Sunday, September 28, 2008
Going out and the social constuct of "the bartender"
When we went out in NZ, it was to pubs that we knew and more importantly pubs where we knew the bartender. This was so that they would make us fun interesting drinks before we headed on to the next bar. The Bartender was the most important man of the evening as if we knew him the night would be very interesting. If we somehow happened to stumble into a pub whose bartender was unknown to us, it was a problem quickly remedied and the progression of the night was taken in a new direction as we acquainted ourselves with this new friend. The night was comprised of a bunch of friends sitting around different pubs and drinking novel mixed drinks before moving on to the next pub. In Rochester the bar scene is different. I would in this place like to comment on American cities and contrast them with New Zealand cities, however, I only went to pubs in Auckland and Rochester. Different big cities in America may have similar attributes that I am unfamiliar with. That being said, the pub scene in Rochester is far different. Namely, we don't go to pubs. The times that I have have been a great time, highly enjoyable, but in a completely different sense. They are a time of sitting with one or two friends and drinking a beer, we generally stay at the same pub throughout the night and there have never been, in my experience, any heretofore unheard of mixed drinks. I want to go on a pub crawl with Sam again and have Jono mix us drinks. The friends I have here are not bartenders and the bartenders are not ostensibly befriendable. This is one thing that I miss.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Nelson
First off, I would like to say that there will be no pictures of this trip. I made sure to charge my camera battery before I left, but apparently I did it wrong and drained the battery instead of charging it. This was really frustrating as there were a ton of great things to photo throughout the weekend.
I was apprehensive about the whole trip as it was solo and I had no phone. I ended up using Sam's old one, which turned out to be a necessity. I had pre-booked a super shuttle to pick me up at 4:30am so that I could make the plane on time, but they ended up not showing up, and as I had not left myself a very large margin for error time-wise, I ended up hailing a cab and paying way more that I should have to get to the airport. I never found out what happened to the super shuttle.
I arrived in Nelson early and the host of hostel I was staying at, The Bug, came to pick me up in an old time VW bug, it was pretty cool. Went to the Isite and booked a trip to Abel Tasman for the next two days and spent the rest of the morning looking for something to do in Nelson. It is a quiet town, reminded me a lot of Bozeman or even Jackson Hole minus the ski hills. I ended up renting a car, a manual, and heading out to the Motueka river to do some fly fishing. the
water was frigid and I ended up not getting so much as a bite. But I did have a good time and enjoyed myself in the fishing. I had a little run in with the car. Having the extra foot and hand to think about was a bit much for me and I ended up turning onto the wrong side of the street. I couldn't figure out how to put the car in reverse (there was a ring around the stick that you had to lift that I didn't know about) so I pulled into a car park and called the rental place. I was so pleased that got it all figured out that I didn't think as I was pulling out of the park lot and I went into the wrong lane. It just happened once, and on a deserted street no less, no one was coming but there were some guys working construction on the side of the road who swore at me. The whole incident got me pretty nervous about driving and it was kinda stressful for the rest of the day. I got back ok though, no accidents or anything. The next morning I turned the car in and got on the bus for Abel Tasman.
Took the water taxi to Tonga and walked to the Anchorage hut for the night, it was a 4ish hour hike along really nice easy terrain, I did most of it in my jandals. The aquataxi took us around and showed us some stuff that I would have taken pictures of if my camera had any batteries. This included a marine reserve and some seals swimming around in the area. I rode the aquataxi with a number of older people, five of whom comprised the bulk of the Nelson city tramping club. I ended up falling in with them for the day and I was instructed on most of the native flora and fauna by one of those older, izzoine gentlemen, the kind who know everything about where ever they happen to be at the moment, and I did learn a lot. We separated as when they arrived at the hut they were staying in, and I continued to the next one. I chose to take the path labeled "low tide track" and was almost in over my head, the bottom was
nice and muddy and I almost lost my jandals and ended up having to strip my jeans off so that they wouldn't get wet as I forded the estuary. After that the track had some steep hills but nothing bad, it was a pretty easy hike all in all. There was one other are that claimed to be a low tide crossing, and I tried to make that, but after just about getting trapped by the tide out in the mud flats, I ended up going around the long way. A warning to anyone doing that tramp: the tide comes in very fast, it's not a good idea to try to risk it. I arrived at the hut just before dark, threw my bag on a bed, drank my wine and ate dinner. I went to sleep pretty early and got up pretty late. I was one of the last out of the hut, but I had a 4 hour hike and 7ish hours to do it in. I ended up hiking nice and easy and getting out about half an hour before the bus came to pick me up. I ended up getting off the trail just before the end and onto a beach, the tide was out at this point and there were sand dollars, cushion stars, and mussels all over the place. The sand dollars were all covered by a little sand, but you could easily find them as the sand covering them had the standard five pointed star-shape-pattern that they all have on their backs.
I checked into the hostel called "accents on the park" that night as the bug was full. There happened to be a huge international fiddle music weekend going on in nelson that weekend and most of the musicians were staying at the same hostel. I went down to the pub in the basement and listened to great Irish music for a half an hour, met a kiwi girl who was pretty cute but it turned out she was kinda young. Then all of the sudden everyone emptied out of the pub and it was practically just me and the bartender. He said that there was the big concert of the weekend going on then, but I probably wouldn't be able to get a ticket as they had been sold out for a couple weeks. He ended up giving me his, which he got for free as a complimentary thing for housing so many of the musicians, but since he was on shift he wouldn't be able to make it. The concert was great, there was a couple locals playing, who were pretty good, then a group from Australia and finally a guy and girl from Ireland, native Gaelic speakers both and that was pretty much amazing. After the concert they all went to the local pub and played until like four in the morning. The next day I bummed around Nelson and ended up at a pub that afternoon listening to them jam some more. It was quite annoying that I didn't have my fiddle to play with them, but what can you do? Slept at the bug that night and flew back the next morning.
I was apprehensive about the whole trip as it was solo and I had no phone. I ended up using Sam's old one, which turned out to be a necessity. I had pre-booked a super shuttle to pick me up at 4:30am so that I could make the plane on time, but they ended up not showing up, and as I had not left myself a very large margin for error time-wise, I ended up hailing a cab and paying way more that I should have to get to the airport. I never found out what happened to the super shuttle.
I arrived in Nelson early and the host of hostel I was staying at, The Bug, came to pick me up in an old time VW bug, it was pretty cool. Went to the Isite and booked a trip to Abel Tasman for the next two days and spent the rest of the morning looking for something to do in Nelson. It is a quiet town, reminded me a lot of Bozeman or even Jackson Hole minus the ski hills. I ended up renting a car, a manual, and heading out to the Motueka river to do some fly fishing. the
water was frigid and I ended up not getting so much as a bite. But I did have a good time and enjoyed myself in the fishing. I had a little run in with the car. Having the extra foot and hand to think about was a bit much for me and I ended up turning onto the wrong side of the street. I couldn't figure out how to put the car in reverse (there was a ring around the stick that you had to lift that I didn't know about) so I pulled into a car park and called the rental place. I was so pleased that got it all figured out that I didn't think as I was pulling out of the park lot and I went into the wrong lane. It just happened once, and on a deserted street no less, no one was coming but there were some guys working construction on the side of the road who swore at me. The whole incident got me pretty nervous about driving and it was kinda stressful for the rest of the day. I got back ok though, no accidents or anything. The next morning I turned the car in and got on the bus for Abel Tasman.
