It's been a big week for sports. I went to a tournament in Breckenridge last weekend. I was invited up Friday morning. The team was thrown together, but the setting was perfect. I had several of those "I can't believe I live here" moments as I was looking at the mountains and preparing for my first non-beach Ultimate tournament in ages.
The team, named GRUDGE, came together well. We clicked, we pulled in pick-up after pick-up, sometimes from the very team that would play us next. The pick-ups seemed to get better as the weekend went on. We went 2-2 on Saturday. I had 5 turns and a few nice highlights including a grab on a hammer that had seemingly sailed over my head. Somehow I hung in the air and it stuck to my hand. Sunday, we made quick work of the first team, although my layout resulted in some ringing ears and then we made pretty quick work to avenge a loss from Saturday. We took our semi-final game to 9-9 before succumbing 13-10. I got to land our last punch, though, with a down wind high release backhand break. I'm skipping over a few moments, including a not-so-pretty argument where I was unintentionally in a guy's face regarding a strip call and a whole lot of anger over bad score-keeping. I'm skipping over some good moments too including a hot tub and no turns on Sunday that I can recall. I'm amazed and thrilled that I made it through 7 games. I've definitely hurt worse.
I farmed on Monday and played in a disappointing league game that we lost by a point. My feet and boy were starting to complain, but I managed a slow bike ride and a light run to get ready for the 5k still ahead.
Good times.
Nursing some soreness, I entered a 5k on the fourth of July. It was poorly run, but I was able to knock it out with a performance that looked a lot like my last 5k. The plan was to follow one of my brother-in-law's high school stars, but in the first 400 meters I realized that her pace wasn't quite what I had in mind. I heard cheers for her all the way though, so my pace wasn't a whole lot quicker. There wasn't a lot of intrigue in the race. I'd expected 18:30 and I ran 18:26. I was fighting hard to beat the lead dog at mile one (5:52), but never saw him again after he and his owner stopped for water. I crossed the 2-mile alone at 11:46, passed one more guy with about 800 meters to go, struggled to manufacture any sort of kick and finished 8th, well back of 7th and about 10 seconds ahead of 9th.
It was nice to be back on the fields and on the run. I need to grab a little more of that glory this summer.
Saturday, July 06, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
It's all new except what isn't
So much has changed lately, but I return to write about a familiar topic. I'm not sure why I keep coming back to it. As I watched The Office series finale and Jim said of the documentary of Dunder Mifflin something like, "You've given me a tape that's allowed me to watch myself grow up. How cool is that?" I thought, SUPER COOL. It's the highlight reel I've often dreamt about. This blog might be mine. There are many highlights and much to consider, but I'm drawn to the sports highlights.
I'm in a new place in a new city. I'm struggling to find my way a bit; just as things were about to get a little ugly, not Atlas Shrugged ugly, but someone smoking at the table next to me ugly, Ultimate leapt back into my life.
I'd been thinking about letting it fade away. I'd been able to play winter league in DC. I missed out as my team went on to be champions, but I'd helped in the regular season. My body had held up. Now, without physical therapy and more limited transportation options, it seemed like maybe Ultimate was something that I could let slide away. I was missing CUA terribly and playing didn't seem like a remedy. A new home could mean new hobbies.
Instead, a friend, a former teammate from DC, who moved out here several years ago announced that I was playing with his team in spring league. "Before someone else scoops you up," he said. I accepted. The scoop became like an embrace. For much of spring the embrace took place in and between snow storms, but it breathed new life into my new life. I'd sit on the couch on Monday nights an hour before I could even reasonably leave for my game and twitch. I'd scurry around the house packing my things. I'd do a little extra stretching and I'd be excited to play.
Move ahead seven weeks through some ups and downs and many very close games. We won some and lost some and I enjoyed them a lot. A whole lot. Highlight of my week, lot. Monday, it was time for our playoff game. Somewhere along the line, the team had realized that I was the youngest player, or at least the youngest male. I share that fact because it surprised me. I don't feel like I could be the youngest. Many times during the spring as I faced off against those ten or more years younger, it showed. The fun, the joy I feel at running around and snagging discs, though, that feels timeless. I felt young, younger, youngest out there.
Monday night, I came to play. I was nervous about my usual aches and I had blisters on both my palms. I wasn't sure how my body was going to do, but I was still ready to go. The game was pretty sloppy and subject to momentum shifts. Our team had trouble on offense and the stack was stagnating.
I may be the youngest on the team, but I'm far from the tallest. This worked in my favor. Instead of drawing the taller defenders, I got to pick on someone my own size when on offense. As the disc moved to one of our handlers with a penchant for hammers, I saw my opening. The disc moved to my side of the field, I was basically in the lane, but there was a clear, though rather long, path to the opposite corner of the end zone. I glanced at the handler with a look that could only mean, "look for the hammer" and I took off running. He didn't disappoint. He reared back and launched a hammer that nearly flew too far, but managed to sneak past the jumping defender and into my hands. It was quite satisfying.
Later, on the wrong end of a momentum shift, a play was called. The play was, get it to Will and huck it to Dave. As the disc moved to Will, I cut a few steps across the field and then took off to the forehand corner. The throw went up and began to slice back toward the middle of the field. I tracked it and once again had good fortune that my hands were especially sticky on this evening. Yes!
Nearly everything was working for me, although one big huck did get off endzone to endzone right through my straight up mark. Still, the cutting had gone well. I handled for a bit and felt like I was moving it well and had some nice up the line cuts, but things down field weren't developing. I was stuck and my dump was covered. The force was forehand and I wanted to get off a backhand dump. The count was at 8 when a second handler made an up the line cut. I didn't have time to adjust to my forehand so I just brought my backhand through and flipped it ahead. It was a fine mixture of creativity and desperation. It's not something that usually works out for me, but it did there.
I got a tipped disc, not quite a handblock, and threw a nice looping inside out for a score, but still we struggled as a team to pull it all together. I had my eye on a callahan, but that requires a fast twitch that seems to be missing from my game. We took half 7-6, but succumbed to the final momentum surge and lost 8-7. I'm proud of the way I played and proud of the way the team kept coming back. I don't understand entirely what it takes and means to win, not in a recreational league and not at higher levels, but I know that playing and battling meant a great deal. Playing well was a thrill and reliving it has carried me through the week.
There are questions about winning, losing, aging, and narcissism swirling inside me, but I think I'd rather day dream about chasing plastic and get ready to go again when summer league starts.
I'm in a new place in a new city. I'm struggling to find my way a bit; just as things were about to get a little ugly, not Atlas Shrugged ugly, but someone smoking at the table next to me ugly, Ultimate leapt back into my life.
I'd been thinking about letting it fade away. I'd been able to play winter league in DC. I missed out as my team went on to be champions, but I'd helped in the regular season. My body had held up. Now, without physical therapy and more limited transportation options, it seemed like maybe Ultimate was something that I could let slide away. I was missing CUA terribly and playing didn't seem like a remedy. A new home could mean new hobbies.
Instead, a friend, a former teammate from DC, who moved out here several years ago announced that I was playing with his team in spring league. "Before someone else scoops you up," he said. I accepted. The scoop became like an embrace. For much of spring the embrace took place in and between snow storms, but it breathed new life into my new life. I'd sit on the couch on Monday nights an hour before I could even reasonably leave for my game and twitch. I'd scurry around the house packing my things. I'd do a little extra stretching and I'd be excited to play.
Move ahead seven weeks through some ups and downs and many very close games. We won some and lost some and I enjoyed them a lot. A whole lot. Highlight of my week, lot. Monday, it was time for our playoff game. Somewhere along the line, the team had realized that I was the youngest player, or at least the youngest male. I share that fact because it surprised me. I don't feel like I could be the youngest. Many times during the spring as I faced off against those ten or more years younger, it showed. The fun, the joy I feel at running around and snagging discs, though, that feels timeless. I felt young, younger, youngest out there.
Monday night, I came to play. I was nervous about my usual aches and I had blisters on both my palms. I wasn't sure how my body was going to do, but I was still ready to go. The game was pretty sloppy and subject to momentum shifts. Our team had trouble on offense and the stack was stagnating.
I may be the youngest on the team, but I'm far from the tallest. This worked in my favor. Instead of drawing the taller defenders, I got to pick on someone my own size when on offense. As the disc moved to one of our handlers with a penchant for hammers, I saw my opening. The disc moved to my side of the field, I was basically in the lane, but there was a clear, though rather long, path to the opposite corner of the end zone. I glanced at the handler with a look that could only mean, "look for the hammer" and I took off running. He didn't disappoint. He reared back and launched a hammer that nearly flew too far, but managed to sneak past the jumping defender and into my hands. It was quite satisfying.
Later, on the wrong end of a momentum shift, a play was called. The play was, get it to Will and huck it to Dave. As the disc moved to Will, I cut a few steps across the field and then took off to the forehand corner. The throw went up and began to slice back toward the middle of the field. I tracked it and once again had good fortune that my hands were especially sticky on this evening. Yes!
