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

Eight Cups of coffee...

later, I set off for my first of six New Zealand Great Walks. (Tongariro Northern Circuit)

Why did I drink all that Java Juice? 

I needed to gird myself for another day of cool, grey and possibly wet weather. The method behind the caffeine is to get so wired, I have to do something with all that black liquid energy. 

 Off I went at a brisk pace for a short day of hiking. My goal was to arrive before the hordes at the first hut. I wanted to score the choicest nighty-night spot in the joint.

The trail was relatively flat and uneventful. I didn't shoot one photo. I made it to the hut before the winds kicked in. Ahh...one sleeping pad sat alone. It was away from the no-personal space how-many-mattresses-can-we-cram on a platform arrangement. I tossed my ULA backpack on the loner. Mission Accomplished. 

I kicked back, read, drank tea and waited. Backpackers began to drift in. I acted as the unofficial Welcome Wagon. Eventually the lashing rains arrived with a sustained 30 MPH wind. Temperatures began to fall. The tent campers abandoned ship. Before one could say, "G'Day!" there were about 40 relative strangers crammed into a space smaller than Trump's (spit) broom closet. 

Yet, more arrived. A father and son team wearing nothing but cotton showed up in the wash-cycle wet mode.  Ironically, they were both Eagle Scouts from Tennessee. So much for the Boy Scout motto-"Be Prepared." They shivered by the fire staving off hyperthermia. 

At 7:30 pm, Marcel the Hut Ranger arrived. He gave a safety talk, told a few stories and informed us about the weather. "I think this storm will be gone in the morning. When I get the forecast at breakfast time, I'll let you know." 

We guests retired to our all-too-communal bedroom and tried to sleep. Not an easy task with a symphony of rattling windows, snoring hikers and one coughing, sputtering W W Jew. 

Next morning met us with a gentle drizzle minus the cold breeze. We packed silently while waiting to hear our fate. 

Marcel strolled in around 7, "The forecast is a good one for your crossing. It should get sunny. The winds will die down to a mere 40 KPH (25 miles/Hour). Get out of here before it changes. I don't want to see any of you back here tonight." 

I was the first out the door. 

The Tongariro Crossing was the goal of the day. An approximate 2,200" climb to a saddle straddling two still-active volcanoes. 

It's also the most popular day hike on the North Island. A whole cottage industry has sprung up to cater to these day tripper Warriors. Tours can practically be booked while you are ordering fries at a Burger King. The Crossing has apparently achieved "Bucket List" status. I shared the trail with this ill-prepared for the elements, selfie stick carrying mob. 

It was a steady climb to the first of three ascents. As I ticked off each ridge line, the wind speed turned up a notch. (A 120 MPH gust was reported within the past week). I donned my Windstopper Jacket after the first ridge. I guesstimated the winds to be in the 40 MPH range. It was enough, that I wasn't comfortable getting too close to the edge of the ridge. I shot photos, had other hikers shoot me and thought, "Now this is good scenery!" There's mineral laden lakes bearing blue-green hues,  steam vents off-gassing sulfur (rotten egg smell), one Red Crater and of course the mountains. It was all worth the physical effort. 

I descended to less winds and warmer temperatures. Once again, I was the first to make entry at the hut. Unfortunately, there were no hermit mattresses lying off to one side. I chose one adjacent to a wall. At least I would half my exposure to flailing arms and legs. Trampers arrived displaying tired yet satisfied looks. The most difficult leg of the circuit was in the books. 

I woke, saw a good window of weather and decided to walk back to civilization. I yearned for a hotel, hot shower and no roommates whose names I did not know. After 14 miles of effort, I got my wish. 

In retrospect, I would have signed up just to do the Crossing. I'm starting to get to the point where a night without a hut is fine with me. 

From a comfy Quality Inn in Napier, NZ

Cheers!

Jeff

PS. I picked up antibiotics from the local hospital. Total cost for seeing a Doc and medicine = $65.00. Why is our health care so expensive? 

The coldest winter I ever saw...

was a summer in New Zealand." 

Jeff Sambur

Prologue: As I was having my Passport stamped at Kiwi Customs, the friendly Agent said this, "Welcome to New Zealand! Be sure to pick up your complimentary cold germ before you leave the airport. You can choose to be infected with a head or chest cold, or both."

"Heck! I'll take both!" I can never pass up a good deal.

Now The Saga:

The Round the Mountain backpack trip in Tongariro National Park.

Laden with a frightfully heavy backpack, and a energy sucking virus, I set off to my first Hut. The reason for the ridiculous load was a crappy forecast. Gale force winds, threat of rain and sub-summery temperatures. I was carrying kilos of warm clothes. 

Let's talk Kiwi wind. It's no summer breeze and it won't make you feel fine. When the winds take the Express Train out of nearby Antarctica, there's practically ice crystals accompanying them. It's an instant chill despite the sunshine. I tried to limit my fuss breaks, the sweating to clammy cycle was too harsh. 

It can get psychotic windy in Kiwi-Land. Long ago a backcountry Hut near Mount Cook blew away. There were four unhappy campers inside. Now I noticed steel guy-wires holding down outhouses. That's extreme wind. 

