Mountain Skills Video Diary

Between games of scrabble and sh*t head while it was snowing outside we amused ourselves by making a video diary. Here it is...

Hot Christmas

Guard dog!?

Nat and I were both working over Christmas so we decided to celebrate the weekend before and treat ourselves to a couple of days in Hawkes Bay. We started by visiting Sammie, a family friend (my cousin's wife's sister to be precise), and her kids at their farm. It was the closest we got to a family Christmas and it was great to see some family photos I'd taken a couple of years ago in the UK on her wall in NZ! After much relaxation, and having eaten our way through their farm (home-grown lamb for dinner and freshly collected eggs for breakfast!) we headed off to Napier.

Josh and Sammie on the quad - we were in the trailer.

Zac working the farm dogs.

As it was Christmas we treated ourselves to a luxury B&B. It was run by a guy called Mike, and his family, who couldn't do enough for us, from booking us on a wine tasting tour to wrapping up the leftover blueberry muffin we couldn't finish at breakfast so we could have it as a snack later!
Most of our previous weekend trips have been pretty full on so it was great just to chill out and do something cultural for a change...drink wine! Apparently it's acceptable to start drinking at 9am when it's in the name of culture, but after our faux Christmas dinner at a winery the night before we opted for the half-day 12am start, by which time a nice drop of hair of the dog was just about tolerable.

Posing for photos...think we might have had one too many.

Giving Nat the camera...a few too many.

Pretending to be a wind turbine...time to go home!

We had just been given a whole hamper of local wines (mum asked Sammie to buy some as a Christmas present for us - thanks mum!) so it was brilliant to be able to visit the actual vineyards where our wine came from. We learnt loads...then drank too much and forgot.
The next day we headed to Cape Kidnappers to see the largest Australasian gannet colony! Well, I was excited anyway. But we had to abort because we would have got stranded (in my excitement I forgot to check the tide times). So we took a trip to the National Aquarium instead, and saw a kiwi! No, it wasn't swimming!

My mate Jake surfing on Christmas morning.

All in all it was a cracking weekend, and we fell in love with Hawkes Bay a little bit. Don't worry mum, not enough to stay! But it's definitely worth a trip if anyone is heading out here.
Nat was working a long day (8am to 11pm) on Christmas day so I managed to squeeze in a cheeky surf in the morning before preparing a picnic, which we ate on the beach during her lunch break. It was an unorthodox Christmas in several ways, chicken instead of turkey (or ham, as is tradition over here), beach instead of family dining table, and sun instead of rain/hail/snow, but it was fun for a change. Christmas over here is all about beaches and BBQs but I still don't think it's acceptable to have Christmas lights in the shape of lobsters.

Cheers!

We hope you all had a great Christmas too and are having a very happy New Year.

Canoe help me please!

We were a classic case of all the gear but no idea.

Following a couple of relatively relaxed weekends, we decided to get adventurous. We had planned to climb Mt. Taranaki but with there still being snow on the peak it would have been too risky to attempt the summit (although with hindsight it might have been the safer option). Instead we decided to canoe the Wanganui River, which is classed as one of the 10 NZ Great Walks, although it's a paddle.
After a safety brief, which was, erm, brief, we loaded up the double Canadian canoe with our camping supplies and set off. The river is classed as Grade II, and immediately around the first corner we hit our first rapid. We bounced off a couple of boulders, took on a bit of water, and turned our canoe through 360 degrees before we popped out the other end. It took a couple more sections of white water to get to grips with controlling the canoe but we made it through the first day without too much drama.

We kept our fingers crossed that we didn't sleepwalk.

The campsite was right on the riverbank but we lugged our gear to highest spot and perched our tent on the top of the cliff with awesome views down the next section of braided river we'd have to tackle the next day.
The following morning we saw a scout group leader checking out the rapid just downriver from the campsite. He reckoned that it would be safer to go down the shallower section and risk scraping the bottom on the canoe in favour of the deeper channel where there was a submerged branch wedged under a boulder. We were pretty grateful for his advice, as we had decided over breakfast, with our bird's eye view of the river, that the best route would be the main channel.