Nearly everything was working for me, although one big huck did get off endzone to endzone right through my straight up mark. Still, the cutting had gone well. I handled for a bit and felt like I was moving it well and had some nice up the line cuts, but things down field weren't developing. I was stuck and my dump was covered. The force was forehand and I wanted to get off a backhand dump. The count was at 8 when a second handler made an up the line cut. I didn't have time to adjust to my forehand so I just brought my backhand through and flipped it ahead. It was a fine mixture of creativity and desperation. It's not something that usually works out for me, but it did there.
I got a tipped disc, not quite a handblock, and threw a nice looping inside out for a score, but still we struggled as a team to pull it all together. I had my eye on a callahan, but that requires a fast twitch that seems to be missing from my game. We took half 7-6, but succumbed to the final momentum surge and lost 8-7. I'm proud of the way I played and proud of the way the team kept coming back. I don't understand entirely what it takes and means to win, not in a recreational league and not at higher levels, but I know that playing and battling meant a great deal. Playing well was a thrill and reliving it has carried me through the week.
There are questions about winning, losing, aging, and narcissism swirling inside me, but I think I'd rather day dream about chasing plastic and get ready to go again when summer league starts.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Inauguration Station
The stated reason for waking up at 6:00 AM was to follow Jim down to the mall and to take a contest-entry-worthy photo of the festivities that engulf this town every four years. Even as I pulled on my long johns and threw my camera bag over my shoulder I knew that photos were secondary to something else.
I walked through the dark and found the streets mostly empty of cars and populated with growing foot traffic. There was energy in the air, but it was more relaxed than the energy of four years ago.
This was my third inauguration, but my first chance to walk into history. As we wound around and around and around the security barriers, it turned out that walking into history was more circuitous than I'd expected. The crowds came together into a mass and then shed a bit at each entrance for the ticketed. After an hour of walking, we finally reached the crush of general public making their way onto the National Mall.
A mere four hours from the ceremony and the big screen TVs were already playing reruns and Ellen jokes. It was the first round of several. The crowd looked large, but again not the crowd of the first swearing-in. We wandered a bit, priced handwarmers (two for $5, two for $8, if you paid more than $1 you were ripped off), and took a few opportunities to sit. The mall itself was covered in plastic and it felt a bit like being on the roof. (National Treasure would have a field day with that, but it kept us out of the mud.)
As I waited, and looked around, I saw some of the hope and change, but still couldn't quite figure out why we, or really I had come. I was a good 100,000 people away from the capitol and watching the pageantry on TV. There was plenty of Obama paraphernalia, a few chants of U.S.A., and a lot of stars and stripes. More were on their way.
The crowd didn't "Shout" when instructed this year by the big screens. The flags did wave, sometimes with fervor, but that magic of four years ago was not present, at least not for me. I listened to the invocation of Evers-Williams and looked around trying to figure out what I was waiting for.
After the president was sworn in and he began to speak, I realized what I'd come for. It was inspiration and a reminder that I'm a small part of something bigger. I waved my flag vigorously as Obama checked off many areas this country can improve from equal pay, gay rights, the environment to the economy and world peace. It was big, general talk for a big diverse audience, but it made me realize why I woke up so early. I'm a part of this crowd. I can approach it cynically and crack jokes or wonder about my sanity as I'm swept up in a crowd moving in the wrong direction or I can do what I can to be heard and to be a part of this crowd. I've got a voice and I get to be heard even just a little bit. Sometimes, we'll have to turn around and take an alternate route, but the crowd has power that we fail to appreciate. This was the "I voted" sticker come to life. It doesn't always have to be bickering and bad news. Obama reminded me that don't have to have all the answers, we just have to take steps and push ourselves.
I walked through the dark and found the streets mostly empty of cars and populated with growing foot traffic. There was energy in the air, but it was more relaxed than the energy of four years ago.
This was my third inauguration, but my first chance to walk into history. As we wound around and around and around the security barriers, it turned out that walking into history was more circuitous than I'd expected. The crowds came together into a mass and then shed a bit at each entrance for the ticketed. After an hour of walking, we finally reached the crush of general public making their way onto the National Mall.
A mere four hours from the ceremony and the big screen TVs were already playing reruns and Ellen jokes. It was the first round of several. The crowd looked large, but again not the crowd of the first swearing-in. We wandered a bit, priced handwarmers (two for $5, two for $8, if you paid more than $1 you were ripped off), and took a few opportunities to sit. The mall itself was covered in plastic and it felt a bit like being on the roof. (National Treasure would have a field day with that, but it kept us out of the mud.)
As I waited, and looked around, I saw some of the hope and change, but still couldn't quite figure out why we, or really I had come. I was a good 100,000 people away from the capitol and watching the pageantry on TV. There was plenty of Obama paraphernalia, a few chants of U.S.A., and a lot of stars and stripes. More were on their way.
The crowd didn't "Shout" when instructed this year by the big screens. The flags did wave, sometimes with fervor, but that magic of four years ago was not present, at least not for me. I listened to the invocation of Evers-Williams and looked around trying to figure out what I was waiting for.
After the president was sworn in and he began to speak, I realized what I'd come for. It was inspiration and a reminder that I'm a small part of something bigger. I waved my flag vigorously as Obama checked off many areas this country can improve from equal pay, gay rights, the environment to the economy and world peace. It was big, general talk for a big diverse audience, but it made me realize why I woke up so early. I'm a part of this crowd. I can approach it cynically and crack jokes or wonder about my sanity as I'm swept up in a crowd moving in the wrong direction or I can do what I can to be heard and to be a part of this crowd. I've got a voice and I get to be heard even just a little bit. Sometimes, we'll have to turn around and take an alternate route, but the crowd has power that we fail to appreciate. This was the "I voted" sticker come to life. It doesn't always have to be bickering and bad news. Obama reminded me that don't have to have all the answers, we just have to take steps and push ourselves.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
What does it all mean?
I played Ultimate yesterday. I rejoined my Team Schaefer and took the field on a 60-degree winter day. It was 5 on 5 and the team we were playing had just crushed their previous opponent. Still they eyed us nervously. I looked at us, an aging hodge-podge of Ultimate players that I knew and didn't, and worried that perhaps we were being judged by past success.
I'm still not sure who was right. My body allowed me to play. I was tentative at times, and certainly out of shape, but I got to play. I got an early D. I handled a bit. I threw one away. I couldn't figure out where and when to cut, but still grabbed a few scores. The story lines look about the same as they always have. It's hard to judge a single sloppy game where most of the offense came from hucks and most of the defense came from body positioning and ill-advised throws. I handled more than I would have liked, but my cuts weren't that effective. I didn't get beat much on defense, but I wasn't scaring anybody either.
We won. We battled back from 10-12 to win 15-13. Somehow I expected a more triumphant return. I couldn't have expected it from my body. It's been neglected in all facets save flexibility. I shouldn't have expected it from the sidelines or the team. They were as present or not as they've always been.
One game may be one game. It's the accumulation that matters. As I stretch and massage and try to recover, I try not think about how challenging accumulation has become.
I'm still not sure who was right. My body allowed me to play. I was tentative at times, and certainly out of shape, but I got to play. I got an early D. I handled a bit. I threw one away. I couldn't figure out where and when to cut, but still grabbed a few scores. The story lines look about the same as they always have. It's hard to judge a single sloppy game where most of the offense came from hucks and most of the defense came from body positioning and ill-advised throws. I handled more than I would have liked, but my cuts weren't that effective. I didn't get beat much on defense, but I wasn't scaring anybody either.
We won. We battled back from 10-12 to win 15-13. Somehow I expected a more triumphant return. I couldn't have expected it from my body. It's been neglected in all facets save flexibility. I shouldn't have expected it from the sidelines or the team. They were as present or not as they've always been.
One game may be one game. It's the accumulation that matters. As I stretch and massage and try to recover, I try not think about how challenging accumulation has become.
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
2012 movies
1. 2012
2. Delirious
3. For your consideration
4. One Day
5. Moneyball
6. Made in Dagenham
7. Our Idiot Brother
8. No Strings Attached
9. Friends with Benefits
10. I don't know how she does it
11. Nine Queens (re-watch)
12. Tron: Legacy
13. Win Win
14. 50/50
15. In Time
16. Proof
17. Ides of March
18. Racing Dreams
19. Like Crazy
20. Limitless
21. The Hunger Games (theater)
22. Water for Elephants
23. Footloose
24. Following
25. The Iron Lady
26. Carnage
27. 30 minutes or Less
28. Paul
29. Safe (theater)
30. My Week with Marilyn
31. Down by Law
32. Role Models
33. The Avengers
34. Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
35. Rum Diary
36. Exit Through the Gift Shop
37. The Giant Mechanical Man
38. X-Men: 1st Class
39. The Vow
40. Drive
41. Being There
42. The Big Year
43. Margin Call
44. Wanderlust
45. Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (theater)
46. Young Adult
47. Safety Not Guaranteed (theater)
48. L'auberge espagnole
49. A Dangerous Method
50. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
51. Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows
52.
