Cow Poop and Private...

property...

would have been a more apt name for the scenic sounding "White Cliffs Walkway." 

After a day of loitering around the CBD (Kiwi talk for Central Business District) of New Plymouth, I had to do something. I set off in the morning to the above mentioned hike. 

The owner of the hotel I was staying at made an off-hand comment when I told her of  my day's intentions. "The local council is having issues with the property owners along the tract. It might be a bit strange." Well, the weather here has been strange (for so-called summer) why not the walkways? 

After about an hour's drive, I came face to face with a warning sign: "Private Road. No vehicles allowed past this point. Park at the bridge." 

OK. Not wanting to cause trouble or to be an Ugly American (we already have one in the White House), I parked my tiny sedan at the bridge. Then I walked...and walked...and walked for about 1.5 miles of one lane dirt or gravel road, while pirouetting around cow poop piles. It was cold and windy too. At last, I left the road and crested a few hills before I came to a prominent point. 

From the photos, one can see the violence of the Tasman Sea AND the Irish Emerald Isle look of the countryside. There's a reason for all that green. It rains an awful lot and it's too clammy for the grass to dry out. Hence, there's heaps of shocking green. 

Welcome to my summer in New Zealand. Just outside of New Plymouth, there's a large volcanic mountain. I haven't seen it yet, but I've heard it's there. Tomorrow, I'll get closer and hike along its flanks. There's a rumor, the sun might make a rare appearance, but that's just a Weather Channel rumor.

Wish me luck!

Come on Summer!

Jeff

The trees kept getting in...

the way of the views! Is an apt way to describe the Atene Skyline Tract. The eye candy rewards are few. Those darn trees obscured the possible photo ops that beckoned below those way too narrow ridge lines. I tip toed through a few dicey sections where possible owwies or worse could have happened with one misstep. I came across ferns so huge they required their own Zip Codes. Those Jurassic Park plants kept striking me on my exposed body parts, greatly impeding my forward progress. The tract went missing a few times as I found myself off on a goat trail. I know it was a goat trail because I saw and smelled a goat. 

In other words, another day of Kiwi hiking. Oh well, I got a great workout for those 11 miles. 

Now I'm in a cozy New Plymouth hotel room while another squall rages outside. It's going to last another 24 hours. 

Good thing there's a movie theatre and bars in this town.

BTW. The locals concur that this Southern Summer of 16/17 stinks on ice. (Like our new President) Spit! 

G'Night!

Jeff

A Hut too far...

After spending two nights at the Big Bush Holiday Park, (their motto: We Welcome you 

like the Black Death) I set off uphill on my second of six Great Walks. The Lake Waikaremoana Track.

It was a 1,500" ascent to a ridge line overlooking a large lake lying amongst a series of 

rounded hills. It looked sort of Appalachian in nature except for the forest. I was hiking 

within a temperate rain forest. The trees were gnarly, misshapen and draped with green 

mossy beards. The forest type would have been an appropriate backdrop for the "Headless Horseman" chase scene. It wasn't a "Joy!Joy!Happy! Happy!" looking place. It was sort of spooky. 

Perched at the highest prominence of the ridge line sat the Panekire Hut. If you've been following along, by now you know my Hut angst.

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.co.nz/2017/01/eight-cups-of-coffee.html

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.co.nz/2017/01/the-coldest-winter-i-ever-spent.html

I made entry while saying "Hello!" to my future too-cozy roommates. A quick look around 

made me realize the joint was dirtier and grimier than most. (That says a lot!) My fellow hut mates were cooking on a few backpacker stoves. Strange. Why weren't they using the hut's stove? 

Because the Lake Wiakaremoana Great Walk's Huts didn't have any stoves! Or Toilet Paper! A few huts further down the tract even lacked water! I made the Yank mistake of assuming all Great Walk Huts provided these simple amenities. Silly me! 

However, what these huts provided was a warning sign concerning a rat and mouse infestation in the hovels. The Department of Conservation politely suggested we campers hang our meager provender from the hooks provided. 

I mentioned my no stove plight to a family of Kiwis. The patriarch came through when he said, "No Worries! You can use ours for a few boils." Kiwis are very kind, generous and hospitable. 

That problem solved, I found a reasonable sleeping space with no personal space and pitched my gear on a mattress. (Eventually there were eighteen men, women and children sleeping in a 12"x16" room.) I grabbed my Kindle for a read, and took a seat outside, waiting for dinner 

time. 

My library quiet was shattered by the sound of a helicopter landing. Out of the Chopper emerged a Maori crew geared out in "Ghostbusters" attire. (Wasn't Halloween awhile ago?). The headman gathered us around and made a speech. The gist? We're from the Government and we're here to help you. Seems there's been an outbreak of Norovirus along the tract. Another apt name for this bug is the "Lose weight! Ask me how!" Virus. The crew came equipped with spray bottles of diluted Clorox to sterilize all surfaces (including the 

mattresses). They went about their business as I pondered this new development.

I decided to sleep on it and wait to see what manana would bring. 

I was up and about by 5 am. I wasn't the only one. Outside,  a westerly wind was screeching along. There were heaps of clouds scuttering by as well. I made a snap decision. 

I was still dealing with one stubborn virus, I wasn't about to go for twofers. I begged a boil of water, inhaled my trusty shot of instant Starbucks buzz and headed back down the way 

I came.

If I went on, a sixteen mile trek in wind and maybe rain awaited me. My goal would have 

been a hovel contains 39 other two-legged strangers and who knows how many four-legged vermin. Not very appealing. Was it? 

I'm in Napier hotel room which according to New Zealand's DOC would sleep about a billion campers with gear. I'm not too bummed to have it to myself, although female type company would be nice too. (I'm still  looking for my potential First Lady.) 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.co.nz/2016/11/my-2020-presidential-campaign-begins.html

Goodnight!

Jeff