Smoko can't last forever, you know...

Well, here it is - my final post in this blog. The coffee cup is almost empty, the gingernuts almost gone and the chit-chat exhausted. It is time to get back to work, as the boss says. Well, almost. I still have 6 days to go, but you get the drift.

For this final instalment, I thought I would share some observations of the last 3 months off. It has been the longest break from my career that I have ever taken, and was sorely needed. But was it worth it? More on that later.

So, my thoughts on our time in North America.... Carmen was intrigued by the things I noticed that she didn't, since they were "normal" for her (being from there). In no particular order then:

1. Toilets. Seems you offend people if you call a spade a spade in the US. Or a toilet a toilet. You have to call it a "restroom" or "bathroom" (despite it not containing a bath or a place to rest).
And, whatever you do, do not use colloquial antipodean phrases like: "Excuse me mate. Where's the dunny?" or even English phrases like "Where's the loo?" Especially when asking someone who has English as their second language, with Spanish being their mother tongue. Because all you will get is a puzzled look and a polite smile. No help at all, really, when your bladder is like a basketball.... If you know the old UK TV show "Fawlty Towers" with John Cleese, just think of Manuel...."Que?"

Then there is the size of the toilet pan. For a country where everything, including the inhabitants, are super-sized (see food, below), why is it that they have the shallowest & lowest toilet bowls in the world?? Seriously. I am warrior-sized, and sometimes have to sit with my feet dangling on some Kiwi toilets, but in the US it was the other way - my knees higher than my hips! Carmen said "its better for your movements to have the knees higher...", but I digress.
If I wasn't careful in my wadding procedure, one end of my toilet paper would drop into the "water" only a few inches below my bum, and subsequently I would get a wet feeling when conducting my wiping procedure.....
Then there was the weak flush. Honestly, sometimes I thought I would get wet feet when the bowl would fill up and up and up, whilst the water barely swirled, with all the product rising to the top and spreading round......good visual eh?.......and finally be sucked down the S-bend at the last minute! At least in NZ the loos have the same power as a hydroelectric dam and you don't see the product of your endeavours quite so closely...........
Right, now you have that mental image, onto the next observation:

2. Food. Glorious food. Man, it is everywhere, and covers the full spectrum from fast, faster, fastest food, to posh restaurants. And most of them you don't even have to leave the luxury of your vehicle to order it! And the portion sizes.....bloody huge! Out of all the meals Carmen and I had, there were only two that we had a serving each (which we regretted later) - all the rest we split between us. This had the added bonus of being cheaper too! Good for people of Scottish descent like me :-)
One fast food chain in particular to me, was the epitome of American largesse - Fatburger. Yes, you read correctly. Fatburger. Although intrigued, I couldn't quite bring myself to go in to one of these joints, just in case I was faced with the question of "do you want normal or low-fat lard on your fat-burger, sir?"
Then there was the chain called In and Out burgers. Despite Carmen assuring me it was a family owned chain that made fresh burgers, I couldn't help wondering if the name reflected the effect on ones digestive system and the time the meal spent therein.(especially in Southern California where you can get Chillies with everything if you want) Dab, dab. Not wipe, wipe....

3. Cars/trucks/fuel. Man, did we see some awesome vehicles over there. Big, really big, & too big. Then there was just bloody ridiculous. When the price of petrol is US$2.69 per gallon (roughly divide by 4 to get 67c per litre!), you can see why everyone seems to have a 3.6L V8 in their 4x4. And a loudener (not a muffler), so they sound like a bloody tank or John Deere tractor when they go past. And then there were the ones jacked up so high we could look under them without looking up! Remuera shopping trolleys have nothing on these beasts!
Having said all that, there were some really nice ones. There was even a pink Jeep for my son Jimmy (hehehe, sorry Son, couldn't resist). Just kidding. Even Carmen reluctantly admitted she liked some of the Jeeps we saw. Damnit!

