Thank you!

I'm back home and it feels great.  It's an odd thing, returning from a vacation you didn't want to end but still being excited to be on home turf.

I was getting restless on the last flight and checked the flight map.  I saw we still had 2:18 hours to go until Ottawa.  I curled up in a ball and dramatically thought maybe I'll just die right here, because I can't possibly go another 2 and a half hours when I thought the flight was almost over.

As I was thinking about what it would be like to just pass away, alone, in an airplane seat, the captain announced we were descending into Ottawa.  What?!  If I were smart I would have noticed that the flight map was frozen and made it look as though we were hovering over Regina for two hours.  I'm blaming travel brain because surely I would have noticed this if I were my normal self.

Maybe.

I won't go into a big blabby post to summarize the trip.  I'll be brief.  It was everything I hoped it would be, and a little extra.  I learned more about myself, both good and bad, than I had anticipated.  I realized what I'm capable of, and quite frankly, what I'm not (hello, map reading!).  I made lifelong memories with a cherished friend.  A trip reminds a person of how big the world really is, how small their own life is in comparison, and gives both the opportunity, and the space, to try and connect those two somehow.  Sitting here jet lagged next to a pile of laundry, I feel very grateful.

A few photos that didn't make previous posts, below...

I'm also thankful for the chance to blog!  Thanks to my friend for forcing me to start one for this trip.  To the three of you, or however many "readers" there might be, thanks for following along.  Blogging was another part of this trip that I loved and knowing a handful of friends and family were reading the ups and downs added to the enjoyment of writing.  It's like capturing a sliver of a chapter of the story of my life, and that's both bizarre and lovely to me.

Because as we all know, anything ever posted on the Internet lives on forever.

Probably should have kept that in mind when I started this.  Hm.

Okay, signing off.  Thanks for reading, reader(s).

To future escapades…
Ade

High flying

It's hard to leave this behind. Even cheap instant coffee tastes good when you sip it looking at this.

It was off to the airport this morning (yesterday morning? Arg, time zones!) where Lacey and I met up with another friend who flew in for the week. The three of us had lunch in the airport before the other two headed off for fun times and I went to my gate. Saying goodbye again to Lace was hard; at least I know she will be back in Ottawa in just a few months! Countdown is on. 

At the gate, I ate most of the candy intended for the flights. 

From Queenstown to Auckland, I sat beside some guys who were in town on business.  They work for a Dutch farm machinery company and have customers all over NZ.  The one fellow pointed out that it was Friday the 13th so maybe we shouldn't be flying today. This was only the third flight in his lifetime so I could understand his nervousness, poor guy. 

Long story short, I missed getting my free cookie on board. This is a shame because Cookie Time chocolate chip cookies are outstanding and I had avoided buying one in Queenstown, knowing I'd get my fix on the flight.  

Other long story short, my special NZ manuka honey got confiscated by security which almost made me cry.  Not my proudest moment.  Then, found massive Cookie Time cookies in the airport store. The hour was redeemed. 

As a fundraiser, there were fire fighters doing group stairmaster up a downwards escalator.  Never seen this one before. I was mildly embarrassed taking a photo, but blog duty called. 

Other note about Auckland airport:  their signage was a bit confusing. For me, at least. 

Boarded plane to Vancouver. 

I didn't sleep much on the plane but I did watch a few movies, including Fault in our Stars, which left me crying like a school girl. Good thing it was dark. Teen fiction turned into movies, so emotional!

One more flight to go.  In a handful of hours, I'll be in Ottawa and I'll toss up one last post for good measure. 

What a trip it's been!! (Double exclamation required.)

Civilized

The last full day of my trip was great because the only must-do on the agenda was do very little walking, stock up on a few treats and eat a date scone.

On the bus ride into town, we met two sweet old ladies who were coming in for lunch with a friend. The chatty one asked if Lacey and I were going to be in town long, because if we were, we should go to visit them for tea!  Tea with old ladies?  This is my thing. Sadly, there was no time but we assured them that yes, next time. 

We had a late breakfast that got me re-hooked on cold oats. This craving will surely die when I get back to -30 degree weather. 

