Kea Catching

We had always thought of kea as an alpine bird. At home in ski-field carparks and the top of mountains. I was a bit put out when I heard that Franny and Brent were studying kea at sea-level in Okarito forest. Franny tells an amusing story of a worried and kea phobic Okarito retiree, terrorised by the keas of Franz Joseph throughout her working years and worried about the "kea people" calling the keas into town. Franny and Brent as the kea pipers of Okarito! Little does she know they say that there is a strange old loner bird living just a couple of hundred metres from her seaside bach.

We had happened on a good day. A quick boat ride across Lake Mapourika in the early morning, a casual walk through the forest to Alpine Lake and a thrilling chopper ride out to Franz, back loading on the DOC Meet the Locals TV crew. It was great been in the bush. We stopped regularly while Franny and Brent released their pre-recorded birdsong on the jungle. Horace, our stuffed Kea decoy, was placed enticingly in a carefully planned spot surrounded by nooses. Nooses are sort of like lassoo's except you don't have to throw them and they're not made of rope. They're of a fine filament and they are carefully pre-arranged where the kea is most likely to land. The noose is linked up to a fishing rod device ready for the snatch to be made.

The first two suspects weren't impressed. One sat screeching at us on top of the giant stump (or remains) of an old kauri tree, the other flew powerfully past, then back, like a pendulum. Suspicious, Franny radio tracked the other and identified it as an already tagged bird. The third kea we encountered though was naive. Horace was one attractive looking kea. She flew in, first landing immediately above Penny and I nestled in prime spectator viewing positions, and then hopped over to ask Horace what on earth we were up to. With a snap of the wrist the noose was tightened and the kea flew seemingly into the arms of Franny and Brent (it may have been more complicated than that, but I was too slow to watch it all). They were stoked.

Penny's prize was to learn to hold a kea, cradle the bird and use one hand to control its head and beak. She handled it like a pro.

The kea was then "processed", you know like processed food. Out of Frannys bag of tricks came a radio transmitter, with nylon string to attach it, a beak measuring device, scales and other fandangos.

I think the kea was pleased to finally fly off back into the bush, leaving Horace to return to his bubbllewrap and us to wander down to the beautiful Alpine Lake and its idyllic hut to wait for the chopper. And what a way to get out of the bush, lifting quickly and skimming the rugged little hills of Okarito forest before the terrain plummets away to the Waihao river bed. Awesome.

Oh yeah, I was going to talk about 1080 and keas. Well the story as far as I can make out is that despite years of scepticism from DOC scientists, recent studies of kea mortality following an aerial 1080 drop have shown keas dying from 1080 poisoning. See the Kea Conservation Tust website here. One point it is always worth making is that much of the 1080 poisoning in NZ is undertaken by the animal health board in its ongoing battle with TB. A recent report states, "The combined total annual area of public conservation lands within AHB control operation boundaries in the eight regions over the period 2000/01– 2003/04 ranged from c. 250 000 to c. 460 000 ha."

But whatever way this does seem to be a big problem. Don't quote me on this, but about 1/3 of the keas habitat is under rotational TB control. Alarm bells seem to be ringing and DOC has teamed up with Landcare Research to investigate an effective bird repellent. It will be interesting to see what happens and if the planned drop in Okarito forest goes ahead.

From Shangri-La to the Tiger Leaping Gorge

Its only a couple of hours by bus from Shangri-La to Tiger Leaping Gorge, but we went the long way (although I'm sure someone could find a longer way, there is plenty of potential).

The bus was supposed to leave at 9.10, it was 9.00. The ticket lady said sales were closed, the lady at the gate said the bus had left. Out in the middle of the three lane street a suspicious looking bus was waiting at lights, "Baishutai?", the door is ripped open and we're in. Our good fortune amuses everyone and gives us a good buzz for the day. The ride to Baishutai, a silica pool sort of tourist attraction, is about 4 hours. The road rises and curves over more of China's endless hills, Penny sits biting her lips!