53. Friends with Kids
54. Going the Distance
55. Jeff, who lives at home
56. 21 Jump Street
57. Salmon Fishing in Yemen
58. The Ten Inch Hero
59. Keeping Mum
60. Albatross
61. Bachelorettes
62. Ceremony
63. Clue (re-watch)
64. Mystery Team
65. Harold
66. The Dictator
67. The Edge of Love
68. The Perks of Being a Wallflower
69. Frida
70. Ghostbusters (re-watch)
71. We Bought a Zoo
72. All the Queen's Men
73. National Lampoon's Vacation (re-watch)
74. The 5-year engagement
75. 28 days later (re-watch)
76. Grown-ups
77. Priceless
78. 28 weeks later
79. Sex and Lucia
80. Butter
81. Seeking a Friend for the End of the World
82. The Proposal (re-watch)
83. Ruby Sparks
84. Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol
Wow. That was a lot of movies. I think 13, 80, and 83 stand out at the moment. My least favorite have already been blocked out, though not completely for 74 or 35.
2. Delirious
3. For your consideration
4. One Day
5. Moneyball
6. Made in Dagenham
7. Our Idiot Brother
8. No Strings Attached
9. Friends with Benefits
10. I don't know how she does it
11. Nine Queens (re-watch)
12. Tron: Legacy
13. Win Win
14. 50/50
15. In Time
16. Proof
17. Ides of March
18. Racing Dreams
19. Like Crazy
20. Limitless
21. The Hunger Games (theater)
22. Water for Elephants
23. Footloose
24. Following
25. The Iron Lady
26. Carnage
27. 30 minutes or Less
28. Paul
29. Safe (theater)
30. My Week with Marilyn
31. Down by Law
32. Role Models
33. The Avengers
34. Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
35. Rum Diary
36. Exit Through the Gift Shop
37. The Giant Mechanical Man
38. X-Men: 1st Class
39. The Vow
40. Drive
41. Being There
42. The Big Year
43. Margin Call
44. Wanderlust
45. Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (theater)
46. Young Adult
47. Safety Not Guaranteed (theater)
48. L'auberge espagnole
49. A Dangerous Method
50. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
51. Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows
52.
53. Friends with Kids
54. Going the Distance
55. Jeff, who lives at home
56. 21 Jump Street
57. Salmon Fishing in Yemen
58. The Ten Inch Hero
59. Keeping Mum
60. Albatross
61. Bachelorettes
62. Ceremony
63. Clue (re-watch)
64. Mystery Team
65. Harold
66. The Dictator
67. The Edge of Love
68. The Perks of Being a Wallflower
69. Frida
70. Ghostbusters (re-watch)
71. We Bought a Zoo
72. All the Queen's Men
73. National Lampoon's Vacation (re-watch)
74. The 5-year engagement
75. 28 days later (re-watch)
76. Grown-ups
77. Priceless
78. 28 weeks later
79. Sex and Lucia
80. Butter
81. Seeking a Friend for the End of the World
82. The Proposal (re-watch)
83. Ruby Sparks
84. Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol
Wow. That was a lot of movies. I think 13, 80, and 83 stand out at the moment. My least favorite have already been blocked out, though not completely for 74 or 35.
2012 Books
1. Bowerman and the Men of Oregon
2. I am the Messenger
3. Paper Towns
4. The Other Wes Moore
5. Adland
6. The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey
7. Super Sad True Love Story
8. State of Wonder
9. The Gashouse Gang
10. When the Game was Ours
11. The Thieves of Manhattan
12. Ready Player One
13. Game of Thrones (Song of Fire's Ice #1)
14. Livability: Stories
15. One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding
16. True Blue
17. Joe College: Novel
18. Divergent
19. The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet
20. The Night Circus
21. The Age of Innocence
22. Consider: Harnessing the Power of Reflective Thinking in your organization
23. Why we make mistakes
24. Spousonomics
25. Just one look
26. What the dog saw
27. An Object of Beauty
28. Memoirs of a teenage amnesiac
29. Swamplandia
30. Great by Choice
31. Red Ink
32. Oryx and Crake
33. The Invisible Gorilla
34. The Hypnotist
35. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time
36. Gone Girl
My winners: 8, 20, 27, 32, 36. The losers: 5, 9
I did not read a book that I wanted to give five stars to in 2012.
2. I am the Messenger
3. Paper Towns
4. The Other Wes Moore
5. Adland
6. The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey
7. Super Sad True Love Story
8. State of Wonder
9. The Gashouse Gang
10. When the Game was Ours
11. The Thieves of Manhattan
12. Ready Player One
13. Game of Thrones (Song of Fire's Ice #1)
14. Livability: Stories
15. One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding
16. True Blue
17. Joe College: Novel
18. Divergent
19. The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet
20. The Night Circus
21. The Age of Innocence
22. Consider: Harnessing the Power of Reflective Thinking in your organization
23. Why we make mistakes
24. Spousonomics
25. Just one look
26. What the dog saw
27. An Object of Beauty
28. Memoirs of a teenage amnesiac
29. Swamplandia
30. Great by Choice
31. Red Ink
32. Oryx and Crake
33. The Invisible Gorilla
34. The Hypnotist
35. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time
36. Gone Girl
My winners: 8, 20, 27, 32, 36. The losers: 5, 9
I did not read a book that I wanted to give five stars to in 2012.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
12/15/11- Gunn's Place and adventure
It's raining. We're in a little cabin beneath some snow capped peaks. It's called Gunn's place and it's in Hollyford about 40 km from Milford Sound. We'd planned to camp, but the rain doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon. We'll try again tomorrow night. My dad would appreciate this place. It has a quirky sense of humor. Gunn had a horse named Jane who lived to be 38. On one side of the horse, Gunn painted "horse". Visitors would ask why and he'd tell them with so many hunters around he didn't want Jane getting shot. The visitors would ask, "Why does the other side say 'cow'?"
"I need the milk," was Gunn's answer.
The shower water was heated by wood burning and there's a generator running the camp's electricity. Even through the rain the drive here was gorgeous. I am running out of adjectives for New Zealand.
This morning we packed in a few thrills on a canyoning adventure. Dressed in wet suits and climbing harnesses, we took to the woods near Queenstown. We walked up for about five minutes, spent some time criss-crossing a stream on ziplines and then abseiled/rappelled down to the stream. I enjoyed the rappelling and started to get a reputation as the group daredevil (not at all like a real daredevil) with a big kick off the wall for the photo they'd try to sell me later. Then I was eager to volunteer for a seven meter slide down a falls. I almost lost a shoe. The five meter and eight meter jumps were right up my alley too. The skydiving really knocked some of my fears away. I still had a slight hesitation at eight meters, but not much. Splish Splash!
C wasn't able to make the climb up for the jumps, but even after slipping and falling she remained in good spirits. I seemed more rattled by it than she was. Over the same pool as the jumps, we also took a zip line out over it (11m), belayed ourselves down and then released into the water. I couldn't get my knot undone, so required help from the guide, but it was still a hoot. We went through a narrow channel of water, belly-flopped into a pool and abseiled once more. It was a good time. Expensive for what it was, but not something easily recreated at home.
I accidently put our shoes and shirts in the wrong van which caused some more excitement to close out the adventure, but we eventually set things right and headed to Fergburger. It was underwhelming all ways but size. We were probably hungry, so a big burger was a win. Dinner was supermarket fare. Had we known we weren't going to camp we could have bought hot food, but the salami, Edam, and kiwi fruits were winners again. C wasn't feeling well and let me to shop for the next three meals. If we survive, I will have succeeded. I think I'm a little disappointed we aren't heading out on a bigger hike, but right now I'm not really prepared materially for a bigger hike and we don't really have time for one.
I'm still more hiker in my mind than reality. Someday I may acquire the right supplies, mindset, and time all at once. Until then 10 sleeps* until Christmas.
Other note: For some reason New Zealand has reminded me of college- perhaps the freedom, perhaps I just miss my friends a bit, but I've got a postcard off to the Smiths. Australia immediately reminded me of MS's time there. the silver fern looks like Jif's tattoo. We've heard music by S by iPod.
Not college, but I'm also reminded of MP's stories from South Africa. Maybe I do miss my friends a bit. There are many nice people on trips here. Maybe it's that common experience of holiday replacing college. Maybe it's all the talk of drinking. "Don't drink and fry." It's definitely been a good trip for a long one- not having the language barrier has been a huge relief.
(*Unless you happen to be flying back to the US and gaining a sleep.)
"I need the milk," was Gunn's answer.
The shower water was heated by wood burning and there's a generator running the camp's electricity. Even through the rain the drive here was gorgeous. I am running out of adjectives for New Zealand.
This morning we packed in a few thrills on a canyoning adventure. Dressed in wet suits and climbing harnesses, we took to the woods near Queenstown. We walked up for about five minutes, spent some time criss-crossing a stream on ziplines and then abseiled/rappelled down to the stream. I enjoyed the rappelling and started to get a reputation as the group daredevil (not at all like a real daredevil) with a big kick off the wall for the photo they'd try to sell me later. Then I was eager to volunteer for a seven meter slide down a falls. I almost lost a shoe. The five meter and eight meter jumps were right up my alley too. The skydiving really knocked some of my fears away. I still had a slight hesitation at eight meters, but not much. Splish Splash!