4. The people. My overwhelming impression of Americans is that of a proud, patriotic, polite and generous people. Almost without exception, everyone we met were kind, welcoming, extremely polite and interested in us. Sure, their country has its faults, but every country does.
I have a similar impression of Canadians, although a much narrower sampling to draw conclusions from. They are just like Americans, but not as tanned :-).  I thoroughly enjoyed meeting everyone.
To all those who put us up and gave up their time to host us - a heart-felt thank you from both of us. Your generosity and friendship added immensely to the joy of our adventure. Cheers!

5. Was it worth it? That's the $72,000 question, eh?
The aim of taking three months off was to have a rest from a busy professional life, to regain work/life balance, and to think about the future. Both individually, and as a couple. Although we had some bumps along the way, overall the journey went smoothly. I for one did manage to forget about work for a while (although it took a while to "come down" off the speeding train), and just enjoy being me, & being us.
Unfortunately, now that I have one week to go, and with my next job still being negotiated, my "work head" is back on and it is hard to remember the feeling of being rested and rejuvenated that I had only a month ago. Bugger.
So, YES, it was worth it. When you are on your death-bed, it is too late to say "I wish I took some time out for myself". Having a life-changing (and saving) experience two and a half years ago changed my perspective on life. I had a new-found appreciation of life and my own mortality, and decided to do things I wouldn't have contemplated prior to my operation. Having someone to share it with was an absolute blessing. I have a saying: Life is for living; not regretting. Carmen says: If not now, then when? Both philosophies are the same, just in different terms.
On our journey, we saw things we want to see again, and missed out on places we definitely want to see on a subsequent visit. So, just like Arnie -"I'll be back".
I had so much fun being a long-haired hippy, that I might just decide to take it up as an occupation some day... (although, I am not sure a well-armed and well-trained hippy would be welcome in the land of fruits and nuts)

The mountains are calling, and I must go.

I hope you have enjoyed reading this blog as much as I have enjoyed sharing it.

Cheers,
James

Back to the land of the long grey, wet clouds...

As Carmen has already blogged about our flight home, I won't rehash it here. It was both good, and sad, to be home after two months away.
We got home on a wet, cold Friday night, and took a Super-Shuttle home. It absolutely poured down that weekend, finding a leak in our roof and making its way down the inside of our bedroom window. Welcome home :-(
I was onto the landlord quick-smart, although the repair process wasn't quite so quick. We did eventually get it fixed, though.
The following week was spent unpacking bags, sorting laundry etc, as Carmen has mentioned. (although, she didn't mention it took her more than a week to unpack her luggage....)
The following Friday we drove up to Taupo to attend the annual Sika Show (a hunting industry expo). I was working the HUNTS booth again, trying to sell a brand instead of a product, which is never as easy. It rained there too......gumboots were the dress of the day.
As the School Holidays started the same weekend, I drove to Roto-vegas to pick up Sam. The weather the following week was average, but we managed to take the quad over to the Wairarapa for some 4x4 therapy.

Sam all tooled-up for a ride..

Old habits die hard, even when out without a rifle. We heard a goat bleating while having lunch, so were trying to locate it here.

At the end of the week, we got on the ferry and headed to Christchurch.
Christmas came early for Son number 1 (Sam had already received his gifts), so all was well in the land of gear-head family.
That Saturday, we went for a day-hunt together in the Canterbury foothills. No animals were sighted, but there was enough sign (tracks, droppings, old rubbings) to keep us interested. That wasn't the point really - it was just to reconnect as a family and enjoy the mountains together. Mission successs!
On the Sunday evening I headed home alone, stopping over-night to stay with a good mate and his wife. It was great to catch up with them. Thanks Nick!

