A Weekend, nay One Day, Trip to the Coromandel

This past weekend was Labour (where'd that 'u' come from?!) Day weekend here in New Zealand. There's actually some interesting history related to it, but essentially it's a free day to commemorate the NZ struggle for an 8-hour work day back in the 1890s. It's celebrated on the fourth Monday in October every year. That kind of makes it like (USA) Thanksgiving - suddenly you're at the end of the month and you get a day off work. Since we are in high spring here, that means this is a holiday weekend as well (like Memorial Day). 

After loading up on junk food and coffee, Rhiannon and I set off early on a Friday morning to beat the traffic induced by Auckland's holiday diaspora. Our destination was a 3 hour drive down and around the Firth of Thames (just a great name, apparently firth = bay) to get to the beautiful Coromandel Peninsula. The Coromandel is known for good hiking (both in the mountains and along the sea), gorgeous beaches, and numerous seaside towns dotted along the coast. 

Winding up and over a lush and low mountain range brought us to Tairua, a small coastal town with a nice brewery, a small art gallery, and a wicked public playground. It also has a sandy and extremely level (can something be extremely level?) tidal flat that you can walk several hundred meters onto when the tide is low:

Sandy island that quickly disappeared as we were shooed away by the climbing tide.

When you're on a shell-infested tidal mud flat, you do hand stands. It is known.

We then continued on to our destination for the weekend, Whitianga (FIT-ee-ayn-gah), stopping along the way for a quick hour long walk at Cathedral Cove. At the time I had no idea, but Wikipedia now tells me this is both where some recent filming occurred:  a scene in The Chronicles of Narnia:  Prince Caspian (that's the only reference to that you'll ever see in my blog) and a portion of a Macklemore video. Anyway, it was a lovely little walk filled with some cows, quails, and nice vistas, ending on a secluded beach:

Get off my beach I live here now.

"Wow this is where Macklemore once stood." 

And when we got back to the parking lot there was this very sad one-footed winged rat atop my car:

Had a real taste for dried cranberries and being pathetic.

And then a few excellent beers at a local brew pub to cap off the day:

Really the best APA I've had so far in NZ. I'm a beer snob apparently

And...that's it. I would love to show you more pictures and regale you with loads of other interesting and fun things we did over the weekend on the Coromandel, but I can't.

Ya see, that night we ate some grilled chicken. I woke up a few hours later feeling like death had crawled deep inside me and was clawing its way out, and I was inconsolably (and often violently) ill for the whole evening. I didn't sleep a bit, and we decided to drive back to Auckland the next day. I spent the rest of my Labour Day weekend convalescing and eating toast and apples. I tell myself it wasn't a total loss because the weather was crap all weekend. Now I'm just steeled to try to visit it again, naturally avoiding grilling chicken at a campsite..

Cheers!

Bonus:

During my recovery, Rhiannon and I made some Halloween-themed decorated cinnamon-ginger sugar cookies. Some of them are really scary, so it's okay to look away now before it's too late. Happy Halloween!

We only had black food coloring, so our palette was white, grey, and black.

Climb for your Life!

I've rock climbed before, which is to say I've gone into an indoor climbing gym and pulled myself up (huffing and puffing - the technique and finger/hand/forearm strength and fancy footwork elude me) a simulated rock wall. It can be intimidating, and takes a little getting used to the heights to which you climb and the belayer in which you put your trust. Otherwise indoor rock climbing is a very safe activity (especially when compared to playing a physical contact sport or even just running on rough terrain). The only injury I've ever suffered occurred when I first stepped onto the gym flooring my first time at the Madison climbing gym, evidently not knowing of its extra squishy consistency. I rolled my ankle. The safety is due mainly to the double and triple checking of ropes, the soft floor you'd fall onto and the relatively low height from which one would fall. Difficulty in climbing a gym rock wall really depends on which holds are on the route, and where they've been bolted.

A few weeks ago, mainly on a Thursday afternoon whim, I agreed to partake in a weekend climbing adventure at Froggat Edge. This free-climb paradise is located a few hours south of Auckland, just as you approach the ethereal world of Sir Peter Jackson's take on J.R.R. Tolkien's Hobbiton. We weren't far from the theatrical version of The Shire, and the landscape helps you understand why Sir Peter chose the locale. Hint:  one of the following images is not from Froggat Edge. Can you pick it out?

I want to see mountains again, mountains Gandalf!