Afterwards, Lacey and I wandered (slowly) around the downtown, the waterfront and through the Queenstown gardens. 

We came across a stick swing on our walk, which I'm confident works better for children. 

For our last supper, the lowercase edition, we got take away sushi and a bottle of vino and enjoyed the fresh air. There might have been some Scrabble. You thought long division was wild!  We watched another episode of The Bachelor Australia, despite being in NZ, to end off my trip. I'll have to rely on Lacey to keep me updated...

I packed my suitcase. Just a few more hours of holiday left. 

Left foot, right foot, repeat

Sleep?  What is sleep?  Did I used to do that in a previous life?  Have I forgotten how to?  

Day four and I was wrecked before it started. There is no amount of coffee that can counterbalance that much tiredness. Another night of not sleeping. Lacey took a photo of us - after a couple of javas - at the start of our day. The bags under my eyes have bags of their own. You can barely tell I have eyeballs. As a good friend should, she offered to delete the photo. I suggested it be kept as a forever reminder to myself of exactly what my tired self can look like, because looking at it now, it's pretty hilarious. 

Obviously, it will not be posted on this blog because it would frighten you. 

Onward we went!  Kinda. There was a problem at the start of the hike, but it is also not making it onto this blog. We all know that a blog post needs some mystery. 

Fast forward a couple hours. We were making good time, which was important because we needed to be at the ferry pick up spot by 2pm.  We were once again spoiled by some breathtaking scenery. 

There was a lot of signing to be done. Lacey was shocked I didn't know Sound of Music tunes or anything by Blue Rodeo. I was shocked she didn't know the childhood classic, "Johhhhhhn, Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidtttt", but she thinks only German kids in Kitchener learn that song. Going to google that later. 

She also belted out a song from her Girl Guide days. You know when you learn a song as a kid and you don't actually think about the words?  And then for some reason you sing it as an adult and you're horrified by the lyrics coming out of your mouth?  Well, that happened, and we both almost peed our pants from laughing so hard. Again, could have been the tiredness but it was another unforgettable Milford moment. 

After correcting our lyrics to Wheat Kings and Lacey trying hard to make me remember a Blue Rodeo tune, the last shelter appeared. Yes. Lunch. Lunch. Lunch. 

And since it was the last lunch we could eat all the food. YES. 

Not that there was much left, but it seemed so exciting. I didn't feel awesome but devoured food anyway. I tried and continually failed to put my cutlery set back together; Lacey pointed out I had it backwards. Essentially, square peg, round hole. Too much for my brain to comprehend. 

We had the final part of the hike ahead. Just one... last... stretch. 

We made it to Sandfly Point, the one place in the forest with no sand flies!

Just kidding, that's where you can't get away from them. The park people built a fly shelter so hikers can hide out and not have their bodies eaten away while they wait for ferry rescue. I would have taken a picture but I don't think I remembered how to work a camera by this point. 

That last kilometre was painful. Lacey and I have never moved so slow. It was like we were moving sideways and not forwards. I kept thinking ferns were sign posts marking the end, and trees were the shelter. 

The hike was officially completed, all 53.5 kilometres. The weather was incredible and the landscapes were gorgeous. On the ferry, looking back at Milford Sound, I felt pretty thankful to have hiked somewhere so beautiful with such a great friend. The memories are endless!

And then we sat on a bus for five hours to get back to Queenstown. That's no easy feat after hiking, so Lacey and I fell out of the bus. The legs weren't working well!  At least we stopped for some ice cream half way. 

And then we waited an hour at Fergburger for massive, amazing burgers. The line up was long and I understood why once we got that food home. 

Unfortunately, while waiting for the burgers, we saw The Students who had also made it back to Queenstown. They were showered and had on clean clothes. We said hello and tried to forget we still looked greasy and smelled bad. 

You can't tell how giant that burger is, but it's the size of a small dinner plate. We cabbed home because we knew we couldn't climb the hill to our place, and our cab driver said we could have a free ride if we gave him a burger. We both snapped at him, told him we've been hiking and are starving so no, he can't have one.  He turned the radio on and stopped talking to us. 

A shower felt amazing after that trip. What I thought was a tan was actually filth; too bad. 

Lace and I were both happy to be done hiking, but were so glad we did it. What an experience!

