Staying in NZ

I've been enjoying my life in Queenstown so much that I think I'm going to stay. It looks like California and American paddling will have to wait until I've done a winter season. Here are some pics from Andy and I up in Castle Rock, and some more from spending time with my sister and brother-in-law.

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Flying NZ

The Remarkables by sunset

So it's been a while, but eventually I found my way back into the skies again.

New Zealand has been one of those places where it's so difficult to fit everything in, and I've been looking at my wing sat in the corner of my room for the last 4 months wondering when I'd get airborne again. You know that when you haven't done something you enjoy for a long time, you forget the enjoyment it brings you. Paragliding had become a little like that for me... I was also a little scared. After such a long time, would I remember what to do?? Is that really a good idea when you're running off the side of a mountain?!

Eventually the weather turned super calm and there was very little wind. My knee hurt too much to run, bike or climb and I had sold my creek boat. I decided it was time to fly again. Near to where I live there is a ski hill called Coronet Peak, from which you can fly, and there's even a convenient patch of grass which acts as a landing zone for a variety of air based activities. I caonvinced my friend Tim to drive my van back to the bottom, laid out my wing, fastened myself into my harness, hooked the wing up the harness and ran off the side of the mountain one evening after work. Luckily I did everything right... and I loved flying again!

I repeated this the following day.

The next day I rested.

The following day, whilst still at work I got a text from a paragliding friend called Ray. I hadn't managed to get up in the air with him yet, despite various attempts. This time I thought it would be the same - he had invited me flying whilst I was still at work. The next text asked if I wanted to get in a chopper after work, fly up to the top of the local big peaks, the Remarkables, in a helicopter and fly off... I had my wing and harness in the van. I was in! I spent the rest of the day at work super excited, to say the least.

The chopper flight next to the cliffs

Stoked to be on the top

I met a bunch of folk at the heli field, it's very unusual for the conditions to be stable enough to allow for evening flights off the Remarks (it has to be in the evening because it is in the flight path for the airport here!). There were in fact 36 paragliders all ready to go. I was in the second group to get taken up, and the heli flight itself was exciting enough, pretty much straight up the sheer sides of the Remarks! When we landed I was blown away by the beauty. When I saw the take-off, I was blown away by my nerves. A rocky slope of 50 yards, then 2000m of oblivion, all in a gully with rocks either side. We had to wait an hour or so for the rest of the group to get dropped and then, as the sun began it's slow dip into the horizon we began to take-off.

Ready to go

The take-off... gulp.

The waiting was terrible. There was lots of happy and funny banter, which I took part in, but inside I was nervous to the core. I'd only been back in the harness a couple of days! People headed out, most getting good take-offs, and only a few false starts. Then it was my turn... I laid out, lined up and ran off the edge.... and soared into the air!! The oblivion turned into a floating playground. I played around the cliffs for a while, soaring back and forth accross the butresses of stone and pillars of sharp rock. One my favorites is taking yourself near to the edge of steep ridges and skimming over them out into the open air the other side. The sense of scale is breath-taking. After a while I noticed the sunset was stunning and I floated away from the Remarks to get some pictures. Hanging in the sky with my camera as the sun set, I was blissfully happy, underneath me was the beautiful landscape I had been a part of, working and playing in for the last few months. Here I was, gliding above it, in all it's glory as the sun-set below the jagged horizon. I thought I was getting a bit low and so I made for the landing, a big field, quite a distance away (10kms). I arrived a lot higher than I had imagined at maybe 500m which gave me some time to play. As the darkness drew in I was spiralling and swinging under my wing, the exhilaration and G-forces bringing a grin to my face. To top it all I had a lovely landing. What a perfect way to spend an evening after work. Even today, the day after, I still find myself smirking that smug smirk of satisfaction at enjoyment beyond the norm.

The lines that held me in the setting sky

Not a bad view for an evening after work

Some random pics from NZ

Here's some various pictures of various favorite activities and views out here.

Nice view down lake Wakatipu near the local bouldering spot, Janrdine's.

Colin throwing down at the local wave on the Dog-Leg section of the Kawarau.

Funny faces at the Citroen Race on the Kawarau.

Bouldering my favorite route at Jardine's.

