Greymouth

March 14, 2016March 28, 2016
by KandE

In 12 hours you can fly from Hong Kong to Istanbul. You can marinade a chicken breast. You can sit on your sofa and from 9am to 9pm you will have been able to binge watch the entire Star Wars series.

Or: you can walk.

You can set your alarm for 4:30 and set out with flashlights and warm socks. You can traverse through valleys of wildflowers, across cold creek beds, and up and over mountain ridges. You can do it all, filling out that 12 hour block, and still be home for dinner.

Liverpool Hut Tramp: A Timeline

6AM (Begin)
It’s dark, it’s quiet, it’s cold. We’re suited up, departing from the Raspberry Creek car park. (How quaint.)

6:30AM (30 minutes in)
The sky is beginning to lighten. In turn, we are lighthearted as the surrounding glaciers blush with a tint of pink.

7AM (1 hour in)
Cows. Lots of big, beautiful beef. Chasing them through the valleys with my camera. Yee-haw.

7:30AM (1.5 hours in)
Still cows. Add sheep. Can’t stop, won’t stop.

8AM (2 hours in)
We were forced to ford the river. No option to caulk and float. We drag our waterlogged feet onwards towards hut #1. I also start to feel a slight headache approaching.

8:30AM (2.5 hours in)
Aspiring Hut! Our first landmark! We can do this!

9:30AM (3.5 hours in)
I realize my contacts are swirling round in the wrong eyeballs. Quality of the hike much improved after a switcheroo.

10AM (4 hours in)
We’ve reached the base of the mountain. And we’re already exhausted.

11AM (5 hours in)
I hate everyone coming down. Everyone. Especially the couple bedecked in that infernally perky plaid.

11:30AM (5.5 hours in)
I hate the bloke in the bucket hat that overtakes us going UP even more.

12PM (6 hours in)
I’M IN LOVE WITH THE WORLD! LIFE IS WONDERFUL, THE UNIVERSE GRAND! WE’RE AT THE SUMMIT AT THERE’S A RAINBOW! ENDORPHINS ARE COOL! LOOK, THE HUT!

12:30PM (6.5 hours in)
It’s peanut butter jelly time, fool.

1PM (7 hours in)
But I don’t want to leave the warmth and safety of the hut! It’s dry! There’s a puzzle! Quick game of rummy with the cards on the sill? Bucket Hat is actually quite pleasant company!

1:15PM (7.25 hours in)
Fuck. How are we going to get down?

2PM (8 hours in)
Weee! It’s a jungle gym! Let’s slide down on our asses and parkour the rest.

2:30PM (8.5 hours in)
Sea level. Exhaaaale.

4PM (10 hours in)
Water bottle refill at hut #1. A couple of old chaps call us “bloody bastards” when we share with them our route. Siri has already recorded 20 miles.

4:30PM (10.5 hours in)
The cows no longer phase me.
I plow through every creek, resigned to soggy socks.

5PM (11 hours in)
The SHEEP no longer phase me.
I blitzkrieg through every pile of dung, resigned to shit caked shoes.

5:30PM (11.5 hours in)
We stagger. We stumble. “Has someone moved the car park further away while we’ve been hiking?” I’m starting to hallucinate.

5:45PM (11.75 hours in)
Our legs no longer work automatically. We manually lift, every step a struggle, as we lurch towards Paula–our oasis in this desert.

6PM (12 hours in)
i’m in love with the world. life is wonderful, the universe grand. we’re back at the van and there’s a cozy bed to rest upon. hiking is… sort of cool. look, swollen feet and open blisters. heh.

-K

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“He’s got a teardrop! That means he’s killed someone!”

^ There’s a waterfall in there. MMMMM.

^Probably one of the single greatest moments of my life. For reference, the starting point to our hike was allll the way down this valley as far as you can see, around the giant mass of mountains to the left.

