NZ Alex Knob

Today was a great day! This was the exact mix of experience I was looking for. I woke my neighbors up in my hostel room with my phone. Not sure what etiquette is on that sort of thing. I probably don't care because they came in late and woke me up. I tried my best to move fast but my vacation mode slowed me down, and I wasn't at the trailhead until 9. I had intended to start by 8 so that the weather would be better. As I was prepping I glimpsed the mighty Mount Cook peeking through the clouds.
The trail was exactly what I have come to expect from NZ. It was very well kept, not a bit of garbage anywhere. Three varieties of tree ferns and a multitude of smaller ferns. Every surface and trunk is also coated with a carpet of green. Mosses, worts, tiny ferns, fungi, so pretty! It also didn't take long for the trail in to change directions from in to up. It was lovely to climb a mountain again, especially a big one. Strava told me I ascended a bit over 1100m today which is pretty good.
As I climbed I was threatened by the prospect of the clouds and weather. It would be unfortunate to climb so long only to be living in the cold wet clouds unable to attain the good viewpoint that I am searching g for. I had already resigned myself to the fact that Mount Cook wouldn't be in the shot, but I'd at least like to see the glacier so I don't leave with a bad opinion of it.
I had multiple opportunities to sight the glacier on my way up which lightened my spirits. After all, any day hiking up a nice trail in a pretty forest on a mountain in another country can't be too bad, hey.
On my previous NZ adventure the only shoes I had were ultralight trailrunners which were wholly inadequate, and left me with chronically wet feet. In Seattle I wore my hiking boots but the socks allowed them to rub holes through my skin towards my Achilles tendon. I have some good scars too. Today I nailed it with proper shoes and proper wool socks which eliminated badness on my feet. A curious other painful thing happened. I started with a creaky left knee, which I summarily dismissed according to my "shut up legs" mantra. Somewhere about an hour into it, the pain migrated to my right knee, because it is always best to share the love. An hour of ignoring that and the goblin descended to my right ankle where he persisted until the downhill slog, at which point he set up residence in my left ankle. I'm just very happy he didn't tarry in my groin as he took a circumnavigation of my joints. Conveniently a few beers at the pub must have put him to sleep until tomorrow.

Alpine climbing is like a game of strip poker where you start off losing, then you go on a winning streak and end up wearing every damn thing in your pack. But your luck doesn't hold and you end up stripped down and sweaty at the end.

As I approached the treeline I was greeted with blasts of katabatic frigid air falling off the mountain range. My athleticism was keeping me warm until the wind and temperature forced me to don a fleece, then a shell, then a medium shell, then my medium shell pants. And a head sock under my adventure hat. Freaking cold! How am I going to deal with life when I'm actually standing on the Tasman glacier on the east side of the mountain? I'm envisioning using all of my clothing as creatively as I did when I climbed the Tongariro crossing in NZ last time. My boxer shorts over my head. Two pairs of pants that don't fit. All my shirts in an attempt to make a single jacket. Socks for gloves. Maybe I'm a tad better prepared this time.

The top of the knob offered a decent view whenever the clouds weren't swirling down. I was at least 100m above where the clouds started, but they were spotty allowing me to take some good pics. At least I was very happy with this, and I was fascinated with the fine details of the glacier face. I'm going to be hiking across that terrain soon.

Lunch is so much better with a view, and I ate a rasher of smoked salmon, and assorted fruit. Seattle taught me that smoked salmon is actually the flesh of the gods, and it is best eaten at the top of mountains so that I can be more like them. This wasn't quite the salmon candy that I smuggled back from Victoria, but it made the other hikers look at me like wolves as they gnawed on cold tasteless granola bars as they waited for a break in the clouds for a picture.

I'm very lucky, because I had a 30 minute lunch break and several photo opportunities before the sleet started and the best thing to do was to get beneath the treeline. See, the forests of NZ and those around Seattle are the world's only two temperate rainforests. And it simply wouldn't be a walk through a rainforest if one didn't get rained on. And cold ice-containig rain at that, on top of a treeless knob blasted by katabatic air. Fun! I have been practicing running down hills quickly, and it shows!

As I descended the clothes came off but the rainy mist persisted right up to the car park. I listened to good music the whole time and I felt well satisfied that I had accomplished one of my goals. However I am a right and proper civilized person. After such a bit of effort it is time to relax, so I drove across the small town to partake of the hot baths.

The venue was perfect, co-located with the largest chopper tour operator. For 400NZD you can take a chopper to about 3000m, get out and tramp on the glaciers for 3 hours, then fly down to hop into the hot pools. I sat in the pools for over 2 hours, moving between the three temperature zones. I was so blissed out at times that I fell asleep only to awake when somebody entered or exited and made waves. I was in serious danger of asserting squatters rights. I saw the NZ equivalent of bouncers and I could totally take them. See there aren't any dangerous animals down here so they are complacent about security, foolish kiwis.

However I became embroiled with inner turmoil. Strava also told me I burned over 1500 calories today, and I was hungry! I shuffled out of the pool in my togs (speedo) and showered in the first class changing room, and once dressed i scooted on towards Hokitika, the only town on this coast with more than 200 inhabitants, but less than 2000.

I should point out that the most dangerous thing I've done thus far is drive about 400 km on a donut on NZ squiggly roads. The low speed driving bugged me, and I have heard that the only cops on this coast are borrowed from Christchurch because the can't afford one. The perfect opportunity to flagrantly break a foreign countries law and here I am afraid to go over 90 kmph because the donut will asplode. Next time NZ, next time.

I drove through alternating rain and fine weather. The green of the mountains was stunning when the skies opened, and I honked at cows to get them to look at me. Local entertainment.

Hokitika if a cute town that seems to exist here to sell very expensive Jade stuff. I checked in at a hostel and went to have a Flintstones steak. The description was just too good, but the result was better. Prawns on top of a steak with a big bone sticking out of one side, on a bed of juvenile potato's in three kinds of sauce with one on each layer, with a smattering of veggies with their own sauce, and the cheapest IPA I've had in months. So I had two. Fantastic!

Ok kids, that is the end of my story, I'm drunk and tired and need energy for adventures tomorrow.