C wasn't able to make the climb up for the jumps, but even after slipping and falling she remained in good spirits. I seemed more rattled by it than she was. Over the same pool as the jumps, we also took a zip line out over it (11m), belayed ourselves down and then released into the water. I couldn't get my knot undone, so required help from the guide, but it was still a hoot. We went through a narrow channel of water, belly-flopped into a pool and abseiled once more. It was a good time. Expensive for what it was, but not something easily recreated at home.
I accidently put our shoes and shirts in the wrong van which caused some more excitement to close out the adventure, but we eventually set things right and headed to Fergburger. It was underwhelming all ways but size. We were probably hungry, so a big burger was a win. Dinner was supermarket fare. Had we known we weren't going to camp we could have bought hot food, but the salami, Edam, and kiwi fruits were winners again. C wasn't feeling well and let me to shop for the next three meals. If we survive, I will have succeeded. I think I'm a little disappointed we aren't heading out on a bigger hike, but right now I'm not really prepared materially for a bigger hike and we don't really have time for one.
I'm still more hiker in my mind than reality. Someday I may acquire the right supplies, mindset, and time all at once. Until then 10 sleeps* until Christmas.
Other note: For some reason New Zealand has reminded me of college- perhaps the freedom, perhaps I just miss my friends a bit, but I've got a postcard off to the Smiths. Australia immediately reminded me of MS's time there. the silver fern looks like Jif's tattoo. We've heard music by S by iPod.
Not college, but I'm also reminded of MP's stories from South Africa. Maybe I do miss my friends a bit. There are many nice people on trips here. Maybe it's that common experience of holiday replacing college. Maybe it's all the talk of drinking. "Don't drink and fry." It's definitely been a good trip for a long one- not having the language barrier has been a huge relief.
(*Unless you happen to be flying back to the US and gaining a sleep.)
Monday, December 17, 2012
12/13/11- From lodge to Mt. Cook
I'm a day behind writing (and more than a year behind in transcribing), but I'll try to get caught back up. We opted for a cold breakfast only forcing our chef to slice carrots, oranges, and ginger for a morning smoothie rather than cooking a complete breakfast. We then got a very interesting garden tour from the head gardener. It felt strange to have our car brought up to us and our bags brought down, but our lifestyles of the faux-rich and pretend-famous were coming to a close.
We headed toward Mt. Cook, stopped for lunch in a shopping center where I had a delicious savory pie, and then rolled on. As the gardner had promised the first hour of the drive wasn't that pretty, but soon the vistas improved. When we hit the brilliant blue of Lake Tekapo we had to pull over to take pictures. Sediment disturbance caused by glaciers when they formed the lake gave it a bright blue coloring. It was gorgeous. Mt. Cook became visible an hour later in front of a bright blue lake as well. Our DOC campground was in the shadow of a glacier and hill a hill in the shadow of Mt. Cook. We set up camp and walked 45 minutes until we could see Mt. Cook clearly. We had dinner at a ski lodge, I had Sir Edmund Hillary's Pork Sausages. It was the most expensive meal (we've paid for). We went to bed while it was still light out and awoke to a light rain and awoke to a light-ish rain, and awoke to rain.
We packed our wetness in a hurry just before 7 AM, skipped the hike we'd planned and pointed toward Queenstown. We had breakfast in Twizel in a park with food courtesy of an open Four Square supermarket. Driving on to Queenstown, we stopped to admire Merino wool and possibly the home of Shrek the most famous sheep (blinded by his 25 kilogram coat). I'm not clear on the fame or Shrek's life story. Traffic picked up as we entered Queenstown, so did lodges and perhaps intensity. C compared Queenstown to Gatlinburg, it's apt, but it's also like an amped up ski town or college town where adventure activity is the university. Almost every third store on the main drag was able to book some type of adventure for an interested traveler. We go canyoning tomorrow.
We had lunch at a kebab place and then decided to separate for the afternoon. C went to Arrowtown and I rented a mountain bike and rode around the peninsula. The scenery was great, but getting my heart pumping and getting a taste for what a mountain bike could really do were even better. It was mostly flat stretches, but there were some wiggles through trees and over rocks. I returned to town the same way I'd come pumping hard to get back. It took about two hours and then I spent 45 minutes more trying to climb some of the ridiculously steep streets around. I don't know if I've ever climbed anything so steep for so long. I had to stop because my legs were burning. It was great in an odd sort of way. Tonight we're up on the roof deck of our hostel the Laughing Southerner after pizza at Winne's (and a Monteith Black- yum) and some ginger dark fudge. The view from here is once again spectacular as clouds have just released the tall peak to the North (?). If it weren't for the 500 or so resort-style homes and hotels in my view I could believe I was in Middle Earth looking to unload the ring.
We headed toward Mt. Cook, stopped for lunch in a shopping center where I had a delicious savory pie, and then rolled on. As the gardner had promised the first hour of the drive wasn't that pretty, but soon the vistas improved. When we hit the brilliant blue of Lake Tekapo we had to pull over to take pictures. Sediment disturbance caused by glaciers when they formed the lake gave it a bright blue coloring. It was gorgeous. Mt. Cook became visible an hour later in front of a bright blue lake as well. Our DOC campground was in the shadow of a glacier and hill a hill in the shadow of Mt. Cook. We set up camp and walked 45 minutes until we could see Mt. Cook clearly. We had dinner at a ski lodge, I had Sir Edmund Hillary's Pork Sausages. It was the most expensive meal (we've paid for). We went to bed while it was still light out and awoke to a light rain and awoke to a light-ish rain, and awoke to rain.
We packed our wetness in a hurry just before 7 AM, skipped the hike we'd planned and pointed toward Queenstown. We had breakfast in Twizel in a park with food courtesy of an open Four Square supermarket. Driving on to Queenstown, we stopped to admire Merino wool and possibly the home of Shrek the most famous sheep (blinded by his 25 kilogram coat). I'm not clear on the fame or Shrek's life story. Traffic picked up as we entered Queenstown, so did lodges and perhaps intensity. C compared Queenstown to Gatlinburg, it's apt, but it's also like an amped up ski town or college town where adventure activity is the university. Almost every third store on the main drag was able to book some type of adventure for an interested traveler. We go canyoning tomorrow.
We had lunch at a kebab place and then decided to separate for the afternoon. C went to Arrowtown and I rented a mountain bike and rode around the peninsula. The scenery was great, but getting my heart pumping and getting a taste for what a mountain bike could really do were even better. It was mostly flat stretches, but there were some wiggles through trees and over rocks. I returned to town the same way I'd come pumping hard to get back. It took about two hours and then I spent 45 minutes more trying to climb some of the ridiculously steep streets around. I don't know if I've ever climbed anything so steep for so long. I had to stop because my legs were burning. It was great in an odd sort of way. Tonight we're up on the roof deck of our hostel the Laughing Southerner after pizza at Winne's (and a Monteith Black- yum) and some ginger dark fudge. The view from here is once again spectacular as clouds have just released the tall peak to the North (?). If it weren't for the 500 or so resort-style homes and hotels in my view I could believe I was in Middle Earth looking to unload the ring.
12/12/11- Otahuna Lodge
Fancy dinner. Fancy hotel. More to come.
Continued the next morning.
If jumping out of a plane was a strange sensation it's hard to describe what staying at Otahuna Lodge is like. It lacks the adrenaline rush of skydiving, but it's novel or mor accurately makes me feel like I'm in a novel (or perhaps a movie). A lovely Queen Anne home part way up a hill, surrounded by countryside, it's where the very rich come to stay. The per night prices hover in the area of our monthly rent. Our room with verandah hovers in the same square footage as well. We were almost so comfortable, it was uncomfortable. If we hadn't felt out of place, our every whim appeared to be just a wink and a nod away. Hooray for this perk from C's job.
At 6:30 last night we went down for drinks. I had a Glenmorangie neat. The scotch selection was not that impressive, but otherwise I'm awed. We talked with Ben the butler until the other two guests Aussies Victoria and Olivia arrived. After socializing a while and learning that Olivia had been to the Kentucky Derby for her birthday, we settled down for a five course meal. I don't usually like wine, but I found out that wine (well-paired) with gourmet dishes made mostly from local (as in on the property) items can be delicious. By the time the port came with dessert, I had drank enough. Ben recommended we stroll around the grounds once more while the sun set in the pink sky. We giggled through a walk before retiring to our elegant room. It's all almost too much. Is this how Pretty Woman felt?
During the day yesterday, we biked a bit in Christchurch. We saw some earthquake damage and had coffee and scones at C in the Re:Start shipping container mall. It was quite chic. We heard there were other shipping container malls, but none were being used post-disaster like this. It reminded us of the tin city we'd learned about in Napier, post-disaster there. It made me want a shipping container home. I do enjoy the re-purposed building/container.
