riverECHO

We didn’t realize until the middle of last week that we had a 3-day weekend coming up. It was a very nice surprise but we also realized that it was going to be our last official weekend in Queenstown . . . at least during this trip to New Zealand. We also didn’t have many options as three of the four roads leading out of town would be covered in snow and our desire to camp out in the single digits (that’s Celsius by the way) was overruled by our softening habits. So instead, we planned out a few local bike rides and spent the mornings reading as we waited for the clear air to warm up. Funny enough, we’ve actually hit every biking trail that we know of in the Queenstown area. Looking at the map this weekend, we searched the edges to find a couple that we still had yet to ride. A few of our favorites were out of the question as the snow slowly crept down the mountain side during most of last week. But we settled on a ride up to Lake Dispute along the road to Glenorchy and a ride out to Macetown, just upriver from Arrowtown.

The first ride out to Lake Dispute was slightly muddy, requiring a few more walking sections than normal, but lead out to a very quiet and serene lake that sits in a valley between Mt. Crichton and Mt. Ben Lomond. We only ran into one other group who found our loud conversation, about why anyone would “dispute” the lake, quite amusing. The downhill was a combination of cruisy singletrack, switchbacks, and wide sections covered in babyheads, but all in all a fun ride.

Our second ride turned into three short rides. The trail to Macetown follows the Arrow River for a couple hours, crossing it on twelve different occasions. We figured a clear sunny day, although cold, would be a great day for this particular trail. But we failed to remember that Arrowtown is situated perfectly to the south of a small mountain range, which blocks out a majority of the winter sun. Crossing the rushing Arrow River in the shade all of a sudden seemed much less desirable. So we ventured out as far as we could to the first crossing, looked at how deep we would be wading to cross it and at the snowy peaks in the distance, laughed at ourselves, and quickly turned around. Back at the car we turned toward the Chinese Settlement and continued out a road that led to a trail up and over a mountain to Macetown. We figured we might hit a little snow at the summit but it was better than hypothermia. We reached the trailhead and found a sign that said “Track crosses private land. No bikes.” Our chances of getting caught were pretty slim but we played by the rules and turned around . . . once again. Back at the car we rode over to the small skate park and played on a couple little jumps which warmed our freezing fingers and toes right up. We finally settled on the rolling and wide river side Millennium trail. It was busy with strollers and dogs but still a nice leisurely ride.

With most of our afternoon still open, we decided to give our bikes some very overdue cleaning attention. Our patio, where we normally clean our bikes, is now shaded for most of the day so after spraying them off, we loaded them back into the car and drove to a sunny park in Frankton to give them a thorough clean. We had two little boys, probably no older than ten, approach us asking if we could fix their seat height. We should have put up a sign for our temporary bike shop.

Today is Tuesday and our last day on this long weekend which we’ll be spending giving the house a deep clean. BJ and I move out next weekend and Steve moves out not too long thereafter but today is the only day we all have together to pitch in some elbow grease. Looking at the frost covered deck and neighboring rooftops on this fine fall day, it may not be so bad to spend the day inside . . . cleaning.

Unlike last week at the winery, my work this week has been almost therapeutic. I spent two afternoons in the small vineyard located next to the winery. It’s the only vineyard that the winery has in Gibbston Valley as the rest are located just down the road in Cromwell, in a more open landscape with typically warmer temperatures. It is also the only Riesling vineyard in Gibbston all together. Because of the cooler weather that has hit Queenstown this summer, my job involved thinning out the vines, leaving only one bunch of grapes on each stalk where usually three or four bunches grow. Once the fruit actually ripens, my work this week will hopefully result in fewer but better grapes. Although a bit tedious . . . snip, snip, snip . . . I have really enjoyed being in the vineyard. When my back started to hurt from bending over the whole time, I just sat in the dirt and scoooched down the row instead.

We returned with our mountain bikes to Fernhill Loop on Tuesday afternoon. This time we completed the entire loop, which was quite a bit longer than we expected, involving a handful of hike-a-bike sections. But when we reached the top, we were overlooking Queenstown and the lake in the evening light. Not all of the descent was rideable but it was a long one and well worth it. Once again we found ourselves in a few really dark sections of forest, making it feel like much later in the evening. The trail spits out at a terrain park with huge jumps and high bridges. While we didn’t attempt anything big, BJ got some air on the sections of trail that went around the really big features.