On Monday I headed to the Hanmer Springs area for some transcendental meditation. Well, not really, but I did need some time by myself to begin sorting, reflecting, thinking about, making sense (whatever you want to call it), of the past two months. The weather forecast wasn't too flash, but I headed into the mountains alone - something I am very comfortable doing (and with the bonus of not having carnivores around unlike USA!). I should have taken a fishing rod, as the trout were jumping! One to remember for next time.

Lake-front property. My view from campsite.

Happiness is a simple camp. And coffee. Just starting to rain here.

View from head of lake, looking south. Morning, day two. The weather shit itself later on.

The mountains are calling, and I must go. Happy. Happy. Happy.

 
I took my rifle for a walk, but didn't see any animals worth shooting (plenty of Hares, but my .308 wouldn't leave much meat if I did shoot them). Once again, there were plenty of tracks etc to keep me interested (although still up quite high above the snowline, so not worth the risk). And not seeing a soul for two days helped with the peace and quiet.
As the weather packed in on day three, I pulled out early and headed back to Hanmer to dry out. On the way out that morning, I spied some fresh footprints on the road. Human ones. Running shoes. I knew they had to be from that morning, as it had rained all night and these were sharp and very distinct. I acted like a South African tracker and drove along with my head out the window following the tracks....then lo-and-behold, around the next corner I spied the owner of the tracks - a chap called Warren. I don't pick up hitch-hikers, but this was a fellow traveller who was bent over stuffing his toes back into his thread-bare running shoes......this will be interesting, I thought....
I offered him a lift, which he accepted, since he was heading to Hanmer (about 40kms away) and it would take him all day. Warren was very interesting to talk with. He had begun his journey from Motueka, and was heading to Lake Sumner, then returning by the St James cycleway, back to Blenheim then home. His pack for all this was the size of a large school bag, with a bottle of milk bungeed to the outside. As he was down to his last packet of macaroni, I gave him my remaining freeze-dried cuisine and instant noodles, which he greatly appreciated. We had a great chin-wag on the drive to Hanmer, then I dropped him off at the I-Site (tourist info centre) as requested. I then headed to one of the campgrounds for the night.
The drive back to Picton went smoothly. The weather even cooperated, enabling me to park by a beach just north of Kaikoura, to have my lunch.

My lunchtime view...

I managed to get on an earlier ferry sailing, so I arrived home safe and sound that evening.
The following days were spent cleaning, drying, repacking my kit ready for the next adventure!

Well, I am into my last week of smoko as I write this, so will post one more time to complete the blog.

The Kiwi and the Eagle Have Landed

Well, that's it.  Two months done and dusted.  Where the hell did it go?

Our Qantas flight from Los Angeles to Melbourne was smooth and went quickly.  Both our seats reclined this time, and without another passenger beside us, we had three seats.  Sweet!  Melbourne to Wellington was not as smooth as we approached Wellington.  Lucky us ... strong winds and rain.  I could feel my Northern Hemisphere Summer tan fading as we landed.

Returning to New Zealand with any outdoor gear and any food is always going to slow one down when going through Customs, but we prepared well.  The Customs official seemed quite impressed with James' cleaning job and said our shoes were the cleanest she had ever seen.
 
We've been back in NZ for a few days now.  The jet-lag is almost gone, laundry has been washed, grocery shopping has been done, and we both did a work-out today.  Reflecting on the adventure of the past two months and settling back into whatever normal is has begun ... at least for me.  James, on the other hand, has another month of 'Smoko' left.  So no doubt, he has more to add to this blog as his adventure continues.

When we decided to take this 'Three Month Smoko', we knew we both had different reasons for doing so.  And when we decided to blog about our 'Smoko', we both knew we would have different things to share.  Up to now, James has been doing most of the blogging.  But now that the Northern Hemisphere adventure is over, I'll be sharing some thoughts, reflections and planning tips on the adventure.

Stay tuned ...

- Carmen

The Party is Almost Over

By the time that Monday rolled around, we knew that we had only two more days left in the Northern Hemisphere.  We packed up and prepared to leave the desert for the big smoke.