Arriving in Baishutai we prepare to be underwhelmed. For the first time in China touts ruin the experience, there are not enough tourists here. The attraction is pleasant but its management is shoddy. Water from a nearby stream is water-raced in to spill-over the silica and then halfway down the formation is whisked away to irrigate drops, leaving the bottom half dry and weedy. The tourist infrastructure; giant boardwalks and handrails, is broken down. People walk where they want, all over the formation. They say it is an important part of Naxi Dongba culture...so where is the respect? That said there are parts of it you can take pretty photos of.

We got out of there as quick as we could, which took us about 2 hours in a cafe eating yummy instant noodles and 2 hours sitting on the side of the road getting sold walnuts by insistent old ladies. Eventually when a van came it took us 20km down the road to the little village of Haba where we were surprised and happy to find a very nice little guesthouse called Haba Snow Mountain Inn with photos of trekking and mountaineering in the local area all over the walls. The hostess took us down to Naxi dancing that night at the village square. The big circular group dance with a verry happy feel. We had seen the dance at Shangri-La but this convinced us that it wasn't just a tourist set-up. Awesome thing to watch and see these people celebrating their lives and community

We arranged to join up with a German family that was there to hire a guide for the next day to show us up the hill. They would then all go back leaving us to explore and try and climb the mountain (they also hire ice axes and crampons...we took advantage of the former). It worked a charm. The climb up the next day with the guide and Germans took us from Haba at 2500odd to an amazingly beautiful little lake at 4100 and took us above the bushline.

On the way up one of the highlights was going past a small log cabin where a man was milking his cows, we took the opportunity to check out his pad and some of his tools.

Freed of the larger group we took off up the mountain, rising first then sidling when we could see the obvious route up a vast grey slab. We dumped Pennys pack at a group of rough and wrecked shelters which we presumed was basecamp, only to find just over a minor ridge a new basecamp with a newly completed guesthouse! Wilderness experience blown we made a bid for the top in what would be record time.

It was quick up the slab but things started to slow down when we hit ice, we were running out of time fast. The view kept beckoning out north. All the way back to Meili Snow Mountain we could see, the ridges then dropped as we panned around to the east until the sacred peaks of the Yading raised their snowy heads and the mighty 8000m Gonga Shan thrust itself into the distant skyline.

We gave up just below the big snow dome, nothing more than a plod to the summit, but it would have taken us 90minutes to the top, and broke into the bag of ginger we had saved for a special occasion since Thailand.

We then got the hell out of there, one of the most beautiful places I've ever been.

Camp that night after we had rejected the advances of the new guesthouse owners was near the ruined huts of the ghost town.

Next day was porridge for breakfast at sunrise.

We had skipped past some of the scenic highlights of the area the previous day, so decided to go back a similar way, checking out a few viewpoints and saddles and of course the gorgeous lake before descending again to Haba Snow Mountain Inn for lunch.

The ladies didn't quite know what to think when we told them we planned on walking to Tiger Leaping Gorge that day (we were either very strong or naive or both as it turned out). I was convinced we got on the right track, it was sidling around Haba Snow Mountain just where I would make it if I was making a track to sidle Haba Snow Mountain into Tiger Leaping Gorge. Then the damn thing stopped, we tried 3 dead ends having to walk numerous times past a vicious looking dog on a small fragile looking leash, which gave Penny the heebie jeebies. Daylight running out again we bolted for the road, 45 minutes down the hill and from a distance we hadn't seen a car all afternoon. 5 minutes later we were safely enconsed with some wealthy Chinese out on a tiki tour who couriered us all the way to our accomodation. Pennys chinese was impressive, there was at least a 10 line exchange, which given our lack of language learning motivation was awesome.

We completed the day by having a nice long yarn to a young couple Matt and Mary, biking from England to Australia, to begin a new life there and build their own dream backpackers on a small piece of coastal land there. And Chinese beer, particularly Dali, continues to impress with its tasty, refreshing and alcoholic qualities.