there are many amazing buildings most dating from the heyday of the city around 1700, but many from much earlier, we enjoyed many strolls through the various squares, shopping for handicrafts down the narrow lanes and plenty of teas in the cafes that oversee everything.

Some of the iconography is quite amusing, I like to think these carvers as well as been very religious also had a sense of humour.

We had one little outing from Bhaktapur, up the hill to Narakot which apparently has an amazing view of the himalayas on a good day...this wasn't one regrettably. We saw only a slither of the Langtang and perhaps the triangular face of Gaurasankar. However we did get to stretch our legs down the long ridge to Changu Narayan, via the local pie shops...

For a spot of luxury and some jungle we headed down to Chitwan National Park for a few day, staying at the super nice Sapana Village Lodge. We got out there into the jungle both on foot and by elephant, but by far the highlight was the elephant washing. Dad in particular really bonded with his elephant, they connected deeply, down even to the facial expressions...

We saw a bit of wildlife; the two types of crocodile, a couple of species of deer, some monkeys and plenty of cool birds, but for me the highlight has to be the elephants we were riding, what awesome creatures, riding one across a deep fast flowing river it seemed like they were built from stone, not flesh. Their big round footprints softly but heavily stamp a track perfectly flat, and from the foot up the animal is just so damn big and solid and heavy and old. So so cool.

Today we journeyed up from the heat of Chitwan to Pokhara, the gateway for the Annapurna. We will stay here for a couple of days getting permits etc (and shopping) before heading up by local bus and jeep hopefully as far as Muktinath (making the most of the new road) before slowly drifting back down. But yeah, what an experience, it is so amazing to have Mum, Dad, Gemma, and Sam here as well and be sharing it with them. Awesome.

Escaping Kanchenjunga

2011-10-07T21:36:00.001-07:00

This title is perhaps too dramatic, after all we were enconsed rather than imprisoned in the potato field village of Ghunsa. We had also heard that parties had successfully descended the Ghunsa Khola as far as Lelep. Rob and Claire, the kiwis we met in Foley, had passed that way but not without witnessing a significant rockfall in the gorge. Rob was even hit by a rock ricocheting from the other side of the river. So we knew it was doable, but the thought of retracing our steps back over all those slips and under those cliffs just wasn't appealing so we decided on the high route to the east over the five thousand meter Mirgin La with a chance to visit the south Kanchenjunga base camp should the weather be more amenable. Five days perhaps we figured back to the road end at Taplejung.

Rob and Claire and us - a meeting of kiwis in Foley

Day 1: Mirgin La

After final farewells at Ghunsa we wandered south down the mainstreet, passing the school and health post, and then the hydro scheme before climbing sharply into the mist towards the Selele La. The mist cleared briefly for us at one stage so we could look down on Foley, the rectangular shapes of the buildings creating some order amongst the chaos of the old boulder field in which it is situated.We could also briefly look back and see the small peak GB and I had climbed a few days ago

Selele La is a gap on the ridge rather than a true pass and we reached here without too much trouble. After this the weather gradually deteriorated until just before Mirgin La it began snowing. Our worlds were circumscribed first by the rims of our umbrellas, second by the drifting mist. Outside this bubble we heard rockfall, felt thunder vibrating and saw brief glimpses of mountain sides and lakes.

Right on the Mirgin La we met a fellow traveller, a Spainard, coming the other way with his guide. A quick yarn in the middle of nowhere with a kindred spirit. On the other side of the pass it got colder and windier, we weren't equipped for this, and we kept pressing on, stressed by the cold and wet, until we found shelter beside a small tarn just above Tseram. When it rains we must rely on our memories as the camera is to precious to risk.

Day 2: Kanchenjunga South

Incredibly the day dawned clear and we were off, outta here like bald men towards the glistening peaks. The trail climbs to the left of a vast lateral moraine up the valley, a chossy gravelly snake. We walk on grassy basins past picturesque lakes and the seasonal yak herding settlements of Lapsang and Ramche. Always above us the mountains grow, the triangular profile of Rathong we skirt to the left exposing its summit ridge and the bishop shaped pinnacle near its summit.

Gradually Kanchenjunga comes into view, including most of its seven summits. To its west though I am taken by a huge ampitheatre of fluted peaks, none of them named. Scrambling past Oktang we crane our necks for a view of Jannu but see only its massive shoulder. Below us here the moraine wall drops sheer to the cratered glacier. What a spot!

We retreat reluctantly, chocka with beauty, chinese biscuits and the apples GB carried from Gyabla to treat us with. I was a little ahead of the others when I was first surprised by the "Humph", a quick outburst of air by something large. I crouched and it happened again, the big herd of blue sheep was just 50metres down valley, watching me. Several sheep sported the huge curving horns they are famous for and which can weigh 20kg each. We watched and followed them for ten minutes, so fantastic to see them holding on here, providing prey for the solitary snow leopards.

Blue Sheep

2011-10-05T09:19:00.000-07:00

Ok, well we did see blue sheep, both on the side trip towards Nango La, and (heaps) up around Oktang on the way to Kanchanjunga South basecamp.

The key question though is who is the most likely blue sheep. Jamie or Khe Sahn the smiley yak herding prodigy from Kambachen? I'm not sure about the spelling of Khe Sahn's name, I suspect it isn't really like the Cold Chisel song but thats how I remembered it.

Potato Field Medicine

2011-10-05T07:28:00.000-07:00

Potato-field medicine: 3 year old boy with likely fractured tibia 4 days after earthquake.

Lamu the midwife learning how to take blood pressures.

Health training in Ghunsa

2011-10-03T18:36:00.001-07:00

Despite obvious shaky distractions, we still managed to squeeze in some training with Tenzing (the healthcare worker in Ghunsa), and Lamu (the midwife). Main things we discussed were antenatal care, identifying high risk pregnancies, post-partum management and children's health. There are various issues specific to Ghunsa, for example iodine deficiency, general nutritional deficiencies, and a high rate of anaemia, which is compounded by the fact that Ghunsa is at 3500m and there is a little less oxygen floating around. The main problem however is lack of access to hospital care- it is at least a 3 day walk out to the nearest road end, and a very understaffed and under-resourced hospital is found there. Hence the focus on preventive healthcare and identifying in advance which women need to deliver in hospital. At the end of last year a woman died after giving birth due to heavy bleeding, and her baby subsequently starved to death over the next 6 months. We discussed how each of these circumstances could be prevented were such a thing to happen again. Tenzing has recently completed 2 months of dental training, so we also took the opportunity to do some teaching with the kids about dental hygiene (which is pretty appalling in these parts).

The Children of Foley

2011-10-02T20:31:00.000-07:00

Some fresh photos of the children of Foley, as fundraising begins for the rebuilding of the preschool, school and health post destroyed in the 2011 Himalayan Earthquake.

Foley is a poor Tibetan refugee community ihttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifn north eastern Nepal settled following the Chinese invasion of Tibet in the 1950's. It maintains trade routes to Tibet via Olangchungola and gets limited support from the Tibetan government in exile in Dharamsala. For the last twenty years it has been assisted in educating its children by the Kanchanjunga School Project.

The "Sikkim" Earthquake

2011-10-02T03:56:00.000-07:00

Just reading about the earthquake we just escaped. The 2011 "Sikkim" Earthquake was actually centred in Eastern Nepal, right on our tent flaps, as our friend Lara observed. Here is a map from the USGS...

And here is a description of the geology of the quake from Wikipedia:

The magnitude 6.9 (Mw) earthquake occurred inland at 18:10 IST on 18 September 2011, about 68 km (42 mi) northwest of Gangtok, Sikkim at a shallow depth of 19.7 km (12.2 mi).[3] At its location, the continental Indian and Eurasian Plates converge with one another along a tectonic boundary beneath the mountainous region of northeast India near the Nepalese border. Although earthquakes in this region are usually interplate in nature, preliminary data suggests the Sikkim earthquake was triggered by shallow strike-slip faulting from an intraplate source within the over-riding Eurasian Plate. Initial analyses also indicate a complex origin, with the perceived tremor likely being a result of two separate events occurring close together in time at similar focal depths.[1] Located at a shallow depth beneath the surface, the earhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifthquake caused strong shaking in many areas adjacent to its epicenter reportedly lasting 30–40 seconds.[10][non-primary source needed] The strongest shaking occurred to the west in Gangtok and further south in Siliguri, although similar ground motions registering at MM VI (strong) on the Mercalli scale were recorded in many smaller towns such as Mangan across elevated regions. Lighter tremors (MM IV–III) spread southward through populous regions, with these motions reported in the Patna capital of Bihar and as far southwest as Bihar Sharif.[2] In all, the earthquake was felt in Nepal, India, Bhutan, Bangladesh and China. Tremors were felt in Assam, Meghalaya, Tripura, parts of West Bengal, Bihar, Jharkhand, Uttar Pradesh, Rajasthan, Chandigarh and Delhi states of India.[11] In Tibet, the earthquake was felt in Shigatse and Lhasa.[12]

Here is a good blog detailing the earthquake from the Sikkim (Indian)perspective with some great pictures

From the Nepali side what is most remarkable is the fortune of the mountain communities in what was a very strong shake. Firstly the quake occurred at 6.10pm when nearly everyone was inside preparing dinner. Secondly the houses are largely built of timber (and virgin rainforest timber at that). They also have a rectangular interlocking design which seems very earthquake proof. In the limited places where this design was not followed or these materials were not available there was serious damage. It is also clear that the communities have a recognition of the dangers of rockfalls (and presumably avalanches) and older villages are sited in safe places (this may not be the case for newer houses, eg those developed as trekking tea houses).

A wooden house split open in Ghunsa, perhaps not quite adhering to the traditional design concepts?

Kambachen, well above the tree line and largely built of stone...devastated...

Amjilosa, a house built for teahouse trekking, unsafe below a vast weedy slope, the consequences of slash and burn agriculture

The long term consequences of the quake for the people of the district around Ghunsa is that they will have to live with ongoing objective danger along their main connection with civilisation the Ghunsa khola (river). Rockfall is a real danger at hundreds of places between Lelep and Lhonak with especially dangerous slips immediately below each of Lhonak, Kambachen, Ghunsa, Foley and Gyabla. It is likely more use will be made of the yak route between Gyabla and Olangchungola and of the eastern route over Mirgin La which is largely free of earthquake damage. Despite this the danger of future casualties in the valley from rockfall are very high.

A few examples of earthquake damage in the Ghunsa Khola:

One fine day - One good photo

2011-10-02T01:56:00.001-07:00

Penny, Jamie and Mt Kanchenjunga -The 3rd highest mountain in the world.

Photos of Foley School/Health Clinic

2011-10-02T01:25:00.000-07:00

Some photos for Rob and Cherie of the Kanchanjunga School Project. All three buildings have been munted (Christchurch term). We are safely back in Kathmandu after 28hours on the bus from Taplejung, it reminded me of an old expression of my good friend Brent "never shake a Jamie". I feel like I have just come out of a washing machine...though I still really stink.

Ghunsa

2011-09-29T21:46:00.001-07:00

So we had arrived in Ghunsa, somewhat shaken and nerves a little frayed. As we inspected the school and health post buildings (which had come through ok) we heard and saw across the valley another massive rock fall above the Foley to Ghunsa track. Hurtling boulders, trees snapped like matchsticks, ringing silence. Ghunsa largely avoided too much earthquake damage, some non structural stone walls fell down as did a couple of wooden houses that strayed from the time honoured rectangular design.

Ghunsa with waterfalls behind

Minor damage to the health post - but building badly shaken up

Fresh slip and rockfall in progress!

In Ghunsa there was finally a working phone, though only for several hours a day (the problem with solar in the monsoon) and villagers from around the place were queueing to check on family in the wider district. We got a quick message through to the trekking agency which we hoped would be forwarded through our families to let them know we are ok. We debated whether the earthquake would have made the NZ news and decided that it was unlikely during the excitement of the Rugby World Cup.