Is this really all of ours?

Having spent Saturday with family, the last two days of the trip were spent doing last-minute shopping and getting organised for travelling.  Oh yes, and cleaning the outdoor gear in preparation for going through NZ Customs.

The lover of all things gear that he is, James offered to do the clean-up while I went with my sister to get my hair done.  When I returned later that afternoon, I found tramping and running shoes that I think were cleaner than when we bought them.  The bathroom and white hotel towels, on the other hand ... well, they had seen better days.

With mixed feelings, but ready to see home again, we drove through Los Angeles traffic during rush hour to catch the long flights back down-under.

- Carmen

Back to the Desert

After the altitude and solitude of Mammoth lakes, I drove south to Palm Springs. Yes, I drove. The roads were long, wide and smooth. I leave the city driving to Carmen, but grew to love driving the country roads or freeways inter-state. Cruise control rocks!
The last time we were in PS was after we first arrived, if you recall. This time we didnt have the 118F heat to contend with. This time it was a balmy 97F (about 30C). I had booked us into a flash hotel and spa in the desert city of La Quinta. This place had free breakfast, free happy hour each night complete with free snacks, a pool and fitness room.
We took advantage of all of these less the pool. I had gotten a bit too much sun by the pool in Mammoth, so was still glowing in the dark, and in no state to scare the locals. It was still too hot anyway, even at 9pm.
The aim of being here this time was to decompress further after our whistle-stop tour so far. Visiting and staying with friends or family is great, but is taxing. So is checking in and out of hotels every few days. It was also to be close to Carmen's Brother, so we could visit one more time, which we did. It was good to see them again and share a few laughs over a great lunch.
This time round we didn't go up the aerial tramway again due to high winds. This time I picked one of the local canyons to explore. Being on Indian land, they are managed by the local tribe of the Agua Caliente Indians. It was quite something to be out in the desert in 100F heat, yet be cool under the shade of centuries-old palm trees in an oasis! Very cool. Literally.
We spent a few hours there, then headed back to PS. Carmen even managed to get me into another spa for a couples massage. My masseuse must have trained for WWF, because she had some killer moves that made me wince! Not sure if it felt "relaxing", but I can still walk, which is good.

Aahh. Cool!

Outside the canyon

Split rock. In foreground is a traditional "mortar and pestle" rock.

An Indian wikiyup shelter

Inside the wikiyup.

Atop the canyon. Back in the heat.

Some private cabins just outside the park.

Almost sitting on the cactus!

Palm canyon

I wish our road signs were this direct.

Into Mammoth country

After the madness of YOS, we headed to the area of Mammoth Lakes on the eastern Sierras. Getting there necessitated driving up over the Tioga pass at over 9900ft (3300m - oxygen, anyone?), past some lovely little lakes (which we stopped at for lunch), then down the other side to Mammoth.
Think of Tekapo on steroids, mixed with a bit of Queenstown and the Remarks. Pine trees everywhere; crisp, clean air, and not many people outside of the town. Heaven.
This time we were staying in a condo owned by a mate of Carmen's, who gave us a great rate. The place was palatial, to say the least. We loved it.
We went for a couple of hikes round some lakes, as you do in this country when it's not ski-season. This time, however, we did feel the altitude a bit, huffing and puffing a bit more than usual. So we took it easy and didnt do any long hikes this time round. One of the lakes was called "Convict lake". Nothing to do with Aussies..haha. It was so-named after a shootout in the 1800's between three escaped convicts and a pursuing posse. One of the posse was killed and the convicts escaped (later recaptured and hanged). The thing that struck me about this area was just how similar to South Canterbury or parts of Otago it looked. A lot more granite rocks, sure, but still has schist-type rocks, shingle slides etc. Apart from the different trees, it looked like it could hold Tahr, Chamois or Wallabies! However, this was Black Bear country, so we had to be noisy when we walked to avoid scaring one. Our heads were on a swivel as we walked, keeping a wary eye out, just in case....quite a bit different to tramping in NZ, where nothing can eat you, eh?