Took the water taxi to Tonga and walked to the Anchorage hut for the night, it was a 4ish hour hike along really nice easy terrain, I did most of it in my jandals. The aquataxi took us around and showed us some stuff that I would have taken pictures of if my camera had any batteries. This included a marine reserve and some seals swimming around in the area. I rode the aquataxi with a number of older people, five of whom comprised the bulk of the Nelson city tramping club. I ended up falling in with them for the day and I was instructed on most of the native flora and fauna by one of those older, izzoine gentlemen, the kind who know everything about where ever they happen to be at the moment, and I did learn a lot. We separated as when they arrived at the hut they were staying in, and I continued to the next one. I chose to take the path labeled "low tide track" and was almost in over my head, the bottom was
nice and muddy and I almost lost my jandals and ended up having to strip my jeans off so that they wouldn't get wet as I forded the estuary. After that the track had some steep hills but nothing bad, it was a pretty easy hike all in all. There was one other are that claimed to be a low tide crossing, and I tried to make that, but after just about getting trapped by the tide out in the mud flats, I ended up going around the long way. A warning to anyone doing that tramp: the tide comes in very fast, it's not a good idea to try to risk it. I arrived at the hut just before dark, threw my bag on a bed, drank my wine and ate dinner. I went to sleep pretty early and got up pretty late. I was one of the last out of the hut, but I had a 4 hour hike and 7ish hours to do it in. I ended up hiking nice and easy and getting out about half an hour before the bus came to pick me up. I ended up getting off the trail just before the end and onto a beach, the tide was out at this point and there were sand dollars, cushion stars, and mussels all over the place. The sand dollars were all covered by a little sand, but you could easily find them as the sand covering them had the standard five pointed star-shape-pattern that they all have on their backs.
I checked into the hostel called "accents on the park" that night as the bug was full. There happened to be a huge international fiddle music weekend going on in nelson that weekend and most of the musicians were staying at the same hostel. I went down to the pub in the basement and listened to great Irish music for a half an hour, met a kiwi girl who was pretty cute but it turned out she was kinda young. Then all of the sudden everyone emptied out of the pub and it was practically just me and the bartender. He said that there was the big concert of the weekend going on then, but I probably wouldn't be able to get a ticket as they had been sold out for a couple weeks. He ended up giving me his, which he got for free as a complimentary thing for housing so many of the musicians, but since he was on shift he wouldn't be able to make it. The concert was great, there was a couple locals playing, who were pretty good, then a group from Australia and finally a guy and girl from Ireland, native Gaelic speakers both and that was pretty much amazing. After the concert they all went to the local pub and played until like four in the morning. The next day I bummed around Nelson and ended up at a pub that afternoon listening to them jam some more. It was quite annoying that I didn't have my fiddle to play with them, but what can you do? Slept at the bug that night and flew back the next morning.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Arthur's Pass
"Once a journey is designed, equipped, and put in process, a new factor takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, in an entity, different from all other journeys. It has a personality, temperament, individuality, uniqueness. A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. Tour masters, schedules, brassbound and inevitable,dash themselves to wreckage on the personality of the trip. Only when this is recognized can the blown-in -the-glass bum relax and go along with it. In this a journey is like a marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it." John Steinbeck, 1962, Travels with Charley
Caught the airbus Thursday morning, flight out at 1100 went from Auckland to Wellington to Christchurch. Arrived just before Kieft and met him outside the international gate. Took the bus into town and walked through the main square to find the wicked van rental company. It was cloudy and raining which was kinda a bummer. The first thing Tyler noticed as we got off the bus was a sign on the top of a building: "IBM". We got some pictures, him with his sign and me in front of the cathedral (god did not smite me down from on high so I figure it must have been ok) and then we continued on to the rental place.
We got our van, 'Foul Notions' with a quote on the back saying: "A wise man covers his arse, a smart man leaves his pants on." It had a kitchen in the back, with a pump sink and a counter, there was a gas stove, some chairs and a table inside that folded down into a bed. It was a great van all the way around. By this point it was too late to drive anywhere that night so we went to the shopping center and stocked up on food and gas. Once we were provisioned we sat to make some plans as we had no idea what the weekend would entail. While we were shopping a lady decided to give us some advice. From everything she told us, I realized the wisdom in two of the lines written by Steinbeck: "A man who seeing his mother starving to death on a path kicks her in the stomach to clear the way, will cheerfully devote several hours of his time to giving wrong directions to a total stranger" and "The impulse of the American woman to geld her husband and castrate her sons is very strong." She wasn't American and we weren't her sons but if she wasn't trying to castrate us I don't know what she was doing. Tyler, being less experienced and thus more susceptible to such advice was quite strongly affected by her warnings, and I was getting worried that he would call the trip off. To his credit he endeavored to see it through, and I am ashamed for ever doubting him.
Her advice is, for the most part, lost to my recollection. This may be due to the fact that it extended over the better part of an hour. I recall only three points she made: first that the weather in Arthur's Pass is horrible, snowing, and most likely impassable, second that Christchurch is a bad city - we should not trust anyone there as they will most likely add drugs to our drinks and commit other such unthinkable atrocities, and third that it would be best if we headed north to spend the weekend at the hot springs. Her advice was as long and glorious as it was wrong. We ended up doing almost the exact opposite of what she told us.
We spent Thursday night, the first night, in Christchurch. We found a car park in the botanical gardens and left the van there and headed into town. As we were leaving we saw some guys breaking into a van parked near ours, and with the fell advice ringing in our ears we decided to walk the away from the city for a couple minutes, then double back past our van to make sure that ours wasn't next. We turned around a bit early as they were still working on the original one when we passed again, so we stood in the shadow of a tree and watched for a while. We were getting pretty nervous about the situation. The tension we felt was diffused quite effectively when a locksmith van drove up.
Our night started at the Bog, which was interesting as I was in the bog in Auckland the day before. From there we walked around, found a souvenir shop, a billiards hall and a couple other pubs, until we arrived at the Grumpy Mole Saloon. It was dry, had a fire, and 3$ beers and we were set for the evening. Presently a kiwi approached us, 18 or 19 years old, scrawny as hell and pissed as. He introduced himself to us as Karl and proceeded to tell us about a number of his nefarious and surprisingly improbable sexual escapades. They were quite interesting and kept the two of us entertained for a while. We eventually decided that he was going to show us the club that was most hopping that night, which happened to be across the street (Christchurch isn't all that big). The bouncer apparently knew of him and wouldn't let him in so we parted ways and Tyler and I went into the club. It was still a bit early and no one was there so we promptly left to try and find our wayward friend, but it was of no avail. We went back to the Grumpy Mole and ended up at the club later that night. The club itself seemed fine to me, although I was quite intoxicated at that point, but Kieft said that it seemed really sketchy, although he admitted that the lady's dire warning was still on his mind. We ended the night with a nice walk back in the rain and once Tyler was able to de-stress a little bit (yeah - that's what they're calling it these days) we hit the sack. It was a good night, but I had one hell of a hangover the next day.