Not sure what Penny was thinking aboutt

Penny then proceeded to get stuck into teaching the healthcare worker Tenzin and midwife Lamu some new skills.Tenzin had previously learnt how to put casts on fractures and we managed to put this to the test with a little boy we found in a potato field with a suspected broken foot. His mother had fallen on him during the earthquake, the only quake casualty we found, although we were told there were at least 20 yak deaths up the valley.
Penny might write about the rest of her teaching sometime, but from what I gathered it was focused on the childbirth and early childhood areas. She found a willing audience as a village women had died of complications during the past year (this after the previous KSP team were assured this never happened ). The baby survived 6 months feed largely on chang.

Potato Field Medicine

Tenzin and family at the cooking fire

While Penny was teaching GB and I amused ourselves with a couple of daytrips. The first was to Dudh Pokhari (a lake) east of Ghunsa. An easy trail (hang a left where the water race drops into the hydro scheme pipe) leads up valley following old lateral moraines for about 3 hours to the lower of the lakes shown on the map. As it was misty the highlight was probably the tea stop in the Yak herders hut. Like many in the valley this family lived a simple life but were doing ok for themselves. They made cheese and yak butter to sell in Taplejung and had sufficent money to educate their children. Two of their sons were trainee monks down in Dharamsala. We found plenty of other people who had studied in Kathmandu or India.

Dudh Pokhari

The second day trip was more ambitious, an attempt to shortcut west to the Nango La, the pass between Foley and Olangchungola. We left early and headed up to a lookout point decorated with prayer flags. It was a clearish morning and we could even see some parts of mountains (in these mists lie 7000 metre monsters). We kept on following our noses upwards past a couple of pretty lakes. At this stage I took my eye off the ball a little and climbed a small peak (5267) which only served to freak GB out and prevent further exploration of more likely routes. This chunk of mountain is definitely worth a look and is free of rockfall. The views on a clear day would be amazing, unfortunately for us they quickly deteriorated into thick mist. Other highlights though before I forget were the musk deer, blue sheep and various quail like birds, pretty cool to see some wildlife.

Himalayan Herbfields

Towards the end of our stay in Ghunsa we thought we would head up valley to possibly reach the north base camp for Kanchenjunga (the 3rd highest mountain in the world). Penny was able to come too as Tenzin was intending to be out of town for a couple of days. In the event we only got as far as Kambachen, half a day up valley, before we heard that a missing bridge was going to prevent us going much further. The trail to Kambachen was easy apart from a very nasty slip on the true right opposite the terminal moraine of the Jannu glacier. This slip which starts 1000 meters or so up comes down in three chutes, a triple barrelled shotgun. Kambachen itself has been devastated by the earthquake, of twenty dwellings there was only one I would have slept in.

Sign pointing to broken bridge

Don't build your house in a yak field

We stayed in Kambachen for an afternoon and morning hoping to get a glimpse of the "Wall of Shadows", the famous north face of Jannu which rises another few thousand metres up behind the bitter chilly mists of Kambachen. No luck there but our stay wasn't all bad, we had good company including the yak herders son back from study in Bangalore for the Desai festival and most surprisingly great food. The Dahl Baaht was embellished by yak curd (yoghurt) and a water cress like vegetable, yummy, while the milk tea was the hottest sweetest creamiest concoction you could imagine ... like it had just been churned by a practised yak herder in a small hut high in the Himalayas!

Making butter

Khe Sahn with Blue Sheep horns

GB eyes up the bad slip

So that's about that, tune in next time for the return journey. Penny, GB and Jamie traverse the Mirgin La in sleet, have a clear day at Kanchenjunga South base camp and make it safely back to Taplejung (hopefully).

Taplejung to Ghunsa: Shaky journey

2011-09-28T20:21:00.001-07:00

Hello again, it has been a while. I am posting this from the vicinity of Mamankhe where Penny and I are slowly emerging from the wilds of Eastern Nepal. We are still two days solid walk from Taplejung but can already taste the samosas and momos, and feel the hard seats on the bones of our buttocks as once there we have over 24 hours of bussing to meet the Stewart family in Nepal. Our journey has been a memorable one, not as delightful as some, but yeah memorable. This is the first installment, how we got there as it were...thanks for the messages about the earthquake, as you can read below we were a little lucky.

Mamankhe - Still some earthquake damage

As previously blogged we arrived in Taplejung, feeling quite fortuitous, sometime before noon one day. Taplejung is a big town, the district centre of a largely remote mountainous area, its narrow streets hum with desperate commerce. We ate momos in a tidy restaurant enjoying the surprise wifi.
Penny has been acquainting herself with the Nepali health system: a quick tour of Patan hospital, a weeks work in Ilam and now a glance at Taplejung. The busy doctor was running the whole hospital by himself, 30 beds and a throng of out patients. Penny had to be physically restrained from flinging herself into the fray!

Taplejung hospital

The Limbu trail starts from Taplejung and contours well above the Tamur valley floor (the other and quicker way up valley). The idea of the Limbu trail is to showcase the local Limbu culture which seems to consist of harvesting cardamon and drinking Tongba. The former is a lucrative cash crop which now dominates the understory of the forests, the latter is the local tipple which seems to dominate the lives of many of the locals.

Penny couldn't resist a tipple

The Limbu trail has been developed by central government, and does not seem strongly supported locally. A bulldozer has hacked a wide mud path along much of this western stretch which crosses several side valleys. At one point there is a very pleasant Hindu temple. After an afternoons walk we found a bed in Limkin, guesthouses have yet to develop along this part of the trail so you must appeal to the sympathy or commercial instinct of villagers. It was an interesting evening chatting to a local teacher finished off by watching English music videos and discussing the Nepali caste system! TV is the no1 investment in these communities wherever there is electricity.


Inquisitive kids

Penny and GB Striding Out

Our Limbu hosts - the ladies with traditional jewelry

Our guide GB is proving to be a great guy. We don't usually hire guides but when going to a restricted area in Nepal it is a condition of getting an entry permit. GB has been to Kanchenjunga many times before and is familiar with the project we are helping out with. He also provides us insights into the local culture we would not get otherwise. GB is powered by dahl baaht (lentil soup and rice) twice a day. When he gets this he seems nigh on unbreakable.

From Limkin we had a 6 hour walk to Lelep. We first descended to the main river at the hamlet of Tawa and continued up the true left under an archway proclaiming the boundary of Kanchanjunga Conservation Area. The Tamur river fills the valley floor and we sidled on a rough track to the rough town of Chirwa. Chirwa exists in the bowels of a giant boulder field, most of its wooden shanties incorporate a cave or overhang into their traditional rectangular design. The people here have a reputation for harassing tourists, particularly those that camp at the lovely spot past the northern edge of town. The requesting of "donations" (generally by groups of drunken men) is another Maoist strategy local thugs have adopted for their own ends. At breakfast time things were pretty quiet though and we managed to escape with our noodle soup.

Young girl in Chirwa

From Chirwa it is a short walk to the settlement of Tapethok where the valley widens a little, here you cross to the river right and continue afresh on a new stone path made by the central government all the way to Lelep. Cardamon is everywhere through here and we pass a fly camp of some harvesters. Cardamon is not a spice actually used by the locals in their cooking and one asks us if it is actually true that this spice is used in bullets. This local myth has developed because when the pods are drying in the sun they sometimes start exploding. We suggest this hypothesis is probably false.

Lelep is located at a top of a steep rise overlooking the lower valley and two tributarys to the north. The western tributary leads to the famous trading town of Wolangchangola the eastern one to our destination of Ghunsa. Entering Lelep you walk straight into the paved courtyard of the guesthouse and shop, a well constructed monopoly. Lelep is the first village on our route where the Kanchenjunga school project has helped out over the years so we set about checking this out and meeting a few of the local characters.

Kunji Lal, a head wobbling Nepali from far afield is the paramount medic in these parts, overseeing the District Health Post. He works hard but quite possibly makes a bit on the side by selling medicines. Kunji is responsible for everything from vaccinations to contraceptives to blood pressure pills for a cluster of remote villages. On the day we visit Kunji he has spent the night at a difficult birth back down in Tapethok. Like many Nepalis Kunji lives away from his spouse, the demands of work and wider families seem to supersede the nuclear family in Nepal. The same applies to Mahendra, a Brahmin from the Terai who is 2ic of the local high school. He invites us for tea and asks us to pass on a request for solar panels to the Kanchenjunga School Project. Mahendra offers us Chinese biscuits from the Tibet to Wolangchungola trade route. These biscuits sealed in green tins and vacumn packed were meant for the Chinese army but somehow found their way to the yak traders who cross the 6000 metre passes with these biscuits, chinese coke, cigarettes and imitation North Face outdoors gear.It is a great feeling sipping a cold coke that has been transported by yak across the largest mountain range on earth.

We visited the school with Mahendra and met the new woman teacher

We stayed in Lelep one night and the best part of a morning checking out various things at the health post, gompa, school and girls dormitory, before commiting ourselves to the track up the Ghunsa Khola (river). This sheer canyon is the main access to Ghunsa as well as the north faces of Mt Kanchenjunga and Jannu. It spits out into the Tamur just below Lelep. Down inside the canyon is a hellish place, the river froths unforgivingly, not giving a second thought to possible eddys. The track searches up and down for a gentle line never finding it. There are several swing bridges in the gorge, on one the remaining slippery planks angle at 20 degrees. At another place we climb on to a sharp spur where a family clings to existence through terraced plots of maize, at another again only wire baskets hold the track firm against the raging river.

The Ghunsa Khola

Pretty solid grade 5

At last we climb, perhaps five hundred meters above the river and hug a steep grassy slope which extends from river level to us and up another thousand metres to the ridge crest. Slash and burn agriculture has devestated much of this landscape. Looking back down the gorge, high on the far side above the cliffs of the lower Ghunsa Khola there are little homes, burnt trunks and yes fire. Man is an adaptable species.We reach the homely house of Amjilasa which seems a pleasant haven on dusk, but this won't last.

As we sit down to Dahl Baaht with the family in a cozy kitchen everything begins to shake, hard. The pots and mugs and Tongba barrels sway and squeak. Penny bolts and I follow, the earthquake registers 6.8 and kills hundreds of people in the Taplejung district and the neighbouring Indian province of Sikkim.

Outside the world is falling apart. The cliffs above us have collapsed and dust clouds are rising. The terrible sound of falling rock fills the air. The big boulders bounce like basketballs a deep dribbling. Sparks appear above us where boulders clash. The three of us cower behind a stone wall waiting for ...death, injury, the rush of boulders over our heads, I'm not sure. In the event they fall short or go wide. The biggest in our vicinity ploughed a furrow just past a small hut 50 meters up hill then gets tangled in the low vegetation 20 meters above us.

The big sounds stop and we hug each other, but there is still danger, stray rocks continue to come down and our minds switch quickly to the danger of aftershocks. We evacuate the house, built on bedrock but in a gully, and head 100meters around to the end of a spur where a small bank also gives shelter. We put our tent up and convince the family to join us. There is soon a tarpaulin tent constructed, and rugs and fire. The night spits with rain but the stars are never far away. The family seems interested in the danger of aftershocks for a start but as the chang (Millet beer) takes effect they stagger off to their beds in the house. We have a long sleepless night, the indignity of mosquitos taking advantage of us in our precarious state. The rocks continue falling but start to ease off about midnight. We sing "Amazing Grace" around the fire, our "geez we are having a really bad day" song. "Thro many dangers, toils and snares we have already come, twas grace that brought us safe this far and grace will lead us home".