Instead of going for a bike ride yesterday evening we went out to dinner . . . an equally toning and energy boosting feat, right? We modestly ordered two sushi rolls because we weren’t that hungry, but we had our work cut out for us when the unagi roll was delivered. It was by far the largest sushi roll I have ever eaten. Normally you can’t distinguish the shape of the creature that you are eating at a sushi restaurant, but this time it was as if they sliced the poor guy in half, dipped it in some sauce, and laid it on top of our roll. Delicious, but quite a mouth full.

As a side note, I had a first real wave of missing our not-so-itty-bitty-kitty back home this week. We were eating ice cream one evening on the couch and I had a vision of Salsa sitting somewhat patiently next to me, watching my spoon during every bite, and occasionally making a gentle swipe at it. Ice cream, along with Ritz crackers which Jean recently informed us about, is his favorite food. Here is a photo Shannon sent me from a night that Salsa slept over at their house. He was most comfortable in their bathroom sink apparently.

I know this sounds a bit morbid, but on my dad and Fran’s last day in Queenstown we spent the better part of the morning googling “When will I die?” Fran had been amazed at BJ’s ability to simply ask Google a question and find an answer, so she tried to come up with a really difficult question (and one she thought very useful). After two hours, we had submitted answers on questionnaires on a few different websites and learned that both Fran and I, simply because we are women who do not smoke, will probably live to be about 100. BJ and my dad, because of their family history and simply because they are men, are going to leave us, the two women in the room, lonely during our final years. We were able to find quite a bit of humor in our fortunes as Fran, who is usually on one sort of diet or another and who was appalled at the idea of living to 100 years, found that if she actually gained a few pounds would die earlier.

Once we were satisfied (or unsatisfied) with our fortunes, as told by Google, we ventured out into another rainy day for a brief wine tour of Gibbston Valley. Since it was Sunday, Mount Edward’s Winery was closed so we settled for a cheese and wine sampler at Gibbston Valley Wines. BJ and I practiced our wine tasting skills and all agreed that we needed some coffee to turn around our late afternoon sleepy wine heads. We headed into downtown Queenstown for some cappuccinos and a movie . . . Slumdog Millionaire. It was by far (and I’m sure I’ve said this before but this time I mean it) the best movie I have seen this year. The cinematography was brilliant, in both color and style. It moved so quickly, jumping from scene to scene, that it almost gave me the feeling of being in India. It was a really creative way to share a story about Indian life in the slums.

After the movie, we spent a “Last Night in Queenstown” dinner at the Fishbone where we continued to laugh about certain scenes from the movie and reminisced with my dad and Fran about their entire trip. They saw the most of New Zealand you could possible see in a month’s time and loved every minute of it. I felt like our time together flew by. We were busy bouncing to the West Coast and to Milford Sound, but had an unexpected blessing with a chunk of rainy days in the end where we could all relax together in Queenstown. I think they truly enjoyed a bit of time to relax while they were on vacation.

We dropped my dad and Fran off at the bus station yesterday morning so they could bus back to Christchurch before flying back to San Francisco and joined Ali and Steve last night for yet another movie . . . The World’s Fastest Indian, a great film about a kiwi whose love for going fast on his Indian motorcycle takes him from Invercargill, New Zealand to the salt flats of Utah. Something about Anthony Hopkins’ character reminded me immediately of my dad, whether it was his love for engines, his white hair, or his mannerisms. After the movie and before going to bed I had a sudden wave of missing my dad and I burst into tears. Despite spending the last week and a half with him, I feel like we never truly had a chance to catch up and I had this regretful feeling that if we continue on with our travels, I may not see him for a long time. While they were here, we had briefly discussed meeting up again with them . . . and maybe even in India. So Dad, we’ll just have to make it happen!

By now I would assume most of the world is aware of the fires that have been engulfing Australia, the largest fires in their history, having killed 130 people! Yesterday we experienced their magnitude when we woke up to an orange haze, the haze that back home I associate with a fire. It had us perplexed for a while as we tried to think of what was west of us . . . mountains covered in rainforest, the rainiest place in New Zealand, and the ocean. It was hard to imagine a fire taking place in any of these very wet places. But across the ocean a ways . . . Australia . . . of course.