Even the name 'Froggat Edge' has a token Tolkien ring to it.

If you picked this one, congratulations, you are not a robot!

This was my first outdoor climbing experience, ya know, scampering up a sheer rock face attached to some rope threaded through bolts some crazy guys installed at some point. I have to admit I was a little nervy going in. But while camping the night before with a group of very experienced climbers, my anxieties were put to rest. For the safety of everyone involved, they would keep a close eye on me and make sure I didn't do anything with which I wasn't comfortable. It was strange and captivating to see such vertiginous volcanic rock formations jutting up out of a soothingly rolling and verdant landscape.

Ungh. I think I might move here and become a shepherd.

I got my 'climbing' gear on, which consisted of an Under Armour®‎ long sleeved tee, some running pants, and borrowed harness and climbing shoes. I own no climbing gear.

Let's do this? Confidence.

And the climbing began! The rocks were porous, kind of like a pumice stone, but angrier. At one point when reaching for my next hold I felt a painful bite into the tips of my fingers. Just the sharp and brittle rocks defending themselves? I yelled down to my belayer, "I feel like I just grabbed a rusty knife!" I clearly didn't have the tough hands (or mental fortitude) that my companions did. It was an exhausting five hours, and watching others take on the big 'classic' climbs was a treat - some were close to 30 meters (~100 feet) high:

Center:  Renee the Spider comfortably resting halfway through her lead climb, so cool and relaxed. Other adventurous humans pictured for scale.

And Marco, from whom all these pictures come, cleaning the same route.

Because of the local topography, there were actually pretty easy routes walking up the back sides of these formations, so that I could enjoy the view as if I had traversed the difficult climbs myself (though in fact I did successfully climb 3 or 4 of them).

Everything the light touches...

Photo of a guy taking a photo of other guys climbing rocks.

So maybe I didn't partake in all of the difficult and harrowing climbs, nor did I (or do I) have the expertise to go out there and do this on my own. But I did learn how to tie myself in and how to belay, gained some massive forearm muscles, carried gear like a champ,

Actually slipped and fell in front of everyone at some point.

and generally really enjoyed the company, climbing, and landscape. Maybe I'll stab my hands with steak knives every few days to toughen them up before next time.

Cheers!

Endless Sands and Lofty Heights

I've been doing a lot of hiking recently. Perhaps it's in place of other hobbies that have been put on the back burner (mostly soccer; I miss you soccer, we shall be reunited soon). But main reason for the plethora of hikes has to do with two things:  feeling like it is obligatory in this very beautiful country and the unique feelings a hiker experiences during tramps (uh oh, Eric is going to talk about feelings again..). Hiking feels very natural. Yes it involves natural settings, but that's not really what I mean. It's human nature to always be nomadic - running from a predator and chasing prey, finding new and better shelter, or just reaching for some unknown new height or discovery. There's a certain serenity I get when I know my feet are moving underneath me, carrying me up a hill or along a seemingly eternal black sand beach. 

Hiking also provides a sense of accomplishment:

• from a physical perspective. Walking for several hours up and down graded terrain is not just good for development of some huge calf muscles (sick legs, bro), it also is a pretty good cardio workout. I often eat the junkiest food during and after hiking, like the two gas-station donuts during a recent foray to Hunua Falls.
• from a social perspective. Perhaps no better way to bond with others than to plan and execute a long hike in a foreign landscape. Team building!

The hiking crew at Karekare beach - two Americans and two Canadians. Team North America?

And the next weekend at Hunua Falls. Having company for a hike is extremely valuable. Upper right: when did I become so serious? Probably has something to do with being 28 now, ugh.

• and of course in pursuit of that next great view. Pretty self-explanatory, so I'll let the pictures do the talking:

Eden? Maybe not, but Marco claimed it was his 'paradise.' Certainly a good spot for a picnic.

Atop a ridge overlooking a secluded black sand beach. My paradise.

Sometimes these views can inspire creativity. Here is a driftwood beach sculpture I call "Driftwood Beach Sculpture." This is art, get it?

Once more, the endless Karekare beach. 

Hikes are called walks here, so I believe any type of longer walk should be included. Here Rhiannon peers from a pier at the Auckland City wharf on a beautiful birthday Sunday.

These still frames, no matter the technological capability of the camera taking them or the skill of the photographer (sorry Marco), cannot fully capture the moment. Which I guess is why you have to go out, do the hiking, and soak in the views and company for yourself.

Cheers!