A large rock recently at rest - our guesthouse behind

A new slip nearby

It is amazing how daylight can bring a degree of sanity to a situation. As the hillside gradually lit up we could see the extent of the landslide above us and the slips on the next section of trail. What we could see confirmed our desire to move on, Amjilasa will not be a safe place for a long time. We head towards Gyabla and the nearest phone. I won't say it was fun, the trail is good, except for the cracks, but it sidles through such steep terrain, tottering cliffs rise overhead and below the distant roar of the river. Often there were fresh slips to edge around or jump over. Finally, directly below Gyabla, the track up a steep gut had slipped and we were forced to squirm up the mud with the ever present danger of further slips from above.
Gyabla was in one piece, but the phone was down. At this stage we were imagining villages of squashed Nepalis but the traditional rectangular wooden houses with interlocking joints would prove to hold up well. There are advantages in constructing your homes out of virgin rainforest! We were to find that the majority of buildings damaged were those made of stone, particularly the schools and guesthouses.

Gyabla is on the yak trading route, a shortcut links it to Wolangchungola while upriver are the towns of Ghunsa and Foley. All the people in these parts are of Tibetan origin, either historically or refugees from the Chinese invasion in the 1950s. Many have adopted the last name "sherpa", a naturalised Nepali surname that gives rights distinct from the refugees. We had a good nights sleep in Gyabla digesting the days events and the burnt black lentils.

The Gyabla locals didn't seem too flustered

From Gyabla we continued up river aiming for the next phone in Ghunsa. The trail as far as Foley was relatively good except for one large slip just before the village that was several hundred meters long and unavoidable. Walking into Foley it was awesome to bump into a couple of kiwis, Rob and Claire, inspired like us by the kiwi history in the area: first the 1950s when Norman Hardie made the first ascent of Kanchenjunga and some subsequent explorations, second the 1970s when a group of Kiwis attempted to climb the sheer north face of Jannu, a story told in Graeme Dingles, "Wall of Shadows"

A couple of nasty little bits of slipped track

Rob and Claire were aborting their planned trip early, worried about rockfall and damage to bridges. We swapped gathered intelligence (collected rumours) about the earthquake, played the obligatory "do you know.." game to succesfully establish the one degree of separation in the kiwi outdoors community and generally had a good yarn while their porters ate their first dahl baaht of the day.

Kiwis

Walking into Foley it was sobering to see that the rumours of the destruction of the Foley school/health post / pre school which was built by the Kanchenjunga School Project (KSP) were true. The three room L shaped complex was devastated with the stone walls caved in and kids pictures left flapping in the breeze. We were so fortunate that the earthquake occurred when it did when the children were at home in their wooden houses.
I was reminded of the Kashmir quake several years ago which occured during school time and lost communities a generation. It was only luck that stopped eastern Nepal and the Sikkim suffering the same fate.

Peering into the classrooms

Lucky no one was in the loo

The villagers welcomed us with sweet milk tea and petitioned us to take the news of the collapse to the key figures in KSP. We gave an impromptu earthquake safety talk to the village in their carpet making shed and helped with the demolition and salvage of one of the school buildings. We emphasised the importantance of saving as much of the materials as possible to use in any rebuild. There was one new wooden building near the school that was paid for by the Tibetan government in exile so we asked about the rough cost and logistics of this. There are of course philosophical questions around using wood for construction in a protected conservation area ... something perhaps to be worked through later.

Earthquake education

We ended up staying the night in Foley as it had started to rain heavily, increasing the danger of the bad landslides in the short distance to Ghunsa. We stayed with a lady whose husband was further up the valley herding yaks. She was a very expressive person and was obviously opening her heart to GB about all sorts of village politics. She is one of the candidates for the vacant pre school teacher role (payed by KSP), as the previous teacher recently died of jaundice and alcohol. I love the basic design of the Tibetan sitting room/bedroom/kitchen which is arrayed around the low cooking fire with beds/couches around the walls. Kitchenware sits in shelves and spare spaces are filled with barrels of food. In the rafters,cheese, meat and butter are drying while woven pans contain onions, garlic and the like. A Tibetan chef is constantly ladling, various pots of boiling water and particularly the current pot of milky tea which can be served either sweet or salty. It is best when we can hover around the fire as the monsoon mists are proving more chilling than we expected.

The next morning we headed to Ghunsa along the wrecked Folay powerline which connects to the 3 year old Ghunsa hydro scheme. We passed the memorial to 26 people killed in a helicopter accident high in these misty mountains. They were all conservation leaders from Nepal and around the world who were touring the region to celebrate the change to local management of the Kanchenjunga Conservation Area. Their memorial in a grove of firs now echos to the sound of rockfall.

The main swingbridge to Ghunsa was just missed by a rock the size of a house. We cross it and enter the quiet town with its prayer flags and potato fields. Apart from the influence of tourism and more lately electricity Ghunsa still looks similar to the place that Joseph Hooker visited in the 19th century. Tourism has contributed competing guesthouses some with more modern color schemes, electricity has contributed sateillite dishes. You can now watch BBC in Ghunsa. We stroll up to the Selele La guest house run by Tenzin who doubles as the village medic payed by the KSP. Our primary purpose for all this suffering was to get here so Penny could provide some training to Tenzin and the local midwife Lamu, so for the meanwhile, journey complete I guess, high fives and handshakes allround. Now what to do ...

Somewhere above Phidim

2011-09-15T21:11:00.001-07:00

Quite a surreal day today. I am writing this from a Nepali bedroom plastered with Bollywood stars. I feel a little bad as Penny and I have displaced the households daughter and deaf sister from their cozy little room.

We arrived here well after dark after quite a journey. We woke early in Ilam only to find that there was a "strk" and all public transport was shut down for the day. I'm ok with legitimate industrial action, but this seems more about which criminal gang will control the roads in this part of Nepal, and take the biggest cut of various smuggling enterprises. Since the Maoists developed the strategy many Nepali groups use strikes to further there own interests.

We eventually found a driver willing to test the strike and headed out of Ilam with "tourist" number plates whipped up at the local computer shop. It was all good until the misty hilltop shanghai of Dewrali where we were stopped by a reasonably friendly crowd of men who nevertheless took our drivers keys. The ring leader was a drunk little fat guy in a stripy shirt, who paraded around all delighted like, a fun day out. Our driver and skinny guy his helper very carefully and diplomatically tried to get the keys back while we waited,trying to follow what was going on and watching the young men of the village gamble around a carom board where they play a game sort of like alleys but with flat disks that they slide across a floured wooden surface.

When stripy shirt and skinny guy drove off with the keys we decided to start walking. We had already heard the Nepali 2011 year of the tourist slogan, "Guest is God" changed slightly to "Guest is King" and weren't keen to hang around until they got drunker.

Wandering along we passed skinny guy heading back up the road with the key after about twenty minutes. We then passed through another illfavoured shanghai called something like "rakzi" which is the local moonshine. Soon after we were picked up by the van squeeling to a halt.

We thought this was the end of our troubles, and it certainly was until Phidim, 30km of fast tarseal through tortuous hills that would have taken an eternity to walk. However, when we reached Phidim we discovered the strike applied here to. Dammit. And we still didn't know how long the strike would last. The local jeep extortionists were asking more than 2 plane flights into where we were going so we ate then began walking again.

This was Pennys introduction to the scale of the Nepali landscape. Down down down to a tributary of the Tamur river then up, up, up towards the town of Gorpata. We tramped largely on local track, but was it hot and humid! Various locals walked with us for pieces, on the way home from school or work. And we walked well into dark trying to find a guesthouse until we stumbled across this hospitable house. The young man who has spent many years in Qatar lives here with his wife, children, sister and mother. They serve us dahl baht, which we eat with our right hands. They stare like we are aliens zapped into their living room. Nepalis are experts at eating with their hands, my rice seems to slip through my fingers. A great day which could have been a disaster.

Happy postscript: we have made it to Taplejung! From the friendly house we combed through rice paddies for 15 minutes to the road and 30 seconds later there was a jeep that has brought us through the vast foothills to this large bazaar town. The road was much improved from its reputation, just odd sections of mud. The landscape continues to amaze with the morning mist hanging in the valleys making the green ridges look like something from Avatar. After brunch we head off into the mist heading quickly beyond the reach of jeeps, then perhaps even beyond the reach of internet.

Take care out there.

Sandakphu

2011-09-13T20:35:00.000-07:00

I just got back from Sandakphu on the Nepali/Indian border. A great couple of days walking there and back, staying overnight on the top of the hill at about 3500 metres. Just photos for now, while I have access to a good computer in Ilam, writing will follow.

The mission started from Deurali, a one dog town, just 1km along the road from Mir Pokhari which we had visited earlier in the week. Just 1000 metres climb to this point!

From Deurali you hang the first right and head under the white banner. Follow the jeep track tending slightly downhill and follow this for around 10km to "Mamajewa". The landscape slowly gets more jungly, with some impressive swing bridges and curious locals.

From "Mamajewa" you have two options, the simple one which I took is to head straight up valley, check with the locals that you are still heading to Sandakphu. The track steepens and the valley narrows. The obvious track ends at a wooden bridge bedecked with Tibetan flags. I continued up the valley to the right and sheltered from the monsoon rains with this old couple who made me a big steaming mug of sweet milk tea. The other option is to head to Gurula...but beware for the locals to understand this you must pronounce it Guru LA (as in Los Angeles)

From where I took shelter in the head of the valley follow up the valley to the right. You will soon enter ancient rain forest with great mossy trees. As you climb you will be able to look back and see the rocky lower slopes of Sandakphu. Climb about 400m altitude and you will gain a ridge where there is a house and small clearing. Hang a left and follow up a well made stony road. You are now in full on fair dinkum rhododendron forest. Best visited in March.

If you follow up the road and tend left you will eventually hit the main ridge that leads down to Darjeeling in India (almost all tourists come from this side). Almost immediately here you will also see the small Tibetan village of Kali Pokhari, with its namesake lake, small lodges and neighbouring Indian border post. The top of Sandakphu and the multi-tiered Nepali hotel is all too visible from here, 700-800 vertical metres up into the sky to your left. The Indian jeep track is well made though and in places (like past this stupa) there are shortcuts for you to take. After a very solid 9 hours I arrived just on dusk.

The Nepali guesthouse is fantastic. Good people, good food, good prices...and then in the morning what a view. Even though the clouds obscured much of the Himalaya I saw the top of Makalu and giant shards of Kanchanjunga. The Indians have a military company stationed up here, and they must do a good job scaring of Nepali timber poachers. The forest on one side of the ridge is almost unrecognisable from the other. It is an amazing feeling to watch the sunrise over the rolling hills of the Sikkim.

After a big day to get here, and not much sleep, I headed off early. In the sunrise Ilam glinted on the tip of a spur, far far below. I wandered off along the tops, checking out the viewpoints and gazing along the ridge between India and Nepal that leads to Kanchenjunga. After only 500 metres there is a small house, and just now yak head peering west. You drop off the spur here, quite steeply at first passing a small temple under a cliff to your left.

I was heading to Gurula, and then on to Chinntapu, the second highest hill in the area at 3200. Heading down to Gurula there is a muddy jeep track on the ridge. I managed to skirt the largest knob on the ridge by taking a much older path on the southern side. This passes through some pleasant jungle and stream, with a few small ups and downs. It is still used by locals as the wrappings on the ground show. Gurula is a two horse town in a low saddle. The locals were very intrigued to see me.

From Gurula things got a little bit more comical. First I tried to slip behind Chinntapu, taking a beautiful track off to the right of the ridge. I found a little village,a football field and a little troop of people making planks out of ancient rainforest but no way to Ilam. I then headed up Chinntapu and my foot trail up a small spur soon turned into a full on bush bash through dense bamboo and rose on steep slopes...until eventually I found the top in thick fog. This is me on the top.

