The Sands of Time...

...or something like that. Maybe the lame sand metaphor was inspired by the crunchy bits atop half a pan of hot peach crisp that Natalie and I just consumed. However, these particular sands of which I speak seem to have gone quite quickly the past couple weeks (hence the lack of recent postings or photos). Since the last installment we headed further south into Fiordlands National Park for four highly anticipated days on the Kepler Track. However, due to unusually cold temperatures (near freezing at night and snow down to 1000ft), we decided to bang it out in three days instead, using the extra time to head out to the coast and explore Milford Sound. While the Kepler was a little colder than would have been ideal, and almost in a complete whiteout for the entire day in the alpine, it was still a gorgeous walk. Inspired by an American born Aussie hitchhiker who was working in the area, we drove out to Milford Sound to see what all the fuss is about. The weather cooperated just long enough for us to have a fantastic evening on the beach, surrounded by dramatic peaks plunging into the ocean, accented by waterfalls pouring from their heights. Oh yeah, another highlight was the delicious (and free) pizza that our friend the hitchhiker served up at the only cafe at the end of the road. The next day, after being kept up half the night by screeching Kea´s (the worlds only alpine parrot), we took another of the pizza maestro´s advice and day hiked up Gertrude Saddle. While it was too cloudy to see all the way back into the sound, we still got spectacular view of the glacial carved Gertrude Valley and the snowy, glaciated peaks towering over it.

The next highlight of the trip was a stay at a hostel in Queenstown, where we were treated to not only our first showers in almost two weeks, but a soak in a spa and getting to do LAUNDRY! That´s right folks, the first laundry stop since Puerto Natales Chile, nearly two months ago. Oh how fine clean long underwear feels! Mind you, while we (semi) frequently rinsed socks and underwear in streams and lakes, its not quite the same as good old hot water and detergent. One more driving day took us up to Christchurch, the second largest city in New Zealand, located on the semiarid east coast. There, we spent a couple of days working on selling our trusty Subaru wagon, the Silver Bullet. Unfortunately, at this time of year there are about four times as many sellers as buyers. Not good. So, after spending one night with Diego, a new friend we met in the Los Angeles airport on our flight south, we left the car in the city and headed inland for what would be a fantastic final tramp to bid farewell to the backcountry of New Zealand.

The Waimakariri-Harman Pass route took us through two alpine passes and three river valleys in Arthur´s Pass National Park in the Southern Alps. While the daily mileage was not nearly as long as many of our tramps over the past months, this particular route proved both challenging and rewarding. Much of the track follwed rocky river beds and included several steep climbs up slippery, rooty, sometimes shale covered slopes, necessitating the use of hands to haul both tramper and pack up their dripping green walls. Additionally, we spent the three nights of the tramp in huts with very good company, one transplanted Swiss man, a girl from the Czech Republic, and two young and enthusiastic Germans. The second night, after climbing Harman pass and scrambling for three hours down and over boulders in the pouring rain, Natalie and I stole out of the hut with towels, chocolate, and the remaining St. Patrick´s Day whiskey to find the hidden hotsprings next to the Taipo River. After searching for only 15 minutes, we found the steaming, sulphurous pools, nearly drowned out by the swollen river. With only a little rock and shovel work, we had one pool dug out and barricaded from the fast flowing cold water--spending the next few hours soaking while the rain fell upon us.

I could continue about what made this particular tramp so enjoyable, but the final tidbit that´s worth sharing now is that we got to use a fantastic little device called a cable car to cross the Taipo River the third day. It is basically exactly what it sounds like. A little metal box attached to a cable across the river, which when released with rider inside, zooms down to the middle, high above the water. A fellow tramper then cranks away on a pulley wheel from the bank to finish the second half of the journey back up to the station on the other side. It is possible to use it solo, but appeared to be very hard to work and according to accounts in hut log books, almost left some trampers stranded in the middle.

Returning to Christchurch on the fourth night, we met back up with Diego and his friend Amandine. Much to our relief and joy, the ball and chain that the Silver Bullet had become was taken off of our hands early the next morning. This allowed us to join the two of them on a day trip to Hanmer Springs where we took a nice walk in the coniferous forest while they mountain biked (lucky bastards). After spending a couple of hours in the mist and rain, a soak in the very commerical, but still fantastic Hanmer Hotsprings finished off a great day.

We are now spending our last few days in New Zealand in and around Christchurch, exploring the coastline, saying goodbye to our new friends, and letting the experiences of the past 4.5 months soak in. I feel as though it would be appropriate to make some closing comments for what will surely be the last entry for los dos gringos en paraiso, but I realize that none of it can be summed up. In fact, we have seen so much and experienced so many places, people, foods, customs, mountains, rivers, lakes, and every space in between that I struggle to comprehend them myself or how they will shape both of our futures. On March 24th, Natalie and I will fly back to the states, back to our families and friends we have missed so much, our beds, familiar things, and summer jobs. While this journey is nearly over, its stories, memories, and pictures will surely remain longer after the jet lag has gone.