Tramping for University Credit

I’m currently taking a class called Land Journey and Ethics, in which we are required to think about the way we treat the environment, and how we interact with nature. Although this class has nothing to do with my Linguistics degree, I thought it was quite appropriate considering the amount of tramping I intended to do in New Zealand. The main reason I took it was for the two field trips that would take place during the second term.

This blogpost is all about those two field trips – camping for class credit.

 

Port Hills Expedition

On the 14^th and 15^th, our first field trip took place. For me, a 30 minute bus ride away from uni doesn’t really seem much like ‘wilderness,’ and so I wasn’t particularly looking forward to this trip. But the weekend actually ended up being quite fun.

First of all, the Port Hills are just south of Christchurch. It’s nice because if you get on top of the hills you can see the whole city stretched out below you….

…and if you turn around and look the other way, you can see all of Lyttleton Harbour and the rest of the Banks Peninsula in all its glory.

INFO ALERT! The area was formed by volcanic activity several bajilion years ago, (that’s precise scientific dating), which is why the harbour has the basin shape that it does. I learned that from a fellow student’s presentation.

Several presentations took place on this trip, including mine. We each spent 10 minutes talking about a separate area/person/subject that had to do with our trip. I learned a lot, but that best part was that most of the time, we had this sort of view as we listened to the presentations.

Most of the time. Sometimes we just took the sunshine when we could get it.

It was fun learning this way – it was relevant to what we were doing and where we were. Plus I didn’t have to pay attention for long: usually we’d be hiking, then stop for a 10-minute presentation, then keep on going again to do another one later. (rather than fitting 30 presentations on after the other back in the classroom, where you just start to zone out…)

I learnt how to navigate using a compass and a map, and I learnt from the presentations about the Maori in the Banks Peninsula area, the geology, its European history, and some plants and animals of the area.

It was quite interesting also because it makes you realize how little you actually know about the places you visit. Even back at home in Alberta, I don’t really take the time to stop and wonder how this flower got its name, or how the land was formed, or what the history of the native people in that area. (Like, who would’ve known that beautiful, innocuous little Quail Island would’ve had such a dark and depressing history?)

Quail Island is in the top right corner of this photo.

I’d been to the Port Hills before, but this was revisiting it again in a way that I definitely enjoyed. Despite having to prepare for the oral presentation.

We also played a game of Mafia in the evening, (aka Werewolf) which gave us a good amount of laughter, making us forget we were here for school.

Couscous supper

Christchurch from above at night

 

Craigieburn Wilderness Expedition

Two weeks later it was time to head out once more. (September 27/28/29^th)

Again, I wasn’t very excited for this one, but again my expectations were matched and exceeded.

We sorted ourselves into groups of 3-6 people, and organized our tents and food that way. When we got to Craigieburn on Friday at 7pm, it was dark outside. Overcast and rainy too, so really. Dark.

The instructors dropped us off in our groups in several different spots along the road. They left us with our gear, our maps, compasses, the coordinates to our campsite, and the navigating knowledge from the previous trip. Then they left us, and we had to find our way to our unmarked campsite by ourselves.

The first thing we came across was forest, with a thick wall of underbrush. Even if it had been daylight we wouldn’t’ve been able to tell where we were supposed to go.

So we just pushed through the bush. Two people in our group led the way with maps and compasses, while Emmy and I kept count of how many steps we’d taken. That would tell us how many metres we’d gone and had left to go.

It took us an hour and a half to go 500m, because we took a sort of roundabout way by accident, but we made it. We found the clearing where we were supposed to be, and we set up our tents in the dark.

We arrived shortly after most other groups did, but one team took an extra two hours to get there. They had started from the farthest drop point though, so that’s understandable. They had almost been about to give up for the night, set up camp and find us in the morning, but our instructor found them. Another group, however, didn’t make it at all.

The next morning we woke up and split into three groups and, based on the knowledge we had, went out to find them. We found them within half an hour, and brought them back to camp to debrief.

The first lesson we learnt was: trust the compass. It turns out this group of three decided to follow the land, and what they thought the map said, and not the compass. They told us about crossing the stream (something we all did), and then walking until they found another stream (something no one else did) – that was running the wrong way. Turns out they had walked full circle and come across the same stream.