I still wanted to make a round trip of it, and I had heard you could get to Deurali via Chinntapu without having to retreat through "mamajewa". There was no track leading that way from the top of Chinntapu so I headed back down to the west until I found a small side track, should I/shouldn't I, prudence lost and I headed down here. At one point there was a sign (above) which I hoped said Deurali...but as I soon ended up in the mist at eerie shine on a lofty knob I suspect not. Just near this sign though there is a smaller path that leads steeply down to the right. I took this and followed it grimly in the bucketing rain for several kilometres. This path would be easy to lose, don't! At one point I ended up on a flat grassy spur and the track didn't continue on the far side. I searched around and finally did well to find the track I had come in on. Backtracking 100 metres I found a small junction I had missed...phew! From here the track descended steeply to a saddle on the ridge and then onwards sidling on the right side of the ridge heading down, probably still at least ten kilometres to Deurali but plenty of locals to ask.

Only the two hour walk down to go, with a stop for a sweet coffee at Mir Pokhari, it was a lovely evening in Nepal, sunlit people laughing, kids playing and tea fields glowing. I stumbled along in a bit of a trance, a sure sign of a good couple of days.

Around Ilam

2011-09-11T04:43:00.001-07:00

From the Danfe guesthouse where we are holed up in the middle of the Ilam tea plantations the sound of the school next door is deafening, but hey there are worse sounds than excited kids.

This morning, after a relaxing breakfast, I wandered past the school and followed a road off the edge of the Ilam spur. The road descended through terraced rice paddies and groves of bamboo for a couple of kilometers, losing perhaps 600m in height.

The first landmark was a giant, ancient, tree, perhaps a fig but my botany is limited. 3 old men sat on the seat below it looking down the valley. The river was roaring below. Size wise it reminded me of the bigger Tararua rivers and made me yearn for a tube.

Just past the big tree there is an archway signifying entrance to the Shred Seti Devi temple. I take this, having heard of the possibility of monkeys in the jungle. I found this one spooky, especially when I descended an old hewn stone stairway covered with creepers to find myself at the mouth of a cave where worn old flags flapped in the breeze of a waterfall. I enjoyed the forest though, and the spot, overlooking a bend of the river. Descending a single track that sidles down from the temple I also found a lively group of birds, slow in flight, with stocky brown bodies but the funniest fuzzy white mohawk heads.

I worked my way down the left bank of the river, sometimes climbing high to stay on the track. At one spot I passed a couple of young fellas enjoying swimming at another an old man crouched on a stone in the river scrubbing his clothes. The old man had a small workshop on the river bed where he sorted or broke up stones to the same size. The butterflys were attracted to this place, yellow and orange specimens fell like leaves from trees. The bigger black type charged around more certainly.

From the track at one stage I could see the tea gardens, far far above. It was much hotter down low and I was pouring with sweat. The next house reached was notable as it had a prime spot in a cluster of fruit trees and m two ponds sitting in front of it. Soon after this was a road which I followed up and around to the spur below Ilam.

Passing time was easy, munching almonds and looking for viewpoints of the gorge below. At one point I was surprised as a goanna like creature rushed from my path, at another my shared desperation with the grasshopper stuck inside my shirt would have been amusing for any onlookers.

Overall a great half day mission from Ilam to check out the local surroundings and I am getting plenty of ideas for the last few days we have before we set off towards Kanchenjunga again.

Mai Pokhari

2011-09-10T21:05:00.001-07:00

Yesterday we trekked from Ilam to the holy lake of Mai Pokhari. The Nepali weekend is Saturday, so we made the most of it, setting off early from the town square after a breakfast of "puddie and alle" (fried bread and curried potato)with milk tea.

We had a full jeep, Dr Colin, Dr Hannah; and her partner Tom who is teaching some English at local schools. Tom had made the acquaintance of a couple of young Nepalis, Cecile and Sandip, who were also keen for a day out.

The jeep part of our trip was short, just ten minutes (maybe 3km). Before we were dropped at a small village (Kibilati bazaar) just before the road to Taplejung finally crosses the Ilam spur and starts sidling around the next valley. The route to Mai Pokhari leads up this spur. Just follow the jeep track (you can drive all the way) and look for tracks that cut the corners. At one stage we followed the town water supply pipe straight up, another time the power lines. Cecile introduced us to the ginger and cardamon plants, my spice botany is sadly lacking. I tried to explain that we get all our spices dried and in small boxes. These are the most lucrative crops for local people as the tea plantations are controlled by big corporates and government.

It took us about 3 hours at a slow pace to reach the lake. A sign at the lake shows it is designated as a wetland reserve (RAMSAR even) which is pretty cool, and apparently there are "warty newts", though we didn't see any. The immediate lake surrounds are forested and there is a good track around it for a short stroll. Don't get your hopes up for a pure piece of nature, this is still a bit low in the foothills...and this is a popular religious site

And just a few photos of the local people of Ilam...this place if full of people! I am writing this from my breakfast shop watching the market day slowly crank up. My adventure plans for today are to descend to the valley north of Ilam where apparently there is a temple with monkeys. Then wander down the river to a confluence and another temple...I will let you know how it goes...

The Tea Fields of Ilam

2011-09-10T15:23:00.001-07:00

A day or so ago we came up from the heat and dust of the Nepali Terai to the misty green tea fields of Ilam in the Himalayan foothills.

We arrived in the middle of market day, and quickly tired of carrying our packs through the bustling stalls full of colourfully dressed women. For the first time the Limbu are a noticeable minority, with their heavy gold nose piercings.

Ilam is a prosperous town, famous also for its ginger, cardamon and round chillies. The town is located on a high spur and extends several hundred meters in each direction from its main square. The tea gardens are found just outside town and roll like a wellkept lawn over the top of the spur and down the northern facing slope. We are staying now at a guesthouse amongst the tea. The Dance guesthouse gains in location and the feelings and sounds of rural Nepal what it loses in cleanliness and smokers coughs.

Yesterday, Penny started work at the Ilam Community hospital, which is unfortunately located on a dirt track 20 minutes out of town. The hospital is currently staffed by an Australian ED consultant, a Nepali house surgeon and a British GP trainee. Really friendly bunch which will make the next week really enjoyable for Penny. While Penny worked I roamed the town looking for different foods and places to sit and watch people. I gorged myself on Indian sweets, the best of which was a coconut ice creation, and ate plates of momos, the staple Chinese dimpling like dish.

I met Penny after work and we explored some roads and tracks, finding our way to the lodge and restaurant at the top of the tea gardens. This has been set up for tourists and has that vibe that comes with pagodas and English menus, but what we really appreciated was the atmospheric view down over the tea gardens then out as if into space over the ridgelines descending onto the planes of the Terai and then I guess India. From our height we looked into the top the cumulus storm cloud over the plains and were impressed by the distant lightning display. Good tourism endeavours are worth supporting and we will be back here to sip ginger teas and munch on parathas.

Veg curry in (damn forget)

2011-09-09T01:22:00.001-07:00

Straight from damn forget, Penny and a Tuborg with veg curry. Nice bus ride across the Nepali Terai today. Reminded me of a space invaders game, but with rickshaws and water buffalo, and I wasn't steering.

Just this moment: Narayangarh

2011-09-06T08:00:00.001-07:00

Welcome to our two tone green twin cell complete with groovy red light.

After sorting out our trekking plans with Kanjiroba trekking this morning we caught a local bus in the direction of Chitwan.

Stewart family be prepared for your visit, there are still some sights to be seen and thrills to be had on the roads of Nepal.

Today perhaps the road

2011-09-05T21:09:00.001-07:00

Hey people, our people, we miss you. Hopefully whereever you are you are happy and fascinated.

Today we head down to the Nepali Terai in the direction of Chitwan National Park. That is not our destination this time though, instead we will eventually head far to the east to the famous tea gardens of Ilam, Nepal's Darjeeling. Hopefully today we will make it as far as the junction town of Narayangadh and visit the holy village of Devghat at the confluence of the Kali Gandaki and Bush Gandaki rivers.

My google status has had me "on the road" for over two months now but I regret to say this has been only in a physical sense. I have been hiding, very much inside myself, unsure of my voice and my place.

I woke up yesterday morning and wrote about it, but that shit is boring, just another story of the unfilled promise of youth. The most interesting journey is the one forward towards a goal enjoying every moment.

We have been staying at the Kathmandu Garden guesthouse in the sleepy alley of Paknjol just north of the main tourist area of Thamel. Life for us here is easy. Across the table Penny slurps banana porridge and stirs her jasmine tea.

Yesterday Penny visited the Patan hospital while I went on a quest for a rainbow umbrella. Penny loves rainbow umbrellas, but the monsoon is over and the umbrella supply is short. I wandered out of the familiar Thamel district with its trekking stores and cafes and into the narrower, dirtier alleys of the city.

Alleys come together at shrines, like the spokes of a wheel. In these open spaces people sit peddling gods and gourds. I just stroll, and duck and swerve and find myself in a deep dark alley full of sari shops. Piles of folded saris, mostly red, which glow like embers in the chasm of this maul.

I am sceptical of my umbrella quest, but at least I have entrusted it to the road. I hang a left and twist a right into the maze and glance left into a shop full of umbrellas. The umbrella seller is not surprised at my quest "son this is the only umbrella shop in the whole of Kathmandu, the only shop that sells only umbrellas", but he has no rainbow umbrellas, except those hanging on the wall awaiting repair, "son rainbow umbrellas are very popular".

I buy a black umbrella with a bamboo cane for myself. It will help keep us dry if the monsoon fires up again. And I explain my need to continue my quest. "Son, there are many chances" he replied helpfully.

I am looking forward to the road to Ilam and the chances it holds.

Dahl and Rice

2011-09-01T23:28:00.001-07:00

Premium Kathmandu stylz

The noises of Kathmandu

2011-09-01T17:20:00.001-07:00

We woke this morning to the noises of Kathmandu. The tooting of horns and the barking of dogs seem to overwhelm, but then if you listen closely there is birds chirping, bells ringing and music, perhaps a mosque, droning somewhere to the west.

It is 6am and I am sitting on the rooftop seating of the guesthouse Avalon. The city fills the valley as far as I can see. The low green hills to the north are draped in the rainy season mists beyond them somewhere are the Himalaya.

Goodbye Europe!

2011-08-29T07:32:00.000-07:00

Penny before she turned 30... Penny after she turned 30... Sorry if our blog is a bit jumbly! Our smart phone is not so smart after all, so we rely on the goodness of friends (and their computers) to put photos up. We are currently in Freiburg staying with our friends Julian and Jana- went for a great mountain bike mission in the Black forest yesterday (which is not very black, nor very flat for those of you who are conjuring up images of Hansel and Gretel). Off to Nepal tomorrow; the red tape is already stretching out its sticky paws to us with our permits (or lack thereof) for Kanchenjunga, so we will have to practice our patience... Here are a few more photos for good measure.

Mont Blanc

2011-08-29T07:22:00.001-07:00

Mont Blanc

2011-08-29T06:45:00.001-07:00

With world champs over and some time to spare, we hitched a ride with some fellow orienteers to the well known climbing town of Chamonix. The Mont Blanc massive loomed enticingly over us on our lazy day off so the next day we scraped together some gear(it is illegal to hire out ropes in france apparently though so we had to go without ), and some advice (which varied wildly )

Conveniently you can catch a cable car from bellevue, just down the valley from Chamonix, then rail up to 2300m,saving some climb. From there it was a scramble up a steep rocky ridge to the Gouter hut,with only one dangerous part,the Grand Couloir. This fires rocks down at a rather rapid rate,and requires a quick passage. I was mortified that some of the french climbers didn't think a helmet was necessary here, who were in turn mortified that we weren't roped. The hut was an interesting experience which included a delicious dinner and a short poor sleep (with 3800m altitude and generous amounts of cheese dreams become stranger!). Breakfast was at 2am, and we trudged off up the snow slope by torchlight to the dom du Gouter, the few crevasses large but open and avoidable. Further up the mountain the weather was getting dodgy, with cloud zooming past at about 70kph and bringing flurries of snow. It started to get pretty cold, especially as it is not easy to move very fast at 4500m. The parties ahead of us turned back and so did we, sheltering long enough in the emergency shelter till first light to get amazing views over les Aguilles and the surrounding glaciers and mountains. Great feeling crunching around on snow and looking down at the world at sunrise.