The eerie apocalyptic sky set the tone for the day for us. Our plans for a big bike ride turned into a morning of drinking lots of coffee, cooking a huge breakfast (eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and onion covered in puff pastry), and reading on the couch. BJ’s quote of the day, which almost won as the title of this blog: “I love drinking coffee and doing nothing.” That pretty much sums it up. We finally dragged ourselves out of the house, went on a 30 minute bike ride, half of which was up a paved road near Coronet Peak, and then drove to Arrowtown to spend a couple hours reading and napping in a park under a tree under an orange sky, followed by our classic kiwi date . . . dinner and a mooooovie. This time, however, we didn’t watch the typical blockbuster. Waltz with Bashir, an animated portrayal of an Israeli soldier’s memory (or loss of memory) of the Lebanon War in the early 1980s, is one of the most unique and powerful films I have seen. Based on the dreamlike memories that he has, and those that he discovers through interviews of fellow soldiers, it seems only fitting that the film would be animated. We quickly drove home to look up a map and details on the war.

The orange skies had moved on from Queenstown today and we woke up with a bit more energy. We still spent a little time with coffee, breakfast, and books on the couch, but sooner than later got antsy and headed out to a place called Moke Lake for a bike ride. Despite the encroaching dark rain clouds, we set out anyways along a dirt road that wrapped around the backside of Ben Lomond Peak, which shadows Queenstown. The road eventually meets up with singletrack along the Moonlight Track. We had some hellish climbs and fast descents along the road but were clearly enjoying worrying the sheep, the lack of people, the historic feeling of riding along an old mining road, and the incredible views over the valley that dropped off from the road. On our way back to the car, BJ got an idea in his head (or maybe his belly) of a Fergburger, a famous burger joint in downtown Queenstown that we had yet to experience. I pictured Homer (BJ) sleepwalking (riding a bike) to the fridge (Queenstown) with a thought bubble of beer (big juicy burger) above his head. We tried the burger kiwi style by asking for a topping of sliced beets and, of course, a side of chips (fries). It was a delicious Monday afternoon in New Zealand.

This was the first week, since we arrived in New Zealand two months ago, that I would classify as a “typical” week for us. We returned from a weekend away . . . in this scenario, hiking the Kepler Track. We’ve worked a regular schedule from Tuesday through Saturday . . . one day of which we spent in a very busy internet café in town as our house had its quarterly inspection. I spent two afternoons volunteering . . . in this case, tasting samples I had pulled last week and pulling new samples from lots that still need sulfur. We cooked at home every night . . . chicken tikki masala, pasta with garlic, mushrooms, and homemade rolls, pasta with recently killed venison from our roommate Steve, and grilled chicken salad. And yesterday afternoon, we went on our first ride on our new-to-us mountain bikes. I guess this last activity isn’t so “typical” for us down here, but because we spend so many summer afternoons at home in Victor biking, it is in fact very “typical.” The part about the ride that was atypical was that I took a huge digger within the first 20 minutes of the ride. Let’s hope taking diggers like that one do not become the norm for me.

Here’s a kiwi lesson for the week: Although they may drive on the left side of the road, they certainly don’t have any rules about walking to the left. BJ and I have tried to fit in by making a point of veering left while walking on a sidewalk or passing someone in the grocery store. In our efforts to act like the Kiwis and walk left, we have been faced with sidewalk standoffs and confusing moments. I wouldn’t say this really bothers me, since the solution is easy . . . veering right, but it confuses me. I’ll report back with findings for next week’s research project . . . walking right!

On another note . . . my dad and Fran just arrived in the country. They are travelling around the north island for a couple weeks before joining us in Queenstown. Welcome to New Zealand!