But in the end everything worked out – it wasn’t a huge area to begin with anyway.

The rest of the day was spent doing more navigation legs, learning how to triangulate, and listening to oral presentations from the people who hadn’t gone last weekend.

Presentations

Triangulation

Me navigating

We also learned how to build emergency shelters/lean-to’s/bivouacs. We built them in pairs, then went around on a “home and garden show,” as our instructor called it, to take a look at them all. We then had a competition to see whose was the best.

The sales pitch for finalist #1

The sales pitch for finalist #2

#2 won, because it had a candle. (“Ambiance” they called it.)

That night it wasn’t raining, so we were able to eat supper in relative comfort. Some people played games and some went straight to bed.

The next morning, though, we woke up to snow.

I’m pretty sure this is the wettest trip I’ve been on in New Zealand so far. Every morning, Chris our instructor would show us a new game to get the blood flowing so that we would stay warm. (We played elves, trolls and wizards one day, choo-choo-train the next, and head shoulder knees and toes the last morning. Brings out the 5 year old in all of us.)

Then we did some more navigation, learning, and tramping.

We were headed for those cliffs to the right of Garrett

Some sort of spider that’s related to the tarantula

More triangulation

And finally, we learned how to build a fire when everything around you is wet, and how to disperse the ashes afterwards so as to leave no trace that you were ever there.

Thanks to Ellen White for these next 5 photos

All in all, I was the wettest I’ve ever been, and the most tired and uncomfortable I’ve been on a tramp. (due to not feeling well and not sleeping, on top of the wet.) I’d never wanted to just get home more than I did that weekend.

But, I’m not lying to you when I say it really was a good two days. I learned so much, and I had quite a lot of fun. My instructor’s enthusiasm definitely helped all of us stay in a good mood, as did several pairs of dry socks. I would definitely do it again.

Mount Isobel (& food)

Today’s entry will be a relatively shortish one, because I have much homework to do and I shouldn’t even be procrastinating like this. But you know.
I like procrastinating.

So anyway, this weekend our group decided to do a day hike rather than an overnight trip, for reasons that I have mentioned above. We decided to go to Hanmer Springs on Sunday. But not for the hot springs; for the tramping. 😉

The mountain we climbed was called Mount Isobel, and it was almost a kilometre in elevation gain. We did it in under two and a half hours, with a return trip of maybe 45 minutes. It was a great day hike, with amazing views. Once again. (it never gets old)

There were patches of snow here and there… so I did what any Canadian would do. I made snowmen!

One for each of the people behind me.

At the top we had lunch and took in the view for a short period before climbing back down. And I say ‘for a short period’ because we left almost as soon as we got there and finished eating; the wind was very, very strong at the top, and therefore cold.

Probably the strongest winds I’ve ever seen. … minus the ones in Christchurch that were 133km/h the other day, which blew roofs off of sheds and caused power outages to almost 20,000 houses.

That was my excitement for the week.

And now for the best part: let’s talk about food!! (Now’s the time to stop reading this blogpost, if you are uninterested in these sort of ramblings.)
I’ve sort of been keeping a list of things I do and don’t like about NZ food. I might as well share it here. Warning: a lot of it is complaining because these are things I’ve written to myself when I was hungry, or craving something NZ doesn’t have. Sorry about that. 😉

Notable things about Food in NZ
(and stuff that I miss from Canada)

1. One of these days, I just want to eat some real bacon. None of this “bacon and ham are the same thing” stuff. (You can just say “chicken and ham pizza,” it’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just don’t fool me into thinking you’re actually giving me bacon.)

