It’s a Small World

To offset our perfectly delicious relaxation yesterday, we decided on a marathon day today. We were up and out before the sun, which in this case was about 6:00. The clouds and fog of yesterday had disappeared out to sea and the day was gloriously clear. The mountains had a fresh blanket of snow and positively glowed in the first light of dawn. Our destination was the West Coast and a sprinkling of what it has to offer. The drive over Arthur’s Pass to get there was three hours of rugged mountains, rivers, waterfalls, and single lane bridges.

Since New Zealand is so big and our time so short, we had dabbled with the idea of a helicopter ride out to see some of the glaciers. It seemed a bit expensive, but it also seemed a shame not to do it. We waffled back and forth, finally deciding just to take it as it came. If an opportunity presented itself, then who knew what could happen.

Hokitika, on the West Coast, is stunning. The waves rolling in off the Tasman Sea were huge and lovely and the lush green of the farms leading right to the mountains beautiful. It’s interesting how there are no foothills in the parts of the South Island where we were. The ground is flat as a pancake until it suddenly whooshes up into a high peak. The Hokitika Gorge, with its bright blue/teal water was our first destination, but on the road over we passed a little office in a field that said Precision Helicopter Tours on it. No Heli was in sight, but there was an older man mowing the grass and the parking lot had three dogs in it, one lying very much centered in the handicapped parking spot. A cheerful middle aged woman was there and after chatting a little, her and Heath had a perfect little helicopter ride figured out. A shorter ride, I think she said 15-20 minutes, to a close glacier with a touchdown on the mountain top. Excellent! She sent her daughter Lily, age 28, for the helicopter and we did the preflight paper work, which was pretty much limited to our names and our weights. Come to think of it, I don’t think we signed any type of waver.

Before long we heard the thump of the rotors, and a little blue helicopter landed in the back yard. Lily fueled it, she had been out bringing fert to the far fields, and with a few preliminary instructions, we were strapped in and off! All 5 of us fit, so that was excellent. We flew up and over the mountains, passed over a deep valley that gets the most rain in all of NZ and eventually landed on the peak of Mt Beaumont. It had a small glacier on it, with some brilliant blue water near it, as glaciers tend to have. Lily let us trot around up there for a spell, eating fresh snow and drinking in the views. She said it was the clearest day she’d seen in a year, and honestly it was epic. Mt Cook stood majestically to the Southwest and the whole Southern Alps with their snowy peaks and glaciers stood out in stark contrast to the blue sky. You could see for miles up the coastline and see the spray of the waves as they beat on the shore. Little farms dotted the valley and streams flowed down the mountain sides around us.

Eventually we had to leave, clambering back in to the helicopter to swoop off the mountain and this time fly low along the gorge itself. There are dozens of mountain huts spread throughout the Alps for hunters and hikers. Early immigrants to NZ brought deer cause they thought it would feel homey and of course they got out of hand. The government put up these huts and now you can get paid to go out in the mountains and shoot deer. As many as possible. NZ wants them gone. You can hike or helicopter in and out. The main path in is along the gorge, and while there are some suspension bridges to cross the river, there are more places with a cable strung across and a little metal cage on rollers that you can use to pull yourself across. Looked like fun! Lily was in no particular hurry, and by the time we touched down at the office we’d been up a good 40 minutes.

Hokitika gorge and its roaring water called next, so we hiked a little ways down the trail before turning around and going to find lunch in town. Time was after all marching on and we still had much to accomplish. Lunch was paper bags piled high with hot fish and chips. It was sinfully delicious. Kindi Lou and I were waiting on the picnic tables outside while the rest ordered and spotting a yellow picnic table I said “let’s eat at that yellow table”. After all, yellow is her most favorite color ever. Apparently all she heard was “let’s eat that yellow table”, as she cheerfully rushed over and started to give it a vigorous licking. It must have tasted good so she proceeded to lick on the red table, the blue table, and even the green table, which had people eating at it. I’m sure they thought nothing of it.

The Coast Rd was next, a curvy road with lush vegetation on one side and the ocean on the other. Not half shabby! The ferns here are magnificent, some actually looking like palm trees they grow so tall, and the wild hydrangeas were in full bloom. Think about the most beautiful hydrangea bush you have ever seen and then liberally sprinkle it throughout a tropical mountainside. Pink, white, blue and purple ones were everywhere the eye looked. Absolutely stunning. Large rocks sat out in the water, and finally we had to stop and go mess around on the beach for a while, picking up cool rocks and listening to the boom of the surf. All of us except Heath thought it was horrible funny when a wave caught him unawares and absolutely soaked his pants and shoes. He wobbled around in the foamy water, a shocked look on his face, while his disloyal friends hooted. Lucky I had packed extra clothes for just such surprises.

Pancake Rocks and the Blowholes was supposed to be our furthest North destination. It was pretty cool, though I’m not even sure how to describe it. It’s a large area of jagged spiky rocks that have eroded underneath and the sea comes sweeping in. As it thunders into the various pools and under rock bridges, it sometimes splashes way up or makes a deep booming sound. You can feel the impact on the pathways above.

It was after 5:00 by the time we were done at the blowholes, but we still weren’t quite ready to head back home. The Great Coast Rd kept calling us a little farther, so we followed it’s allure for another 10 miles before doing one last beach stop, wherein Kindi got sand in every crevice and Heath and I went to check if any penguins were nesting in a nearby cave. No joy on the penguins, but the cave was interesting.

And then we turned our weary selves back towards home. The stars were popping out as we got across the pass, and I was amazed to see an upside down Orion in the sky. I tried to find the Southern Cross, but was just too tired and the roads were too curvy. Home was sheer bliss!