'The icey cold day'

2011-08-08T03:44:00.001-07:00

Definitely the most crazy place we have orienteered! A bit more tiring than usual as we started at 2700m altitude.

On the way to France

2011-08-08T03:42:00.001-07:00

But in the heart of Switzerland, Andermatt.

Visiting Conny in Ulm

2011-08-05T08:43:00.001-07:00

We went to visit our friend Conny (pennys german host sister from 10 years ago) in ulm. Jamie was stoked with the beer from her dad. Was awesome to see her,and show Jamie the view from the top of the ulmer munster,760 steps up. a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dxWv1mkf5Lw/TjwQSUwrTzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Mumb8j97TcI/s1600/IMG_1266.JPG">

Mt Triglav (Slovenia)

2011-08-05T08:38:00.001-07:00

croatia

2011-08-05T08:29:00.001-07:00

slovenia

2011-08-05T08:16:00.001-07:00

Up into the mountains again

2011-08-04T22:13:00.001-07:00

We are just setting off up into the mountains for some more cable car orienteering...day 5 of Swiss o week.

More Swiss O week

2011-08-02T08:05:00.001-07:00

Today we started at 2500metres from the Vorab cable car station. Middling results but at least Penny is recovered from her wasp stings.

The race started on the edge of a glacier and slowly descended through progressively more grassy terraces with lots of tarns, snow patches and rock detail.

We have a rest day tomorrow then three more days of O before we head to France for the world champs.

Thoughts on Switzerland, expensive, conservative, borderline unfriendly. Quite pretty of course. But what sort of place charges you 5 dollars to swim in a lake. We certainly have more freedom in Aotearoa.

Orienteering and cable cars

2011-08-01T08:36:00.001-07:00

Today was the second day of Swiss O week. We started high on the hills above Laax. It took us a gondola, a chair lift and a 40 minute walk just to get to the start.

It wasn't a good day for Penny and I. Penny pulled out as she is still recovering from some nasty wasp stings from yesterday. I had a very good run but was disqualified after punching one wrong control.

Tomorrow we are heading even further up the mountain so there is plenty of room for redemption.

Penny, Murray and the blow up goat

2011-07-31T03:09:00.001-07:00

Day 1 at Swiss o week!

Entertaining locals

2011-07-26T08:04:00.001-07:00

For the last week we have been the honoured and greatful guests of the people of the Gora plateau.

Last night we had a traditional dinner of polenta and goulash, the night before we were entertained by the village choirs and musicians.

Julian alps

2011-07-24T10:06:00.001-07:00

We have been stoked with the mountain huts around these parts-found this bivouac most of the way up a 2000m cliff near the italy-slovenia border.shared it only with a couple of mice and friendly marmots.

Sitting at a Slovenian pub

2011-07-23T11:03:00.001-07:00

I am sitting at a pub in the small Slovenian town of Otlica blogging and drinking white wine.

Penny is with the other NZ girls at a lace making workshop. The local tourist agency has thoughtfully arranged an entertainment program for us, very generous since we are merely sleeping on the floor of their school.

Last night was cheese, blueberry liquer and football. Tomorrow is perhaps paintball.

We have very much enjoyed Slovenia, a new country but an old culture. The Austro-Hungarian Empire is almost perceptable here but the Slovenes have built a friendly, cultured and hopeful nation on these foundations.

We are orienteering each day on beautiful, challenging forests and getting fitter all the time. I will write and take more photos of this soon.

One frustration is blogging on the phone, it is far less user friendly than the laptop, but I will continue to make do. Apologies if the formatting is no good.

BLEDdy Hell

2011-07-21T09:44:00.001-07:00

In Bled earlier today now in Slovenian wop wops for orienteering. Had a great climb of Triglav over last couple of days.

Predjama Castle

2011-07-18T03:09:00.001-07:00

No jousting today, at least not yet

The burj

2011-07-17T00:49:00.001-07:00

What exactly is a burj?

Krk

2011-07-15T03:31:00.001-07:00

Yesterday we orienteered on the Croatian island of Krk. It was a fast sprint race through the alleys of the old town. We did well, Penny finished 3rd and me 6th. Penny won two bottles of wine and 50 maps of Krk for her troubles.

It was a fun event, finishing on a beach with music pumping. There are another 10 kiwis here as well and everyone is competing well. Watching Penny sprint in at the finish I was reminded why we orienteer. The sheer fun and absurdity of our game that takes us crazy places.

Earlier in the day we visited some other towns on Krk, picturesque hilltop pa with paths leading down cliffs to little coves and the Emerald water. This whole country is full of sun lovers, people lie and preen on rocks like a colony of seals. The beauty of having an ozone layer.

Croatia

2011-07-14T00:39:00.001-07:00

We are now in Croatia. Yesterday was the first day of the Croatian open orienteering. We both did ok, and more importantly didn't suffer much from our injuries. It is a good mental challenge for us to change from racing to win to racing as well as we can.

The terrain here is forested karst, with heaps of dolines, sinkholes, and rock. Beautiful and challenging.

We are staying for the next week in the little town of Delnice, which markets itself as the highest town in Croatia and is surrounded by the lovely forests of Risnjak National Park.

We spent the previous few days travelling through Croatia visiting the famous Adriatic towns of Koper, Zadar and Split. The unlikely highlight for me though was the road less travelled, the deserted backroads between Split and Zagreb.

Leaving Knin, the former capital of the breakaway Croatian Serbian republic the main road was closed and we ended up on overgrown country gravel roads weaving through a wasted landscape of rock walls, prickly scrub and ruined houses. In places pick marked walls still show clear evidence of shelling.

The history is complicated, the serbians settled in this harsh place on the request of the Habsburg Empire to provide a buffer against the Turks. They were governed from afar with considerable local autonomy. Following the demise of Empire succesive nation states tried to impose more control here with a particularly difficult period under the Croatian Nazis, Ustasha, during WW2. When Titos Yugoslavia split the rival nationalism of Croatia and Serbians led to succesive bouts of ethnic cleansing during the 1990's. Sobering stuff.

For us the highlight was finding in the middle of this wasted landscape and culturscape a river flowing under an arched bridge by a monastery where we pulled bombs(the jumping type) into a gorgeous pool.

We are finding internet time sparse and the phone not quite as easy as the laptop for blogging, but will do our best. We hope everyone that follows this is warm and safe wherever you are.

The Beginning

2011-07-09T23:41:00.001-07:00

We flew out from Christchurch on the 1st, a long week ago now. I only have little parcels of memories. The coral sea studded with atolls, a vast swampy promontory on the south coast of PNG and as we caught up to darkness, forestry or maybe mining camps on the “birds head" of Indonesia's Papua province.

Our first stop was Hong Kong but only briefly. Great views of the lit city flying in, but no memories of the airport experience. Next though was Dubai, the city in the desert. The city of cranes. The skyscrapers stretch linearly along the coast or perhaps the metro. They are vast constructions, ground floors given to malls and parking, towers to living, the contorted spires and shapes to the gods of aesthetics, or perhaps construction.

The largest of them all is the Burj Khalifa. A beautiful tower stretching into the dust cloud. A symbol of Emirati wealth, a spire to their aspirations. And I don't blame them for their quest to turn Dubai into the centre of the globalised world, the West has thrived for so long on the vast profits of oil.

On the road again

2011-07-07T06:53:00.001-07:00

I feel alive again. I am grateful for the job that has paid the bills for the last two years but damns am I glad to be out. The mist in front of my eyes now rises from the rushing Soca river not from the rigours of a working week where time goes past so damn quick.

We strolled into Bovec yesterday around noon. The narrow valleys of NW Slovenia converge and open out into a broad cultivated basin surrounded on six sides by craggy limestone mountains.

It took us 2 days from the Italian town of Tarvisio. The first night was spent in an Italian Bivouac high on the slopes of Mt Mangart the second in a thunderstorm in a Slovenian forest where barking deer left us shivering in fear.

Bovec at face value is an outdoors paradise littered with trails and rivers and mountains and canyons. We have had some adventures here already but I should really start at the beginning ...

Leaving New Zealand- travel itinerary

2011-06-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

So Jamie has quit his job and Penny has come out of her exam cave, and we are off adventuring again! Below is our list of places we plan to be and roughly the dates, bearing in mind that we are prone to wandering off our planned course. If any of you are crossing our paths, let us know- it is always awesome to see people on the other side of the world! Basically we will be orienteering in Europe most of July/August, and then go to Nepal to work for September-December.

1st July- leave Chch (hopefully, as long as a certain ash cloud behaves itself)

Fly Auckland, Hong Kong, Dubai, Milan (sometime/where in the space time continuum that is involved with crossing too many timezones)

3rd July- walk over the Julian Alps from Italy to Slovenia via Mt Triglav

10th July- meet Greg and Claire in coastal Slovenia and travel to Croatia.

13th July-18th Croatian Open (orienteering 5 day event)

22nd July-26th July Slovenian OO cup (orienteering 5 day)

27th July- travel by train from Ljubljana to Chur in Switzerland via Austria

30th July-6th August- Swiss Orienteering week (Flims)

10th-20th August- World Orienteering Champs Aix-les-Bains (southern France)

20-31st August (something fun somewhere!)

1st September- Milan- Dubai-Hong Kong-Kathmandu

September- Kanchengjunga (working here-see Kanchengjunga School Project link to right of screen)

October- Jamie's family coming to Nepal- meet them in Kathmandu

November- Kanchengjunga (working again)

5th December- home-sweet-home!

Rogaining with Bryn

2011-05-05T00:32:00.000-07:00

I don't do many rogaines in Wellington, it is often too hilly, gorsy, roady and random for my liking (yeah harden up aye). Last night Bryn Davies and I managed to get out to Karori though and had a great Wednesday night suffer fest, 26km in just under three hours taking in Johnstones Hill, Otari/Wilton Bush and Wrights Hills on the way.

My main reason for blogging is to record the links to Bryn's GPS data, complete with maps, average speed, resting time, climb, etc. The wonders of technology!

O Nationals 2011

2011-05-01T00:20:00.000-07:00

Easter for us is Orienteering Nationals. The annual gathering of our community from around New Zealand. This year the location was in the limestone hills south east of Havelock North, the Maraeototara plateau. The event dodged a bullet when the storm of the century arrived as we were leaving.

As usual I wasn't fit and somehow Penny at least appeared to be. A great effort considering all the hard work she has been doing to get through her paeditatric exams. While I was down in the bottom half of the top ten, Penny stared with a 4th (long), 3rd (sprint) and a victory in the middle. She was successful then in defending last years title and became New Zealand's second most "winningest" elite woman with seven titles.

I had some good battles with the likes of Brent. I am definitely going to get fit now though (I am sure Brent will too;-)

Great times though and an awesome reminder (and kick up the bum) about the great friendships and times we have had in orienteering, long shall they last.

Tararua Adventures

2011-04-28T02:01:00.000-07:00

Tararua adventures tend to happen off the cuff, generally on those sunny weekends that just sneak up on you.

There have been a couple of goodies recently firstly a "full Waiohine" mission with Jonathan Kennett, then a nice day trip down Winchcombe ridge with Mark Hooker. Penny unfortunately is still studying, just a couple of months to go.