2. Likewise, I would like to stress that syrup and maple syrup are the NOT same thing. If you say you’re gonna bring me maple syrup with my pancakes, then you’d better feel real guilty when you bring me normal syrup and you see the disappointment written all over my face. I got really excited just now…
(apparently this is a frequent phenomenon worldwide? O.o )

3. Fish n chips. Fish n chips are actually really good. I’d never had them before I came here. (fishsticks aren’t quite the same thing) And they’re good enough that I can forgive another linguistic transgression: the fact that kiwis confuse the words chips and fries. 😉

4. I’m really going to miss the peanut butter here. I mean, yeah we have it at home, but not like this… Not like Pic’s does it… (‘Peanut Butter of the Gods’ is what I would’ve called it, if I owned the company)

5. I made a Canadian classic for my international friends the other day: butter tarts. They were so easy (minus the pastry shells – I bought those) that I will definitely be making them again. Although not having corn syrup here in NZ makes it a bit tricky…

See? Proof! They tasted really good.

6. Stop putting mayonnaise on my pizza. There is no need for that.

7. Man the kiwis love their little mince meat pies. Not that there’s anything wrong with them, they’re really good. Splendid in fact. And they make for super easy instant/frozen suppers. But where are all the dessert pies? I’d love some good apple pie right now. (they’d probably love tourtière here)

8. Not that I eat it that often, but I miss poutine. And booster juice. And timbits. Especially timbits roasted over the campfire. Mmmmm… I also miss Macintosh apples, original-flavour nacho chips, and Greek yogurt the way it tastes in Canada. And I miss strong cheddar cheese. Actually, I also really miss cheddar cheese being orange and therefore easy to tell apart from mozzarella. (1st world problems, yes.)

9. Kiwifruit tastes unusually good here.

10. Carrots are ginormous.

11. Kumaras are a small sort of yam that taste really good. And they have temporarily taken the place of potatoes while I’m here.

12. Spicy isn’t actually that spicy.

… That’s it for now, although I will probably add to this list as time goes on.
Cheers!

Nelson, Nelson Lakes and Punakaiki

After finishing the Abel Tasman track we drove down to Nelson (one of the most scenic drives I’ve ever taken) and got a motel for the night. The place we stayed at had a winter special going on, so we got a good room (it was more like a suite, with a kitchen, living room and everything) for a good price. Once we’d split the cost, it was maybe the same as a hostel would have charged. ($30/night)

There we all showered and enjoyed sleeping in beds once again.

The after photo

Well I mean, the couch was comfy too.

Not only did the motel have good prices, they also had a continental breakfast. The next morning we were brought crepes with bananas, whipped cream and syrup. Unfortunately I learnt that people here like to say “maple syrup” when they simply mean “syrup.” (I got all excited when I heard him say he’d bring us maple syrup with our crepes, before one of my American friends told me that it was probably going to be just normal syrup. Even in the States apparently people don’t care to distinguish the two. And sure enough, the next morning they definitely brought us just plain old syrup. (I know, it’s disappointing. The world needs to get their food labels straight.))

Friday

Friday was spent exploring the city. Nelson is quite a nice little town. The area is comparable to Victoria BC, with wineries close by and beautiful flowering trees all over the place. The town even has a cathedral.

Photo credit: Will Rynearson

We went on a 15 minute tramp that day as well, which we decided to count as being our 7^th day in a row of hiking. Because why not. (If I work up a sweat, it counts, right?) The destination was the Centre of New Zealand.

The centre of New Zealand is conveniently located on the top of a hill with a beautiful view of Nelson down below. (While not actually being the exact physical centre of New Zealand, this point has been used by surveyors for quite some time as being near enough.)

Photo credit: Andreas Blöschl

Later on we went shopping for groceries for the next few days. I bought myself some manuka honey. It’s pretty expensive stuff, but apparently it has some really good health benefits. It tastes a little different than regular honey, and is unique to New Zealand. (made from Manuka trees, which are only found in NZ)
I had to buy some. YOLINZO (you only live in New Zealand once)

$13 for a small container like this

After that we went to enjoy the sunset at the beach before heading back to our motel and cooking ourselves some pizza.

Photo credit: Andreas Blöschl

We spent another night in the motel before heading down the West Coast and back to Christchurch.

Saturday

Saturday was mostly spent driving. Gabe took the bus back to Christchurch from Nelson so that he could spend the rest of the school break fishing, which made our drive a little more comfortable with only 4 people instead of 5. As we passed through Nelson Lakes National Park we stopped at Lake Rotoiti for a 4 hour tramp up a mountain. (for those of you who like maps, http://www.topomap.co.nz/NZTopoMap/nz38460/Parachute%20Rocks/Tasman)

Once again, the view was beautiful. New Zealand never fails to amaze.