The next morning we started out toward Arthur's Pass after buying myself a merino and possum fur hat - which was quite expensive, but well worth it. Though it was still cloudy, the drive was beautiful, the leaves were changing colours, and the road was empty. We arrived at Castle Hill and stopped for some pictures. Some of the pine trees there were bright orange, while others were the standard green. I couldn't decide if they have some species of deciduous pines or if some of the trees were infected with something, but it was quite an interesting juxtaposition.
We didn't stop to climb then as it was a bit wet and we wanted to get to the pass to do a tramp before it got dark. An hour later we arrived at a huge sign welcoming us to Arthur's pass national park, so we got some pics and continued on our way.
The weather didn't improve in the pass at all, but we were able to get some good views and pictures including this one of Mt Rolleston, which I am very proud of.
she will stand forever
elegant in mystery
a brief passing for one
to meet and learn and know
her ephemeral eternity
(This poem was an addition on 11 Nov 2008. I found it in the archives of my computer. I believe that I wrote is as it references this picture. As I don't often write poetry, I think it a good idea to include it here lest it be lost.)
We stopped in at the visitors center at a tiny town named for the pass and checked the weather, hoping it would be clear enough to hike avalanche peak in the morning. We were told that the weather is so variable that we would need to check again in the morning and we were given some other tramp ideas to fill the rest of the day. We hiked to Devils Punchbowl Falls, a short easy hike to a fairly impressive 130m falls, and then we went up to the Temple Basin Track which turned out to be a ski hill. We have no idea how one is supposed to get from the car park to the base of the lift, it took us over an hour. We continued up a scree field under the lift line and were met by a group of Keas.
The kea is related to the parrot, the main differences being that keas are green with red under their wings and they live in alpine areas instead of the tropics. They are very smart and quite cheeky. They love to pull apart anything they can get ahold of, including cameras and cars, and they have been known to bite peoples legs to startle us into dropping food that they can then steal. We had no food and kept a tight hold on our cameras, and the keas kept their distance. The first one swooped over us and landed less than a metre from where we were walking and just sat there showing off for us to take pictures of.
We got to the top of the ski hill and screed back down - a pastime I find a great amount of guilty pleasure in, as it is so much fun and yet it erodes the mountain so bad. The return trip took less than half the time going up did.
We were both quite cold by the end of the tramp, as neither of us had gloves and it was quite cold, not rainy but definitely cold. We went to a pub called Arthur's and had a hot chocolate and some dinner and hung out for the rest of the evening, then we retired to our van, camped and slept. We were the only ones in the whole town of Arthur's Pass who didn't live there, and there can't be more than 50 or so people living there - the barmaid at Arthur's was the same all three days as was the lady working at the visitors center.
The next morning we got up, made shake and bake pancakes and were told that the weather was too cloudy and snowy to go up avalanche peak. We were advised that the west coast might have better weather and it should be fun to go and see the glaciers. We decided that this was a good idea and headed west.
There was a large bridge called the viaduct that was built some years ago, as a human structure I didn't find it quite as neat as Tyler did, but it was impressive. There were even some covered parts of the road that diverted water or falling rocks over and away from the cars.
The drive to the Franz Josef Glacier was pretty neat. There is only one road in the area that goes from the east to west coast and we were on it and yet we didn't pass another car but every 10 minutes or so. As soon as we got out of the pass the weather improved to no end. It was suddenly sunny and warm. The drive to the glaciers was scenic but long, and we arrived with enough time to hike each of them before the sun set. We were not actually able to walk on the glaciers as that requires crampons and a tour guide and more money than we wanted to spend, but we were able to get right up to the bottom of each of them. The picture below is the Fox Glacier. Apparently they are both advancing and doing so about 10x faster than any other glacier in the world as their catchments are so wide and the mouths are so narrow. There were signs along the road driving in that pointed out where the leading edge was in 1750 &c. It was quite apparent how far the glacier had retreated since then, and even though it's advancing now, there is a long way to go before it gets anywhere close to what it was then.
We cooked dinner at the town of Franz Josef and started back to camp somewhere closer to Arthur's pass that night. We were running low on petrol but the prices were so high (2.10$/Litre - we paid 1.83$/L in Christchurch with a .10$/L off coupon) we didn't stop to fill up. We finally coasted into a town called Hari Hari and stopped at the petrol station. The price was 2.13$/L but there was nowhere else and we were completely out. The only problem was that the station was closed. We stopped at a pub and asked about where we could get petrol and were told that the station would be open again on Monday. It was Saturday afternoon and our planes left on Monday morning at 6 so that wasn't going to work. The Bartender suggested that if we were to go to the owners house and ask politely, he might be willing to open the station for us. We did and he did, and he only charged us 20$ as an opening fee - good way to make money if you ask me, and I noticed that the alleged "opening fee" didn't go into the cash register with the petrol money either. But at least we weren't stranded in some little nothing of a town the entire weekend.
We were able to get all the way back to Arthur's Pass that night. I drove, which was quite enjoyable, and as there is no restriction against open bottles of beer in the car, Kieft had a few on the way back (there are restrictions against driving under the influence and even if there weren't I would have refrained - a.) I was driving and b.) it feels to weird to drink in a car anyway.) He was in a pretty happy state by the time we got to the Pass and we ended up making the bed and heading to the only open bar in town. That makes it sound like there were lots of bars which is misleading: there were only 2, this one, which was open and Arthur's, which was closed. We had a pint or two and headed back to the van to get an early start on the day and hopefully, if the weather improved, on avalanche peak.
The clouds were present in the morning, but they were higher than the previous days and moving so the DOC lady gave us a tentative 'all's clear' with a warning to watch the weather and turn back if the visibility got low. That's all we needed - we bought some gloves and started out, up the Scott's track to avalanche peak.
We choose Scott's track instead of avalanche peak track as it was allegedly less steep and easier to descend were the weather to turn bad. It was incredibly steep, and we were left wondering what the other track must be like. We felt like we were on Gollum's endless stair, and not even out of the bush yet, there was still a huge alpine meadow and then a ridge to traverse.
The Keas came out once we were above the bush line. 8 of them and the circled up around us, we took a bunch of pictures and moved on and they proceeded to give us an escort up the mountain, alternating between hopping and short flights, they took us from the bush line to nearly the top of the meadow.
