“So, do you have any medical conditions?” asks Dan as he draws the bright yellow cowl over my head.
“No” I hastily reply, the whole gravity of the situation catching up with me. Normally I wouldn’t mind being blinded for a brief spell, but when you’re about to free fall for 60 metres and then swing for 200 metres over a canyon full of jagged rock and river, not knowing where you’re going can induce a little panic, to say the least.
While Doug and Dan, my jump masters, are clearly professionals, they’re not afraid to take cruel liberties in their position as they lead me down the ramp. They grab my shoulders: “Whoa, don’t fall over! Don’t go yet!”
“Awww, I messed up, if it goes wrong, blame me!”
I’m doing the “birthday gimp.” A special jump where I’m suspended head first over the canyon, the cowl over my head, disorienting me and making breathing a tad difficult; it’s just a pale yellow haze and the slightly muffled sound of Dan’s instructions. After a bit of suspense, I think I’m about to tumble, but I feel a quick tug- the cowl comes off, and I’m staring at an upside down Dan on the ledge.
“Hello.” hey says.
“Hi?” Clink.
And down I go, 60 metres head first, my arms flailing like I’m Micheal Phelps in the 100m freestyle, my body unable to utter any sound short of an escalating “Whoooaaaa” until the river pulls up in front of me, curving like a pendulum, up to the top of the swing where laughter can never be resisted. The laughter of survival.
This was my second jump. The first, the “pin drop”, was a simple folding of the arms and a jump off the ledge. Not as easy as it sounds. Getting suspended off the harness and released is one thing; but to take action and be the mover yourself, to initiate what your body judges to be fatal, that is the true test of strength.
It was a birthday to remember.
“No” I hastily reply, the whole gravity of the situation catching up with me. Normally I wouldn’t mind being blinded for a brief spell, but when you’re about to free fall for 60 metres and then swing for 200 metres over a canyon full of jagged rock and river, not knowing where you’re going can induce a little panic, to say the least.
While Doug and Dan, my jump masters, are clearly professionals, they’re not afraid to take cruel liberties in their position as they lead me down the ramp. They grab my shoulders: “Whoa, don’t fall over! Don’t go yet!”
“Awww, I messed up, if it goes wrong, blame me!”
I’m doing the “birthday gimp.” A special jump where I’m suspended head first over the canyon, the cowl over my head, disorienting me and making breathing a tad difficult; it’s just a pale yellow haze and the slightly muffled sound of Dan’s instructions. After a bit of suspense, I think I’m about to tumble, but I feel a quick tug- the cowl comes off, and I’m staring at an upside down Dan on the ledge.
“Hello.” hey says.
“Hi?” Clink.
And down I go, 60 metres head first, my arms flailing like I’m Micheal Phelps in the 100m freestyle, my body unable to utter any sound short of an escalating “Whoooaaaa” until the river pulls up in front of me, curving like a pendulum, up to the top of the swing where laughter can never be resisted. The laughter of survival.
This was my second jump. The first, the “pin drop”, was a simple folding of the arms and a jump off the ledge. Not as easy as it sounds. Getting suspended off the harness and released is one thing; but to take action and be the mover yourself, to initiate what your body judges to be fatal, that is the true test of strength.
It was a birthday to remember.
Queenstown is home of the bunny, the jet boat, the adventure sport. Tucked beside the crystal clear Lake Wakatipu and shadowed by the often snow-capped Remarkable Mountains. The town is a bevy of activity- para-sailors and parachutes can be seen floating down in the sky at any time- tumbling like confetti. The shuttles and busses whizz by, plastered with decals of windswept young people in the height of their own adrenaline rush. The town centre is constantly ripe with the aroma of grilled beef- the money machine that is Fergburger churning out sinful burgers 22 hours a day, and a 30 minute queue always chomping at the bit to get their fix.
Bars jam packed with rowdy backpackers, hoping around to pseudo-country bars or underground music clubs (complete with uber-awesome heavy metal) are open till four am.
Queenstown was supposed to be a respite from camping. It was anything but. But damn was it a fun town! We had to get out before we went broke in a week.
Luckily, New Zealand’s scenery, it’s powerful, natural beauty, finds its heart just southwest of Queenstown. The Fiordland National Park, with it’s dozen or so Fiords providing incredibly humbling landscapes- and us so very lucky to have a few clear, sunny days to witness the park in all it’s glory.
Bars jam packed with rowdy backpackers, hoping around to pseudo-country bars or underground music clubs (complete with uber-awesome heavy metal) are open till four am.
Queenstown was supposed to be a respite from camping. It was anything but. But damn was it a fun town! We had to get out before we went broke in a week.
Luckily, New Zealand’s scenery, it’s powerful, natural beauty, finds its heart just southwest of Queenstown. The Fiordland National Park, with it’s dozen or so Fiords providing incredibly humbling landscapes- and us so very lucky to have a few clear, sunny days to witness the park in all it’s glory.
The Fiords are formed by glaciers. The combination of deep water, immensely high peaks and the countless rainbow-streaked waterfalls, the small tuffs of cloud clinging to the fiords like a withered beard- the land was alive. We learned that the final part of Milford sound was formed by glaciers about 15 to 75 thousand years ago, or in geological terms, just yesterday. The land is so young and so unbelievably complex, and every curve in the road there and back produced awe-inspiring views.
After trekking through the Fiordlands, our two German friends Max and Julia accompanied us on one of New Zealand’s “Great Walks” - the Kepler track. It’s a 3-4 day, 60km hike through rainforest, alpine forest, and mountains, and was one of our greatest challenges to date. We had to lug our tents, clothing, food all with us- rationing food and keeping our packs light being our biggest challenge. We did the trek in 3 days- one day quicker than planned. We weren’t keen on camping after the first night- we learned later that temperatures dropped to about 2 or 3 degrees C at night- and we almost froze. After night two in the alpine hut, we were keen on getting back to a bed.
Day 2, though the most difficult, was incredible- we spent the entire day above the treelike. The mountains in the distance were snow-capped, a sapphire-blue lake lingering deep down the mountainside.
The mountains were tufted with plush yellow grasses and shrubs, working ever upwards to rock-splattered peaks. In the distance, I could see the kepler track carved through the dense bush of the mountain- a clean cut, samurai-like, as though the gentlest of nudge would have the top of the mountain slide off like a severed head.
The views, were panoramic. Overwhelming. You never knew which way to look. And even when you rested, you had to make sure the mischievous Kea Parrots didn’t steal your sneakers.
Day 2, though the most difficult, was incredible- we spent the entire day above the treelike. The mountains in the distance were snow-capped, a sapphire-blue lake lingering deep down the mountainside.
The mountains were tufted with plush yellow grasses and shrubs, working ever upwards to rock-splattered peaks. In the distance, I could see the kepler track carved through the dense bush of the mountain- a clean cut, samurai-like, as though the gentlest of nudge would have the top of the mountain slide off like a severed head.
The views, were panoramic. Overwhelming. You never knew which way to look. And even when you rested, you had to make sure the mischievous Kea Parrots didn’t steal your sneakers.
It was a good long week through one of New Zealand’s most treasured and unique landscapes. We’ve been blessed with a clear and warm tour of the Fiordland. But now it’s time to round the southland and continue around back north up the east coast. We don’t know where we’re sleeping tonight. But that’s the beauty of it. We’ve come to explore everything this country can offer and lose ourselves in it, and take each challenge as it comes our way. Make sure you check out the full Fiordland and Kepler Track albums- they're our favourites thus far.
Kia Ora!
-K&B