^Showing off a shirt given to me by one of my coworkers before I left!
^The most scenic john in all the land

Wanaka

March 11, 2016March 27, 2016
by KandE

While the world was still asleep, my love and I had already climbed a mountain.
While New Zealand was pouring it’s first cup of coffee, we were drinking a bottle of red at the summit with a pair of new friends.

Roy’s Peak: check!

Climb highlights: hiking beneath the Milky Way & Co. Listening to Eric speak Spanish to the sheep in our path. (I preferred to address them as criminals when my torch beam caught their eye. Preferred term: perp.) Witnessing the sky shift, morning light creeping in behind the city below. Daybreak. Meeting a Czech guy and a Minnesota gal at the tippy top, bonding over the views, cheap wine, and an hour of story time. Reveling in the endorphins high, giggling, dancing, and running on the way back down.

Climb lows: let the record show that I do not, shall not, list our 3:30AM wakeup call! I was excited! The record must, however, document the minefield of fecal debris we treacherously navigated in the dark, going up. Frost was another buzz kill. Attempting to depress the camera shutter, stiff and exposed fingers fighting the motion. Violently shivering on the peak, despite snuggling up in generously offered sleeping bags. My thighs protesting the 1,500 vertical meters back to the van. Basic bitches that don’t say hi back to me on the trail.

All things considered: win! And we’re sketching out our next climb for tomorrow already.

KILLIN’ IT!

-K

^ Canoodling the afternoon before in one of the iconic picnic shelters on Lake Wanaka.

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^ I won’t lie. We only pulled out the camp chairs for a photo. We prefer to pop every window when we want air + ambiance.

^ Hike morning! It was so dark when we began, we couldn’t see a single thing.

^ We did see a tad more, however, when I took the lens cap off. I promise I’m a professional.

^ Wanaka glittering below.

^One of my favorite shots so far from this whole trip.

^Blowing hot air upon my frozen fingers.
^The view from the other side of the mountain: Mt. Aspiring National Park

^ The final stretch to the summit. Notice the patches of frost that decorate the ground.

^ Hooraaaaay! Cheers to our Czech friend who jumped in as button pusher after watching our failed attempts at a 10 second timer.

^When I said a bottle of red, I meant a water bottle. Cheap wine to keep us warm.

Wanaka

March 9, 2016March 15, 2016
by KandE

As an Aquarian, I get along best with Ares. As an INTJ, I have one of the rarest types of personalities, given to great willpower and creativity. When I grow up, being employed as a florist would best suit my skills and behaviors.

Supposedly.

In my younger years, I clung to these serious and assured revelations. Personality tests and proclamations were greedily snatched up, scrutinized, and carefully filed away. I mean, didn’t we all want to know what our sleeping style indicated about our future mates and what our Halloween costume said about our deep, secret souls? It’s part of growing up–forming and understanding our identity.

However, my problem: I’m a little bit of everything and then some. And up until now, “problem” is an apt noun for how I’ve felt about my certain set of labels. At times I feel compelled to lead, other times I’m most content quietly following at the back of the pack. My business is fairly organized, while my closet is in a perpetual state of disarray. And while I no longer care what color my aura is as a 28yo, I’m still guilty of grasping for those key words–

Compassionate.
Creative.
Superfuckingawesomeyouvegotyour – shittogethercongratulations.

My real problem is that it’s kept me from dishing up the full spectrum of my personality, attempting to tailor my labels to my audience. But you know what? Maybe I can be the kind o’ gal that lives in a van AND a respectable girlboss. Eh, eh? Perhaps these things need not be seen as mutually exclusive adventures. None of my titles and traits invalidate the rest. Maybe it’s actually an asset that I always struggle to “describe yourself in 3 words,” feeling like I’m always groping blindly, trying to grasp a YES, ALWAYS trait. My full range of characteristics need not be contradictions. (Ka-boom.)

So:

Here’s to embracing and embodying all I am, all I feel, and all I want to be.

Cheers!

-K

^ Back at Morning Magpie — my favorite coffee shop in Dunedin

^ Aha! I’ve finally managed a through-the-coffee-shop-window shot that I like!