Photo credit: Will Rynearson

Photo credit: Will Rynearson

That night we drove until it got dark. We were aiming for a campground that was listed on our map, but when we got there it was closed. Instead we decided to do some freedom camping. Freedom camping = you can camp for free wherever you want, so long as it’s not on private property or in a national park, and it’s 200m away from the road or anything man-made.

We ended up camping in punakaiki national park, but it wasn’t the main entrance to the park – we hoped that no one would come and check that we were there. There were signs on the ground that others had done the same before us. The only thing I really remember from this night was laying outside on our mats, in our sleeping bags, looking up at the stars as we waited for the pasta to cook. I’m still awed by the night sky here in New Zealand. And Will also taught us once again how to find South by using the southern cross.

Sunday

Sunday we packed up quickly because of all the sand flies. (I still don’t think they’re as bad here as the mosquitoes in rural Alberta, but they are bad.)

We drove down the West Coast, stopped at the Pancake Rocks, and then continued our journey on to Christchurch.

Scientists are not sure how exactly the pancake rocks formed – but it has something to do with thousands of years, and ocean.

The West Coast is beautiful

We went through Arthur’s pass to get back home. Arthur’s Pass is a drive which is becoming quite familiar.

We stopped in Arthur’s pass to eat lunch, and were bombarded by keas. A kea is an alpine parrot, the only mountain parrot in the world, and they’re endangered. They’re hard to find anywhere else, but I’ve never failed to see one going through Arthur’s Pass. Being very curious birds, they’ll always come out and say hi, and they’re very smart – especially when it comes to getting food. They’re also kind of annoying. If you let them, they’ll peck at the rubber parts on your car, or drink the rest of your coffee, or steal small items of clothing. We brought out our lunch and immediately attracted the attention of several keas.

Photo credit: Andreas Blöschl

This kea was just testing the waters – he didn’t actually hop up on my arm.

Bushball

So last time I wrote I talked to you guys about my onesie. The real reason I bought it was not just too look cool and feel snuggly warm, it was so I could wear it to Bushball.

Bushball is pretty much exactly what it sounds like: a ball in the bushes. (ball as in party. But we had a ball, if you know what I mean 😉 ) The trip consisted of a 3 hour tramp into the wilderness, where we set up our tents, donned our onesies (or costumes), laid out a potluck, mixed the alcoholic beverages, opened the keg, and had a good time.

(yes, there was a keg. It was a 25L one, and somebody went without a backpack in order to carry it in)

On Saturday morning we got together in the main parking lot as usual, where 30 or so people from the tramping club crammed ourselves into vans and our backpacks into trailers behind us. We drove into Lewis Pass this time, rather than our usual destination in Arthur’s Pass. It was only about a 3 hour drive.

The hike in was only 7km, but it rained off and on and there was a bit of elevation gain here and there. I’ve come to expect rain from New Zealand… if you come here to tramp you have to know that there is no staying dry, ever. If you’re lucky and it doesn’t rain on you, there will most certainly to be a river to cross at one point. But so long as you are prepared with extra dry clothes, it really doesn’t matter. The landscape is beautiful all the same.

There was a hut at our destination… which is good, because it did quite a bit of raining. So we set up the party inside the hut (we just couldn’t sleep in it because we hadn’t paid) and we set up our tents outside for sleeping.

There’s the keg. The hut in the background is called ‘Cannibal Gorge Hut’

The whole thing was well organized by Johannes: everyone had a job to do. You could write up a trip report and take photos, help clean up afterwards, help haul the keg in, mix alcohol, buy the alcohol, etc. And everyone also had to bring something for the potluck: I brought dessert. The potluck was a delicious meal, despite being limited to tramping food.

Some Kaiserschmarrn made & photographed by Andreas Blöschl

The theme for the party was either what you want to be when you grow, or onesie. I chose onesie, and I roamed the hut as a bear the whole night. There was definitely a range of other fuzzy animals to keep me company.