Tea break.

After bumping our way down that first section we cruised along happily for a couple of hours, stopping for a snack, taking in the scenery, and watching a pair of kingfishers building a nest. It was all so nice and calm.
Then we came across an old car in the river and remembered that we'd been told about it in the brief. It was a landmark to remind us which way to navigate the next rapid, a particularly rough one. Only we couldn't remember which way it was meant to remind us to go. So, using our usual technique of following the main flow that we'd been taught we headed down the main channel. We could see a patch of white water ahead of us in the middle of the channel, which usually meant there was a boulder just under the surface, so aimed to the right of it. As we got closer, we realised that it wasn't a boulder but a log that stretched the entire width of the channel. The front of the canoe hit it and stopped, forcing the tale to swing round parallel to the log. In a split second, the downstream side of the canoe mounted the log causing water to rush in the other side, flipping us out and wedging itself under the log. Nat was swept clean under the log and floated downstream until she could swim to the shore. I held on to the canoe, and managed to pull myself on top of the log. I tried pulling the canoe free but it wouldn't budge.
I just stood there for a while wondering what to do, and I noticed it had started pouring with rain. Why does it always rain in a crisis? I thought that just happened in films. Once I'd got over the initial shock, part of me wanted to take a photo of the accident. The 18ft canoe was sticking up from under the log at a 45 degree angle in the middle of the river. It would have looked pretty funny to any passers by, had there been any. It then dawned on me that my camera was in a cheap drybag, which I hadn't tested, attached to the submerged end of the canoe, being battered by tons of water. My priorities went back to freeing the canoe. I clambered on top of it and used all my weight to lever it out. It worked, and I somehow managed to manoeuvre the canoe over the log and jump in it before it we were swept downriver. It was so full of water that by the time I had steered the canoe towards the shore it had almost completely sunk. A bit like Johnny Depp at the beginning of Pirates of the Caribbean, only I didn't step off the boat bone-dry, all cool and pirate-like...I was paddling like mad, sitting up to my chest in water, looking like a drowned rat.
As we sat on the bank, periodically bailing water out of the canoe with half a milk carton, the scout group appeared up river. Without hesitation they cruised down the other section of river and stopped to ask if we were okay, and offered us some gaffa tape for the crack in our canoe. We explained what had happened, and surprisingly they sympathised. Apparently the channel we took is usually the favoured route, just not after a storm has wedged a log across it.

With no mirrors for 2 days I was oblivious to how camp I looked.

From then on, every time we heard a rapid in the distance, we felt pretty nervous, but we had passed the worst. We had lost about an hour getting stuck so we paddled hard for 3 hours to make it to the pickup point in time. The relief when we pulled the canoe up the boat ramp was amazing. It had been a great couple of days, and we don't want to put any off doing it, but dry land had never felt so good.

At the beginning I was wheelie enjoying it!

I'm not sure if a 50km mountain bike ride is the best cure for post-traumatic stress but the following morning we were dropped off at the start of the 42 Traverse. Actually, it was six kilometres from the start because Grant (the guy from Howard's Lodge again) didn't want to get his car dirty.
There isn't actually a lot to say about the ride. Despite the rain we really enjoyed the first three, maybe even four, hours of riding really diverse terrain from technical sections over slippery boulders to long flowing downhill runs. But after a few hours we had had enough. Leg muscles were cramping, and the climbs just seemed to get steeper and steeper. After nearly 7 hours and an extra 2km climb to the pickup point, which we weren't told about, we were exhausted.

Took this photo of the sign at the finish but maybe should have paid more attention to it at the start.

Sorry about the negativity of this blog post but even after a couple of weeks the pain is still too fresh! On a positive note, we've just celebrated our Christmas early (Nat and I are both working on actual Christmas) with a few days in Hawke's Bay so will update with those fun times soon.

Happy Christmas to you all!

Charlie & Nat. xxx

Our First Visitors

Nat's friends from home, Kate and Tony, came to stay for a weekend. It was a grand affair...we got the hoover out and everything. Although, I would like to take this opportunity to apologise for the dead cockroach on their bathroom floor that we somehow neglected to clean up until just before they left - sorry guys.