A word about Kiwi Huts: The sleeping arrangements are not set to Americans idea of personal space and privacy. Mattresses are placed side by side on a wooden platform. There's not a toothpick-thin space of wiggle room between them. You can be facing a grimy stranger (like me) face to face with less than an arm's length separation. It freaked me out. I ended up carrying my mattress to the kitchen area when everyone settled down. 

Back to the Hike: The tramp was described as a route. Luckily, neon-orange poles are placed about 60 feet apart. Without them, one could quickly get lost in a sometimes featureless landscape. The trail (that's a joke!) is more like an obstacle course. There's relentless climbs and descents bisecting gulches, gorges and canyons. There's no wimpy switchbacks or contouring involved. The routes goes straight up and straight down. It's in-your-face hiking. 

The other obstructions to forward progress are mud, bowling ball-sized boulders, tree roots, scree fields and icy river crossings. (I was up to my waist in one snow-melt waterway.) There were times I was crawling on my knees. I fell a few times each day. On the really hard parts, I averaged about one mile/Hour. It was all so humbling. 

I returned back to civilization the most thumped and exhausted I've ever been from a backpack trip. Ahh...but the scenery was there. Tongariro National Park is comprised of still active volcanoes. I stumbled my way around one of them.

Oh yeah, I also nearly chopped off my finger while splitting firewood! So far, this has been a rough start to my Kiwi Adventure. 

Now as I cough, sneeze and drink an IPA outside my hotel room, I'm feeling warm for the first time since my arrival here. Maybe my fortune is changing. I can only hope.

On the positive side, locals are incredibly friendly and I've adapted to driving on the opposite side of the road. 

Tomorrow I'll start another three-night backpack trip on a far gentler trail. Wish me luck. 

Come on Summer!

Cheers!

Jeff

A day in Auckland..

It took me nine hours of sleep to get over the forever flight from LAX to Auckland, New Zealand. Today, I had a very productive day of picking up supplies for two months of Kiwi-style hiking and sightseeing. After my chores were done, I strolled around.

First off, Auckland is not only the largest city in NZ, it's also the most cosmopolitan. There's people from everywhere here. I overheard many strange tongues including the Kiwi version of English. I had meal choices from all over the globe, even Botswana! The locals are friendly and everyone seems to get along quite splendidly.

This two-island Nation has a total population of 4.7 million. Tomorrow, I'll be happily leaving one third of those Kiwis behind. I'm ready to see some seriously Southern natural places. After spending two months in Scottsdale, I want out of the city scene.

New Zealand! Show me the scenery!

G'Day!

Jeff

So Long ...

 Scottsdale!

I'm worn out from being a lonely Blue Jew in an overwhelming Sea of Red.

Next stop, New Zealand. Those British White Folks sought peace with the native Maoris instead of war. See? It's possible to get along. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2016/12/heres-virtual-toast.html

I'm looking forward to meeting my first Hobbit. 

Happy New Year in an uncertain World,

Jeff

PS. To be honest, this is what I'm escaping from. I'm in Fight or Flight mode from President-Elect SB Tweets. See below. Enemies? Aren't we all mostly tax paying Americans? 

Happy New Year to all, including to my many enemies and those who have fought me and lost so badly they just don’t know what to do. Love!”

Here's a virtual toast...

to the dawning of the new Dark Ages.

WARNING: This post is Rated R for Rant and Strong Language.

After Black Tuesday, (Election Day), I "sat Shiva." 

For those of you who aren't of the Jewish persuasion, here is the definition from Wikipedia: 

"Shiva is the week long period of mourning following a loved one's death The word “shiva” means seven, signifying the seven day mourning period in which mourners are supposed to sit low to the ground." 

My deep grief was over the death of the Country I once loved so much. A Nation forged on the noble notion that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness." (Declaration of Independence. 1776). 

Lady Liberty was murdered late Election night by President-Elect Scumbag. But just before he slid the knife across her exposed jugular, he reached down and "grabbed her p---y"

Faster than one can say Electoral College, America the Beautiful morphed into America the Badass. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary: : likely to cause trouble : tough and dangerous)

The finality of Death was the only way I could deal with this. 

How could so many Americans go Helen Keller (both deaf and blind) to all the vitriol The Tax Evader was spewing?

How was it possible to ignore the Never-Worked-A-Real-Job  Billionare taunting a handicapped person, his claims that Latinos immigrants were "criminals and rapists," the insane idea of registering Muslims, his threats to throw his opponent in jail or worse, suggesting her Secret Service officers "disarm, let's see what happens to her." 

If your child exhibited behavior as the above mentioned; would you tolerate it?

How about the strange bedfellows his campaign attracted? More endorsements from White Supremacist hate groups than major newspapers or former Presidents. The chants of "Sieg Heil" and "Jews suck a--" at his more vocal rallies. 

Oh yeah, let's not forget the unfurling of the multitude of Confederate flags. The cloth symbol that's it OK for one race to subjugate another race under the pretext of State's Rights. 

Lastly, the infamous "P---y grabbing" comment captured on video in 2005. A zebra can't change his stripes. That's the man who will be the "FaceTime" representative of the US for four long years.