If you squint, you can see Mr. O fishing on the river bank, right side. 

View from the top

Order of questions running through my mind at 5:30am on day three:

Why is there a rabies-infested, deranged cat screaming outside?

Why does it feel like Electric Circus and why won't it stop?

Did I sleep at all last night?

Answers: it's not a cat, it's a parrot. It's coming from the elderly Swedes.  No, definitely not. 

The alpine parrots, also called keas, are loud and social birds that had the cabin surrounded. This would have been cute if I were awake, but after a night of little Z's, it was fury inducing. Adding to my anger was that wretched light that the older man was seemingly directing into my eyeballs from one foot away. For at least twenty minutes. In a dark room. 

I'm pretty sure it was one of those high powered LED ones you're supposed to strap to a bicycle. I dramatically threw my sleeping bag over my head hoping he would get the hint. He didn't. The light carried on, and so did my disdain for that sweet old man.  Luckily he kept the glow sticks in his pack. 

I got out of bed/sleeping bag. Lace and I made breakfast. The Students were throwing packs together and some of the other hikers were getting ready for the day of the climb. I knew I needed double, doubly strong coffees if I had any chance of getting through the morning. 

No problem, I told myself. You'll feel better after food, caffeine, and a tooth brushing. Just need to go outside and find my boots in the pile and....

... Why does my right boot look different than the left?

Because a kea, which I'm told by a guide book I should feel "lucky" if I encounter, ripped out my boot lining and probably ate it. I told this to Lacey and also hoped the bird lost its ability to fly or eat or make any noise as a result of his petty theft. 

Did he not realize I had six hours of climbing on rocks to do that day?  

I doubled up right foot socks, cursed the bird again for good measure, and we got on our way. Mr. O, the teacher for The Students (who must moonlight as some kind of mountain man), gave some tips and tricks to the kids to essentially avoid falling off the hillside and getting good pictures. We took advantage of those. 

We had a lot of uphill walking to do. I learned that Lacey is very good at Two Truths and a Lie. I also learned about the strength of the wind on that track, and the weakness of my entire body when I'm trying not to be blown off the mountain by it. 

Lots of pictures were snapped at the top, most of which are on my real camera so these are just a few  to share. 

We were starving so we grabbed some food and then made our way to a hut.  A learning opportunity presented itself:

Not sure I needed to know that, but I believed it. 

We started the descent which I quickly learned was far more difficult than the climb. I was blabbing about all the mountaineering movies I love when I heard Lacey slip behind me. Thankfully (!!!) she didn't fall off the mountain but she was kind of upside down. 

I'm awful in these kinds of scenarios. Adding to the challenge was the foot width of the path. Lace banged up her knee so I rifled through my bag for my band aids, which I put in an easily accessible spot in case of emergency. 

After I unpacked most of my bag on the path, I couldn't find them, and Lacey had to go through her own bag to get the band aids she packed, in an easily accessible spot in case of emergency. 

We took our time for the rest of the descent. No more fancy footwork until we got back to the bottom of the steepest part. We clambered over many more suspension bridges, avalanche passes and water ways to make our way to the next shelter for lunch. 

Here we met another kea who was not even a little afraid of a human. He sat next to us and tried to take our stuff. Not just food, but anything he could get his beak on. He was very interested in my phone. 

At one point I got so annoyed at the parrot, I yelled at him like a bad dog, "NO!!!"  I didn't see a British fellow coming around the corner, who thought I was shouting at him. Oops. He didn't seem to mind as he quickly took a liking to the "two young birds", and he was not referring to the actual feathered creatures next to us. We did our best to avoid Birdman on the trail but decided he was harmless. 

It felt like another long chunk of time to the next rest point. I don't think I remembered how to tell time, I was so tired. At the rest spot, we were presented with a Choose Your Own Adventure option: keep going another hour to your last hut, or add another 1.5 hours to see Sutherland Falls. And then walk another hour to your last hut. See what happens. 

We decided to head to the falls. We dropped our packs at the rest point and carried on without them. You would think losing the heavy weight would put a spring in our step. Magically, it made us incredibly slow and for a brief moment (ie an hour), I was hoping the waterfall did something spectacular like rain puppies or turn into chocolate a la Wonka, because those were the only outcomes that would make hiking more than we had to, worthwhile. 