The Waiohine trip was great, we walked into Mitre Flats on a Friday night gossiping, then spent Saturday legging it over the tops and down the Waiohine to Mid Waiohine Hut. The final day was the best though, serious tubing down the tight, scenic gorge with plenty of adrenalin rushes available!

The Winchcombe ridge trip was great too. We started where Jonathan and I had finished the previous trip, heading up and over from the Waiohine to the top of the Tauherenikau and historic Cone Hut. From here it was straight up and around the Dress Circle, and down through the new country for me of Winchcombe ridge and the aptly named Neill.

Olivine Range

2011-04-26T00:04:00.000-07:00

The Olivine Range trip was our end of summer extravagance. An exercise in expensive simplicity travelling to the other end of the country to immerse ourselves in some wilderness for a time.

We walked from just above Monkey Puzzle gorge on the Cascade road up a great old route up the Martyr Spur (look for the one and only track marker where you would expect it on the road). Martyr Spur is part of the ultramific belt that runs through this part of South Westland abutting the Alpine fault. The red rocks provide a startling contrast to the tussock tops.

The tarns on the tops were a picturesque place to camp with Red Mountain on the other side of the valley.

The next day we wandered up the shapely ramp to the crazy fastness of Staircase Mountain. The big surprise being the vast formations of worn bedrock as we descended to the south. A legacy of the glaciers.

The old fella was watching us, Tititea, peak of glistening white...

Our rough plan was to head south along the ridge as far as time allowed, with escapes over the ultramific belt to the Cascade river when required. The next chunk of ridge was our first obstacle and we sidled low.

Before traversing the ironic (for Wellingtonians venturing south) Tararua peak, and camping in the high basin just to its east. The colourful view from our tent door presented rainbows, sun shafts and sun sets over the Arawhata and Castor & Pollux

We had sort of contemplated Joe Peak as our turn-around point, and a worthy goal it would have been, but we were thwarted the next day by the steep ridge following Bald Mountain. A steep gap presented a possible desperate route which all things considered we declined. We headed out over the ultramific Mt Raddle...

A surprising foggy moonscape where rocks like graters lurked at the slightest wobble.

Descending to near bushline we were getting desperate for a campsite when we found a little platform which just needed a little clearing, the girls (and I) got to work and it proved a worthy spot.

All that remained was a wander down to the Cascade. We tried an orienteers route, linking up the two little creeks to Woodhen pond and it goes all right, but apparently the better route hugs the river somewhere. Suffice to say the Cascade doesn't give in easily and isn't really designed for trampers, which is all good in my books...a few pics...

A great area for a bit of off track tramping in South Westland!

Chamberlain Creek 2

2011-02-28T22:40:00.000-08:00

Amidst the wider turmoil of the Christchurch earthquake we escaped to the hills. Clare was up from Christchurch for a breather and an adventure while Caspar was after a good mission before Nadspar 1 enters the world. Chamberlain creek fortunately is a place where many purposes can be realised.

This trip was a sequel for me after Penny and I ventured down last summer, but sequels aren't always flops. One of the greatest pleasures of the outdoors is showing other people places you love.

We walked in on Saturday evening to Herepai hut discussing the earthquake, and life and software development strategies. Being Agile seemed to become a theme for the weekend, retrospectively this was quite appropriate for our incremental iteration.

Ruapae and East Peak can be hard work in the wrong weather conditions, but on Sunday morning it was peaceful, wisps of cloud rose around us rather than being pushed. We angled into Chamberlain creek on the spur SW from East Peak missing the worst of the bush bash. Kitting up in the sun before entering the creek it didn't take us long to reach the first waterfall.

The first waterfall commits you to the task at hand, especially once the rope is pulled. It is quickly followed by a smaller waterfall and then a section of rough travel down to the tightest part of the creek a curvaceous stepped waterfall requiring the full 25 metres of doubled rope. The sides of the canyon jut out angularly creating almost a corkscrew effect as you descend into a dark pool.

This really is the crux of the canyon, what follows is fun bouldery travel with several compulsory swims and two jumps of note (which can easily be abseiled). You become quick at committing yourself to the plunge.

And you become eager to see what lies over the next horizon line.

The final jump is an appropriately climactic conclusion. You round a corner, see the Ruamahunga river appear over a sharp grassy spur and the river falls away at your feet. You couldn't hope for a better take-off spot or pool, but the height still gives some concern. A very majestic spot.

After Chamberlain Creek there is still a couple of kilometres of gorge on the Ruamahunga which would quickly become dangerous in high water. We pack floated out through deep still pools skirting some lovely looking tubing rapids. The common option is to follow the river down to Roaring Stag lodge but we cut off the corner, heading directly east to the track via a lovely open spur (within cooee of the lakelet, and Ruapae stream. A great summer day trip for fit and experienced parties.

Races and Photos

2010-08-24T01:53:00.000-07:00

The only thing that beats sitting in the sun during afternoon smoko is sitting on the couch with a beer looking out at the harbour. These two times are in a category of their own, when you just sit and let life drift by, like you need to sometimes to keep perspective.

My office looks north out onto the ground level of a 3 storey giant white wall. I have had brief Banksy moments where I contemplate creating a metaphorical hole for myself to escape through, with only myself to benefit though, and the presence of several giant sized metaphorical holes in my head, the investment seems unneccesary.

Banksy shows the sea to the West Bank

We have been escaping recently by indulging in races. First up was the Winter Classic the iconic hard man orienteering event this year run in the wilds of Karori.

We rough and tumbled through the scrub and possum trails of Wrights Hill reserve, popping out occasionally onto the well loved mtb trails of Salvation and Deliverance, appropriate lines of weakness for our jungle adventure. The old guy with the trophy is Penny's Dad Neil. Winner of the prestigious Wayne Cretney Memorial Cup for the M40 grade...Neil can now run M65!

Last Saturday our adventure fix was the Mukamuka munter. 3 hours worth of Orongoronga grunt and suffering. The first two hours were fantastic, running the wild south coast past Tutaekirae head and through into the land of quad bikes, fishing shacks and craypots, turning up the eroded Mukamuka valley and cranking up the gravel that evolved into boulders, into scrambling, into relief as South saddle was reached on the side of Mt Matthews. But was it worth the grief at limping down a beautiful single track just right for powerful strides with crippling cramp in both hamstrings?

Bryn looks good as he starts to drop me

Other recent highlights have been a descent with Brent of the Karapoti gorge on our new inflatable canoe (many of missions to come)....grade 3 in flood still a little bit bony and a few log jams but great times!! ....And the recent publication of Jonathon Kennets new Tararua Adventure Guide, with the most bad taste cover photo ever chosen...;-)

Penny continues to work and study hard with exams now confirmed for February/March and bus drivers provide me endless entertainment and challenge. I am now in a small team managing 500 of them. What else to say? Maybe I have to start getting political again!

Oops one last photo for the records: Aaron, Jamie and Brent, Arrow adventure race 2004, how come it looks like the 1980's?

Three Passes

2010-07-19T03:36:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why, but the Three Passes has never held much allure to me. Maybe it was the plod up the Waimak, or the awkwardness of transport at the other end. Maybe it was the valley travel, when around Arthurs Pass I always yearn to be on the tops. But regardless, a few days ago it happened anyway, sort of without thinking, a semi-drunken proposition at a party to run the Three Passes in a day in winter, which Greig Hamilton cruelly held me to...

5:30am: The river bed is crunchy. The stars are so bright and so uniform that it is like the deity has put a colander upside down on our horizon. Though with torch on and head down the fog of our breath leaves us stumbling on the slippery stones. We expect to get wet early, but the frozen mountains are bonding firmly with the water this morning. The braid of the Waimakariri that normally crashes into the bluff just upriver from Klondyke Corner has vanished leaving only a worn channel.

We stick on the true left, navigating by the vague silhouette of Mt Stewart and the patterns of alluvial gravel. The comfort of our lives becomes dependant for an hour on the whimsical gradation and deposition of rocks. When we hit a line of beech, we know we have crossed the Crow and we move on upriver, finally crossing just before the rough fan of Greenlaw Creek, which I remember from daylight sometime, and popping out at Carrington close to dawn.

7:40am: We leave the Waimak and head up the White river, underneath the Clough Cableway, where Greg slips, sucker punching his kidney on the only rock in the vicinity. I pause for a quick photo of Mt Murchison, the highest point of Arthurs Pass National Park.

The Taipoiti is good going, a lack of water, and good footing. Frozen waterfalls pause breathless and the canyon closes in, but ascends only steadily. Rock Wren live here, but this time of year, they will be deep in their bouldery tunnels wrapped in a lifetime of collected fluff from dead chamois. I look back to Mt Harper with interest in the long ridge.

Onwards and upwards. The Ariel Tarns are snowed over, hidden for the winter, but the Whitehorn snowfield is in good condition and the sun is rising behind us, tickling the backs of our ears with a hint of warmth.

We plunge down into the dark Cronin. Blue glacial ice hangs high on the true right. A sturdy remnant. The sepia 1970's shots in the Arthurs Pass Visitor Centre show this glacier plunging boldly down the face. THe going becomes hard, soft snow over hard rocks. We stumble our way down the valley until we reach a point where the reflected heat of the river has been enough to melt a narrow path of snow along its length. We boulder hop quickly towards Park Morpeth Hut at the junction of the Wilberforce.

12pm:Browning Pass was originally proposed as a road link. What were they thinking? With crampons on running shoes I was only too aware of my limitations. The slope is like that of a volcano, you ease up it until it steepens and you are committed and have no choice but to continue.Greig has much more experience on steep ice than me and following his crampon steps was very excavating exercise. I needed to make sure!!

The crater rim reached I collapsed with the view of the frozen Lake Browning, a vista seen many times before in tramping magazines. While back down the precipice (ok the exaggerations are growing) the Wilberforce stretched away down to the plains of the Rakaia.

We stopped here also for our team photo, squinty and rattled...

From here it was all down hill first into the headwaters of the Arahura, blocked occasionally by frozen gullies of snow. Then onto the well kept old packed tracks around Harman hut, where dracophyllums and mountain cedars give the bush character. The track to the tussockly Styx saddle can be run with ease, and then all of a sudden you can see the sea. Well down valley over Lake Kaniere towards the Hokitika coast.

4.40pm We leave the Oasis of Grassy Flat hut bathed in light. This is the best hut of the lot situated in a large basin with shear but well spaced ridges rising all around. I promise myself to come back one day, to explore the side track that heads up to Browning Biv and the tops beyond.

6.30pm We arrive finally at the road end, having succumbed again to our torch light on the short winter days. Penny is there instead of Dad, and it is great to see her. Nothing left to do, except fish and chips in Hokitika and the long drive back to Arthurs Pass. A great day out.

Waterskiing Wanaka

2010-05-13T04:10:00.000-07:00

Things Ain't too Bad

2010-05-11T23:23:00.000-07:00

We have been stuck somewhat in the throes of work, play and exhaustion. Parenting is hard, even if it is only of a feline variety. Sherpa Tenzing came into this world four months or so ago, he has been with us for a month. He's a cutie...

Today for the first time in a while I saw all the beauty in the world. The tooth I got pulled out yesterday must have done the trick. Sunrise from the deck probably helped as well...

At lunchtime Penny rescued me from work and we went running around the Ataturk memorial at the head of the Wellington harbour. It was such a still, mild day, that it felt great just to be alive , to be running. No pictures today from there, but the words from Ataturk on the memorial inspired me. A perceptive recognition (if unwitting) on the foolishness and universality of the human condition.

"Those heroes that shed their blood
and lost their lives;
You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country.
Therefore rest in peace.
There is no difference between the Johnnies
and the Mehemets to us where they lie side by side
here in this country of ours.
You, the mothers,
who sent their sons from far away countries,
wipe away your tears;
your sons are now lying in our bosom
and are at peace.
After having lost their lives on this land they have
become our sons as well."

