Kaikoura

Another quick picture post! Kaikoura (made of up the Maori "kai" meaning "food," and "koura," meaning something like "of the sea") is famous for it's wildlife and, oddly enough, it's seafood. There's a HUGE ocean trench right off shore which they call the Whale Highway, along with a coral reef sort of thing, that all comes together to create a GREAT place for whales, dolphins, seals, sea lions, fish, turtles, and all kinds of stuff!

And I went on a whale watch! It was AWESOME, and we saw FOUR sperm whales! For those of you that don't know, that's effing rare.



Whale tail!

Mt. Cook

I made it up to Mt. Cook after Queenstown, and it was pretty amazing. I had a cold (and honestly I was still a bit sore from my scaling of Ben Lomond) so I didn't try any of the walks, but I DID get to see the Sir Edmund Hillary museum, which was super cool! Mt. Cook is the tallest mountain in NZ, and it's what Sir Ed practiced on for Everest.

"It is an act of worship just to sit and look at a high mountain"
-Sir Edmund Hillary

Part of the memorial to all the climbers who have died in the attempt.


Me and the man himself, life size. I ALMOST measure up.

The sun hitting the mountain range the morning we left.

Milford Sound

Alright, here are a couple of picture posts of the last few things I did before I got back up to Auckland! First, Milford Sound. Which is actually a misnomer, as a sound is a riverbed that the sea has eventually flooded. It's ACTUALLY a fjord, which is a part of the sea that's had land raised up through it. *pushes nose bridge of dorky glasses*

HERE WE GO

There's no way to show the scale of this place. Just imagine craning your neck up and STILL not being able to see the top very well.


There are so many waterfalls!

Here's the bottom of one...


Here's the famous Miter Peak, which is apparently the most photographed mountain in New Zealand!
Just. Beautiful.

Going North

“I love the road, and I’ve been blessed, but I love you best!”
-Caroline, by Brandi Carlile

Guys, I’m coming home! I’ve changed my plane ticket to May 10th, so I’ll be back in about a week and a half! First, let me just say, I’m really excited about this.

But I also feel compelled to explain my reasoning a bit. Which is lame, ‘cause I shouldn’t have to explain a desire to come home after traveling for three and a half months, but because my visa is valid for a year, and because I’ve met so many people who have been on the road for many more months, and some even years, I feel like I should explain.

When I first set out, I told everyone I didn’t know how long I’d be gone, but it’d probably be between six months and a year. The reason I had no idea what the time frame would be was because I had no idea what I was looking for, or where I’d end up, or what I’d be doing. The reality of it is that, as much as I love the road and feel its call pretty constantly, it’s also pretty hard to be packing your bags and moving on every day, especially alone, and I’ve come to really respect people who do it for a living. But my reasons for coming back aren’t based in my travel fatigue, so much as in the following:

1) Money, cost of living and timeframe – Guys, it is WICKED expensive to live in this country. You have to budget 10 to 15 dollars per meal even to just get something small (even a cheeseburger value meal at McDonalds is $8), at least $25 for a paperback book, $2.50 or so for a small candy bar… you get the idea. So just living and paying for food and accommodation will deplete your wallet pretty fast, even WITH the exchange rate (which is going downhill pretty fast), and if you add any activities on to that, well… The long and short of it is that I worked like a dog at two jobs in the States for six months, and that amount of money lasted me three in NZ. I planned on getting a couple of jobs here, and I did, but earning minimum wage is not enough to fund travel. It’s enough to get you food and lodging if you’re working full time, but that’s pretty much it. In order to make enough money to travel around some more I’d have to work like a dog here for another six months, and I’m just not prepared to do that because

2) just like I felt the call out here, I’m now feeling the call home. There are things I’ve wanted to accomplish, and I HAVE done 3/4ths of them (or will by the time I set food in the States again), and there are things I couldn’t have expected, and they’ve changed me. All travel changes you, if you let it, but quests and pilgrimages like this one are especially prone to revelation and rebirth. Because I feel changed, and like I’ve gained a lot from what I’ve done and learned here, I feel like this trip has fulfilled its purpose. It’s as simple as that, and yet I can’t explain exactly what those changes are and exactly what I HAVE learned partly because they are too personal to make real for someone else, and partially because I don’t know yet fully what the end result is or will be.

Does that make sense? Probably not. But if you end up in deep conversation with me when I come back, as I know those of you who I’m closest with most definitely will, I’ll be able to explain a bit better. I’ve had layers of my dragon skin pealed away; I’ve faced several challenges, mental, physical and spiritual, and come out on top; I’ve rediscovered a self that I haven’t seen hide or hair of since I was young, and while I still have a ways to go on one issue that I’m currently dealing with, I feel stronger than I have in years.

But even when I come home, my journey isn’t over. First of all, homecoming is just as much a part of the quest as leaving it. Arnold van Gennep, one of anthropology’s founding fathers, said that any rite of passage or pilgrimage is made up of separation, ordeal and reintegration. So I’ve still got one stage left, at least! Secondly, what a lot of travel will make you realize is that whether you’re in your own country or half-way across the world, there are pilgrimages to make, mountains to climb, things to discover… The fortunate or unfortunate thing about this truth is that it often TAKES a trip to the ends of the earth to realize this. And I think that’s ok, because at least in my case, I always want to see what’s over the next hill, even if it IS just as cool as what’s in my backyard.