Anyway, it was a great weekend. We managed to entertain ourselves for 48 hours, if not more, without leaving Ohope (about half the size of Grayshott or Sileby). They arrived early evening on Friday, when the entertainment started with showers and a bbq. That might sound a bit odd but they'd been living in a campervan (with a parrot) for a few days and needed a wash (in their own opinion, not ours).

Kayaking in the harbour (on the sheltered side).

Nat kayaking (while I was unknowingly filling up the dry bag with water).

The following day we went kayaking. It was meant to be a relaxing hangover cure and tour of the harbour but after Nat and I's Raleigh-esque safety brief, which included information about the local wildlife (hammerhead sharks, killer whales and stingrays), and then paddling in some pretty rough wind swell I think they were secretly pleased to be back on dry land. A jug of Pimms and a power nap rejuvenated us enough for an evening stroll over the headland to a secluded beach to look for some flowering Pohutukawa trees. With no luck (someone had told us porkies), we headed back for some fish and chips, which we ate around a bonfire on the beach with some toasted marshmallows for pudding.

The bonfire and caveman TV
(this looked like a flamenco dancer at the time, hmm).

After a few hours of drinking and watching caveman TV we were contemplating ways of putting the fire out. Covering it in sand is frowned upon incase someone walks on it and burns themselves. So, the next best option was obviously to fill up the empty beer bottles with the nearest available liquid...our pee! It didn't occur to any of us at the time that there was an endless water supply only 27 metres away (just earlier we'd had a bet on who could guess the distance of the sea in the dark). I should probably add that it was only the guys who filled the beer bottles...the girls used wine bottles!

The next day, in a second attempt to use the sea as a hangover cure, we went surfing. There were no waves but it was still fun just to get cold and wet...well I thought so anyway.

Then it was time for Kate, Tony, the Mo (Tony's Movember moustache) and their parrot (giant sticker on the side of their camper) to leave.

We had a great time with them, enjoying our favourite activities and places, and exploring new ones. But don't worry, if any of you are thinking about coming to visit we won't make you pee in bottles. You will, however, get your very own blog post. Definitely worth the trip I reckon.

The rest of October...

Hello. Sorry for the delay in the update. Here's a little teaser before the main November installment...

The weekend after the tyre blowout incident was Labour Day (Bank Holiday) so we had a 3 day weekend of hiking and snowboarding. Coincidentally, because of fortuitous weather conditions, Saturday happened to be the first day of summer for the Tongariro Crossing (meaning we could self-guide the hike instead of having to go with an alpine guided tour) and also the last weekend that the ski field would be open.
Friday night we drove 3 hours south to a tiny village in Tongariro National Park, and stayed at Howard's Lodge, which was owned and run by a guy called Grant, not Howard.
Anyway, early the following morning, we were shuttled to the start of the crossing. The driver muddled his way through a safety brief, which included false information about toilet locations and not much else, and we set off.

Nat at the start of the Tongariro Crossing - we traversed between the mountains (behind Nat's head).

The crossing was still covered in snow but was deemed suitable for self-guiding without crampons and ice axes.

A picture of me, just to prove I did it too, and Mt. Ruapehu, an active volcano, in the background.

Hundreds of people, from seasoned mountaineers to groups of sightseers, were doing the crossing that day, but not everyone took it as seriously as we did. There was one guy, wearing jeans, trainers and one of those tassley scarf fashion accessory things (you know the ones) who we saw at the top of the crossing where we, and loads of other people, had stopped to take in the stunning views and tranquility of the volcanic craters and snow capped mountains, when his mobile started ringing. It was that really annoying Nokia ring tone from Trigger Happy TV - dela-derr-derr, dela-derr-derr, dela-derr-derr-derr. Lots of tutting and head shaking from other walkers ensued. But when he answered it with 'Hi mum', everyone just fell about laughing. You probably had to be there but it was a brilliant moment.

Nat and I half way over the crossing, just before we stopped to have lunch overlooking Emerald Lakes.

