Aspiring Cook...

Yeah..."we'll see how much of that actually takes place" was a gr8 disclaimer...I've settled quite comfortably in Wanaka. I've been using it as a base for several tramps that pulled me into the wild. Mt. Cook Village is quite a drab little town with very little color, literally and figuratively, but the enormous mountain range that postures itself with confidence and class in the thundering background is a thing at which I could never tire myself looking. As you sit with a neck ache you feel yourself idolizing a 3 faced rock that has managed to crush itself to the astronomical altitude of 3700+ meters. I glance at it as I hitch, as I climb, as I scramble, as I munch, as I 4get myself and then a sound of thunder rolls through its glacial surroundings and I suddenly realize that there's an avalanche right before my eyes; ice spilling over a cliff that formed itself of the very descending element. There as common to hear as it is to see a cloud. As much as it sounds like the thunder that follows crack-bolt lighting in Wyoming it is only another of nature's wondrous processes that humbles you without your consent, then I bow my head in w8 4 the next vehicle.

I was actually at Mt. Cook twice; once just after having updated the blog and twice just recently. The first began with an intended trip to Queenstown for a couple days; I didn't even get out of the parking lot of the hostel before my mind was swiftly changed to head to Mt. Cook. An Israeli had a car and told me he was heading that way..."why not" I thought and threw my pack in his trunk, hit the grocery store and was off to 2 beautiful days of hiking up to Mueller Hut that sits so high up with gr8 views of mtns. from every angle. I scrambled up bolders to Mt. Ollivier and followed a ridge of jagged, exposed rock and pulled off the daypack to use for a pillow and just sat, soaked, and swam in solitude's silence with surrendered solace of the Southern Alps; the sun on my soul cradled my meager ascent.

I found my way back to Wanaka for St. Paddy's day where I had a few leisurely drinks. I recovered and then, with stunning weather, decided to do one of the hardest--or I should say most dangerous--(free climbing) saddles in New Zealand; Cascade Saddle. This saddle has stunning views of the Matukituki Valley and all the surrounding ranges. I set off hitching from the hostel and with luck found a ride in no time. Unfortunately, I was still going to be tardy in beginning my planned first day. Most people take 2 days to actually do the saddle, but I planned to do it in one...this was a bit problematic because I was compromised to "finding" a ride and so I couldn't begin at my most desired hour. This forced me to push past several people who tried to dissuade me from going over the top; I had to assure them with previous accomplishments and plain old stubborn americanism, careless that they might utter the infamous "Fucking Arrogant Americans..." I didn't care at this point. The reason most people go an easy 3 hours the first day is because the second day is 10-12 hours over a very demanding alpine pass. The pass isn't even the highest part--the pylon which commands a view unparalleled, truly--and leaves another 5-6 hours of descent upon rocky, unstable footing. I flew up to the pylon and due to my poor (but ever improving) map reading ability, journeyed up to an even higher peak and played about for 1/2 hour completely out of route; I couldn't afford this luxury at my l8 start time, but did anyway...the apple was the nutrious sweet I needed. I descended without problem to find that I hadn't even reached the saddle yet...the sun seemed to be closing over the Range. I had to pop off the shoes and cross a river (didn't want to be tramping in the dark with cold, wet feet) and move up and over. The saddle brought another treasure with the opening sight of Dart Glacier...magnificent! People were camping there and I moved quickly pass with a wave of my newfound stick. Darting down the Dart I wasn't really worried cuz I knew I had my headtorch; however, it was still quite a ways off even if I did manage my swift pace which I was admirably expressing. Dark overcame me an hour before I could even smell the swing bridge that allowed me access to the hut. I had to ford 3 rivers that had grown quite deep with quick currents due to the afternoon's glacial thaw. I walked up and down those rivers in the dark for much more time than normal and ended up leaping on to a several rocks that were sturdy enough to hold me...could've gone either way though. In the end, I can only owe my arrival to the hut at 9pm to my headtorch, the uncanny comment that was assuring advice from a random guy just as I set out, 7 hours earlier--as if he knew I would be lost along that river--to aqueous luck, nature, and that thing I like to associate with as my guardian angel. The truth is that it was all part of the same, but I was carried on wings without any doubt. I was a bit wet, bloody, but sooo relieved to hear voices and find a bed by that time. Sweet AS!!! The way out was a couple of days of walking in grasslands with mountains looming behind clouds, offering the omniscient perspective they always hold...gr8 2 days out. I arrived on the road towards Glenorchy, where they filmed a large part of "Lord of the Rings" and even found a crew filming 10km after I came out of Chinamans Bluff...at that point of my stumble onto civilized paths, I managed a ride from an old couple and was off to Glenorchy.