Hanging around at Elephant Roacks, near Duntroon.

Motatapu

This was clearly one of those strange ideas that get into your head. In this case it was put there by Jenny, but some of my miss-firing neurones took it on as a "good idea". She had suggested that we run the Motatapu mountain marathon, a full length marathon passing through the mountains of South Island. I agreed to do it.

Quite where this confidence that I could run a marathon, let alone a cross-country marathon which passes over 800m, came from, I do not know. Although I had been fit enough to compete in an adventure race in Edinburgh before I left, Nepal hadn't done my fitness or confidence much encouragement. My knees hadn't stood up to climbing mountains, my steady diet of 'as much as possible', and my paragliders training cigarettes were not a promising start!

Things were a little different here in NZ. I managed to get running again, and I was working outdoors. However the work also meant more money and more play, which in turn made me consume more alcohol at the weekends! I stuck to my rough training regime of a run once in a while for the first couple of months, and tried to eat well. It all took a knock when Jenny and I ran up the Routeburn to the 2nd hut. On the way back down I pushed it a bit hard and my knee 'went'. I'm still not really sure what it is exactly, some failure in my lateral ligaments, but it basically means I lose all power in the knee, and it hurts a lot to move. This didn't look good. I stopped running for a few weeks. With about a month to go till the race, I tested it out again, and it survived. So for the next few weeks Jenny and I worked our way up to a 30km full mountain run. We felt okay, and my knee felt pretty solid. I was running 3 times a week until the final few days when I rested up.

The day before race day I was allowed off work to rest up. I bought a couple of last minute items and generally ate a lot and lay about a lot. Nerves also began to creep in... I had set myself the target of at least beating last years average male time of 4hrs and 25mins, secretly I wanted to get below 4 hrs. I must have packed and re-packed my race bag about 20 times. Eventually it was time to pick Jenny up and drive through to Wanaka, where the race would begin at 8am the following morning. Anj, a friend of ours had generously donated beds to our cause in her home in Wanaka. Unfortunately, and I have already apologised, I do not think me and Jenny made the best conversationalists, our minds finding themselves somewhat pre-occupied.

A fitful sleep gave rise to pitch black alarm beeping it's morning mahem next to my ear. 5:45am, not an hour I'm ever that pleased to see. Both me and Jenny groaned our way awake and got ourselves together. Forcing down a reasonable breakfast and creating the energy drinks to go in the camel-backs which would sustain us through the day, we eventually threw our stuff in the van. It was bloody freezing, let's just say that lycra tights and small shorts did not keep the vitals cosy. We began the drive to the start alone in the cold morning air. Within a few minutes on the road out of town, a convoy materialised around us. Red lights weaving their way towards our first goal, the start-line.

Once directed to the parking spot, listening to a final tune from my iPod, and we gathered our things together. I had a spare bag of clothes to send to the finish - my van would remain in Wanaka, and I wasn't going to run back and get it! We joined the other nervous folk in the line waiting for the bus to the actual start-line, a little further up into the mountains. There were a couple of Kiwis from Invercargill, who made plenty of jokes, and an Irish guy who was looking to get a similar time to myself. We had to wait a while for the bus to pick us up, the sky lightening the whole time, for about 20 mins, but soon we were on our way.

The sunrise was in full swing at the start-line as we picked up our transponders (personal timing gadgets you attach to your shoe) and the stunning mountains were revealed. Rolling, green hills, occasionally climbing and tapering to rocky summits which enclosed the lush Motatapu valley we would be running up. A little behind schedule the gun went, and the 700+ runners sweating anticipation took off.

Jen and I all kitted up and ready to go.