Continued the next morning.
If jumping out of a plane was a strange sensation it's hard to describe what staying at Otahuna Lodge is like. It lacks the adrenaline rush of skydiving, but it's novel or mor accurately makes me feel like I'm in a novel (or perhaps a movie). A lovely Queen Anne home part way up a hill, surrounded by countryside, it's where the very rich come to stay. The per night prices hover in the area of our monthly rent. Our room with verandah hovers in the same square footage as well. We were almost so comfortable, it was uncomfortable. If we hadn't felt out of place, our every whim appeared to be just a wink and a nod away. Hooray for this perk from C's job.
At 6:30 last night we went down for drinks. I had a Glenmorangie neat. The scotch selection was not that impressive, but otherwise I'm awed. We talked with Ben the butler until the other two guests Aussies Victoria and Olivia arrived. After socializing a while and learning that Olivia had been to the Kentucky Derby for her birthday, we settled down for a five course meal. I don't usually like wine, but I found out that wine (well-paired) with gourmet dishes made mostly from local (as in on the property) items can be delicious. By the time the port came with dessert, I had drank enough. Ben recommended we stroll around the grounds once more while the sun set in the pink sky. We giggled through a walk before retiring to our elegant room. It's all almost too much. Is this how Pretty Woman felt?
During the day yesterday, we biked a bit in Christchurch. We saw some earthquake damage and had coffee and scones at C in the Re:Start shipping container mall. It was quite chic. We heard there were other shipping container malls, but none were being used post-disaster like this. It reminded us of the tin city we'd learned about in Napier, post-disaster there. It made me want a shipping container home. I do enjoy the re-purposed building/container.
On pause
I sit at the desk with poor posture as my back crushes itself. Those muscles that hold me up grow lazy and weak from lack of use. My writing muscles follow the same regime. I sometimes ride to work and sometimes rally my pen there too, but neither are enough exercise to grow strong, just enough to stop from putting on much weight.
I've straightened my back and I'm searching for the rhythm on the computer keyboard. The tap-tap-tappity-tap of a confident writer. I gaze into that space between glasses and screen, the space that blocks out the world and where creativity might float by. I've strapped on my headphones and turned up Hem to drown out the sounds of TV. The light bulbs of our Christmas tree dance in my peripheral vision and reflect in the corner of my iMac.
If questioned, I'd still call Hem my favorite band. Sure, Carley Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe and PSY's Gangnam Style make me want to sing along and dance respectively, but no body of work moves me like Hem's. There are rumors that new music is coming and I look on with interest. I can't say exactly what it is about Hem that's allowed them to not only claim the title of my favorite band, but to remain there, virtually unchallenged. There's something so beautiful (and perhaps timeless) about the music, the lyrics, and the singing. I find each song filled with emotion. The songs manage to be inspirational, sad, and uplifting all at the same time. As I listen and write I wonder why I haven't listened more recently.
I could use some of that inspiration to propel me through more blog posts. Perhaps I needed to slow down enough to appreciate the nuance of sad and uplifting. Maybe I just need more exercise.
I've straightened my back and I'm searching for the rhythm on the computer keyboard. The tap-tap-tappity-tap of a confident writer. I gaze into that space between glasses and screen, the space that blocks out the world and where creativity might float by. I've strapped on my headphones and turned up Hem to drown out the sounds of TV. The light bulbs of our Christmas tree dance in my peripheral vision and reflect in the corner of my iMac.
If questioned, I'd still call Hem my favorite band. Sure, Carley Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe and PSY's Gangnam Style make me want to sing along and dance respectively, but no body of work moves me like Hem's. There are rumors that new music is coming and I look on with interest. I can't say exactly what it is about Hem that's allowed them to not only claim the title of my favorite band, but to remain there, virtually unchallenged. There's something so beautiful (and perhaps timeless) about the music, the lyrics, and the singing. I find each song filled with emotion. The songs manage to be inspirational, sad, and uplifting all at the same time. As I listen and write I wonder why I haven't listened more recently.
I could use some of that inspiration to propel me through more blog posts. Perhaps I needed to slow down enough to appreciate the nuance of sad and uplifting. Maybe I just need more exercise.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Missed my 10 year
Poor neglected little blog- Ten years ago you were the adventure in social media. I was connecting with friends, getting my writing out there, and trying to find my voice. There have been a few restarts and some side projects, but for the most part this little blog has all but dried up. I'm connecting on Facebook, in a sense, maybe, I think. My writing is tucked away, hibernating, waiting to re-emerge when inspiration strikes. Those strikes seem few and far between. My voice is this one. It doesn't feel as wacky as it once did. The vocal cords are rusty. If they were in a wagon, they'd need a push down the hill.
Yet, somehow, I can't quite give this up. Both of my readers might be disappointed. What would they read once every month? Where would they go for the latest in vague statements and stories about running.
At 10, I sense it might be time for a change, but I don't know yet what that change might be. I thought there would be more shocks to the system, more giant spotlights pointing me in the right direction, more trumpets heralding the path, more giant arrows, but instead I find just little clues. Life is a lot more like a scavenger hunt and lot less like a movie than I was expecting.
Yet, somehow, I can't quite give this up. Both of my readers might be disappointed. What would they read once every month? Where would they go for the latest in vague statements and stories about running.
At 10, I sense it might be time for a change, but I don't know yet what that change might be. I thought there would be more shocks to the system, more giant spotlights pointing me in the right direction, more trumpets heralding the path, more giant arrows, but instead I find just little clues. Life is a lot more like a scavenger hunt and lot less like a movie than I was expecting.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
A little bit crushed
I didn't expect to feel this way. I only went to one game. I only watched a handful on TV. Last night, I checked the updating box score online and then finally in the seventh inning turned on the radio and curled up on the kitchen floor.
As I listened to the Nationals in game 5 of this wild series, I flashed back to my childhood. I missed Denny Matthews and Paul Splitorff, Kansas City Royals announcers, even as I pictured the game currently in progress. I missed my transistor radio too.
I could tell it was nuts at the stadium, but my heart remained relatively calm. I checked my pulse even as the Cardinals made their surprising ninth-inning comeback. My pulse remained relatively normal. I still believed. These Nats had come back before. They would do it again. This was the year.
Then it was over.
I turned off the radio and went to bed. Disappointed that I didn't get to bust out the door and join DC for some cheering in the streets, I fell asleep quickly. I thought when I woke up it might be different.
I turned to the sports page and it described the disappointment and shock so well. I turned to Facebook and read the alternating reports of jubilation from the many Missouri pals and sadness from the DC area. I celebrated most of the season with the Internet. I read Washington Post stories all year and excitedly followed this young Nats team, yet today the Internet's account feels inadequate.
Even my oatmeal lacks a certain something this morning.
As I listened to the Nationals in game 5 of this wild series, I flashed back to my childhood. I missed Denny Matthews and Paul Splitorff, Kansas City Royals announcers, even as I pictured the game currently in progress. I missed my transistor radio too.
I could tell it was nuts at the stadium, but my heart remained relatively calm. I checked my pulse even as the Cardinals made their surprising ninth-inning comeback. My pulse remained relatively normal. I still believed. These Nats had come back before. They would do it again. This was the year.
Then it was over.
I turned off the radio and went to bed. Disappointed that I didn't get to bust out the door and join DC for some cheering in the streets, I fell asleep quickly. I thought when I woke up it might be different.
I turned to the sports page and it described the disappointment and shock so well. I turned to Facebook and read the alternating reports of jubilation from the many Missouri pals and sadness from the DC area. I celebrated most of the season with the Internet. I read Washington Post stories all year and excitedly followed this young Nats team, yet today the Internet's account feels inadequate.
Even my oatmeal lacks a certain something this morning.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
12/11/11- Glowing and waiting
It's been a day of waiting. I woke up early and wandered the mean street of Waitomo, then we loitered until an i-Site opened up so we could book a Waitomo cave "tubing" ticket and loiter some more. After all our waiting we were rewarded with a glow worm* tour of the caves. It was a walk, crawl, slide through a cave, about 1.5 km of cave. The glow worms have a tail light that shines during their pupae stage. The caves had been compared to the night sky and the glow worms stars, but I thought they looked more like a city at night when a plane is landing. The lights tended to extend more like a peninsula and less like the cosmos.
We wore wetsuits in the caves. I can only imagine what discovering those caves must have been like, the glow, the strands (like a spider's web) hanging from the ceiling. Our moment of faux-discovery was a waterfall. We had to earn it by wading through waist deep water and then crawling through a space that would have scared me heaps if I'd come across it on my own. We emerged under a seven meter falls and it was pretty neat. From there it was more glowing and more tubing, not to mention a slide and a backwards hop onto our tube. All in all kind of fun.
The drive to the airport, complete with lap sandwiches, lead us to a delayed flight that finally got us to the South Island. The window seat was glorious. The South Island mountains had snow on top. The scenery was gorgeous- LOTR gorgeous. I'm excited again. To top it off, our hostel for the night is a converted jailhouse and they've tried to stick with the theme. I swear the lights clanked off. We're in a cell in bunk beds. The windows are barred and there are some serious creaking noises. I look forward to seeing daylight. A nice pick by C.