Our sport has been a highlight recently. Grit occasionaly triumphing over fitness. Greig Hamilton and I won the New Zealand 24hr rogaine champs in the Akatarawa forest in April. The highlight being rough and tough bush navigation in this terrific little chunk o country.

While earlier in April we journeyed down to Central Otago: Alexandra, Cromwell sort of way for a long awaited National Orienteering Champs. We ran on the old sluicings of the old timers in Roxburgh, Bannockburn, Earnscleugh and Naseby. A terrific weekend of competition and camaraderie. Here's a couple of maps...

And theres been the odd other trip as well. Chamberlain Creek in the Tararuas was a bit of a blast. Abseils and deep pools discouraged the camera. Its a shame as we would have been a site walking into the Roaring Stag Lodge in our wetsuits. A hut fairly full (30 people in a ten bunk hut) of VUWTC punters.

And before that Caspar and I took on the Carkeek picnic (courtesy of Greg Thurlow hospitality) and were whipped. The Carkeek picnic is is a highly regarded traverse of the Northern Tararuas in a day, via the parks spiritual heart Carkeek Hut, ridge and Park Forks, high up the pristine Waiohine. Caspar took some photos of this trip. He was looking a bit nervous for a start...

But as we got the South Ohau and then Arete under our belts he started to pull through, it was a bit foggy and I got us briefly lost coming off the summit of Lancaster, but by Carkeek ridge the fog began to clear...

And Carkeek hut showed up.

After this it was a wonder down to the lovely Waiohine and a long trudge up thickening regeneration to McGregor and Jumbo. The others met us there and the mission was over bar the pain of the final little walk out!

Apart from that I don't know what is there to blog? Bus and babies? I guess theres the failed trip to the Gardens in February still hovering around. I will have to dig up some good photos of southern rata flowering...,

Reading Out Loud

2010-03-11T22:29:00.000-08:00

One of my strongest memories from this past summer is reading a Hone Tuwahre poem at Zoe and Nick's wedding. I suspect I had the honour as I was their oldest looking Maori friend. I enjoy reading out loud, it is a chance to unlease those creative juices somewhat and throw off some of the cloaks we are shrouded with...

The poem is called "Hmmmm" it is a love poem, with a strange mix of homely nostalgia and thirst for life. As I read it I was moving through a wrecked old farmhouse beside a river in South Otago, a landscape that Tuwhare called home.

Hmmmm ...

It is a house which requires
care in construction.

It has no walls thus permitting
expansion. The ceiling
is unlimited stretching to heaven.

It may endure given a chance
thats for sure: hmmmm ...

Because it is of earth, smelling
of earth, its foundation
may be built on sand.

It may be a house built on thin
wooden legs, steadfast, and
walking into a river swollen
suddenly by a cloud-burst:
or a house-boat chundered-out
and abandoned on a reef of mud.

But since there are no walls --or roof
to it, love may be seen as bars
of feeling - tones and colour, warm
cold, hot, grey and with lots
of blue, or just plain
shitty coloured!

Fleshed out though, the house of love
isn't shapeless. It has presence.
It has form - a brilliant arc
uniting heaven and earth: actually
love-thoughts seeking a new way
of expression: aha, aha aha
as horses pounding into the straight
riders snarling -- the anguish
of stretched leather smelling of sweat.

Late Summer in Wellington

2010-03-11T02:13:00.000-08:00

The weather has been special this week, and there is nowhere on earth better than Wellington on a good day. Apart from 50 odd hours of work what have we managed to squeeze in...

Well first it was Karapoti, New Zealand's most famous bike race. 1000 people traversing the Akatarawa wilderness north of Wellington and then coming back again. Penny did great and had a big smile on her face at the end despite her dire predictions (I knew she was well and truly tough enough to enjoy it). My effort was not quite so good, breaking a chain after 5km, and completing the remaining 45km by scootering, free wheelin and pushing. I got to yarn to lots of people though, going past me.

That evening we camped with some friends at Kaitoke Regional Park, the home of Rivendell, lovely forests and copious camp spots. Its location so close to the suburbia of the Hutt is unusual, but it is a well managed and beautiful spot. And its close to the blueberry cafes of the Akatawawa valley where we brunched. They couldn't get eftpos so they gave us an iou, hears to that and pancakes.

Back into town and it was a couple of hot hours at the Newtown festivals with myriads of stalls and buskers. There is always something interesting to see in Newtown, but this was something else as were the samosas.

Then finally for the weekend a bit of opera. Clementine Lovell, a friend of a friend, we had heard her sing at their wedding, so were up for a trip over to historic Thorndon and the interesting venue of the "Moorings", which is an old ballroom/den/secret society ritual room, located at the back of an old villa, the bottom right bit of the following photo...

I have never really "got" Opera, but hearing it in the flesh is great, the distillation and magnification of emotion is intense, at times I felt the hairs standing up on the back of neck. And watch for Clementine Lovell, New Zealand's next international opera star?...

The working week started well, with Swing dancing to look forward to. We are following in the footsteps of our friends Penny and Nick. Check out this outrageous first dance from their wedding over summer, which we were honoured to attend on Waiheke Island.

It might take a while to reach quite that level...

Ah and then what else has happened, a 5km race and meetings on Tuesday, then an evening hanging around with an old friend Tom on Wednesday, checking out the local Tibetan solidarity movement and watching a film on the latest environment issues in Tibet, then an amusing time heckling at the Backbenchers political debate....its easy to keep busy!

Grandad

2010-03-02T07:21:00.000-08:00

My Grandad passed away a couple of weeks ago. He's the one on the left below (I'm still lucky enough to have the old looking guy on the right ;-)).

He was an amazing man who rose from humble origins, growing up through the Depression to become a PHD, Professor and Knight, Principal of Lincoln College, a fine rugby player and most importantly a fantastic husband, father and grandparent. He achieved his goals with dignity, determination and a minimum of fuss. He leaves a big gap in our lives. A gap to hopefully be filled by memories, dreams and closer relationships within our remaining family.

At the funeral held in a packed Knox Church the family pulled through well with great speeches, poems and even Karanga (little sis) from the following generations. Nana asked me to read Psalm 121. This is a verse which I had never connected with previously but is now so special to me. The image I conjured in reading it was my Grandad as a young man, working the hill country of Putere behind Wairoa. A land burned and probably still metaphorically smouldering. A harsh land with little shade recently exposed to the sun. What shaped the young man during this time, what were his challenges and his hopes for the future?

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help
My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.
He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.
Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.
The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.
The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.
The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

The best online obituary I have found is here. An obituary written by Mike Crean was also published in the Press and Dominion Post on the weekend.

Rest peacefully Grandad, your journey was a marvellous one and we will look after Nana (when she is not looking after us).

Snippets of Summer

2010-01-28T07:41:00.000-08:00

Four in the morning on the 28th of January and summer is slipping away. We are both back at work, Penny in the neo-natal unit (the baby factory) and me now fulltime at the bus company counting beans. Writing has taken a backward step to living on the move and I wonder if thinking has as well. I don't feel in the right space to savour every moment, to remember vividly, I'm left with fleeting moments of the last few months and I don't even think of them much.

Sprint the Bays

Most recently I headed to the Hawkes Bay for an orienteering competition "Sprint the Bays", six sprint events on detailed campus and park maps over a weekend. Six times fifteen minutes flat stick, hard on these untrained legs. I did well but the moments I remember are the negative ones, a mis-punch (clipping the wrong checkpoint) when the yellow jersey would have been mine and the frustration of seeing another competitor cross an out of bounds area when I had been struggling to run him down. The bad moments seem to stick sometimes.

Calamity in Cambridge

A couple of weeks back, Penny and I undertook this little Adventure Race with good friends Brent and Ramash. We kayaked on Lake Karapiro and most memorably down the worn gorge from the dam to Cambridge. The river still flows like a river should for a while there. We biked and trekked around the low hills south of town and towards Wharepapa our navigation skills and Brents tow rope securing a win.

A Tararua Tramp

We finally explored the Poads Road entrance to the Tararuas, heading up the Ohau one fine day and returning down Gable End ridge one wet day after. The South Ohau river is pleasant and fast travel with low and warm water, I could imagine it is otherwise from time to time, and the South Ohau Hut looks a great spot. We headed up over Girdlestone Saddle and Pukematawai to find Arete Biv as darkness and the front caught up on us. There were nervous moments as my navigation wasn't good in the clag and the hut proved to have been moved. But once inside we had shelter from the storm.

Back in Arthurs Pass

Working back in time and imagining Brent and I reversing the top half of the South Island, stopping only briefly at Okiwi Bay on the Kaikoura Post and at the Anglers Arms in North Canterbury when the norwester threatened to blow the kayak of the roof, and we get to Arthurs Pass where Mum and Dad live amongst the beech, keas and tourists. We stalled for a time here this summer, playing board games with the extended Prince clan and watching the rain drum against the windows.

The best day was when I grabbed Sara away from the family one morning and went up one side of the valley - Mt Phipps, and then with Aaron and Brent popped up for a rumble down the Bealey Scree that afternoon. Thats living in the mountains! High up on the summit ridge of Phipps I startled a rock wren in a pile of choss, it stared at me for a second then vanished into its tunnels.

Phipps from Temple Basin, the cloud had returned by the time we reached the top

Brent on the Bealey scree

Hanging around on Mt Bealey

Aaron in Rough Creek

Aside from the action we spent some peaceful time just hanging around with Aaron and Sara's kids, Karin and Greta, perhaps relearning with them the sights and smells of old bachs and the Arthus Pass environment.

And then heading back into the mists of time and we spent several days in the paradise of Totaranui. For some reason I remember the first run, up over Gibbs Hill and down past the old farmhouse turned hut to the headlands and beaches of the quiet side of the Abel Tasman. The last couple of headlands we skirted, clambering the granity coast.

There were other missions too, a descent of one of the creeks that drains from the inland track, avoiding waterfalls by reading the lie of the land and undertaking feats of great agility on the great old trunks wedged in the river. I remember Lara doing a high jump into a pool out over a ledge when there was no other option, and Penny and Brent emerging from a bend in the gorge like tightrope walkers on an old rimu.

And now I am really out of time and I haven't ventured onto Caspar and Nadines wedding, or visiting Julie at Outward Bound or Mt Philistine or the gorgeous ratas and pohutukawas or summer concerts in the park that have been filling our evenings lately. More to talk about next time I guess as well as upcoming weddings and fingers crossed a big trip into the West Coast hinterland....take care out there.

As big or as small as the ocean.

2009-12-11T16:33:00.000-08:00

Home can't be more peaceful than when it is first spring cleaned in summer. Books straightened, cds piled, bed shifted - so the dust build-up can be vacumned and for change - skirting boards damped down with a wet cloth. But our home is very close to the outside world. In a northerly you can hear it throbbing. The door grates, towels whip on the line and the pohutukawa hisses.

A rather fragile looking craft has braved the swells of Evans Bay and is making hard work of it. It is wild out there, and the boat is crashing heavily into the gleaming face of the waves. It makes me think of the ocean. What it is like to be out there. My memories are further stirred by reading Bob McKerrows blog. Bob is an adventurer, writer and humanitarian working in Indonesia and currently visiting Banda Aceh on the 5th Anniversary of the Tsunami. On Boxing Day in 2004 the ocean reclaimed Banda Aceh and many of its people, yesterday looking at Bob's blog the ocean was peaceful, just like some days Wellington Harbour can seem like a pond.

We visited Aceh last year and travelled by boats, similar to those in Bob's blog through many of the small islands off Sumatra's west coast. Travelling from Singkil to the Banyak (many) islands we were hit by a squall and our fellow travellers looked anxious, but on another occasion we sat on the prow of a coconut boat alone on the ocean and watched the sun sink into the Indian Ocean.