We got some good views the higher we got until we hit the clouds and the views were mostly restricted to a couple hundred metres. The picture below is just before we lost most of the scenic views. Short range visibility remained surprisingly good as there was no point that we couldn't see the next 4 or 5 markers going up and at least 6 or 7 on the way back down. We stopped a few times to reevaluate whether it was a wise choice or not: the wind was blowing, it was quite cold, the clouds may move in and moor us in fog, &c. We were about to turn back and all the sudden most of the clouds in the near vicinity blew away and we could see all the way down to the valley floor so we decided to move on.
Once we were on the ridge, the snow started accumulating and the fog got thicker, but we could still see markers both up and down the ridge so we pressed on. This picture is in the middle of the ridge somewhere and as you can see the visibility was pretty good, even with a camera which always makes those kind of things look worse.
We had started hiking at 0950 and summited at 1200. It was cold and windy and snowy and slippery and we didn't dally long, a couple pictures, a quick pee off the top and we were on our way. We did pause long enough to vocalize both of our thoughts that tyguy should have been there with us.
Coming back down is always worse than going up, and that is where most of the accidents always happen. We were accident free which was good, especially on the ridge where a slip would have resulted in a harrowing fall off the side of one of two cliffs. The clouds had moved in lower while we were on top and there was some snow on the path in the meadow that hadn't been there earlier which made the path muddy as it melted underfoot. We stopped to eat a sandwhich just above the meadow and the keas met us again shortly after we continued on and gave us another escort down through their territiory, which ended with a fly-by: all 8 of them swooping low over our heads and landing in unison just before we entered the bush. I hope to see keas again before I leave New Zealand as they are the most amazing birds. This picture was taken as we were getting out of the clouds, just before the keas met us.
the rest of the hike was uneventful, and as the last leg of hike like that generally go, it seemed to take forever. We were down where it was warmer and started peeling off layers of clothing (I had: underarmor, a t shirt, a solomon vest, a polar fleece, a long sleeved shirt, a hoody and a rain/wind shell, gloves, and my possum hair hat and I was still a little chilly).
Once we were down it was straight to Arthurs for a hot chocolate and then we headed back towards Christchurch as Kiefts plane left at 0600 the next morning. We stopped along the way at Castle hill so I could climb, but it was still a bit wet, and there must have been about a million sheep in the area the day before, I couldn't climb much and the car stunk for the rest of the trip.
Castle hill in itself was amazing and I hope to go back with a guidebook when it is not so wet someday. There were huge boulder fields that had 500 boulders a peice scattered around the valley. It is a climber's dream.
We arrived in Christchurch with enough time to buy a kebab and drink some tui's before heading in to watch Indiana Jones. Normally I would balk at watching a movie on a trip like this but it was a fitting end to the weekend and neither of us were up for much else. We found the airport afterwards and then a campsite. Then we decided that since it was still early we would drive down to the ocean and look around. We found a huge peir, bigger than anything they could possibly use - we figure it was a symbolic dominance struggle - "we have a bigger peir than you" and all that jazz. Then we headed back and hit the hay.
The next morning we awoke and I took him to the airport and dropped him off at 0445. Then as I didn't want to go back to sleep and I still had half a tank of petrol I drove around for a while to see what I could find. Not much is the verdict on that one, I found the university of canterbury and walked around in it for a while at 0530 in the morning - there wasn't much going on. Then I headed to town to cook food and clean the van to turn it back in. I cooked on the side of the road which was really sketchy, but whatever, and turned the van in at 0830. I needed to be at the airport at 1000 so I had plenty of time to kill, I walked around the square and toured the cathedral and did some window shopping then got on the bus and headed back to auckland.
A final post script: I arrived in auckland at 12:20 and took the airbus back to uni, I arrived with just enough time to drop my stuff off at parnell and get to class. I had gone 4 days without a shower and at least 3 without a change of clothes, but I sure as hell got to class. They were two good lectures too.
Caught the airbus Thursday morning, flight out at 1100 went from Auckland to Wellington to Christchurch. Arrived just before Kieft and met him outside the international gate. Took the bus into town and walked through the main square to find the wicked van rental company. It was cloudy and raining which was kinda a bummer. The first thing Tyler noticed as we got off the bus was a sign on the top of a building: "IBM". We got some pictures, him with his sign and me in front of the cathedral (god did not smite me down from on high so I figure it must have been ok) and then we continued on to the rental place.
We got our van, 'Foul Notions' with a quote on the back saying: "A wise man covers his arse, a smart man leaves his pants on." It had a kitchen in the back, with a pump sink and a counter, there was a gas stove, some chairs and a table inside that folded down into a bed. It was a great van all the way around. By this point it was too late to drive anywhere that night so we went to the shopping center and stocked up on food and gas. Once we were provisioned we sat to make some plans as we had no idea what the weekend would entail. While we were shopping a lady decided to give us some advice. From everything she told us, I realized the wisdom in two of the lines written by Steinbeck: "A man who seeing his mother starving to death on a path kicks her in the stomach to clear the way, will cheerfully devote several hours of his time to giving wrong directions to a total stranger" and "The impulse of the American woman to geld her husband and castrate her sons is very strong." She wasn't American and we weren't her sons but if she wasn't trying to castrate us I don't know what she was doing. Tyler, being less experienced and thus more susceptible to such advice was quite strongly affected by her warnings, and I was getting worried that he would call the trip off. To his credit he endeavored to see it through, and I am ashamed for ever doubting him.
Her advice is, for the most part, lost to my recollection. This may be due to the fact that it extended over the better part of an hour. I recall only three points she made: first that the weather in Arthur's Pass is horrible, snowing, and most likely impassable, second that Christchurch is a bad city - we should not trust anyone there as they will most likely add drugs to our drinks and commit other such unthinkable atrocities, and third that it would be best if we headed north to spend the weekend at the hot springs. Her advice was as long and glorious as it was wrong. We ended up doing almost the exact opposite of what she told us.
We spent Thursday night, the first night, in Christchurch. We found a car park in the botanical gardens and left the van there and headed into town. As we were leaving we saw some guys breaking into a van parked near ours, and with the fell advice ringing in our ears we decided to walk the away from the city for a couple minutes, then double back past our van to make sure that ours wasn't next. We turned around a bit early as they were still working on the original one when we passed again, so we stood in the shadow of a tree and watched for a while. We were getting pretty nervous about the situation. The tension we felt was diffused quite effectively when a locksmith van drove up.
Our night started at the Bog, which was interesting as I was in the bog in Auckland the day before. From there we walked around, found a souvenir shop, a billiards hall and a couple other pubs, until we arrived at the Grumpy Mole Saloon. It was dry, had a fire, and 3$ beers and we were set for the evening. Presently a kiwi approached us, 18 or 19 years old, scrawny as hell and pissed as. He introduced himself to us as Karl and proceeded to tell us about a number of his nefarious and surprisingly improbable sexual escapades. They were quite interesting and kept the two of us entertained for a while. We eventually decided that he was going to show us the club that was most hopping that night, which happened to be across the street (Christchurch isn't all that big). The bouncer apparently knew of him and wouldn't let him in so we parted ways and Tyler and I went into the club. It was still a bit early and no one was there so we promptly left to try and find our wayward friend, but it was of no avail. We went back to the Grumpy Mole and ended up at the club later that night. The club itself seemed fine to me, although I was quite intoxicated at that point, but Kieft said that it seemed really sketchy, although he admitted that the lady's dire warning was still on his mind. We ended the night with a nice walk back in the rain and once Tyler was able to de-stress a little bit (yeah - that's what they're calling it these days) we hit the sack. It was a good night, but I had one hell of a hangover the next day.