The run itself I found a very personal and strange thing. I found that although I chatted to the folk around me a fair amount, I did not stay with anyone for long and existed mostly within my own eyes and head. I soaked in the scenery rolling past and focused on the rocky path ahead. For the first 30kms it wears relentlessly upwards, torturing you with undulations of steep ascents, often followed by shorter, but equally as steep descents. I was however making good time. The first 20kms rolled past within 1.5 hrs and I was feeling okay considering. The next few kilometres were my undoing as my knee began to twinge, and by 30kms was absulute agony. Stopping me to a walking pace and forcing me to knock back Ibruprofen, I was an angry man, my strongest part, the downhill, would be an agonising slog. I managed a limping half-run which somehow got me downhill, my emotions in tatters, exhaustion and pain mingling with the huge rush of endorphins to leave me realing in the final few kilometres. Although you cross numerous streams through the earlier part of the run, the final 2km takes you through the Arrow River around 7 times. Running thigh deep, and freezing in from the recent snow-fall, this was absolute agony for me. Cramps rippled through me. At this point you're in public land again and people began to line the track, urging you to the finish. I upped my pace to a loping run, and with a grin spied the finishing line. Hearing the announcer calling my name I limped through the finish, a minute or so between other competitors, and so mostly alone. I had managed to get below last years average, with 4hrs and 19mins. I was just happy it had finished! Making my way to the side of the track, I waited for Jenny to appear. Just before the 5 hrs came up she appeared and the crowd clapped and cheared her sprint finish to the line. Colin had also appeared alongside me a few minutes before Jenny crossed the line, so we greated her with a big hug. We then got ourselves a nice, cold glass of beer! Let's just say that for the rest of the day, I ate, I drank and I slept. Today my knees hurt, but the body is still willing. I think I might try another, next time some physio for the knee will get me past that 4 hr mark, but I'll just have to prove that.

The start



Pretty stunning running!

Last couple of km to go. Ouch.

Go on! Jen charging the finish.

Road trip to Akaroa.

So I promised to update on any mad missions I've been getting up to... but it's mostly been the general ticking over of outdoors fun and bits of work.

The only major mission was a trip up to the Banks Peninsula, just to the East of Christchurch. I have a friend from Scotland, Pete, who's headed there with his kiwi girlfriend Hannah. He's managed to get one of the sweetest jobs I've heard of - taking tourists to swim with the world's smallest and rareist dolphins, the Hector's Dolphin (or Heckie Ds as Pete affectionately calls them). Since he opened up an invite to come visit and get a free swim, I thought I'd take him up on it.

Both Si and Monica decided that they were up for a bit of a road trip and with just under a week to spare inbetween work off we went. The route we took was a little convoluted, a mixture of my innability to grasp the 3 roads that leave Queenstown and some interesting route decisions by Simon. We did however have plenty of good tunes - I'd managed to fix up the sound system in my van to combat the possibility of us singing the entire journey. Have you ever heard groups of kayakers singing? It'd probably be one of the last things you would hear...

Our route up started by winding our way out of the mountains around Queenstown. We then hit the plains. This was a particularly boring part to drive, although some of the views were fairly fantastic. We were blessed with some splendifarous weather (which luckily for me mostly toasted the passenger side.. unluckily for Si's arm) and super clear views. The became apparent when the mountains reared up again, in the form of Mount Cook from lake Takapu. Although the pictures can't quite convey it - the "blueness" which suddenly hit you after hours of withered grasslands and fields was astounding. Needless to say we all wanted to stop and took a thousand pictures.

The journey itself ended up taking us around 9 hours, which wasn't too bad. After dropping Monica with a friend in Christchurch, Si and me carried on to meet Pete in the pub in Akaroa. No surprises there! A few cool pints put the journey easily behind me and we headed back to Pete's place.

The next few days were a blur of good food, dolphins and sea. I've never eaten so much in my life, mostly thanks to the fact that Hannah's folks own a magnificent delhi in Akaroa, and the fresh fish sandwiches cooked on the wharf by the fisherman's wife, and the BBQs etc. etc. It has to be said that a fair amount of beer may also have been consumed, but this is no surprise when you meet up with your Scottish friends!

A big thanks must be passed onto Pete and Hannah. Not only did we get to follow hundreds of Heckie Ds as they followed behind the local fisherman (although they weren't up for playing), but we also got to go water-skiiing in the bay. Unfortunatley Pete tore some ligaments in his foot, but everyone else had a laugh - even Si, who gave the best impression of an anchor I've seen! We visited a variety of small bays dotted around the place (the Banks Peninsula is dotted with them) and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. When the time came, we were sore to leave, and it wasn't just the hangovers from the night before, or the vague memories of a trampoline...