*The worms are insects, so not worms at all.
We wore wetsuits in the caves. I can only imagine what discovering those caves must have been like, the glow, the strands (like a spider's web) hanging from the ceiling. Our moment of faux-discovery was a waterfall. We had to earn it by wading through waist deep water and then crawling through a space that would have scared me heaps if I'd come across it on my own. We emerged under a seven meter falls and it was pretty neat. From there it was more glowing and more tubing, not to mention a slide and a backwards hop onto our tube. All in all kind of fun.
The drive to the airport, complete with lap sandwiches, lead us to a delayed flight that finally got us to the South Island. The window seat was glorious. The South Island mountains had snow on top. The scenery was gorgeous- LOTR gorgeous. I'm excited again. To top it off, our hostel for the night is a converted jailhouse and they've tried to stick with the theme. I swear the lights clanked off. We're in a cell in bunk beds. The windows are barred and there are some serious creaking noises. I look forward to seeing daylight. A nice pick by C.
*The worms are insects, so not worms at all.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
12/10/11- Jumping out of the sky
It's hard to know where to start this day. Yes, it was great to wake up in our free campsite to the sounds of goats, stream, and NZ yokels. There was a light mist accompanying breakfast, but we got ready to go and headed to Taupo. We arrived to find the trappings of a race. It wouldn't be until after second breakfast at Indulgence (bacon and egg sandwich and an iced coffee- oh look iced coffee here comes with ice cream. Score.) that we'd discover the race was the Taupo half-Ironman. I watched a bit of the bike to run transition and decided that I need to enter a tri. 2012 goal? Straight from NZ.
All morning we kicked around the idea of skydiving, but it was overcast and I was scared, so we put it off. We hiked out to Huku Falls (a little over 5k) and had the good fortune to see three kayaks run the falls. We had wandered through the park which included a "confidence course" and a zipline (6 inches off the ground under our weight.) on the way out to the falls. On the way back, we jumped into the Waikato River. It was fed in one place by a geothermal stream, but it was still cold and refreshing at our chosen plunge point. C was shocked by the temperature, having expected the spring to warm the water considerably. From there we went to sit in the geo-thermal stream-feed. The sun had started shining, but only winter could have made the stream a place to sit comfortably. The water was H-O-T, HOT! We dipped our toes and sat for a bit where river and stream met, before heading on to lunch.
Taupo was an athletic sort of place, on a lake and river and particularly today holding a triathlon. I liked it. I had a mexican stack (pie-like enchilada) and a Phoenix Lemon and Lime and Bitters for lunch at Replete. I'd say I'm three for three on soda that are ok, but that I don't really need again. With the sun out and our bellies full, we decided to see Taupo from the sky, or at least check out the skydiving options.
We drove out to the airport, found the very yellow Taupo tandem skydive business and steeled ourselves. TTS had a million jump options, 12k feet or 15k feet, with a photographer or a videographer, silver, platinum, gold options all to choose from. C and I decided that our budget could and should only handle the most basic package. We got a long chat from a worker on the experience chose our package and proceeded to wait another 30 minutes to even start to get going.
I was terribly nervous on the way in and sitting on the couch. I was nervous waiting, and then I put on my flight suit. The nerves didn't go away, but they were suddenly more manageable. Cue the safety video and harness set up before heading out for more waiting. Now we could see others floating down from the sky. I met a nice German named Markus on a 3.5?! month trip. More waiting and then Albert appeared and introduced himself.
Albert was nice enough, but I couldn't help noticing his crazy eyes. He had over 4,000 jumps, probably more and he seemed a bit disappointed that I wasn't going to pony up for the 15k jump. He seemed far more possessive than the other jump masters, but what the hey.
We boarded the plane, sitting close between the legs of our tandem master. They closed the gate, passed the camera and the plane started to take off. We were facing backwards and I had another jolt of nerves that I was able to clam. Albert asked if I liked flying. I answered yes and I thought about all those commercial flights where my nose was pressed against the glass taking in the city. I tried to do the same as the little prop plane climbed and climbed above Taupo, but my palms were sweating. My heart and breathing seemed ok. The scenery was brilliant, mountains, cityscape, the giant lake. On we climbed, circling up to our height. I was calmer than I'd been in the waiting room, but still had to push down thoughts of, "What the hell did I just sign on for?"
Albert put me on his lap and tightened us in together. The altitude got me a bit at around 11k feet. Albert's conversation attempts were politely answered and I was forcing a smile. C seemed to be ignoring my looks, but she did glance back a few times and we shared nervous smiles. At 12k feet, they opened the door. One cameraman stood outside the plane, wind and sky were rushing by. My thoughts shifted again as I tried to stifle a "You've got to be kidding me!"
Three jumpers and two cameramen were away and my tandem and I shifted closer to the open door. C had jumped, but I don't recall seeing her go. As we moved toward the door, my legs filled with lead. I could feel Albert straining against my weight to get us seated with our feet out in the sky. I couldn't move my legs, but Albert got us out the door. We leaned back to have our photo taken. I smiled brightly and then we were off tumbling- plane and cloud and sky and free fall.
It was strangely calming for a 200 km/h fall. I found a comfort level quickly. We plunged. I released my hands and got in a few gyrations, like the dancing catfish, and then plunged on trying to take it in. We fell through a cloud. Oh my god, a cloud! I had time to register the cloud, consider that it felt colder in there and wonder when I'd be able to see again. Still falling- unbelievable!
And then the parachute pull. Violently, I was jerked vertically with my feet toward the ground. We spun quickly in circles; it was frightening again, but then we settled into a graceful float. I had to hold the controls for a moment and I didn't have full function, in fact in writing this I get nervous thinking about it. We continued to float lower and lower. I tried to soak up the sights. It was a postcard in every direction. We landed with a thud. I reluctantly tried to stand up on the rocky landing patch.
Triumph! TTS tried to sell us a DVD afterwards, but we resisted the cheesy pitch. I did buy a photo of my exit from the plane (which immediately was shared on Facebook with pride), but decided that my memory would serve me best on this adventure.
From there we drove excitedly to Waitomo. I couldn't drive because I was still so pumped up. C drove us to a nice hostel Kiwi Paka with a bar down the hill called Curly's. We had dinner there. I had a Sheperd's Pie and a Steighton Old Dark (thumps up) and a Waikato Draught (so-so). The highlight though was sharing a table with a couple of Kiwis. They were very nice and we traded stories, quite a few about animals and roadkill. I was quite excited to discover that one of the women was Maori. I didn't catch her name, but she was lovely and it was pleasing to meet a Maori after hearing quite a lot about the indigenous people of New Zealand. Bed has come late tonight and I think I may be in a bit of trouble since retelling my day has give me another kick of energy.
All morning we kicked around the idea of skydiving, but it was overcast and I was scared, so we put it off. We hiked out to Huku Falls (a little over 5k) and had the good fortune to see three kayaks run the falls. We had wandered through the park which included a "confidence course" and a zipline (6 inches off the ground under our weight.) on the way out to the falls. On the way back, we jumped into the Waikato River. It was fed in one place by a geothermal stream, but it was still cold and refreshing at our chosen plunge point. C was shocked by the temperature, having expected the spring to warm the water considerably. From there we went to sit in the geo-thermal stream-feed. The sun had started shining, but only winter could have made the stream a place to sit comfortably. The water was H-O-T, HOT! We dipped our toes and sat for a bit where river and stream met, before heading on to lunch.
Taupo was an athletic sort of place, on a lake and river and particularly today holding a triathlon. I liked it. I had a mexican stack (pie-like enchilada) and a Phoenix Lemon and Lime and Bitters for lunch at Replete. I'd say I'm three for three on soda that are ok, but that I don't really need again. With the sun out and our bellies full, we decided to see Taupo from the sky, or at least check out the skydiving options.
We drove out to the airport, found the very yellow Taupo tandem skydive business and steeled ourselves. TTS had a million jump options, 12k feet or 15k feet, with a photographer or a videographer, silver, platinum, gold options all to choose from. C and I decided that our budget could and should only handle the most basic package. We got a long chat from a worker on the experience chose our package and proceeded to wait another 30 minutes to even start to get going.
I was terribly nervous on the way in and sitting on the couch. I was nervous waiting, and then I put on my flight suit. The nerves didn't go away, but they were suddenly more manageable. Cue the safety video and harness set up before heading out for more waiting. Now we could see others floating down from the sky. I met a nice German named Markus on a 3.5?! month trip. More waiting and then Albert appeared and introduced himself.
Albert was nice enough, but I couldn't help noticing his crazy eyes. He had over 4,000 jumps, probably more and he seemed a bit disappointed that I wasn't going to pony up for the 15k jump. He seemed far more possessive than the other jump masters, but what the hey.