Photo courtesy of Andreas Blöschl

Carmen wanted to be a princess when she grew up

And then there was a dance party, somehow. O.o

Photo courtesy of Andreas Blöschl

Anyway, it was a lot of fun. I ended up falling asleep in the tent around 1am, and the next morning we woke up around 11 to make our way back out of the woods.

 

The next adventure? Tackling Abel Tasman, one of New Zealand’s Nine Great Walks.

The Re-Freshers Tramping Trip

Saturday at 8am, about 40 people from the tramping club met up in one of the university car parks for an overnight tramping trip called Re-Freshers. (Freshers because we were mostly noobs, and re-freshers because it’s the second semester. So we don’t get to be complete newbs. (how exactly do I spell that?)) Anyway. We were headed into Arthur’s Pass again, this time to somewhere with less snow and more hot pools.

We were warned the previous Wednesday that this trip would mainly consist of crossing and re-crossing a river until we got there, so most of us packed appropriately. (most of us…) After a two-hour long bus ride through the beautiful misty mountains, we arrived, pulled out our packs, and headed off into the bushes.

The first river crossing wasn’t too bad. I don’t have waterproof shoes, but that really only matters when the water is lower than the top of your boots. As it was, everyone’s feet got soaked, and stayed soaked pretty much the whole weekend.

Next we were crossing an area that looked somewhat like the Dead Marshes. (Alert: LOTR reference. Better get used to it though, ‘cause there will be many of these…)

We were hungry.
(Photo courtesy of Heiko Bohlen)

Maybe half an hour to an hour after that, we entered a sort of rainforest. And all of this not too far from the snowy mountains we had crossed last weekend.

There was a lot of river crossings. At one point the current looked fast enough that I thought it would be better to do a group crossing with someone. Kristina and I went together, and the water came up to our hips. We were halfway through the river when the current got really fast, and the water really high, and my feet got swept from under me. I definitely half-fell in, and because I hadn’t brought a pack liner, some stuff in my bag got wet as well. I was afraid both Kristina and I would topple over completely into the river, because we couldn’t get our footing for a while, but we ended up alright. We probably stepped on each others’ feet at least twice, and then we braced ourselves against some big rocks so we could stand up again – which gave us some very lovely-coloured bruises later on.

Well, that probably sounded more scary than it actually was. Once we got to the other side (I hyperventilated a bit and then) we started laughing. We were the only ones who fell in, sadly. Or I mean gladly, gladly. So it wasn’t that bad.

No one got a photo of it, but lots of people saw it. Here’s a photo of two people crossing at the same spot and not falling in:

Good times.

Here’s another photo of a successful river crossing:

When we finally got to our destination, we were definitely ready for some hot springs. The first order of business was to set up our tents and dig out the hotpools – because nature doesn’t always provide a perfect pool sitting area.

Luckily though, I was with the last group to arrive and I didn’t have to do any of the above. Ha. So the second order of business was to change into our bathing suits and get into the hotpools. Which I did, happily.

The rest of that night was spent sitting in hot pools and sleeping in tents, so there’s not much to say after that. I did see a possum though, which is apparently just as bad as a squirrel when it comes to digging/chewing through backpacks for food. …but he looked pretty chill to me.

There is no possum in this photo. Sorry. I just wanted to show you the tents.

The next day we woke up at 10, put our wet clothes back on, and headed out. (We’d hung our clothes up to dry, but there was too much humidity in the air. If anything, they probably just got wetter.)

Today we had two options: go back the way we came, or take a longer, easier route back to the vans. Most people chose the longer and easier route, but that route consisted of crossing the river many more times than we had the day before. So I took the shorter route.

I, Andy (from Austria), Michael (also from Austria) and Will (USA) decided we could probably make up for lost time by going quickly, since we were some of the last people to leave the campsite. We trekked quickly, and somehow ended up being the first to arrive at the vans. (or close to first)

Photo courtesy of Andreas Blöschl

Photo courtesy of Andrew Thorson

All in all, it was a good trip.