As CNN contributor Van Jones expressed it "You can't polish this turd."

I could go on and on, but I made my point.

Here's my predictions of what might happen. I'm not saying I will bat 1000 on this, but I will get on base more than I'll strike out. Please remove those Ray Ban sunglasses, the future isn't bright. 

This will not be the "Compassionate Conservatism" preached by President George W. Bush. Federally funded Social Welfare programs will be discarded like a half empty glass of Bud Lite with a cigarette butt floating inside. Ironically, many of President Game Show Host's supporters will find their economic life raft torpedoed beneath them. America will truly become a sink or swim society. 

More Americans will fall below the poverty line. There were 43.1 million unfortunates in 2015. This figure will go up. If you think there's a lot of homeless folks out there, wait until 2020. There will be heaps more. 

There will be an increase in Hate Crimes. No need to elaborate on this. It'll happen. Candidate Demagogue unleashed the hate mongers. (Hitler never directly murdered anyone, but his rants were responsible for 11 million victims perishing in Germany's concentration camps.) 

America's influence on the International scene will be marginalized. Our"unpredictable" foreign policy will alienate our present-day allies and create new adversaries. The US will be the schoolyard bully whom all the kids fear, but none want to play with. 

The new Administration will ignore the "Climate Change" issue, even though we rank second in the World for carbon footprint impact. 

There will be no new "reasonable" gun control legislation. The few constraints on procuring firearms will be shot down. Purchasing a weapon of mini-mass death and destruction will be as easy as "Coffee, Tea or Glock?" There will be an uptick in the number of mass murder incidents. http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2016/07/freedom-is-not-free.html

This Administration will be one of the most corrupt and scandal ridden in our Nation's history. It'll be so impressive in this regard, Banana Republic dictators will stand up and take notice. 

There will zero to minimum net gain in acreage of Federal Wilderness Areas, National Parks or Monuments. A few western states will attempt a State Rights Land Grab to gather Federally owned property. Some states will be successful. Roadless area conservation will once again come under fire. The "Varoom! Varoom!" motor driven crowds will win new areas of public lands to trample. All in all, Federally owned land will be managed for the short term. I.E: "Drill, baby drill!" will be the new law of the land. 

The promises of manufacturing jobs materializing out of Mount Everest thin air isn't a reality. Automation and robotics have replaced the need for flesh and blood in many workplaces. Without a revival of "Luddites," those jobs aren't coming back. Big Business doesn't give a poop about creating jobs.It's all about the Bottom Line. 

Economically, look forward to a return of stagflation. 

From Investopedia: "A condition of slow economic growth and relatively high unemployment – economic stagnation – accompanied by rising prices, or inflation, or inflation and a decline in Gross Domestic Product (GDP). " 

This last prediction came from a "Reliable Source."

For the Commoners, taxes will stay about the same. Health insurance premiums will continue to spiral, with a reduction in benefits. In other words=no change. 

Under President Bravado, the World will be closer to a nuclear holocaust. An impulsive, "my way or the highway" macho man will have his finger on the trigger of the ultimate Pop Gun. 

Lastly, President Scumbag will sashay out of the Oval Office the richest "Bad Hombre" in the World. 

That's it!

In November 2020, Americans will wake up, blink a few times, look around and notice America isn't any greater. In fact, it'll be a lot worse. Many of you will look at the bottle of snake oil you purchased from the Billionaire Con Man, and read the fine print. 

"These four years of Bad Government are non-refundable." 

But there's always HOPE!

By the time 2020 rolls around, I believe most good-hearted Americans will be ready for a Second Renaissance. 

Which is what my candidacy is all about. (There's still an opening for the First Lady spot)

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

"Let's Make America Civil Again!" 

(I know I wasn't a nice Jewish Boy to President-Elect Scumbag, but even a 5'4", 138 pound, 62 year-old Pacifist feels the need to stand up to a Bully) 

From the Cambridge Dictionary: Scumbag-"a very unpleasant person who has done something dishonest or unacceptable") 

I'm Jeff Sambur and I'll make a better President than the spoiled rich kid who doesn't understand the simple concept of "No! Means No!"

Finally, I'll leave you with my Campaign song. Sure, it's a bit dated but the ideas are needed now more than ever.

"Get Together" by the Youngbloods (1967)

Love is but a song to sing
Fear's the way we die
You can make the mountains ring
Or make the angels cry
Though the bird is on the wing
And you may not know why

Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now

Some may come and some may go
We shall surely pass
When the one that left us here
Returns for us at last
We are but a moment's sunlight
Fading in the grass

Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now

If you hear the song I sing
You will understand (listen!)
You hold the key to love and fear
All in your trembling hand
Just one key unlocks them both
It's there at your command

Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now

Right now
Right now

If you've made it this far in my post, have a Happy and healthy New Year. I'll be in New Zealand, practicing IPA diplomacy. 

Someone has to tear down the walls this Ugly American Administration will be building.

My future posts will be more upbeat. I'll be doing what I love once again. Visiting beautiful places, taking photos and writing about it. 

Be well. 

DTCP in 20