The next morning we started out toward Arthur's Pass after buying myself a merino and possum fur hat - which was quite expensive, but well worth it. Though it was still cloudy, the drive was beautiful, the leaves were changing colours, and the road was empty. We arrived at Castle Hill and stopped for some pictures. Some of the pine trees there were bright orange, while others were the standard green. I couldn't decide if they have some species of deciduous pines or if some of the trees were infected with something, but it was quite an interesting juxtaposition.
We didn't stop to climb then as it was a bit wet and we wanted to get to the pass to do a tramp before it got dark. An hour later we arrived at a huge sign welcoming us to Arthur's pass national park, so we got some pics and continued on our way.
The weather didn't improve in the pass at all, but we were able to get some good views and pictures including this one of Mt Rolleston, which I am very proud of.
she will stand foreverelegant in mystery
a brief passing for one
to meet and learn and know
her ephemeral eternity
(This poem was an addition on 11 Nov 2008. I found it in the archives of my computer. I believe that I wrote is as it references this picture. As I don't often write poetry, I think it a good idea to include it here lest it be lost.)
We stopped in at the visitors center at a tiny town named for the pass and checked the weather, hoping it would be clear enough to hike avalanche peak in the morning. We were told that the weather is so variable that we would need to check again in the morning and we were given some other tramp ideas to fill the rest of the day. We hiked to Devils Punchbowl Falls, a short easy hike to a fairly impressive 130m falls, and then we went up to the Temple Basin Track which turned out to be a ski hill. We have no idea how one is supposed to get from the car park to the base of the lift, it took us over an hour. We continued up a scree field under the lift line and were met by a group of Keas.
The kea is related to the parrot, the main differences being that keas are green with red under their wings and they live in alpine areas instead of the tropics. They are very smart and quite cheeky. They love to pull apart anything they can get ahold of, including cameras and cars, and they have been known to bite peoples legs to startle us into dropping food that they can then steal. We had no food and kept a tight hold on our cameras, and the keas kept their distance. The first one swooped over us and landed less than a metre from where we were walking and just sat there showing off for us to take pictures of.
We got to the top of the ski hill and screed back down - a pastime I find a great amount of guilty pleasure in, as it is so much fun and yet it erodes the mountain so bad. The return trip took less than half the time going up did.
We were both quite cold by the end of the tramp, as neither of us had gloves and it was quite cold, not rainy but definitely cold. We went to a pub called Arthur's and had a hot chocolate and some dinner and hung out for the rest of the evening, then we retired to our van, camped and slept. We were the only ones in the whole town of Arthur's Pass who didn't live there, and there can't be more than 50 or so people living there - the barmaid at Arthur's was the same all three days as was the lady working at the visitors center.
The next morning we got up, made shake and bake pancakes and were told that the weather was too cloudy and snowy to go up avalanche peak. We were advised that the west coast might have better weather and it should be fun to go and see the glaciers. We decided that this was a good idea and headed west.
There was a large bridge called the viaduct that was built some years ago, as a human structure I didn't find it quite as neat as Tyler did, but it was impressive. There were even some covered parts of the road that diverted water or falling rocks over and away from the cars.
The drive to the Franz Josef Glacier was pretty neat. There is only one road in the area that goes from the east to west coast and we were on it and yet we didn't pass another car but every 10 minutes or so. As soon as we got out of the pass the weather improved to no end. It was suddenly sunny and warm. The drive to the glaciers was scenic but long, and we arrived with enough time to hike each of them before the sun set. We were not actually able to walk on the glaciers as that requires crampons and a tour guide and more money than we wanted to spend, but we were able to get right up to the bottom of each of them. The picture below is the Fox Glacier. Apparently they are both advancing and doing so about 10x faster than any other glacier in the world as their catchments are so wide and the mouths are so narrow. There were signs along the road driving in that pointed out where the leading edge was in 1750 &c. It was quite apparent how far the glacier had retreated since then, and even though it's advancing now, there is a long way to go before it gets anywhere close to what it was then.
We cooked dinner at the town of Franz Josef and started back to camp somewhere closer to Arthur's pass that night. We were running low on petrol but the prices were so high (2.10$/Litre - we paid 1.83$/L in Christchurch with a .10$/L off coupon) we didn't stop to fill up. We finally coasted into a town called Hari Hari and stopped at the petrol station. The price was 2.13$/L but there was nowhere else and we were completely out. The only problem was that the station was closed. We stopped at a pub and asked about where we could get petrol and were told that the station would be open again on Monday. It was Saturday afternoon and our planes left on Monday morning at 6 so that wasn't going to work. The Bartender suggested that if we were to go to the owners house and ask politely, he might be willing to open the station for us. We did and he did, and he only charged us 20$ as an opening fee - good way to make money if you ask me, and I noticed that the alleged "opening fee" didn't go into the cash register with the petrol money either. But at least we weren't stranded in some little nothing of a town the entire weekend.
We were able to get all the way back to Arthur's Pass that night. I drove, which was quite enjoyable, and as there is no restriction against open bottles of beer in the car, Kieft had a few on the way back (there are restrictions against driving under the influence and even if there weren't I would have refrained - a.) I was driving and b.) it feels to weird to drink in a car anyway.) He was in a pretty happy state by the time we got to the Pass and we ended up making the bed and heading to the only open bar in town. That makes it sound like there were lots of bars which is misleading: there were only 2, this one, which was open and Arthur's, which was closed. We had a pint or two and headed back to the van to get an early start on the day and hopefully, if the weather improved, on avalanche peak.
The clouds were present in the morning, but they were higher than the previous days and moving so the DOC lady gave us a tentative 'all's clear' with a warning to watch the weather and turn back if the visibility got low. That's all we needed - we bought some gloves and started out, up the Scott's track to avalanche peak.
We choose Scott's track instead of avalanche peak track as it was allegedly less steep and easier to descend were the weather to turn bad. It was incredibly steep, and we were left wondering what the other track must be like. We felt like we were on Gollum's endless stair, and not even out of the bush yet, there was still a huge alpine meadow and then a ridge to traverse.
The Keas came out once we were above the bush line. 8 of them and the circled up around us, we took a bunch of pictures and moved on and they proceeded to give us an escort up the mountain, alternating between hopping and short flights, they took us from the bush line to nearly the top of the meadow.
We got some good views the higher we got until we hit the clouds and the views were mostly restricted to a couple hundred metres. The picture below is just before we lost most of the scenic views. Short range visibility remained surprisingly good as there was no point that we couldn't see the next 4 or 5 markers going up and at least 6 or 7 on the way back down. We stopped a few times to reevaluate whether it was a wise choice or not: the wind was blowing, it was quite cold, the clouds may move in and moor us in fog, &c. We were about to turn back and all the sudden most of the clouds in the near vicinity blew away and we could see all the way down to the valley floor so we decided to move on.
