NZ Alex Knob

I woke gradually in Hokitika. I accidentally climbed into the wrong bunk last night after sending the email and it was occupied. I was wondering how much I drank.. To be fair I threw my backpack up there but apparently my mark of dominance wasn't enough and was cast on the floor. Next time I'll piss in the bed and then nobody will want to sleep in it. At least another bunk was open.

I drove through rainforest worthy mist and fog for hours until I got to Arthurs Pass. I want to reiterate that my mountain climbing is nowhere near as dangerous as NZ roads in mist and fog with a donut as a wheel.

I wanted to climb avalanche peak at 1833m but I couldn't see the top. Freezing level was predicted at 1700m so that means sleet. I abandoned that idea and stopped by the visitor center which pointed me to Bealey spur which is part of a subrange that leads into avalanche peak. I headed that way into dry and sunshine.

I couldn't find my damn hiking socks! This is a subcompact car, where the hell did I put them. I didn't want to wear socks that would eat my Achilles again. Suck! I ended up fashioning Achilles protectors for this hike, very pissed off that I couldn't find my socks. And these are like 18$ socks a pair. Where did they go?

Some girls saw me tearing my car apart and asked if I needed help. I looked up through my anger and disgust to see three Swiss and Norwegian beauties. Blonde, blue eyes, slender and all legs. Yes, indeed they could help, but not with my socks.

Back to business Mike, I prepared my 4 seasons NZ day pack and hustled after these gorgeous flowers. About 15 minutes later I passed two of the 3 who were having a hard time of the up. I exchanged pleasantries and pushed my throttle in pursuit of the up that I seek. About 30 minutes later I closed in on the third and most attractive in my eyes, because not only was she beautiful, but she hiked fast. Sensing a predator on her heels, she stepped up the pace. I love this game! I gave chase and pushed myself to exhaustion, rallied, pushed, and did it again. I started to jog but the gremlin was inhabiting my left Achilles and decided to restrain myself. I let my prey fall away, knowing I would go hungry from my lack of athletic prowess.

40 minutes later, and things are more steep. The forest around me is lovely, but it is a bit hot and dry. I'm listening to music and suddenly I'm the prey. She must have diverted for a she wee and caught me. But I am sly and clever and captured her for the next 30 minutes to the hut. These lovely ladies are 3rd year college kids on an adventure break in between classes. We chatted and I extracted my future plans. She and her friends had just rafted the Rangitata river which is currently flooded to class V, and that sounds like adventure to me.

We reached the hut and sat down for lunch. We were harassed by a kea who was a very cheeky. He was smart enough to pull the zipper to open my pack, and bold enough to do it with me a meter away! I did get some good pics and videos of the cute little fellow.

Her friends arrived after we had finished lunch. I was satisfied in my hunting abilities, and had no more use of my prey so I cast off up and upwards. I reached the first false prominence and realized there was a second. I pushed upward and attained the top of a knob only to realize this was a Ridgeline that disappeared into the ominous foggy darkness that I had so intended to avoid. I took the opportunity to photograph the amazing scenery that was presented to me in all the modes that my camera and cell would support. This was after all a rather special view, to be surrounded by the southern alps with a floor of moraine rivers.

As was to be expected, it was cold and blowing. I started my downhill to pass the two lovelies intrepid enough to climb to the knob. The third had retired to the car park. On my return trip I kept feeling that I was lost, like I hadn't been on this trail. I didn't remember that tree. Did I really climb that hill? Perhaps something was distracting me from my usually acute trail memory...

I met a not so fit Indian couple. They were only 3k up and both were sweating profusely and obviously not accustomed to up. The man impatiently asked me how far to the top. Maybe not impatient as much as hot, sweaty and out of breath. I told him the ridge doesn't end, it just keeps going g into the mountains which don't go back down again until the sea 50 km away. Which is the truth. He asked again. I said 6 or 7 km to the hut. He wasn't happy with that, and asked how long, and I told him it took me an hour and a half. He seemed ok with that, but I pointed out it is another 45 mins to the knob. I failed to mention that I hike faster than him.

I got to my car and saw the Blondie that didn't do the hike. My vector was set, a 4 hour drive lay ahead. No time to waste. Except I had hours to think of where I put my damn socks. And I was going to find them. I had 5 spots of hiding in decreasing likelihood. I got to number 4 before I found them. Ugh. Living out of a car is just like on a boat. Small space but still infinite abilities to hide things.

I set forth and found a new hostel in Geraldine, a really cute little town. I met a cool irishman hiking the entire length of the south island. Omg why do I keep meeting people and talking and therefore adding things to my list. We are in the middle of the country here, and he is a month in. I'm giving him a ride tomorrow. I hit downtown and had another great dinner and beer.

Tomorrow I'm booked to raft the Rangitata river and experience class V rapids! I'll also try to fix my tire and buy some stuff for my mountaineering course like anti blister tape.