Road trip, who even knows anymore

I've done a million things and haven't kept up. I've not been wwoofing at all, just hiking and tramping and camping and having mental breakdowns and existential crises and hiding out. Also, I'm not going back to figure it all out and come up with witty things to say. So here are some kind of random pictures. Also the ones missing from my previous post. Cheers,

Pretty lake I camped near in Lake Nelson National Park

What happens when the eels make the signs

A tree giraffe or antelope or something

The same lake from a mountaintop

Whiskey falls...I was disappointed.

I nearly entered a dumbed-down version of Lost

I can't recall, but it's great.

Clearly a moss seal...he was a fun guy.

Creepy cemetery in the woods from an old gold-mining settlement 

"Thy will be done"

This boot rocks!

Creepy, deserted old mine

Pancake Rocks!

More waterfalls

Always

There's a bird in there. I like it.

My new home.

Here are the pictures from my climb of Mt Haast:

Mt Haast from the ground.

Cloudy view from the top.

Gary was there too.

I was tired and gross, a common theme. There were a lot of rocks.

An easy piece of the path down the mountain.

Road trip, south island. It's ferry nice here.

I took a ferry to the south island. My first car ferry! That was OK. It was more entertaining than fun...I'm still not a huge fan of boats. I just haven't really been on that many. There was actually a tiny theatre on board and I thought I might watch the movie they showed. But it turned out to be some boat caught in a storm movie. No thanks.

A van of birdwatchers waiting to board the ferry.

I arrived in the late afternoon and drove an hour or so to a nice, quiet, simple campground.

There are great trees on the south island too!

My second full day, I had booked to go sky diving. Again, I didn't really think about it. It was just something I had meant to do there. It was, of course, amazing. But also strange. I had been skydiving before, back in Wisconsin. I'm glad about that, it had been a much more personable, exciting, and somehow calming, experience.

Here it was a money making machine. I did not meet the person I was going to be strapped to, the person about to be in control of my life, until I was already suited up and waiting to get on a plane, about two minutes before we boarded. He got on the ground, unstrapped one human, went inside to exchange an open parachute for a packed one, came back out, introduced himself, gave me a couple sentences of instruction, then we got on a plane. A little plane packed full of as many people as possible. It was interesting. We talked on the plane: some instruction, some scenery explanation, some small chat. But it was pointless. I was already snuggled up and strapped in between his legs, don't bother.

I enjoyed the flight; it was beautiful. I didn't really register what was happening until they opened the door. Then I started to freak out a bit. We were the last ones out of the  plane, so I was able to panic for a minute or two. Then we jumped.

I did the highest jump they have, 16500 feet. It's something like 75 seconds of freefall. It was unbelievable and amazing and incredible and beautiful and terrifying. I loved every second. And the peaceful float down the remaining way. I wanted it to last forever.

It's then strange to just go about the rest of the day. All of this took place before 11am. How is everything still functioning normally? It's like I didn't just plummet towards the earth. No one even noticed. There isn't even a real difference in me. If that doesn't change things, what does?

The lovely 'you chose to jump out of a plane, clearly nothing is our fault' paperwork.

I gathered myself and bagged up all those errant emotions, feelings, and existential crises, and drove to the northern part of the island. I spent a couple nights camping on the east coast. In Abel Tasman National Park. It was beautiful. I went for a long beach and forest hike. While I was resting in the sand, I saw a penguin. I got up in the middle of the night to pee and saw a shooting star. Things are strange here.

Lost: Alison's kiwi ranger badge

Life's a beach.

Terrible picture of a penguin that I think looks like a dragon.

Always another waterfall.

Then I spent a night on a northern beach (Wharanaki beach). It was super beautiful. And there were seal cubs hanging out there. What!? Nothing is real anymore. In the morning a peacock walked by me while I was drinking my coffee. I may have died jumping out of that plane. Only time will tell...or will it?

Baby seal!!

Gary is loving it.

Who photographs the photographers?

Can someone write this song?

Other things of note:

• Ducks. Not only can they fly, but their body is a boat. You want a piece of my bagel? Get real.
• White people with dreadlocks everywhere. Everywhere.
• All the bug bites. All. The. Bug. Bites. Add the smell of repellent to the grime of sunblock. 
• If a person grows out all their hair at the same length (for example, shaves their head) and does not cut it, does it naturally grow to be a mullet? (I'm asking for a friend)

Road trip, a real treet

So I took off and drove north. I didn't have much of a plan. Just to eventually make it all the way north to Cape Reinga and back down, to camp, and to see all the trees and beautiful things.

I had a fantastic time. It took 11 days and I camped every night except one. I went on a lot of really excellent day hikes. I saw so many amazing trees; I'm a bit obsessed with them. I saw a bunch of beautiful beaches. Too much general greatness has happened for me to share it all, but here are some pictures and a few of my best stories.

A really friendly Asian tourist took this picture. He didn't speak much English, but he really liked Gary.