On the trip back we headed a little further East so that we could drop by some boulders we had heard about near Duntroon, called Elephant Rocks. These are some great examples of the surprises that geology here in New Zealand can throw at you. In the middle of what appears to be relatively rolling hills, you can come accross something like this. Amazing limestone boulders rising seamlessly from the rolling grass. Sculptured by the wind they form all kinds of weird shapes, dotted with holds and the chalk of those that come to scale them. The 2 hours Si and me got to explore them was barely enough to scratch the surface of the innumerable problems (routes) there. But we did our best and left with sore limbs, finger-tips and bruised egos! It was a long drive back, as Simon's short cut took us over Danson's Pass, a 2 hours off-road mission. Luckily it turned out to be beautiful and dramatic to say the least. Work the following day was HARD.

Apart from that, training continues, work continues and our repertoire of friends increases.

Picures will be up soon - I just need a better connection...

For the moment, since I managed to forget the correct memory card and this damn computer won't recognise my hard-drive, here's a link to some pics up on facebook.

New Zealand - a general outdoor paradise.

The 4x4 van of terror loaded up and ready to roll... anywhere!

I like spending money and so far in New Zealand I have acheived this with flying colours. Not only have I bought a van and a kayak, but also a mountain bike. I think that maybe I should extend my stay and working options a little further...

Anyway, within one day of being in the country I hooked up with the local bike shop here in Queenstown and headed off on a biking mission. A really nice blend of steep downhill single-track greeted me in Skipper's Canyon, followed be an hours slog back up the mountain road. I was certainly not flying back uphill - 2 months either sat in a boat in the water, sat in a harness in the air, or sat on my backside drinking tea has ensured the wasting of my legs! Anyway, it was brilliant getting back in the saddle again.

My first river in New Zealand has been the Nevis river nearby to Queenstown. A fantastic and out-the-way run that requires a drive over some stunning hills remeniscent of the Dartmoor tors (except sunny and surrounded by snow capped mountains). I hooked up with Doctor Robin and Ben Hawthorne (previously of Desperate Measures) and it took us 9 hours to complete the run. It wasn't without drama, as at one point myself and Robin waited round a corner for Ben to appear after running an inconsequential corner he had got out to scout. Just as we were getting out to walk back up, Ben appeared on the riverbank, without boat. It took us an hour and a half of exciting rope-work and muscle wrenching to get the boat from out under the boulders and river Ben had managed to sink it under. I was just pleased Ben wasn't still in the boat. Still a glorious run, with a great big water finish running the Citroen rapid on the Kawarau river at over 300 Cumecs (cubic meters of water per second).

Since my inaugeration to Kiwi paddling I've managed to tick off the Waikia and two day Perth off my big list. Both incredible rivers with their own merits. The Waikia for it's first rapid, a 20 foot tunnel formed by a boulder off a 15-20 waterfall, which you cannot inspect. The Perth for being a 2 day helicoptor drop run (provisions being dropped at the hut roughly halfway down) with it's own dreamlike 15ft boof in the centre of the flow.

Colin so fast he's a blur on this staunch rapid on the Waikia

Colin actually pulled this off on the Perth. Nice one Col!

A pic of me doing the Perth boof.

Unfortunately the Perth also proved a little much for my unstable shoulders - pinned on a rock above a nastly choked grade 5 section, after getting a beating on the section above, I shifted to grab a line thrown to me and... washed upside-down off the pin to run the entire following section on my head, one hand on paddle. In trying to get hold of my paddle, whilst being thumped off rock, I subluxed my right shoulder (a partial dislocation) and bruised the ligaments. Luckily I could still paddle the half day out, but it was sore and I've not pushed the kayaking since - giving the shoulder a chance to stabalise again. Everybody else had a storming day, Danny, Colin, Si and Sean all hitting their lines and styling it down the river.