Lake May campground

Lake May from another angle

Lake Bartlett

TJ lake

TJ lake

Our lunch spot at TJ lake. Carmen looking for fish.

Convict lake from the south

The trail heading up behind the lake

About to enter the John Muir Wilderness

Wanna play "spot the wallaby" above Convict lake?

Pausing to admire the scenery.

Yogi bear and BooBoo go exploring...

After chilling in Tahoe, we headed further south to Yosemite National Park. We actually stayed in a nearby town called Mariposa, which had quaint shops dating back to the cowboy days.
So each day we would drive into YOS, park up and go for a walk. The valley floor is so popular (due mainly to the views of the local icons like "El Capitan" (a BF granite cliff), "half-dome"(a BF bald granite rock/dome that lost half of itself way back when, and you can only climb with the aid of chains/ropes/ladders). There are lovely grassy meadows with some deer, also in the valley. Mostly full of tourists taking selfies, but some deer...we saw one.
Speaking of deer, we headed up a track one of the days, and no more than 50m from the road, within sound of tourism chaos, smells of diesel fumes from tour buses, we came across a Black-tail doe, grazing away next to the track. Not fazed in the slightest.
Anyway, a short, sharp 1.3 mile climb up to a vantage point not usually visited, rewarded us with stunning views of the valley floor, but in peace and quiet! Another couple graciously took our piccy, and we returned the favour (or is that favor, since we are in the US?)
Back down in the valley, we still battled with traffic jams, throngs of people and a busy souvenir shop, but muddled through somehow. I even managed to keep my cool and not shout at anyone who slowed us down....
Anyway, enough babbling, here are some photos of country that can only be described as BIG....

BooBoo about to enter the park

Me and John Muir looking at the grandeur

View up one valley on one walk we did

Yay! Made it up!

Time for a pic-a-nic, BooBoo?

El Cap on the left; half-dome centre rear.

Bambi by the track. 3m away and not worried at all.

California dreamin'.....part two

The Pacific coast was swapped for the Sierra Nevada mountains, sea-level for altitude. I love the beach, but love the mountains more. As John Muir the explorer said: "the mountains are calling, and I must go". Its the same for me.
Our next stop was the alpine lake town of South Lake Tahoe. This lake is the second deepest (after Crater lake), and is interesting in that it straddles the state line between California and Nevada. As gambling is illegal in CA unless on an Indian reservation, there are no casino's in Tahoe on the CA side, but as soon as you cross the state line, its like mini-Vegas.
Our hotel was right on the beach, complete with hammocks under the pines, which we used a couple of times. The food, as usual, was plentiful and good.

Hammock on the beach!

Ta-dah!

SUPing at sunset at Tahoe.

While at Tahoe, we drove round to Emerald bay. This is the site of a Viking-inspired castle complete with a tea-house on its own island. It was too windy to hire a SUP, so we hired a double kayak and headed out to the island. We could have landed where everyone else did, but that isnt my style....so we headed round to the steep side of the rock, went ashore there, and climbed up the hard way. Carmen did really well, considering I pushed her out of her comfort zone somewhat. We made it safely to the top and were rewarded with stunning views.

Viking castle

Looking out to the island from the castle

"who are the Cockleshell heroes, again?"

View from within the tea-house, looking west towards main part of Lake Tahoe.

Made it!

View of island from lake side.

After returning the kayaks, we had a bite to eat, then headed out on the Rubicon trail along the lake edge. We didnt go far, as we found a private sandy beach and had a quick dip to cool off. Bracing!

Once a tree-hugger, always a tree-hugger....

Now I know where Jeep get their Rubicon model name from...?

Oh oh! Keep the snacks hidden, honey!

Our own private beach...