This giant dog barked a lot and I thought it might eat me.

I love these trees!!

I went to a Bird Recovery Center. It didn't seem like a very visited place; there were no other people. When I arrived, the man working there, Robert, came out to greet me. He told me I could walk around the back and look at the birds they had. I was just looking for a few minutes when Robert came out and fed the birds and told me about them. He was really great and friendly and eager to show off all the birds they were helping. He then said I could go into one of the pens and he would show me something special. I, of course, agreed. Although I did realize it was a bit strange that I walked into a dark cage with a strange man and no one else around. But it turned out great. There were two adorable tiny owls. They looked surprised and stared at me, trying to steal my soul.

I didn't realize this was not what Robert wanted to show me. He then turned around holding a baby kiwi! It was 18 days old. It had been found in an unsafe location and was there for a few weeks before it would be set free. I got to pet it. It was great. He rubbed its ears and it closed its eyes; if it had been a kitten it would have been purring. I also pet Sparkey, the 14 year old, one-legged, kiwi who lives there. 

Robert holding the adorable baby kiwi.

I camped two nights on the Karikari Peninsula. One day I was walking along the northern beach. There were a few people on the beach where I started, but after that I saw no one else for the four hours I was walking. It was really pretty, with dunes one side, then beach, then ocean. I took off my shoes, clipped them to the back of my backpack, and walked with my feet in the water.

After I had walked about an hour, I saw dolphin fins just in front of me. Dolphins! (Dolfins!) I actually jumped for joy. Never have I been happier to be a dork, than when I pulled binoculars out of my bag to see them better (these were little binoculars I bought a year ago before seeing The Nutcracker with my mom. Who am I?). I walked and jogged back down the beach to follow my new dolphin friends for awhile. Then I continued on my merry way.

There were 5, but I take terrible photos.

About half an hour later I realized that my favorite shoes were no longer attached to my bag. I figured they must have broken off in my jump for joy. I was very sad and knew I had sacrificed them to the ocean. But I had walked into the dunes a bit and convinced myself to go back and make sure I hadn't lost them there. I had not.

I decided just to continue my sad march back to camp. After walking a bit further, I noticed something black washed up further ahead. There, straps coated in sand, clearly tossed around by some waves, were my shoes! I still can't believe it. The ocean gave me my shoes back. There may have been secret dolphin magic involved.

On my way driving south from Cape Reigna to the campground on Spirits Bay, I passed a man hitchhiking. Then I felt bad and turned around to pick him up. He was a 20-something Australian who was not doing terribly well. It was his first day hitching rides and he'd been a bit too ambitious. He also lost his shoes and did not have a tent (he must not have had dolphin magic). It seemed mostly normal, but thinking about it afterwards I realized I'm a real weirdo. Here are the main highlights.

When he first got in, he asked if I pick up hitchhikers often. I replied that I didn't really but today I was (I had picked up a group of three that morning). Then I said that if I had gotten a weird vibe, I wouldn't have let him in, but he wasn't going to murder me. Right after I said it, I realized that I still didn't really know that. So I wasn't really paying attention when he said that he was the one concerned about his safety and me possibly being the murderer. So my response was merely a shrug, not reassurance that I was not a murderer.

I had told him that I was camping nearby, but could take him to the turn off of the highway. For some reason I could never properly remember the name of Spirits Bay and told him I was camping at The Bay of Lost Souls. That's what I thought it was at the moment. That's probably where I belong. There was a sign to Spirits Bay at the turn, so he knew I lied about that.

We talked about other random things and were passing through great scenery, rolling hills, and sheep and things. Then we were quiet for a bit and my mind wandered again. I was thinking about the sheep and remembered someone telling me about a sheering competition he had attended. Someone had told him that something like 1 in 500 sheep get a major artery cut and bleed to death (I have not verified this statistic). So I, seemingly out of the blue, shared this story with him. He gave me a strange look and said that was awful. For some reason I replied that it wasn't that awful, you kill and eat sheep anyway. He ignored this and asked why I was thinking any of this. So...yea. He was concerned.

Moral of the story: picking up hitchhikers is safe if you're the crazy one.

Other things of note so far:

• I've decided that pictures cannot convey what I want and have started to take a lot of crazy person video. Which I'm working on compiling, so watch out for that. 
• I am now comfortable driving here.
• Not having a definite destination and reading signs instead using gps leads to a lot of me yelling 'No rules driving!' Then doing some kind of drastic turn.
• Living out of a car makes it difficult to stay or feel clean.
• After sleeping in a tent and constantly being outside, a cold shower is not usually what I want.
• Sometimes nature is great and quiet and peaceful. Sometimes birds are very loud. Sometimes I don't think there will ever be a time that I will not hear waves echoing in my head.
• If I hug a tree and hear a loud noise, I should not assume it's talking to me. I'm probably just squeezing the valve of my camelback. Also, after five times of this happening, I should start remembering it.
• Gravel roads lead to greatness.
• Trees