^ Rainy days with swing bridges + city views.

^ Old photos that were accidentally buried from our Valentine’s picnic by the lake. I spent my day reading. Eric spent his carrying rocks, erecting a pathway from our van to the water. Romaaaance!

Alexandra

March 8, 2016March 10, 2016
by KandE

This is a new epoch for Paula.
We’ve entered into an uncharted era of reliable joy.

Eric is cheering for the newly installed solar panel is kicking out gorgeous watts of productivity.
I am throwing figurative confetti for the single CD this van came equipped with–Justin Bieber–is now snugly buried in the wastebasket.

Sinatra is now the soundtrack of our adventure, Ol’ Blue Eyes crooning to us as we rack up the kilometers.

-K

^ Solar installation!

^ Happy to be back in the wild. Chasing birdies on a Sunday morning at the beach.

^ That $10 bikini getting some air time. Hollaaaa.

Dunedin

March 7, 2016March 10, 2016
by KandE

Wet sand.
Crying gulls.
Fading daylight.

Eric’s hand is intertwined in my left, a generous pour of sauvignon blanc in my right. I gulp in the salty wind and sweet wine in equal measure. The beach is deserted; the world is wonderful.

And then–
Suddenly–

My love abruptly disentangles his five fingers to more wildly gesticulate, shouting to be heard above the waves. Alarmed, I followed his gaze, eyes frantically searching the horizon.

We are no longer alone on the beach.

My body is quicker than my brain. Immediately my legs engage. Wine sloshes up and over the rim of my glass as my arms pump forward, synchronized to the steps of my sprint. The chase narrows my focus, quickens my pace. Eric is no longer beside me, his path diverged, our impulses selfish, from the moment we spotted the dark, solitary figure haunting the dunes ahead.

The gap between us is closing. I will my body forward–faster. Dressed in black, top to bottom, he’s now close enough to make out his features. The whites of his eyes are yellow. I can see the sinister set of his shoulders as he poises for an attack.

He holds my gaze for two beats.
Three.
I try to control my breathing as my heart beats madly on.
Four.

“ERIC! TH-TH-THE PENGUIN! HE’S–PENGUIN!”

And the trance is broken.
The bird, shuffling his stunted limbs through the last stretch of sand, breaks his gaze, waddles behind the dunes, and disappears.

“DID YOU SEE?! THAT THING WAS ACTUALLY KIND OF NASTY. BUT, SHIT! A PENGUIN!”

NZ bucket list CHECK!

-K

^ No penguin pics, but this was a self portrait taken on THEE beach. THE PENGUIN BEACH, yah-yuh.

^ Take two. Here’s to three months with no make-up. Yippeeeeee!

Dunedin

March 5, 2016March 7, 2016
by KandE

Tonight’s menu: peanut butter and jelly sambos paired with an India pale ale. Superb! Winning! A brilliant combination! Our feet dangle out the open door at the rear, as we watch Momma Moon call the tide in for bed. It’s officially slipped into autumn but on the beach, there still blows a warm wind.

-K

^ A beautiful sunset.

^ Annnnd rewind to a gorgeous sunrise. All in one day. AW, SHUCKS!

NOT TIMARU!

March 4, 2016March 5, 2016
by KandE

I envisioned celebrating this moment by spraying champagne bubbles from atop the van, the peachy foam cascading down my bikini top in waves of joy.

For real.

I even bought a new one. A bright, cheery cross between coral and mandarin to align with the color scheme of the decor. (It was only $10. On clearance. That magical “c” word.) But instead of celebrating, we are quietly enduring. One flimsy glass of wine. Sagging sweatpants, the picture of defeat.

It’s one thing to toss around hypothetical sums in one’s head. To mentally deduct a figure from one’s bank account, 2 weeks in advance as preparation. But it’s quite another when a young girl with bottle black hair and too much eyeliner says the words seven THOUSAND sixty-one.. AND EIGHTY-SIX CENTS. Her voice is casual. Even. The same tone as if we’d just pumped $17 of diesel into the tank and could get away with sliding a single, rumpled note across the counter.