Once we were on the ridge, the snow started accumulating and the fog got thicker, but we could still see markers both up and down the ridge so we pressed on. This picture is in the middle of the ridge somewhere and as you can see the visibility was pretty good, even with a camera which always makes those kind of things look worse.
We had started hiking at 0950 and summited at 1200. It was cold and windy and snowy and slippery and we didn't dally long, a couple pictures, a quick pee off the top and we were on our way. We did pause long enough to vocalize both of our thoughts that tyguy should have been there with us.
Coming back down is always worse than going up, and that is where most of the accidents always happen. We were accident free which was good, especially on the ridge where a slip would have resulted in a harrowing fall off the side of one of two cliffs. The clouds had moved in lower while we were on top and there was some snow on the path in the meadow that hadn't been there earlier which made the path muddy as it melted underfoot. We stopped to eat a sandwhich just above the meadow and the keas met us again shortly after we continued on and gave us another escort down through their territiory, which ended with a fly-by: all 8 of them swooping low over our heads and landing in unison just before we entered the bush. I hope to see keas again before I leave New Zealand as they are the most amazing birds. This picture was taken as we were getting out of the clouds, just before the keas met us.
the rest of the hike was uneventful, and as the last leg of hike like that generally go, it seemed to take forever. We were down where it was warmer and started peeling off layers of clothing (I had: underarmor, a t shirt, a solomon vest, a polar fleece, a long sleeved shirt, a hoody and a rain/wind shell, gloves, and my possum hair hat and I was still a little chilly).
Once we were down it was straight to Arthurs for a hot chocolate and then we headed back towards Christchurch as Kiefts plane left at 0600 the next morning. We stopped along the way at Castle hill so I could climb, but it was still a bit wet, and there must have been about a million sheep in the area the day before, I couldn't climb much and the car stunk for the rest of the trip.
Castle hill in itself was amazing and I hope to go back with a guidebook when it is not so wet someday. There were huge boulder fields that had 500 boulders a peice scattered around the valley. It is a climber's dream.
We arrived in Christchurch with enough time to buy a kebab and drink some tui's before heading in to watch Indiana Jones. Normally I would balk at watching a movie on a trip like this but it was a fitting end to the weekend and neither of us were up for much else. We found the airport afterwards and then a campsite. Then we decided that since it was still early we would drive down to the ocean and look around. We found a huge peir, bigger than anything they could possibly use - we figure it was a symbolic dominance struggle - "we have a bigger peir than you" and all that jazz. Then we headed back and hit the hay.
The next morning we awoke and I took him to the airport and dropped him off at 0445. Then as I didn't want to go back to sleep and I still had half a tank of petrol I drove around for a while to see what I could find. Not much is the verdict on that one, I found the university of canterbury and walked around in it for a while at 0530 in the morning - there wasn't much going on. Then I headed to town to cook food and clean the van to turn it back in. I cooked on the side of the road which was really sketchy, but whatever, and turned the van in at 0830. I needed to be at the airport at 1000 so I had plenty of time to kill, I walked around the square and toured the cathedral and did some window shopping then got on the bus and headed back to auckland.
A final post script: I arrived in auckland at 12:20 and took the airbus back to uni, I arrived with just enough time to drop my stuff off at parnell and get to class. I had gone 4 days without a shower and at least 3 without a change of clothes, but I sure as hell got to class. They were two good lectures too.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Extreme Edge, The Quarry, and Ti Point.
This weekend was full of climbing. It started at the Extreme Edge on Friday night, what a huge gym. Apparently it used to be an airplane hanger, and it was completely covered with holds and ceilings and rules and whatnot. Case in point: I began to teach till to lead belay so that he could belay me in the future. I was yelled at by three separate people that you are not allowed to teach lead belaying in the gym. This greatly confused me as I find it much safer to teach them in a gym than outside. After I cooled off from that, I had a great time climbing, there were a bunch of routes that were within my ability enough that I didn't feel overtaxed, but that still gave me a challenge. Also I rode over with a guy by the name of Crispin, who reminded me completely of Chris Nolan, so I had a great evening reminiscing about the glory days. I have to admit it made me quite homesick for the ROC.
The next day was pretty laid back, didn't do much, was planning on going to Ti point early with some of the climbers but they bailed. Ended up calling Bogdan and going to the quarry with him, set the top rope on the far crack and abseiled down, it was pretty sweet, Bogdan had a lot of fun. He's from eastern Europe somewhere, I can't remember exactly - Czech republic maybe, and I met him at the gym a couple weeks ago and taught him to lead. We climbed the crack for a while and then headed home as it was getting dark.
Sunday morning at 5 I got up and headed to uni to go to Ti Point with josh, keatin, and danielle. We left very early, and I slept most of the drive. Apparently we stopped for gas at one point and josh bought us all coffee, now I don't actually like coffee, but I felt that it would be poor form to refuse and as it had been a couple years since I last tried it, I thought that maybe it would be better this time around. It wasn't better. It was actually still pretty gross. But I drank it and thanked him and was on a caffeine high for the rest of the morning. Ti Point is a little bit south of Goat island and right on the coast. The holds were mostly sloppers and the rock was sandy so there wasn't much to hold onto. 
I started a lead in the morning and very quickly decided that it wasn't worth killing myself on so I quit. Tony started to to finish it for me and ended up clipping weird and taking a fall. He swung about 2 meters and smashed into the side of the cliff. It was lucky that he had a helmet otherwise he would probably have a concussion, as it was he got out with a sore tailbone and a bunch of scrapes. He sat out the rest of the day. All in all, I found the climbing there to be very tough, and quite scary. Even as a belayer it was scary as they were on a heap of jagged rocks just above the high tide mark and never had a level place to stand. Tony was the only fall, and when we got back the club passed some new safety restrictions about wearing helmets and whatnot. I did climb a couple routes but they were all on top rope and very few of them were clean. An interesting place to climb, but not one that I will go back to.
The next day was pretty laid back, didn't do much, was planning on going to Ti point early with some of the climbers but they bailed. Ended up calling Bogdan and going to the quarry with him, set the top rope on the far crack and abseiled down, it was pretty sweet, Bogdan had a lot of fun. He's from eastern Europe somewhere, I can't remember exactly - Czech republic maybe, and I met him at the gym a couple weeks ago and taught him to lead. We climbed the crack for a while and then headed home as it was getting dark.
Sunday morning at 5 I got up and headed to uni to go to Ti Point with josh, keatin, and danielle. We left very early, and I slept most of the drive. Apparently we stopped for gas at one point and josh bought us all coffee, now I don't actually like coffee, but I felt that it would be poor form to refuse and as it had been a couple years since I last tried it, I thought that maybe it would be better this time around. It wasn't better. It was actually still pretty gross. But I drank it and thanked him and was on a caffeine high for the rest of the morning. Ti Point is a little bit south of Goat island and right on the coast. The holds were mostly sloppers and the rock was sandy so there wasn't much to hold onto. 