Okay. The falls were pretty awesome. The spray was cold, refreshing and lovely.  

I had a few minutes of delirium where I either pretended I was a dinosaur, or actually thought I was one, 

and started running around the waterfall-soaked ground like it was Land Before Time. Birdman was waiting behind a rock for us and probably saw this happen. I can't explain what that level of physical exhaustion plus no sleep was doing to me. Somehow, our spirits remained mostly high, likely due to perfect weather. 

We left the falls, trudged back to the rest point and devoured chocolate and caffeine and trail mix. It was the only way we would make it through another hour. 

I don't remember anything about that last leg except for my actual legs. Lace and I talked at length about how much our feet were killing us.  Then, the cabin appeared in all its glory. We threw down our packs, flung off our boots and ran (okay, shuffled) to the swimming hole. Ice cold water on swollen feet? Incredible. 

On our final night, we had no recipe to follow except boil water, add to bag, let stand, eat. Good thing, because I don't think we could have handled anything more complicated than that. We spent the evening chatting with our fellow hikers and I was relieved to hear that one woman cried on the way to the falls, she was so spent. She was in good company!

I was happy it was the last night in a hut. Given the distance we travelled that day and that much mountain air, there was nothing to do but crash for the night and be rested for 18km on the final hiking day. 

Smelllllly paaaack

Day two, the start of the "real" hiking, started off with a rain delay. I hardly slept thanks to heavy rain on a metal roof and sharing sleeping quarters with eighteen other people, none of whom know how to shut a door quietly. This is problematic when you're sleeping beside it. 

We got up and had our instant oat breakfast.  By this point, The Students were up. So was Ranger Sally who told us the bad news. 

This is a very frequent problem on the Milford track. In fact, it can flood so much they will airlift you out by helicopter!  Full disclosure: I was hoping for this worst case scenario so I would get The Bachelor-esque views of the mountains rather than having to climb up myself. 

Too bad, the rain stopped and all the hikers were given the green light. The eager ones practically ran off and me and Lace geared up. We pulled the rain covers out of our packs; if you're unfamiliar, it's essentially a rain coat for your bag. 

Go figure, mine smelled horrendous. I unfolded it and was met with the stink of sweaty, smelly plasticy vinyl. It wasn't as bad as my shoes in Sydney, but bad enough for me and Lacey to start singing about Smelly Pack to the tune of Pheobe's Smelly Cat. Thank goodness the rainy weather was short lived. I shoved that cover back into my pack and prayed for no rain... not because I wanted sun, but because I couldn't handle Smelly Pack for three days. No. 

We got a good taste of all kinds of fantastic sights all morning. 

We stopped for snacks, photos and rests along the route.  After a few hours, we lunched among the sand flies and I discovered one of my new favourite candies, Jet Planes. We rationed one small bag over three days between the two of us. That's as impressive as the landscape. 

The alpine, rainforest and prairie sections of the route brought different birds in our path, literally. 

On my camera, and not on my iPhone, are pictures of the elusive chicken-duck.  He has the face of a duck and the run of a chicken. He also has the eyesight of a fruit bat so he practically ran into us before he realized we were standing there. I'll upload those pictures later. 

The afternoon felt long and the last hour was uphill. The quads weren't happy with me. One of The Students caught up to us and aptly questioned, to no one in particular, "does this site even exist?!"

Eventually, there it was. We wasted no time claiming bunks and getting dinner going.  We made a massive pot of cheesy, chickeny risotto and wondered how we would pack the leftovers away. This problem no longer existed when we decided we would just eat it. Lacey and I agreed that in this situation, it's better to carry weight in your stomach. 

With a lack of cards and no board game in sight, we did the next most fun thing we could think of. 

You'd be surprised at how hilarious long division and fraction multiplication can be when you're tired. 

After verifying a few answers with a calculator, we decided that was more fun than we could handle for one night and we called it a day two. Day three was the big climb so a solid sleep was beyond necessary, especially given my lack of sleep the night before. 

Bring on the Mackinnon Pass.