It took us a little over 6 hours to complete the 17km crossing, and we were pretty shattered by the end of it. But during the walk we decided (think we might have been delirious from altitude or exhaustion or something) that it would be a good idea to come back and run it to raise money for Nat's mum's charity project, so watch this space.

We spent the next 2 days snowboarding on the mountains just the other side of Mt. Ruapehu. It was awesome.

Nat cruising down our favourite run, The Gut, and Mt. Ruapehu's summit poking through the cloud in the background.

My new car, a Toyota Hilux Surf - she's  a beast. Note the sign with the skiing kiwi, or skiwi!

We also started our introductory kayaking course in October. There's a 2 hour session every week for 4 weeks: 2 in the harbour and 2 in the sea. It's loads of fun and we're learning a lot.

Kayaking in the harbour. Our house is just out of shot to the left.

The whole group on the course. Some interesting characters - Kirsty (3rd from left) doesn't like getting wet.

That's it for now but I'll be posting another update soon...November's been busy. Hope this finds everyone well. We'd love to hear what you've all been up to.

Love Charlie & Nat x

Week 1

My first impressions of Ohope were from a fantastic bird's eye view of the 12km beach, where we're living, as the plane came in to land at the local airport. I liked it already. And felt like a bit of a rockstar as I disembarked the tiny jet with my entourage (19 other members of the general public). So much so infact, that when I was greeted by a gorgeous blonde I expected someone to carry my bags to my limo, and nearly left them behind before I snapped out of my dreamland and chucked my stuff into the back of Natalie's 15yr old, dented (not by her) Toyota Corona.

Our House.

Our View.

Our Car - her good side.

Our first week (together - Nat's already been here for a couple of months) has been relaxed. Managed to fight off the jet lag by building a homemade kite out of a plastic bag, some driftwood and a reel of fishing line. After minutes of careful engineering we took it down to the beach. It was blowing an absolute gale, a nearby kitesurfer was basically flying, surely we couldn't fail? We did. But after a slight modification it took off and we had seconds of fun.

The one that got away - trout 'fishing' in a stream near Lake Waikareiti.

Brrr - there had been a metre of snow here a few days before.

The rest of the week was spent surfing and sleeping (for me anyway, Nat was at work!) and preparing for our 2 day tramping trip over the weekend. On Saturday we drove into Te Urewera National Park and along nearly 100km of dirt tracks (in the same 15yr old, dented Toyota Corona) until we had reached the start of our hike and had terrified each other with tales of psycho touirst-killers. We tramped around Lake Waikareiti through Lord-of-the-Rings-like forest, tried to catch trout with our bare hands, swam in the icy water and slept in a hut on the edge of the lake.

Cooking up some chorizo, chilli & tomato pasta outside the hut.

Waking and warming up with a brew in the morning.

The following day I managed to crack my head on a metal shelf and fall waist deep into a swamp before we had even set off. And all I could think of on the walk back was that these misfortunes usually come in 3's...

They do. But it wasn't until we were driving back that the third one struck, we got a flat tyre. Not usually that bad, unless you're in the middle of a 200,000ha National Park in the rain with no phone signal and the wrong sized spanner for the wheel nuts. We hadn't seen another car for a while so thought the best option would be to ask for help in one of the corrugated iron shacks on the hill side. The only one with signs of life was right at the top, and had smoke coming out of it's make-shift drainpipe chimney (no doubt smoke from the last tourist to ask for help who was now cooking on the fire). If we had been watching ourselves in a horror film we would have been shouting at the screen, but it was our only option.

We walked up the windy track, and fears from the previous day's psycho stories started to manifest themselves. First we came across a line of skulls hanging from a fence and then a dead pig in a wheel barrow. As we approached the house an angry dog started barking and running towards us until it reached the end of its chain. Just before we decided that we'd rather die of starvation in the car, a large Maori man with a glass eye appeared at the door.

He turned out to be very helpful and changed the tyre for us, while a friendly Maori lady and her kids who had been rounding up their cattle came to see what was going on. So all's well that ends well, and we made it back without further incidence. I'm now off to replace the spare tyre incase the same happens next week. We'll keep you posted....