I started a lead in the morning and very quickly decided that it wasn't worth killing myself on so I quit. Tony started to to finish it for me and ended up clipping weird and taking a fall. He swung about 2 meters and smashed into the side of the cliff. It was lucky that he had a helmet otherwise he would probably have a concussion, as it was he got out with a sore tailbone and a bunch of scrapes. He sat out the rest of the day. All in all, I found the climbing there to be very tough, and quite scary. Even as a belayer it was scary as they were on a heap of jagged rocks just above the high tide mark and never had a level place to stand. Tony was the only fall, and when we got back the club passed some new safety restrictions about wearing helmets and whatnot. I did climb a couple routes but they were all on top rope and very few of them were clean. An interesting place to climb, but not one that I will go back to.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Froggat Take II
Supposed to leave Friday night but it was stormy and rainy and no one wanted to pitch a tent in the rain. Katie picked me up at 8:30 and we arrived at the crag at 12:00 - it was only a 2 hour drive, but the kiwis are amazing at killing time, we stopped for food before we even left, then gas half way, and then some more food once we got closer. It turned out for the best though, as no one started climbing until we got there anyway. There was about 6 hours to climb that day and I did one top rope and a whole bunch of leads. It was a great day. Headed to the campsite and played some cards, got on the piss, and watched a candle burn and drip wax all over the bottle it was stuck in - which doesn't sound like much fun, but it's something that I personally am going to start doing more often, cause it was a blast. The next day was more leading on a different crag and then we headed home at 3ish, got back around 6:30 and typed another essay for the following day. A very rewarding weekend all in all.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Jungle Party
Natalie and TJ threw a jungle party on wednesday night. It was a pretty good time, got quite pissed though. I don't think that Parnell was ready for the degree of naked debauchery that I displayed - and I thought I was going pretty consservative compared to most XC parties . . . The picture is of Adam and me and TJ. I was easliy the most naked participant that evening and I got my picture with more random girls than I even knew existed.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
John Walker
This is a story that begins months ago, on the trip to Devonport with Jay and Bron. At the time I was looking for a book: No Bugles, No Drums, about Peter Snell. It is a fairly rare book and I had a hard time finding it in the states. We were walking down a strip mall and there was a rare books store so I thought I would drop in and see if they had it. To my surprise, they did, the owner also brought out two copies of a book called "John Walker: Champion," one of which was autographed. I got No Bugles, No Drums for 40$ and the not signed one for 20$ as I had, at the time, no idea who this guy was. It took me some time to get around to reading this book. When I finished I was very impressed. It turns out that John Walker was, among other things, the first man to break 3:50 in the mile (3:49.4). When I finished the book I got on Wikipedia to see what else I could learn about this guy. The last sentence of the wikipedia article was that John Walker currently owns an equestrian store in Newmarket (I live in Parnell, which is adjacent to Newmarket). I quickly discovered that there is only one equestrian store in Newmarket and that it was actually only .7k from my flat. This I was very excited about. It took me some time to actually get there however. 1st I didn't actually trust the wikipedia, I didn't think that he actually owned this store that I walk by every time I go for groceries and 2nd it said that he was diagnosed with Parkinson's 12 years ago, and I thought that the chance he was still actually running the store was really low.
On the 30 of April at about noon I was going down to the climbing store to buy myself a sling and I decided, completely spur of the moment to stop by and ask if he actually did own the store. I walked in and there was an older lady and a highly attractive younger one pretty close to my age sitting behind the counter. I started out with: "So, I have kind of a random question to ask you: who owns this shop?" The girl pointed at the lady and I got combined "she does/I do" after which followed a slightly confused pause on my part and I slurred out something to the effect of ohiseeiheardsomewherethat
JOHNWALKERdidandijustwantedtoseeifthatwastrue. I'm pretty sure that the only thing intelligible out of the whole thing was his name. The Lady responded, very politely that "John Walker is my husband, he's out in Newmarket right now at the bank, but he's due back shortly, come back later this afternoon and you can meet him if you would like."
Needless to say I decided to go back that afternoon. I left the shop, quite awkwardly upon retrospect, and bought my sling, headed back to my room, dropped everything off, grabbed my copies of 'Once a Runner' and 'John Walker: Champion' and headed back.
When I got back it was just the girl sitting there, she saw me and gave me a "so you're back" and I said, in the most suave and debonair way I could manage at the time: "so I am." She headed off to the back to get him and left me starting at bridles and other horse stuff. She came back in a bit, and informed me that he was on the phone and would be up shortly, so look around and make myself at home. We talked then for a bit, but I don't remember much of what was said which is kinda aggravating cause she was quite hot I do remember telling her that I couldn't really believe that this was about to happen - quite the conversationalist. She did mention that he has Parkinson's and has lost most of the feeling in his face so he won't smile at all and if he seems really serious, that's why.
His wife came back in shortly with a younger girl (who I discovered later was his daughter) and joined our conversation. When I heard footsteps coming behind me I almost didn't want to turn around, I was so nervous. The first thing he said was a curt "John Walker" and held out his hand. I wish I could say that he had a nice firm handshake, but I honestly don't remember, I was so amazed that I was actually shaking John Walkers hand, I have no idea what else was going on. I know I introduced myself - I hope I didn't mumble to bad. For the next half hour the five of us just had a conversation like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
We talked a lot about training, what I was running, what I had run, times I ran, how old I was. The one thing he said was that for my age: if I were to run 70-80mi/week instead of 45-55, I would easily drop a minute and a half off of my 8k time of 26:12. He asked if I get injured much and since not, to definitely increase my mileage. I thought at first he meant that as long as one in not injured, one ought to increase ones mileage, which caused me some confusion as to how one knows at what mileage to stop at, but I think now that he meant me specifically, since I was not getting injured at the low mileage, increase my mileage up to 70-80, not indefinitely. He also said that speed will come with endurance, not the other way around, so I will get more speed just by virtue of the fact that the mileage is higher. While it is wise to run speed workouts, they should take a second priority to the miles, and especially do not over train them: going full pace or all-out on repeat drills will break the body down and not help. He said that his fastest 800 (1:44 - still the second fastest New Zealand 800, second to one that Snell ran) was run on a 110 mile week. He gave me the names of streets to train on, none of which i had heard of before and all of which were Maori names, so they all sounded the same, and I have no idea what they were. The one that I remember was that he said there was a running track about 2 miles down Broadway (I think) just straight down. I ran down there and couldn't find it though. Also he did a lot of training at one tree hill (down the same way) and on the waiatarua track to the west - somewhere I really need to try before I leave here. I mentioned that I try to run twice a day and his responce was that it's good, but make sure that I go at least 10mi in the morning and a 6k at night. I'm not sure if he meant both of them to be miles or both ks, or if he meant to mix the units, but that's what he said. That is a brief synopsis on the main points he said about training.