Reading Bob's blog and looking out at the ocean now Indonesia doesn't seem so far away. Our ocean, despite its different name, is the same ocean that washes up against the many islands, its the same ocean that swallowed Banda Aceh that the flimsy craft is still battling against outside my window. Its an ocean so vast, and yet so small, depending on how we percieve it from one minute to the next.

Santa Run

2009-12-09T17:00:00.000-08:00

Last night saw the fruition of a little project I have been helping out with, the Great New Zealand Santa Run. I was the manager of the Wellington Event with the Nationalbig boss being Shaun Collins of Lactic Turkey Events. There is a nice write-up about the event in the Dominion Post and on Stuff here.

Grateful thanks to my Santa marshalls for their sterling work, the only errors on the night being mine, dammit! I will post some photos of the run and marshalls soon as...

Santa Marshalls

And Santa runners.

Just some photos from the Weekend.

2009-12-06T01:52:00.000-08:00

Filling in the pieces of missions to do around Wellytown. This one was Titahi Bay to Makara Beach, and a bit of a walk back. Jenny, Mark, Chris, Rachel and I started early at Wellington Station catching the train and bus to Titahi Bay. On the way the going was good and the weather improving to scorching so swimming was de rigeur and sunburn post facto.

Not many necessary swims, just one I think for Mark who likes climbing, but plenty of opportunities for getting wet if you so desired. Highlights included the crazy rock, views of Kapiti/Mana/South islands, Boom Rock, Goats and milkshakes at the end.

Looking south towards Makara, and the crazy rock

Oystercatchers - Mana from Boom Rock and the team.

Photos of the day, credit Jenny Cossey

...and action photo, with close-up of perfect technique

Akatarawa Video

2009-12-02T12:38:00.000-08:00

Here's a quick vid from Mick of our trip in the weekend, doubling as a promo for the National Rogaine Champs next April. See us trying stay dry!(and failing)

Mt Wainui and the river at the back of yonder

2009-12-01T13:26:00.000-08:00

Well I've got mixed feelings about this mission, you see it was a long time coming and seldom have I failed so bad in completing a mission. The idea was great, a traverse of the Whakatikei river from source to sea. But it wasn't to be, among other things my ankle wasn't going to let it happen. Bodies! One day primo the next day poked. Mortality sucks. On the positive side though it was a great afternoon out with a couple of mates; Mick and Ramash, in a neat little part of our world. Here's to that.

The Whakatikei is a rugged part of the Akatarawa range that drains eventually into the Hutt river. It is targeted eventually to be the next dam site for Wellington water consumers. But at the moment it is just a beautiful mostly prisitine hidden gem on the edge of our capital city.

View Larger Map

The headwaters of the Whakatikei is the east tending stream in the middle of this (old) photo.

The first task was to get to Paekak, and in true carbon conscious fashion we took the train. Note to self, "trains run on time". Reunited we headed out through Paekak cutting through some farmland on QE 2 park (or maybe not - see land boundary below Mick) to McKays crossing, and then up through the old Whareroa farm which is being actively developed with walking tracks as part of a green corridor from the sea to the hills.

There were no tracks where we were going however. Straight up the hill following a fenceline watching the ocean and Kapiti island grow bigger behind us.

Wainui is capped by a couple of hundred metres of bush and we soon ploughed into this following a rough, but appreciated route, marked by a local DOC ranger, at 722 metres Wainui peers down at a fault line running along its western foot known more commonly as transmission gully, but in the mist we couldn't see much at all.

For us there was only time for some preventative foot action.

And them it was down into the creek, and what a little beauty it is, slimy rocks quickly give way to bigger grippier bouders or level riverbed to gallop down, and the trees are big, rata, rimu and the other podocarps tower all around when the lower canopy parts from time to time. Or they fall and provide obstacles or features in the gorge.

We had the occasional swim or scramble. It wasn't warm out of the sun, but even in the deepest confines of the valley the sun was never far away.

Out eventually, and it was power lines that signalled our return to civilisation, or not. We were at least out of the gorge, but we were still in the middle of nowhere. It made me reflect that in New Zealand some of our best adventures are in "pylon country" where electricity infrastructure required the battering out of roads across hostile terrain. I'm thinking the Borland Road, Dennistoun to Lyall on the Buller, McKenzie pass down south. Pylons can be beautiful with history and nostalgia on their side.

Being in the middle of nowhere we walked around the corner and bumped into "Orange Hut". The mythical heart of trail bike and 4wd drive culture around Wellington. True to its name it is painted Tui colours (as in the beer) and smells of man. Outback man. A concrete silo with bunks its austerity is only just resistant to the the type of graffiti and abuse that huts within reach of petrol powered transportation are subjected to. Mores the pity, it is a good spot.

It was here that we bailed, turning our backs of the further river journey opportuned and heading home with our tails between our legs, following the pylons back to Whareroa and down the hill. A good mission left incomplete for another time.

Months Go Sliding By

2009-11-29T14:50:00.000-08:00

Time has slipped by me the last couple of months, and the urge to get creative and communicate through this blog has been subsumed by the cravings for the couch and contemplation, and the bike and perspiration. Not to mention a bit of navigation on the side.

First though we went to Tonga. It was a get together of a group of friends from Gisborne and before, and we stayed with the family of our old flatmate Mike, who own a surf resort on the North Shore of Tongatapu.

Us and then the gang of Techno Tonga 2009

It was great to catch up and relax with friends we hadn't seen for a while. There was plenty of cocktails on the beach, reading books, surfing and snorkelling going on, a touch of volleyball and a magnificent table tennis tournament, won by Mike the Tongan Tornado. In the photo below I declare the eventual runner up "tighty whitey" the winner of an earlier round game.

Outside the friends, frivolity and beach Tonga has little to offer a traveller after aesthetic beauty and outdoor recreation with a wannabe ecologist bent. It is a small flat island with far too many people and churches and too little biodiversity. The prominent fruit bats were a gift to the king sometime last century and apparently eat mosquitos, but have also decimated the islands mango supply. Having them flapping around in the daytime seems to me at least a metaphorical exclamation of a collapsed eco-system.

So yeah it was really a beach and beer trip.

I guess since and before then there have been a few strolls and missions around Wellington. Mum and Dad came up to Wellington and I took them over to the fantastic Matiu/Somes Island. The island in the middle of the harbour we look out to from our lounge which is now a nature reserve and home to all kinds of cool creatures like parakeets, giant weta and tuatara.

And before then, I think, there was the rubbish clean-up down at Evans Bay which I organised. There was a great turn out of people who learnt a lot about the micro-trash we are pumping into our oceans every minute. Thanks to all those that made it out, especially those under duress!

Another great little trip we did was the Haurangi Crossing, a mountain bike out in the Wairarapa. The team for this one was us, Jacqui, Ramash and Greg. Starting just south of Martinborough we headed down the main road towards Cape Palliser. It was a pleasant rolling road with a tail wind the highlights of which were the quite fantastic local store after about 10km (long enough for a pie) and the appearance of a snow covered Tappy, a feature in this part of the world, as we descended into the bays of the south coast (Mt Tapuaenuku of the inland Kaikouras is 150 kilometres away across Cook Strait).

From the south coast it turned ugly as we headed uphill into the Haurangi range. Real ugly. Brutal. It was Pennys first mission on her new bikeand she was pretty tough to come through it. To survive. The Haurangis are low, steep hills covered with scrub and the odd patch of remnant forest. It is one of those hunters paradises, where men get to cruise around on quad bikes with guns having fun. After a few hours or more we emerged on the far side with 30km's or so to go to the car along a lovely gravel road. Good times.

Rightio, thats about it apart from a few orienteering events and general cruisings around, hopefully clearing the decks will encourage me to get more creative on the blog again.

The Wild Rimutakas.

2009-09-28T02:51:00.000-07:00

My mate Caspar has done a great blog on last Sundays mission, read it here.

Caspar, Ramash and I went looking for bush and creeks. We started by climbing the brutal 4WD track up Climie from Tunnel Gully that we reccied a couple of months ago. This time however we dropped straight off the back of the Hutt Valleys ventoux into Climie Creek. Once we remembered that wet bushbashing was best done with raincoats on it was a blast (its just that it had been a while).

The subsidiary ridge dropped us in the creek pretty quickly but there were no obstacles that weren't easily skirted or scrambled. Ramash comes into his own on rough terrain and Caspar does a good monkey imitation so were made pretty good time with my gimpy ankle holding up.

It was great to meet the Pakuratahi River. Pouring down with a touch of tannin from the centre of the Rimutakas. The forest is powerful here, Rimu's and red beech lord it over the lesser shrubs, and we just pass briefly. The journey down river to the old railway corridor was fun bush travel practice, but little of a serious nature with these water levels.

This could be a wilderness river anywhere in New Zealand, what a spot! Out onto the incline and it was great times, running and occasioanlly sprinting between interpretation panels. Learning the storys of the people and steam engines that had passed this way before. A real highlight for me was running lightless through the long tunnel, with only the distant shield of light to guide you. After a while it feels like the shape of light is hovering in your vision, moving backwars and forwards, levitating, and it becomes quite a surreal experience until the brush the rough concrete with the back of you swinging hand.

Emerging on the far side to the wasted foothills where forest and eight species of Moa once lived, you wonder of what mistakes we are making now that are the equivalent of these mistakes they made in the past. I was surprised to learn that the fires in this area were often started by sparks from the great steam engines that rumbled up these steep inclines. Great mission, thanks heaps guys.

A day in the hills with Greg.

2009-09-20T02:03:00.000-07:00

A week or so ago on a Saturday night I realised that Sunday was looking good for a walk. My call found Greg Thurlow in a spa with a few drinks under his belt, but he was easy to convince. 7.30.

The pick-up went smoothly, though the parcel was looking a little ragged around the edges. Up over the Rimutakas again and the discussion was inevitably on the weather. The ragged Tararua veteran thought it looked windy. The hopeful Tararua newbie thought it would ease off. We were out of the Holdsworth Road end speedily, jogging to get to the tops as quickly as possible. Runners get to Powell Hut in under 60 minutes in the annual Holdsworth Jumbo mountain run and while we weren't quite on that pace with a bit of gear and food on our backs it was solid.

Greg emerging on the Holdsworth Tops - Totara Flats of the Waiohine beyond.

We zoomed in and out of Powell, the tops were too enticing. Holdsworth summit passed, and the pleasant ridge to Jumbo. After this it was new territory for me. Angle Knob, then dropping down until a bizarre cluster of rocks on the ridge signalled the turn-off to McGregor Bivvy. Its not too far down to McGregor and it is a wicked spot. High on a ridge it is in the ampitheatre of the Tararuas. From the left the main range comes rolling up with the massif (excuse me for using a aountaineers term while bush-walking) of Crawford and the Carkeek and Dorset ridges lapping down off the northern Tararuas. The best perspective though is the southern face (there goes that mountaineers language again) of Girdlestone.

And a few more photos of the vicinity:

Back up onto the ridge from the Biv, and over McGregor proper. One of the 15 or so Tararua peaks to top 1500metres. The most difficult part of our little expedition was to come though, the infamous Broken Axe Pinnacles.

Much to my mother-in-laws delight we chose the sidle route, which was still slippery enough. She was only delighted because she had taken the high route a couple of years ago. Made of sterner stuff those old timers! After this point the travel became easier again, if not a little up and down through the Kings. Mitre was showing off its western flank and the nice little waterfalls of the South Mitre stream and the slowly rising ridge of Girdlestone is very elegant

It wasn't long before Girdlestone, then Brockett and Mitre succumbedthis time to our increasingly weary feet. It was a pleasant time to be up there in the early evening as the wind died away (and the Tararua newb won the weather forecasting debate;-)). The view back along the range shows some nice country covered.

All that remained was a jog down to Mitre Flats hut then a wander back over, into and down the Atiwhakatu. A great day out in the Tararuas!