A spot of bouldering near Queenstown

Since then I've been enjoying the myriad of activities that New Zealand has to offer. Within spitting distance of Queenstown, where I have set up residence with Ben, Si and Sean, there's a whole host of outdoor classics. From climbing to frisbe golf, I'm hitting it all as hard as I can. I currently sport hands with all kinds of ridiculous holes and blisters on them - raw fingertips from bouldering on the sharp schist to a strange blisters on the sides of my fingers from frisbe golf. Nights out with the guys from Queenstown rafting is adding to the difficulty in training for the cross country marathon I have, for some unknown reason, entered. The Mototapu Icebreaker marathon runs through Shania Twain's estate out here and is supposedly the 'most beautiful marathon in the world.' I just hope I can appreciate this as I drag my sorry arse through it. We shall see - if you're not too busy on the 14th March, spare a thought for my little legs.

A 20 km practice run up the Routeburn Valley

I'm pretty sure that I should get my updates a little more detailed - but I'm currently spread so thin on many activities that nothing significant sticks out, it's all great! Hopefully I'll get some proper missions underway soon, otherwise I'll try and keep everyone updated with my general activities.

Sirkot expedition

My last major trip in Nepal was to Paraglide from Sirkot. I had a brief respite from the air to paddle the normal section of the Marsyandhi in lower water. It was good to note that although the damn has now been closed... there is still enough water to do the lower section! There has only really been one rapid lost.

Sirkot was cool, although I managed to turn up late to leave (I usually wake at 6am - not this time), there were lots of my new friends from Blue Sky Paragliding there. Kayla and Johnny from NZ being two of them. Guillaume also managed to get his wing in time and came along. There was a whole other mix of folk too.

The journey up was, well for want of a better description, bone-shaking. Although we had around 3 hours on the road (remember these are Nepali roads....) we then had to endure another 3 hours on a 4x4 trail. All this crammed into the back of a delapidated jeep, army style. I had the added pleasure of a huge gas cylinder between my legs. I have to admit that looking at the random grimaces of pain from those that hadn't visited back country Nepal before did put a smile on my face. Evil I know, but I've kinda got used to being battered around the place.

Once at Sirkot (a large cone shaped hill at around 2000m) we were greeted by a thousand curious kids and tremendous views. As we set up camp, some folk took a late afternoon flight and I helped get water and wood with our Nepali guides/ my friends Bhoudhi and Babu. On the way back I bumped into my instructor, Patrick, the owner of Blue Sky, David Arufat (ex Acrobatic world champion) and a couple of the other clients. They were off caving and I decided to join them, even though the only torch I had was a little LED at the base of my lighter. The caves were fantastic, we squeezed through holes and crawled through passages underground for over 2 hours. At one point we found ourselves in a cavern where bats roosted (not sure if that's the right word). They were only little bats, but we could get our noses to within centimetres of them and some were huddled in groups of 5 or more. Very cool. David had explored these caves before and is certain that if he can find a way down to the lower levels there will be a huge cavern. I believe him, they seem to go on forever.

Eventually we emerged, blinking and covered in muck, into the evening light. We headed back up to camp for dinner in the dark. I was reminded that crazy paragliders also make mental 4x4 drivers. Dinner was the usual genius combination of wonderful soup followed up by enormous amounts of Daal Bhat and wild pig. A bunch of Babu's special warmed rum punch lubricated and heated our evening by the fire. Mad stories were delivered by Setou, who turned out to be a film comedian of Nepali fame. His transformations of character were quite incredible and occasionally eerie by the fire-light.

The next morning delivered the sun-rise of champions. Once again a low level valley cloud underpinned the scene, as the sunlight slowly made it's way up through it's many hues and painted the himalayas. Quite breathtaking.

I snapped as many pictures as I could and then sat down to absorb the day breaking and let it envelope me as the others stirred. A large and late breakfast then set us up ready for the flight.

We had a briefing of our flight plan from David and then waited for the conditions to become right. The thermals rising up off the hillsides ready to lift us into the air were an indication it was time to go... Although my flight was fun, I didn't manage to get over into the next valleys. Some of the experienced pilots managed to make it all the way back to Pokhara. I landed in a large field and was soon joined by the other new starts. I then spent the next couple of hours on the radio trying to track down the other pilots that hadn't made it as far as Pokhara, picking them up in the van with our Nepali driver. Eventually we collected all those that hadn't made it and headed back to Pokhara ourselves. I opted for a large evening meal of steak with Johnny, Kayla, Guillaume and Patrick. I'm fairly sure there was probably some beer involved too....