My hands tremble as I scribble out the signatures that indicate my legal approval. YES, they say! Proceed! I didn’t care about that particular portion of savings anyway! Impassively, the clerk looks on. She doesn’t get it. She must be too young. A name tag with too many redundant, cutesy consonants precludes her from true understanding. She produces the wan smile perfected by customer service employees that hate their job, and slides our 2 receipts across to us–I don’t carry a card that allows single transactions of that gargantuan size–stapled to an invoice 3 pages long.

I’m happy to have Paula back. There’s only so many times you can trick yourself into believing that the traffic outside your window is really a rolling ocean. But this does mean I’ll have to switch back to cage eggs to compensate. The bikini though–that stays. I’m only able to sacrifice so much.

-K

^ Wine for the win. Junkyard edition. Our home for the past 2 weeks. SEE YA, NEVER.

Tim.A.Ru.

March 2, 2016March 2, 2016
by KandE

Our days in this purgatory are numbered. Praaaise! The engine is going in TODAY! It’s up on the hoists NOW having the pieces reassembled! Eric and I have been teetering on the edge of the abyss, holding on to our sanity, groping for good news. As amusing as it is to be coffee shop regulars, now recognizable by the staff at Arthur St, I’m over it. Too bad we’re only a few cappuccinos away on our loyalty card to our free drink! LE SIGH. Somehow we shall live with the heavy sacrifice while we cruise down Highway 8 (TOMORROW?!?!?!?!) giving this city the finger as it disappears in the rearview.

-K

^ I’ll fess up. We sit in the same corner every damn day. And this iiiisn’t it. But THE ALLEY out back is far more photogenic. Waggles eyebrows.
^ “I’ll just get up first and peek and make sure no one is out there. Then you come with the empty cups.”

Timaru

March 1, 2016March 5, 2016
by KandE

There have been no young and handsome police officers. No quirky good deeders. No shimmering desert roads bathed in golden rays of sun. Having the van break down has been a far LESS romantic event than Hollywood would leave me to believe.

I KNEW it would happen.
And secretly: I relished the prospect.

Naive, stateside Kimberly thought, Aha! Therein lies a story to be collected! One more gold coin in the piggybank of adventurous mishaps!

However I now know those must be chocolate coins I had envisioned, wrapped in gold foil, for we drown our sorrows with cocoa powder. All of our real gold coins are sunk into a van that feels less like a treasure with each passing day.

-K

elegance is an attitude

February 27, 2016February 29, 2016
by KandE

Mirrors have become a novelty in this lifestyle and I have now had the opportunity to gaze upon my reflection THREE times since yesterday morning. This owing to the newly discovered toilets in the small strip mall by the supermarket. We’ve happily changed our bathroom loyalties from the stalls at the park, effective immediately. Still no paper towels in either, but our new potties can boast soap (FEELIN’ FANCY NOW) and mirrors. Cue the horror movie music.

One glance and I’m instantly back in a world where upstanding citizens are beholden to maintain sleek brows. I’m eyeing up my ponytail, wondering if I’ve surpassed the acceptable limit of grease. Clothing is tugged, tightened, and rearranged while I try to gauge whether this jumpsuit flatters my ass and shows too my armpit hair. It’s a personal battle every time I have to pee, and one I’ve managed to lose 3 of 3 times.

I feel sloppy. Dirty. Secretly repulsed by this underarm crusade.
I feel ugly. Inadequate. Secretly desirous of my comfortable life back in Minnesota.

But then–
OH!–

Something sort of miraculous occurs. I quit examining my exterior, I splash my face with water from the tap, and I look myself in the eyes. I square up to that reflection, I slowly smile, and inform it that elegance is an attitude. After drying my hands daintily on the legs of my pants, I exit. I give the handsome man waiting for me a whopping smack o the lips. And I tell him again how wonderful it is to be on this adventure together.

-K