We boarded the plane, sitting close between the legs of our tandem master. They closed the gate, passed the camera and the plane started to take off. We were facing backwards and I had another jolt of nerves that I was able to clam. Albert asked if I liked flying. I answered yes and I thought about all those commercial flights where my nose was pressed against the glass taking in the city. I tried to do the same as the little prop plane climbed and climbed above Taupo, but my palms were sweating. My heart and breathing seemed ok. The scenery was brilliant, mountains, cityscape, the giant lake. On we climbed, circling up to our height. I was calmer than I'd been in the waiting room, but still had to push down thoughts of, "What the hell did I just sign on for?"
Albert put me on his lap and tightened us in together. The altitude got me a bit at around 11k feet. Albert's conversation attempts were politely answered and I was forcing a smile. C seemed to be ignoring my looks, but she did glance back a few times and we shared nervous smiles. At 12k feet, they opened the door. One cameraman stood outside the plane, wind and sky were rushing by. My thoughts shifted again as I tried to stifle a "You've got to be kidding me!"
Three jumpers and two cameramen were away and my tandem and I shifted closer to the open door. C had jumped, but I don't recall seeing her go. As we moved toward the door, my legs filled with lead. I could feel Albert straining against my weight to get us seated with our feet out in the sky. I couldn't move my legs, but Albert got us out the door. We leaned back to have our photo taken. I smiled brightly and then we were off tumbling- plane and cloud and sky and free fall.
It was strangely calming for a 200 km/h fall. I found a comfort level quickly. We plunged. I released my hands and got in a few gyrations, like the dancing catfish, and then plunged on trying to take it in. We fell through a cloud. Oh my god, a cloud! I had time to register the cloud, consider that it felt colder in there and wonder when I'd be able to see again. Still falling- unbelievable!
And then the parachute pull. Violently, I was jerked vertically with my feet toward the ground. We spun quickly in circles; it was frightening again, but then we settled into a graceful float. I had to hold the controls for a moment and I didn't have full function, in fact in writing this I get nervous thinking about it. We continued to float lower and lower. I tried to soak up the sights. It was a postcard in every direction. We landed with a thud. I reluctantly tried to stand up on the rocky landing patch.
Triumph! TTS tried to sell us a DVD afterwards, but we resisted the cheesy pitch. I did buy a photo of my exit from the plane (which immediately was shared on Facebook with pride), but decided that my memory would serve me best on this adventure.
From there we drove excitedly to Waitomo. I couldn't drive because I was still so pumped up. C drove us to a nice hostel Kiwi Paka with a bar down the hill called Curly's. We had dinner there. I had a Sheperd's Pie and a Steighton Old Dark (thumps up) and a Waikato Draught (so-so). The highlight though was sharing a table with a couple of Kiwis. They were very nice and we traded stories, quite a few about animals and roadkill. I was quite excited to discover that one of the women was Maori. I didn't catch her name, but she was lovely and it was pleasing to meet a Maori after hearing quite a lot about the indigenous people of New Zealand. Bed has come late tonight and I think I may be in a bit of trouble since retelling my day has give me another kick of energy.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
12/9/11- Art Deco style
Today is a new day and I'm going to wipe yesterday's frustration away. Little orphan Annie did say the sun would be out today, or was it tomorrow? Either way I'm going to take some deep breaths and make today a good one.
The campground echoes with CCR and Lynard Skynard? Am I home? It's 20:30 in December and children at one end of the grounds are kicking a soccer ball while children at the other are playing cricket. Oh, I'm in New Zealand. This FREE DOC campground is almost all I could dream of. It's on a river in the shadows of rolling green hills; sheep are bleating when the music is off.
We drove to Napier this morning and arrived in the art deco capital of the world. I had expected something quainter and more clearly demarcated between art deco and other styles. We wandered a bit and found lunch. I had fancy nachos and Frank's Pink grapefruit soda. We then hit the Internet. It wasn't that busy. We wandered some more. I found opossum world and discovered what I'd been seeing splattered on so many of the winding roads. Speaking of roads, I discovered today that right-of-way is about turning vehicles today. (As I retype this, I now have no idea what this means. It might mean that turning vehicles get to go first?)
We took an art deco walking tour in Napier. Our volunteer guide had some interesting asides and showed us numerous art deco and Spanish mission buildings. The most interesting tidbit from the tour was actually about the earthquake that started it all for Napier. It moved the ground up two meters, filled in swamp land and allowed Napier to expand.
We left town, stocked up for a roughing-it style dinner at a roadside fruit stand with cheese, golden kiwis, and some bread, and then made our way to this little piece of paradise (now with groovin' soundtrack- either me singing songs about tiny towels or some Maori radio. I'm not sure which.)
The campground echoes with CCR and Lynard Skynard? Am I home? It's 20:30 in December and children at one end of the grounds are kicking a soccer ball while children at the other are playing cricket. Oh, I'm in New Zealand. This FREE DOC campground is almost all I could dream of. It's on a river in the shadows of rolling green hills; sheep are bleating when the music is off.
We drove to Napier this morning and arrived in the art deco capital of the world. I had expected something quainter and more clearly demarcated between art deco and other styles. We wandered a bit and found lunch. I had fancy nachos and Frank's Pink grapefruit soda. We then hit the Internet. It wasn't that busy. We wandered some more. I found opossum world and discovered what I'd been seeing splattered on so many of the winding roads. Speaking of roads, I discovered today that right-of-way is about turning vehicles today. (As I retype this, I now have no idea what this means. It might mean that turning vehicles get to go first?)
We took an art deco walking tour in Napier. Our volunteer guide had some interesting asides and showed us numerous art deco and Spanish mission buildings. The most interesting tidbit from the tour was actually about the earthquake that started it all for Napier. It moved the ground up two meters, filled in swamp land and allowed Napier to expand.
We left town, stocked up for a roughing-it style dinner at a roadside fruit stand with cheese, golden kiwis, and some bread, and then made our way to this little piece of paradise (now with groovin' soundtrack- either me singing songs about tiny towels or some Maori radio. I'm not sure which.)
Friday, August 10, 2012
12/8/11 Pacific Coast Highway
The day started well as we watched the sunrise. Sure we set off the car alarm twice in the pre-dawn hours , but things could only look up from there, right? Not so fast. It seemed ok for a while as we made our way to the East Cape. We had second breakfast at a Robert Harris coffee chain in Tauranga. Driving was going pretty ok for me. I was enjoying the road squiggles and trying to sort out my left from right. As we neared the point of no return I saw that the trip was going to take six more hours. I made a weak case for skipping the coast. On we went to the land of scenery. There were some beautiful vistas, the ocean in blues and greens, stormy clouds, sheep lice on chia pet hills, but the driving to to be too much and the scenery not enough.
Travel, hunger, tiredness, mis-communication, took us places we didn't want to go. Now we're stuck. We've driven a long way to do less. We've seen more of New Zealand in the mileage sense, but I'm frustrated with myself and us for cutting so much into our ability to explore. C had a great route planned for us, but I nudged it and then she pushed it and now we need to find a way to get back on track.
Pasta and salad at the Gisborne hostel thanks to Pak & Save got us back on track. The Tim Tams didn't hurt. Tomorrow we drive on...
Oh, I nearly forgot about the lunch spot on the "post-apocalyptic" beach- no tables, a creepy playground and gulls circling and coming way too close. We left in a hurry.
Travel, hunger, tiredness, mis-communication, took us places we didn't want to go. Now we're stuck. We've driven a long way to do less. We've seen more of New Zealand in the mileage sense, but I'm frustrated with myself and us for cutting so much into our ability to explore. C had a great route planned for us, but I nudged it and then she pushed it and now we need to find a way to get back on track.
Pasta and salad at the Gisborne hostel thanks to Pak & Save got us back on track. The Tim Tams didn't hurt. Tomorrow we drive on...
Oh, I nearly forgot about the lunch spot on the "post-apocalyptic" beach- no tables, a creepy playground and gulls circling and coming way too close. We left in a hurry.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
11/28/11 and 12/7/11- Supreme and the left
Upon reflection this day was great. It didn't always feel that way within, but as a whole it comes out a head. The main reason is the Supreme Court. I watched an oral argument. It was fascinating. The best part was body language. Clarence Thomas slouched a lot. Justices looked perplexed, thoughtful, frustrated, pleased and they joked and prodded. I would have been completely lost if not for the helpful explanation of a stranger in line. He helped me listen to the case with context.
The case was about standing, injury in fact or injury in law. It made sense at the time.
I actually had long-ish conversations with three strangers today. The last in a game shop where I may have completed Christmas shopping.
Productivity was solid. Activity was decent. Thankfulness good. Creativity didn't kick in until I captioned my photos. More to do tomorrow, but it will be hard to top today's success in court.
12/7/11- The Internet calls to me this morning. Its call is hunger, boredom, a need for connection. I have none of these things with much strength, but there's an emptiness before breakfast I'm going to look at the map and see if that settles me.