The discussion didn't end there however: I was grilled on my life - where I was from, how I ended up in New Zealand, how I liked it, what I liked most about it, what I was studying at uni, we even got into American politics: who I thought should be elected (not Clinton) he thinks that McCain will take the election, that America isn't ready for a black president, that Obama will probably be shot if elected, at which his daughter said: Daddy - you can't say that! (she was probably 11 or 12).
We talked for a good half an hour, starting with training, delving into everything else and then coming back to running by the end. As I was leaving he told me to come back whenever I want, and let him know how the training is going. I plan to run a 10k in June, so I think I will go before that, and maybe after wards too.
I shook every one's hands on the way out, and was then for the first time actually introduced to Katie, the hot chick, who I thought originally was one of his daughters, but I don't think so anymore. I was planning on asking him for a signature, but at one point Katie had a transaction form for him to sign, and the Parkinson's was fairly apparent - he signed with a large X, so I decided that it would be poor taste to ask for a signature - maybe I'll get a picture when I go back. Other reflections: Katie did say that this type of thing happens often.
It was quite an experience to meet him. I was shaking for the rest of the day, tried to climb and couldn't, couldn't do much in the way of work either. I'm finally typing this up on Sunday (I met him last Wednesday) and I am getting pretty shaky just remembering it all. I've been going around all week telling people that I just met john walker. I went to a comedy club on Friday night with Nicki and Ian Wallace and their family, I told Ian and he said that he used to run down by one tree hill at the same time that John did, that he would hear footfalls, so soft you could barely hear them coming behind and then John would just float by, they exchanged a 'hi John/hi Ian' and he would be gone. Ian said that watching him run was incredible, he did just float it seemed completely effortless. I wish I could have seen it.
On the 30 of April at about noon I was going down to the climbing store to buy myself a sling and I decided, completely spur of the moment to stop by and ask if he actually did own the store. I walked in and there was an older lady and a highly attractive younger one pretty close to my age sitting behind the counter. I started out with: "So, I have kind of a random question to ask you: who owns this shop?" The girl pointed at the lady and I got combined "she does/I do" after which followed a slightly confused pause on my part and I slurred out something to the effect of ohiseeiheardsomewherethat
JOHNWALKERdidandijustwantedtoseeifthatwastrue. I'm pretty sure that the only thing intelligible out of the whole thing was his name. The Lady responded, very politely that "John Walker is my husband, he's out in Newmarket right now at the bank, but he's due back shortly, come back later this afternoon and you can meet him if you would like."
Needless to say I decided to go back that afternoon. I left the shop, quite awkwardly upon retrospect, and bought my sling, headed back to my room, dropped everything off, grabbed my copies of 'Once a Runner' and 'John Walker: Champion' and headed back.
When I got back it was just the girl sitting there, she saw me and gave me a "so you're back" and I said, in the most suave and debonair way I could manage at the time: "so I am." She headed off to the back to get him and left me starting at bridles and other horse stuff. She came back in a bit, and informed me that he was on the phone and would be up shortly, so look around and make myself at home. We talked then for a bit, but I don't remember much of what was said which is kinda aggravating cause she was quite hot I do remember telling her that I couldn't really believe that this was about to happen - quite the conversationalist. She did mention that he has Parkinson's and has lost most of the feeling in his face so he won't smile at all and if he seems really serious, that's why.
His wife came back in shortly with a younger girl (who I discovered later was his daughter) and joined our conversation. When I heard footsteps coming behind me I almost didn't want to turn around, I was so nervous. The first thing he said was a curt "John Walker" and held out his hand. I wish I could say that he had a nice firm handshake, but I honestly don't remember, I was so amazed that I was actually shaking John Walkers hand, I have no idea what else was going on. I know I introduced myself - I hope I didn't mumble to bad. For the next half hour the five of us just had a conversation like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
We talked a lot about training, what I was running, what I had run, times I ran, how old I was. The one thing he said was that for my age: if I were to run 70-80mi/week instead of 45-55, I would easily drop a minute and a half off of my 8k time of 26:12. He asked if I get injured much and since not, to definitely increase my mileage. I thought at first he meant that as long as one in not injured, one ought to increase ones mileage, which caused me some confusion as to how one knows at what mileage to stop at, but I think now that he meant me specifically, since I was not getting injured at the low mileage, increase my mileage up to 70-80, not indefinitely. He also said that speed will come with endurance, not the other way around, so I will get more speed just by virtue of the fact that the mileage is higher. While it is wise to run speed workouts, they should take a second priority to the miles, and especially do not over train them: going full pace or all-out on repeat drills will break the body down and not help. He said that his fastest 800 (1:44 - still the second fastest New Zealand 800, second to one that Snell ran) was run on a 110 mile week. He gave me the names of streets to train on, none of which i had heard of before and all of which were Maori names, so they all sounded the same, and I have no idea what they were. The one that I remember was that he said there was a running track about 2 miles down Broadway (I think) just straight down. I ran down there and couldn't find it though. Also he did a lot of training at one tree hill (down the same way) and on the waiatarua track to the west - somewhere I really need to try before I leave here. I mentioned that I try to run twice a day and his responce was that it's good, but make sure that I go at least 10mi in the morning and a 6k at night. I'm not sure if he meant both of them to be miles or both ks, or if he meant to mix the units, but that's what he said. That is a brief synopsis on the main points he said about training.
The discussion didn't end there however: I was grilled on my life - where I was from, how I ended up in New Zealand, how I liked it, what I liked most about it, what I was studying at uni, we even got into American politics: who I thought should be elected (not Clinton) he thinks that McCain will take the election, that America isn't ready for a black president, that Obama will probably be shot if elected, at which his daughter said: Daddy - you can't say that! (she was probably 11 or 12).
We talked for a good half an hour, starting with training, delving into everything else and then coming back to running by the end. As I was leaving he told me to come back whenever I want, and let him know how the training is going. I plan to run a 10k in June, so I think I will go before that, and maybe after wards too.
I shook every one's hands on the way out, and was then for the first time actually introduced to Katie, the hot chick, who I thought originally was one of his daughters, but I don't think so anymore. I was planning on asking him for a signature, but at one point Katie had a transaction form for him to sign, and the Parkinson's was fairly apparent - he signed with a large X, so I decided that it would be poor taste to ask for a signature - maybe I'll get a picture when I go back. Other reflections: Katie did say that this type of thing happens often.
It was quite an experience to meet him. I was shaking for the rest of the day, tried to climb and couldn't, couldn't do much in the way of work either. I'm finally typing this up on Sunday (I met him last Wednesday) and I am getting pretty shaky just remembering it all. I've been going around all week telling people that I just met john walker. I went to a comedy club on Friday night with Nicki and Ian Wallace and their family, I told Ian and he said that he used to run down by one tree hill at the same time that John did, that he would hear footfalls, so soft you could barely hear them coming behind and then John would just float by, they exchanged a 'hi John/hi Ian' and he would be gone. Ian said that watching him run was incredible, he did just float it seemed completely effortless. I wish I could have seen it.
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