We started our weekend on Saturday afternoon with a good session of rugby. The Rugby Sevens is a national tournament where all the national teams have a chance to play each other for only seven minute halves. This year the tournament was held in Queenstown and just happened to land on our roommate’s birthday. Ali and Steve were already with a crowd of friends at the rugby field and Steve was already well on his way to a good sunburn and hangover the following morning. Saturday was also Alan and Lily’s last night in Queenstown, and all of New Zealand, before flying to Australia. We met up with them at the entrance to the Rugby Sevens and spent the afternoon drinking Speights (which they only sold in 6-packs at the games), eating sausage rolls (a sausage served in a slice of regular sandwich bread), and trying to understand the rules of the game. For their final evening in town we went out to dinner at The Cow, a small pizza restaurant that we have become very fond of, and out for a mandatory-last-night-in-Queenstown-dessert at Patagonia Chocolates, another favorite. Thanks for spending the day with us Alan and Lily and have a great time in Australia. After saying goodbye to them, we made our way to Monty’s where we were supposed to meet Steve and Ali for the rest of the evening of birthday fun. There was no sign of them and we quickly found out that the birthday boy decided to call it a night a little early. We were bummed to have missed him but decided to enjoy some local beats by the band Pass the Sauce before making our way home.

We’ve spent the majority of our weekends and time off in New Zealand exploring the country’s trails by foot. This changed on Sunday afternoon. Coronet Peak, a local ski area, maintains a few downhill mountain biking trails with lift access and although neither one of us had ever been on an official downhill bike* (despite BJ’s very skilled past on a motorcross bike), we decided to rent downhill bikes and spend the evening playing on the trails. (For those who need a little explanation: a downhill bike differs from a cross-country bike (what we ride back in Idaho) in that the center of balance is slightly farther back, the shocks are much larger, and it is very difficult if not impossible to actually ride a downhill bike up a hill.) Although we’ve been relatively dedicated bikers for the last few summers, it took a couple runs of slowing down through the banked turns and rolling over the small jumps to really feel stable again. And then we couldn’t get enough of it . . . gaining speed in the turns, going fast, and jumping (well I only hit the small ones). By the final lap, our butts were sore and our hands and forearms were cramping. But damn it was fun. Still grinning and giddy, we met Steve and Ali in Arrowtown for dinner at the New Orleans Hotel. They had been graciously waiting for us for an hour and were excited to see us so we could all finally order. Once we returned home, BJ quickly hopped on the computer to check the latest bike listings on trademe.co.nz (basically an ebay for New Zealand) while the three of us watched a classic . . . The Lost Boys.

Today, Monday, was the perfect Sunday. We slept in (although it’s very unlike us, I am really starting to enjoy this habit), looked at more bikes online, went for a short hike that overlooks the Shotover River, and played some frisbee by the lake. The Shotover River (or as Gretchen likes to call it, the Shootover) is a hub for many adrenaline seeking visitors. We didn’t realize our hike would be overlooking some of these activities. We watched a handful of people doing a giant canyon swing and watched a jet boat do 360s through tight canyon walls . . . see for yourself.

After wrapping up a work day on Saturday, we popped over to the Queenstown Events Centre, an outdoor venue for cricket and concerts, for the first annual Peak Music Festival. The festival featured a few local bands like dDub and Salmonella Dub, a popular Kiwi band called Kora, British DJs the Utah Saints, and headliner Ministry of Sound. We heard news around 6pm that the Ministry of Sound was still in London and Utah Saints would be appointed the new headliner. Oh well. In the end, we both agreed that the two local bands, dDub and Salmonella Dub, were by far our favorite and perhaps we should have saved the cash and just seen them at a local bar. A majority of the music we have found down here seems to be electronic and Salmonella Dub, with acoustic guitar and bongos, was a live version of what you would normally hear a DJ spinning at a club. They had a lot of energy on stage and we look forward to seeing them live again.

We got a late start on Sunday. Sleeping in to 10am is a rare occurrence for the two of us but with such long days, we hardly noticed. We spent a leisurely morning at home and headed into town around noon for a hike that we have been talking about since we arrived in Queenstown. Ben Lomond peak sits about 4,500 feet above Queenstown, offering views that overlook ALL surrounding mountains. Although a popular trail, we hit it on a beautiful day and enjoyed a late lunch on the peak looking out over Lake Wakatipu and the Remarkables.

Probably the highlight of our weekend in Queenstown was a somewhat unexpected visit from two very close family friends. Alan and Lili Penkower have known my dad since the 60s and are very much a part of our family. Their son, Jonathan, spent quite a bit of time living and working in Queenstown about ten years ago and they have been planning a trip down here ever sense. It was a pleasure to show them around during their first visit to Queenstown. We met up with them right before lunch and didn’t stop talking and catching up until we said goodnight just before midnight. We were only able to squeeze out a few stories from them involving my dad and some sort of riot or political march. We had quite a full day as well . . .we went to lunch at Brazz, took a stroll through the Queenstown Gardens, visited the Chinese Settlement in Arrowtown immediately followed by a delicious ice cream cone dipped in chocolate, and after a quick visit to our house, we spent the remainder of the evening enjoying dinner at Fish Bone. They are spending the next few days in the Milford Sound and we will hopefully be able to see them off on their way back through this weekend.