I rested my blistered, puffy, and disgusting feet for a few days. As I read in the solarium, a scot talked me into going over Ball Pass which is a glacier near Mt. Cook. I told him I hadn't walked with crampons or used an ice axe before, not to mention didn't have them, and he said it wouldn't be a problem. I hired/rented them and was in complete trust to his ability...not sure if it was entirely a prudent step, but I'm still writing this aren't I? The pass was flippin' fantastic beyond a dream. The first night up there--b4 we actually climbed to the pass--we nearly froze in an emergency shelter that lost way too much heat to the aluminum from which it was constructed. We set off with a big breakfast and hit the scrambled up the scree finding the glacier in no time. I donned my crampons and had a good go on a glacier for an hour. The pass wasn't technical at all and was very tame, easy, and safe as far as mountaineering is concerned. It was still humbling and offered real imagination every time we had to negotiate a large crevasse...they just dropped to the bottom of the earth...sooo far down that you don't know the state you'd reach should you ever land; BIG step over that there! It was super fun to walk up an ascent of 45 degrees of solid ice...stamping the teeth into the glacier for reassurance. It was a very long day but brought me into an alpine club's hut where I was told tales of "International Challenge" multi-day runs by a 39 yr. old female. I never again will complain of pain or perservance...this woman was the hard core galore of all athletes.

I managed to hitch out of Mt. Cook Village--again with difficulty--as an Irish family picked me up and drove me the entire way (though was out of their way) and told me stories of the work they did in Africa. I know that every story that passes my ears is something special that will be incorporated into the passion of occupation that I will someday encounter. There are really some amazingly beautiful people with the kindest spirits and intentions...you'd never have known...it's worth stopping to ponder that gr8ness and its existence in a world that we're constantly told is malicious...

Arriving AGAIN to Wanaka, I headed up an unknown hill to a house where I was invited to stay should I return. A mate I met at the hostel said the girls needed a bit of rent money--less per night for me, extra $ 4 them...everyone wins--and have been there ever since. I tried to hitch out to Mt. Aspiring Natl Park again to do a 3-4 day thing up towards Quarterdeck Glacier but didn't get picked up...that's right...I didn't get picked up. I couldn't believe that I had'nt the luck that had always shouldered me. When I got back to the house, I realized I didn't have my lighter (or any fire for that matter) and would've been pretty screwed had I gotten up there without anyone around to assist me in lighting my cooker. Who says things don't happen for a reason?!?

25 days remain for me in NZ and I have just a couple plans that have been scrapped, reassembled, and scrapped again...no telling where the road will lead me in the next period. I've assembled pictures in "Mt. Cook", "Cascade Saddle", and added some to "Wanaka"...enjoy. I've also since shaved my beard and am now less of a bearded bushman that might've scared you all away...there are pics of the beard somewhere in there as well.

I will say that Mt. Aspiring has been so unbelievably impressive over the past 3 weeks and that Mt. Cook has also been an experience that I shouldn't ever erase in my mind's fortress of comfort. The colors reflecting Lake Pukaki with Cook magnetising me to his altar, breaking the bushline above Aspiring Hut to not see, rather be among the very mountain peaks that I've shaken my head to over an unknown time...it all pushes me through the heaven to a place that one doesn't know unless s/he experiences it; I have.