It was a good indication of what to look forward to in future tramps – wet feet and beautiful scenery. Next time I’ll make sure I have a bag liner so I can keep my stuff dry.

The First Week

I arrived in Christchurch on the 28^th of June after a 26-hour flight. The University of Canterbury has a free pickup service for international students, so there was a taxi driver waiting for me when I got to the airport.

My first confusion/culture shock/whatever-you-wanna-call-it moment happened when I went for the passenger door, and realized that there was a steering wheel there. Oops. Right. They drive on the wrong side of the road.

My apartment is quite nice, at least for what I was expecting. I have my own room, fluffy blankets and pillows, and I share a kitchen and living room with four other people. We have no oven, but the microwave can act as one if I absolutely need to use an oven (and I probably won’t).

I’ve met 3 of my flatmates so far. Two of them are identical twins named Pat and Mike. They’re Kiwis from the north island, and I think I can finally tell them apart after all this time. They helped me out quite a bit at first, telling me where to go to buy a cell phone, how to buy a bus pass, etc. My other flatmate arrived a little bit after me, her name is Kristina and she’s from Austria. I have come to learn that Austrians speak German – but Germans are to Austrians as Americans are to Canadians. As are Aussies to Kiwis. Please take note 😉

All my flatmates are, I’m happy to say, perfectly okay with me singing as I do dishes. (and anything else, really)

The international services at the uni (see me using kiwi slang already >.<) organized a few events for the international students right at the start, so that everyone could get together and meet each other. The first such event was a bonfire with free food, music, and poi dancing.

Photo courtesy of Jürgen Brandstetter

Photo courtesy of Sheila Wesa

The second event was called “Maori Experience,” where they cooked a hangi for us. A hangi is (was) the Maori way of cooking. Since they had no ovens, they would dig a hole, heat up a bunch of rocks, and bury the food with the hot rocks underneath. Several hours later the food would be ready and they would dig it back up again. So they did that for us, and we got to experience a Maori-style meal.

Afterwards, the Maori group danced the Haka for us, which was a sight to see.

If you don’t know what the Haka is, just read the first paragraph here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haka

It was pretty impressive. I would be scared if I was the opposing group.

Those two events were pretty much how I got to meet people. I’ve noticed that there are a lot of Americans studying abroad here. They are by far the largest group of international students. Some of the other nationalities I’ve met are: French, German, Malaysian, Welsh, Danish, Chinese, and a few countries I can’t remember the names of. I’ve also met a few other Canadians, all from UBC.

The first hiking adventure I got was the last Sunday before school started. A few other international students and I decided to go to the Port Hills to do some tramping (kiwi slang for hiking). Christchurch is generally a very flat city, pretty much like Edmonton. Actually I think Edmonton has more hills than the Canterbury plains do, just because of the river. But, Christchurch is surrounded by mountains. The Port Hills, for example, are just a half-hour busride from the middle of town.

We took the bus towards these hills, our destination being an area called Victoria Park. After a short hike we came to the top of a mountain and we could see all of Christchurch laid out before us, with the Southern Alps to the North and the ocean to the East.

When we were at the absolute top and looked South, we could see Lyttelton Harbour.

Photo courtesy of Will Rynearson

Group photo! From left to right, the people in this photo are Will (USA), Heiko (Germany), moi, Andy (Austria), Gabe (USA), Carmen (Germany), and my flatmate Kristina (Austria).

After tramping the whole day, we decided to do a group dinner. We decided on pizza, since it’s pretty easy. Most of the group also live in the Ilam Apartments, so we had to go to Heiko’s place off campus since he has an oven.

The pizza was delicious, but kinda sweet. We all wondered why, until afterwards when we were cleaning up and we realized that we had put ketchup on our pizza in lieu of tomato sauce…

I mean, we’d all been told that kiwis call ketchup “tomato sauce,” and that it can be confusing, but none of us even thought about it when someone put a can of “tomato sauce” into the cart.

Who puts ketchup in cans anyway?

Well it doesn’t matter, it actually tasted pretty good, and we ate 5 pizzas among 6 people.

Photo courtesy of Carmen Widera

This being my first adventure, and what I came to New Zealand for, I was a super happy camper after that trip.