The rain settled in Queenstown during the afternoon on New Year’s Eve and we quickly altered our plans to head downtown for a series of outdoor concerts and fireworks to spend an evening of apps, Indian food, and wine at the house with Gretchen, Brad, Steve, Ali, and some family friends of theirs from the UK. But as the rain lightened around 10pm Gretchen, Brad, and the two of us quickly changed our minds and decided to ring in the New Year in downtown Queenstown under a small display of fireworks. We arrived in town an hour later only to feel the rain start to pour down again. Luckily we found a semi-broken umbrella in a trash can and walked to the nearest pub that wasn’t charging a hefty cover fee. We never actually heard anyone start the countdown but when the fireworks started we knew it had struck midnight and we scurried outside to celebrate with the rest of New Zealand.

On New Year’s Day, we said goodbye to Gretchen and Brad until we see them back in Jackson. It’s been so much fun sharing and laughing about our first experiences and adventures in New Zealand and we will surely miss their company. We pulled out of the car park at the same time. They headed to Dunedin and up the east coast to Christchurch to fly home in a little over a week. We drove north towards Mt. Cook to spend a day under the shadow of the tallest mountain in all of Australasia. The forecast warned us that it would be “Fine during the day with rain developing in the evening.” We have learned to pretty much ignore the weather forecast down here, plan for rain, be glad if it is fine (what they refer to as sunny, partly cloudy, warm-ish), and assume if it is fine that it will probably rain sooner than later. It is still technically spring here and very much like home in that sense.

We arrived in Mt. Cook Village to beautiful views of a cloud covered Mt. Sefton and the Footstool Glacier and the sunlit peaks of Mt. Cook, which towers over the valley at 12,313 feet. The Hooker Valley sits at 2,400 feet making the climb to the top of the snow and glacier covered Mount Cook look like quite a feat. The mountain has actually already claimed three lives just this spring. The wind was already starting to howl through the campsite and we decided to set up our tent in a somewhat protected grove of tall pine trees. We made several attempts to heat up our Indian leftovers as the wind kept blowing the flame out, even after we built a barricade with water bottles, bags, and our own bodies. After a luke warm meal, we contemplated escaping the cold wind and retreating to the tent to play cards. But the skies were still very light and realizing we were just 1k from a café, we hopped in the car and drove down the road to the Old Mountaineer’s Café to enjoy two pints that came with complimentary warmth and stunning views of Mt. Cook. Our night back in the tent was a bit more interesting. We fell asleep after a mean game of gin rummy and at about 1am awoke to our tent collapsing in on us as stronger and stronger gusts blazed through the camp. The tent would spring back to its normal shape and then collapse in on us again with the next gust. Like the fear of bears sometimes overwhelms us in the Tetons, we were suddenly overwhelmed with visions of our tent ripping and of pine boughs breaking off and crushing our tent . . . like I said we found a protected site under the only tall trees in camp . . . good one. Our car was only about 100 meters from our tent so as I stayed put to keep the tent weighted down, BJ made three trips to the car with all of our stuff. We waited until there was a lull in the wind and very quickly disassembled the tent and scurried to the car under, of course, crystal clear skies . . . the most stars I have seen in days. Other than waking up a few times to the car rocking in the wind, we enjoyed a very nice slumber in the back of the car. The morning brought rain and after coffee and a huge bowl of oatmeal, we told Mt. Cook we would see it soon, and started to drive back to Queenstown. Although a quick trip to the mountain, less than 24 hours, we do hope to return and do a bit of tramping with our parents this summer.