Anyway. The gist of all this is that I’m coming home. And I’m excited about it!

I’m excited for late spring/early summer. I’m excited to be in tune with the seasons again. I’m excited for services at St. John’s. I’m excited for high tops, having more than three changes of clothes, having a room of my own to lie down in at night, space to do yoga, cheaper food (especially chocolate!), maple trees, being able to sing at the top of my lungs in my car, driving down the stretch of highway 19 between I35 and Northfield, FREE INTERNET, constant access to a library, hearing Maddie making the whole house loud, bubble baths, sitting and taking with mom and Lance before bed, seeing the sunrise out my East window in the morning and falling asleep in the glow of the streetlight at night, sitting and being slightly frustrated with sitting while listening to Gabe muck around with a guitar, giggling like mad with my sisters when dad says something particularly hilarious, moving my chickens back into the yard for the summer (if they haven’t been moved already!), having more control over what and when I eat and exercise, being able to do laundry WHENEVER I WANT, walking in the arb, biking around with my ipod on, going to the Co-op, being able to talk to people on the phone, going camping with my new tent (I plan to do that a lot this summer!), eating breakfast in the sunny kitchen, ETC ETC

I’m excited. Can you tell? But don’t worry, there will be a long list of things I’ll miss about New Zealand coming soon. And also updates with things like the Fjordlands, Mt. Cook and Kaikoura. :-)

The Moments

“For the pilgrim, the traveler with a deep purpose, this is the moment of truth, when the search for the real takes you to a place that pierces your heart.”

-The Art Of Pilgrimage

These are the moments that have pierced mine:

The afternoon I went hiking in Tongariro National Park, and spent hours sauntering, then running, then climbing through the thickest greenery I’d ever seen. With my green shirt and camo shorts I felt like I became part of the forest, whipping through the trees with my pack light on my shoulders, ears following the sound of trickling streams, eyes pealed for the birds that flew kamikaze fashion across the path in front of me. Every moment was pure joy, every straining muscle was a song of thankfulness, every touch of the plants on my skin as I passed was a blessing.

The moment I walked into the white church in Dannevirke and sat down in a pew, listening to the music and the prayers of the people for the first time in what seemed like ages. I felt so far from home, and yet here, on the other side of the world, my heart recognized a similarity, and for a moment the pain of distance and the comfort of the familiar washed over me and left me unable to stop crying. I spent the whole service in tears, as waves of emotion rolled over me and smashed me into the bedrock of who and what I am; a soul bound in flesh, who aches to shed the barriers of skin and bone and join a greater chorus. It wasn’t sadness, and it wasn’t happiness. It was a coming home.

The day I decided to climb Ben Lomond I faced another layer of what I’ve come to call my “dragon skin.” On the hill up to the start of the path I thought “wow, this is rough. Maybe I won’t go all the way to the top.” On the first few miles of the trail through birch forest, with my Achilles tendons feeling like they were about to snap, I thought “maybe I’ll just go up to the tree line.” After I broke out of the forest and into the sunlight with miniscule snowflakes falling down around me I stopped to marvel, and to have lunch, and thought “maybe I’ll just go back after I’m done eating.” But I didn’t. These negative “I can’t do it” thoughts haunted me all the way up that mountain. Every time I’d get to a point when I had to just stop and breathe, I’d look up and convince myself that I was just going to go a little farther, just to that next hill, just to that next boulder, just to that next turn in the path. Finally I made it to Ben Lomond Saddle, the base of the mountain’s tip, the place I told myself I’d be proud of if I could just make it there. And then I looked up and saw how close the top was, and looked down at my exhausted body, my bruised knees and blistered feet and said “I can’t go back now.” I forced myself up that last precipice, occasionally scaling it with my hands and feet because the boulders and the incline wouldn’t let you up any other way, but up I went. The moment when I finally touched the cairn at the top and looked around, breathless, I felt like time stopped. I’d done it. My heart felt like it might stutter to a halt at any moment, I felt like I’d been run over by a truck, but my mind was flying out over the endless expanse that spread out below me. I threw my fear, my doubt and my pain off the top of that mountain, and I came down clean.

Wander Lonely Through The Woods

Brandi Carlile - Have You Ever

Have you ever wandered lonely through the woods?
And everything there feels just as it should.
You're part of the life there,
You're part of something good;
If you've ever wandered lonely through the woods.

Have you ever stared into a starry sky?
Lying on your back you're asking why
What's the purpose, I wonder who am I;
If you've ever stared into a starry sky.

Have you ever been out walking in the snow?
Tried to get back where you were before,
You always end up not knowing where to go;
If you've ever been out walking in the snow.

If you'd ever been out walking you would know.

Ben Lomond

Just a quick post with pictures from the mountain I climbed yesterday. The memory of doing this is going to stick with me. There were three separate times when I sat down and thought "I don't think I can do this. I think I have to turn around." But I didn't. I got to the top of the highest point in the area. It was a pretty intense experience.

The path up once I broke the treeline. That's Ben Lomond. Ufda.


Got to a bit of a plateau...


There's Queenstown, waaaaaay down there! And here's my typical "I don't know what I should be doing in this picture" face.


Two thirds of the way up, and I've still got the worst part ahead of me:



But I did it! Here's the cairn at the top to prove it!

And here's one of the views from the top. I'll show you more when I get home! :-)