We're in Opoutere now at a quaint little campground with beach access. We spent several hours walking the beach and lounging about. It was quite nice. Driving out of Auckland was Xtreme!, but otherwise the left side of the road makes about as much sense as the right. Turns still scare me a bit, but for the most part I found a groove as we drove to and then rejected a Department of Conservation (DOC) campsite. It was lovely and spartan, but we were unprepared at that point.
We had lunch in a beach town, Tairua, at a joint called "Out of the Blue." It seemed family run. Both our dishes had plum sauce and were quite good. We also sampled L&P, world famous in New Zealand since ages ago, as recommeded by TJ and Reis . Tasty, but not noel like Malt in Iceland. I often find myself making comparisons like that, though not always with so much judgment. It's like I'm seeking to classify the experience with or near another I've had. Even the walk to the beach reminded me of Jurassic Park and I didn't even experience that. Hopefully a T-rex won't wake us from our tent slumber tonight. We can hear lots of birds and the wind is whipping over the hills, but I think crashing waves are out of earshot.
The case was about standing, injury in fact or injury in law. It made sense at the time.
I actually had long-ish conversations with three strangers today. The last in a game shop where I may have completed Christmas shopping.
Productivity was solid. Activity was decent. Thankfulness good. Creativity didn't kick in until I captioned my photos. More to do tomorrow, but it will be hard to top today's success in court.
12/7/11- The Internet calls to me this morning. Its call is hunger, boredom, a need for connection. I have none of these things with much strength, but there's an emptiness before breakfast I'm going to look at the map and see if that settles me.
We're in Opoutere now at a quaint little campground with beach access. We spent several hours walking the beach and lounging about. It was quite nice. Driving out of Auckland was Xtreme!, but otherwise the left side of the road makes about as much sense as the right. Turns still scare me a bit, but for the most part I found a groove as we drove to and then rejected a Department of Conservation (DOC) campsite. It was lovely and spartan, but we were unprepared at that point.
We had lunch in a beach town, Tairua, at a joint called "Out of the Blue." It seemed family run. Both our dishes had plum sauce and were quite good. We also sampled L&P, world famous in New Zealand since ages ago, as recommeded by TJ and Reis . Tasty, but not noel like Malt in Iceland. I often find myself making comparisons like that, though not always with so much judgment. It's like I'm seeking to classify the experience with or near another I've had. Even the walk to the beach reminded me of Jurassic Park and I didn't even experience that. Hopefully a T-rex won't wake us from our tent slumber tonight. We can hear lots of birds and the wind is whipping over the hills, but I think crashing waves are out of earshot.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
11/26/11 - Kermit and fate?
The Muppets were the highlight of the day. Better than the Pancake Pantry, better than the Cherokee Grill, better than a canoe ride around the lake, even better than a little run, enjoying the Muppets in theaters with Clare, Carol, and Mimi took the cake. I laughed. I nearly cried. I missed my grandma and our trips to the movies. I missed my childhood and the hopeful singing messages of those wonderful Jim Henson puppets. They were self-aware enough to be cool. Cheesy enough to be fun. I think I laughed more than anyone in the theater.
I'm ready to be home again. I hope I can last longer in New Zealand. Wait. One more note on the Muppets: I found it particularly troubling that Kermit had slipped into a life he'd never meant. If Kermit can't stay the course, how can the rest of us hope to?
I'm ready to be home again. I hope I can last longer in New Zealand. Wait. One more note on the Muppets: I found it particularly troubling that Kermit had slipped into a life he'd never meant. If Kermit can't stay the course, how can the rest of us hope to?
11/25/11 and 12/6/11- Naps and Mac's
Napping, hiking, eating, napping- today was a day of classic relaxation. We hiked to Abram Falls, about 5 miles and I'm not sure what else we did. I'm thankful that I got to spend some time with C and have a nice chat with her sister. I got a few decent photos, played a 30-minute hand of UNO and watched the tale end of Lohan's Freaky Friday. I go to bed thinking I need to run. It wasn't a bad day at all, but I look forward to eating better soon. Soon is probably not tomorrow. By better, I really only mean fewer desserts.
12/6- I crashed hard on the flight to Auckland and struggled to get to the youth hostel. We made it though. C said at one point my sleep was a snore. I remember saying that I didn't like the bed while sitting up, but as soon as I was prone it was glorious. I look forward to a return to bed right now.
I woke up early, maybe 6:30 NZ time, walked around the block, started a new book and then crashed until 10 AM. We had some pies for breakfast. What is silver beet? We then walked down Queen St. to the harbor. We looked at marked down Rugby World Cup merchandise, but didn't buy. C needed a nap, I went to a nearby square where Occupy Auckland and a live art display shared some space. I helped a small group of people put together a puzzle of red over-sized pieces. It had the desired effect as strangers were talking and working together. I left extremely satisfied. Not even giant seagulls or dancing businessmen with cell phones could deter me.
C and I ate lunch at a cafe called Shaky Isles. We then took a bus to Mt. Eden, a former volcano now with grassy crater, with great views of Auckland. There's much more to the city than we'll see, but we got ready for our meal with Daimon's friend TJ and his flat mate Reis. They are both comedians and it was a joy to share a Mac's beer and exchange observations and conversation. We had drinks at Cassette and dinner at Mezze. I'd to like to better recount the day and tie it to philosophy the way my book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance does, but sleep calls and I just want to get the day down. Tomorrow we drive--- on the left.
12/6- I crashed hard on the flight to Auckland and struggled to get to the youth hostel. We made it though. C said at one point my sleep was a snore. I remember saying that I didn't like the bed while sitting up, but as soon as I was prone it was glorious. I look forward to a return to bed right now.
I woke up early, maybe 6:30 NZ time, walked around the block, started a new book and then crashed until 10 AM. We had some pies for breakfast. What is silver beet? We then walked down Queen St. to the harbor. We looked at marked down Rugby World Cup merchandise, but didn't buy. C needed a nap, I went to a nearby square where Occupy Auckland and a live art display shared some space. I helped a small group of people put together a puzzle of red over-sized pieces. It had the desired effect as strangers were talking and working together. I left extremely satisfied. Not even giant seagulls or dancing businessmen with cell phones could deter me.
C and I ate lunch at a cafe called Shaky Isles. We then took a bus to Mt. Eden, a former volcano now with grassy crater, with great views of Auckland. There's much more to the city than we'll see, but we got ready for our meal with Daimon's friend TJ and his flat mate Reis. They are both comedians and it was a joy to share a Mac's beer and exchange observations and conversation. We had drinks at Cassette and dinner at Mezze. I'd to like to better recount the day and tie it to philosophy the way my book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance does, but sleep calls and I just want to get the day down. Tomorrow we drive--- on the left.
Thursday, July 05, 2012
12/5/11- A long day
There is no December 4 entry. It was gobbled up in a mess of time zones and travel. The flight to Sydney was better than expected. I watched "Bridesmaids," "Thor," and "I love you too" before finally getting to sleep at something like who knows what time- maybe ten to midnight Sydney time. I was very grateful for the in-flight entertainment options of Virgin Australia and for the kind flight attendants with brilliant accents. I slept off and on for four good hours and two average hours. The plane landed around 6:30 AM and we were seeing the Sydney sights by about 7:30.
The Opera House and the bridge were very photo-worthy in the morning. We walked the bridge, had a snack, headed to Balmain by ferry and had brunch. I enjoyed green eggs and ham. We walked Darling street for a while and battled fatigue. We then headed to Bondi beach. C had hopes of a nap on the beach, but a brisk wind and a light rain curtailed that desire. We walked Bondi street to Bondi junction passing souvenir shops and homes along the way. We had very little interest in anything as a desire to sleep grew stronger. We were looking forward to a New Zealand bed that night, but that was another three hour flight away. This is the other side of the world.
Arriving in Sydney, looking down at the ocean and trying to consider that we'd been over that water for 14 hours was too much to handle, but getting outside and getting to see some sites was worth it. Seeing the city as we landed was exciting. I sometimes forget how much I enjoy new places. There is mystery and fun in the new.
I'm tired and words aren't coming easily. The flight announcements are breaking my concentration. I'm easily distracted and easily angered. This may be the price of "time travel".
The Opera House and the bridge were very photo-worthy in the morning. We walked the bridge, had a snack, headed to Balmain by ferry and had brunch. I enjoyed green eggs and ham. We walked Darling street for a while and battled fatigue. We then headed to Bondi beach. C had hopes of a nap on the beach, but a brisk wind and a light rain curtailed that desire. We walked Bondi street to Bondi junction passing souvenir shops and homes along the way. We had very little interest in anything as a desire to sleep grew stronger. We were looking forward to a New Zealand bed that night, but that was another three hour flight away. This is the other side of the world.
Arriving in Sydney, looking down at the ocean and trying to consider that we'd been over that water for 14 hours was too much to handle, but getting outside and getting to see some sites was worth it. Seeing the city as we landed was exciting. I sometimes forget how much I enjoy new places. There is mystery and fun in the new.
I'm tired and words aren't coming easily. The flight announcements are breaking my concentration. I'm easily distracted and easily angered. This may be the price of "time travel".
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