On the drive home we were nicely surprised with blue skies and took a quick detour to a mini Bryce-like formation in the side of a hill called the Clay Cliffs. The rain caught up with us again and we continued down the road with plans to enjoy a great rainy day activity . . . wine tasting. There are two wine regions just outside of Queenstown, Gibbston Valley and Cromwell , and both are well known for their pinot noir varieties. We sampled a few in the Gibbston Valley at Peregrine Winery as well as at Gibbston Valley Winery, which also had a cheesery . . . yum. We of course planned our dinner of homemade pasta and salad to go specifically with a bottle of Peregrine Chardonnay and Gibbston Valley aged goat cheese.

It is very bazaar spending the week before Christmas in a place where the days are sunny, warm and light until after 10pm. This year we won’t be anticipating a white Christmas, seeing family, wrapping gifts, or eating hoards of food for days on end. Our roommate Ali decorated a small Christmas tree las t week but it actually surprises me every time I look at it. It doesn’t feel like Christmas at all. I feel spoiled that we were able to spend so much time with family and friends this year before we left and we’ll miss our annual visits to Buhl, Boise, Tempe, Sonoma, and San Francisco (where the rest of our family will be over the holiday). But we look forward to all of our visitors this coming spring…my dad and Fran in February, my mom and Steve in March, and BJ’s mom in April. This year we will be spending the holiday camping near the Milford Sound and on the Routeburn track with Brad and Gretchen. Instead of packing up gifts, we’ll be packing trail mix, chocolate bars, and freeze dried dinners.

We’ve been enjoying the late light nights in Queenstown, but last night we spent those light evening hours in two very dark places. We hopped in the car at 5pm and drove to Arrowtown, a funky little town about 10 minutes from Queenstown. After a short walk along a lupine-lined river’s edge we moseyed to the far corner of an underground bar we took note of a few days before. The bar, more like a wine cellar, served food from a neighboring restaurant and local beer and wine. The walls were finished with rough stone and mortar and lined with long stone benches covered with rugs and pillows. The décor included heavy leather chairs, overturned wine barrels as tables, and just enough candle light to notice the cobwebs in the corners. We ate a delicious lamb, mushroom, and blue cheese pizza and wet our palates with Montieth’s beer.

After dinner we ordered two coffees from the corner bakery and walked upstairs to the cinema where we had tickets to the evening showing of an indy film called “The Visitor.” The lobby of the cinema is part bookstore, part café, part wine bar. We’ll probably just come back to hang out in the lobby if nothing is playing. We were ushered into “the den” with one other person and had our selection of a huge velour sofa and a handful of comfy chairs. Worried we may fall asleep if we snuggled up on the couch, we chose two chairs in the front row. By the time we left the cinema the sun had set but the sky was still light. For those of you who are coming to visit us, I am sure we will be returning to the cinema in Arrowtown.

Our roommate Steve showed us this YouTube cartoon and we couldn’t help ourselves from sharing it with all of you. For those of you who are coming to visit us, this will give you some good vocab words to practice before you arrive. See notes below for translation.

Chup = Potato Chip
Bru = Bro or Friend
Beached As = Really Beached
Heaps Beached As = Really Really Beached

On another note, we’ve been continuing to enjoy Queenstown. I don’t think the views from our deck will ever get old. We ventured into town a couple evenings ago to meet up with Brad and Gretchen for dinner. There were dark clouds looming overhead when we left and although we packed our rain jackets, the clouds let loose about half way to town. We showed up at Dux-d-Lux, a local brewery, completely soaked. We still haven’t succumbed to buying umbrellas. Thankfully they found a table by a fireplace and we spent the next hour rotating in front of the heat, trying to dry off. We ate at a delicious pizza joint in town called The Cow, located down a dark ally, which we of course followed up with a visit to Patagonia Chocolates for some hot chocolate and ice cream.

We spent last night at home with our roomies, cooking an Indian dinner and then watching a British classic and one of their favorite movies, Hot Fuzz. After taking Ali to work today, Steve took us up to the Remarkables, the jagged mountain range that we stare at every morning from our deck. He has wanted to hike up to Lake Alta ever since he moved to Queenstown and we were excited to join him. A treacherous drive up the mountains leads to the Remarkable Ski Field. We hiked from the ski area up to Lake Alta which sits at the base of the Remarkables. We, of course, checked out the ski resort as well. The lift accessible ski runs seem pretty flat compared to what we are used to, but there seems to be a ton of steeper shots if you’re willing to hike a little. But winter won’t be here for another 6 month so we’ll enjoy the hiking trails while we can.