Eagerly Stouthearted: Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride..

"Buy the ticket, take the ride.. And if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well.. Maybe chalk it off to forced conscious expansion"
- Hunter S Thompson

Sunny the Rocket and I left Queenstown, stopped in St Bathans, and drove through to Dunedin. I had been there the previous weekend, but hadn't had ample time to soak up the city. With our van of three people, sleeping in a neighborhood had been no problem. But when a solo girl tries to do it in the pouring rain, people start knocking earlyyy to make sure you're okay.

I'm fine, thanks, apart from being awake now. Kiwis: too friendly for their own good? I suppose it's all a part of the ride.

Their concern did ~~allow~~ force me to get an early start on the day, and I was able to navigate the entire Otago Peninsula before 2 pm. A stunning drive.. you get to Pilot Beach at the end and realize just how isolated NZ is from the rest of the world. Killer coastlines and creatures - swarms of albatross, puddles of seals, and whispers of penguins - dropped in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. A humbling realization of how small we are.

Back in Dunedin, I walked around the city for nearly five hours just to make sure I had seen and captured it all. The previous weekend, I had opened a bottle just before heading to the rugby game. Realizing I couldn't take it in and I didn't want to scull (chug) anything, I re-capped it and hid it in some bushes. Days later, my beer was still there and tasted just as sweet. Win! That night I enjoyed my brew in a real bed at a Backpackers downtown.

Driving north, I stopped at Moeraki Boulders to see the oddity of spherical rocks strewn about the beach. Dozens of these perfectly round boulders dotted the area. I'm still not convinced whether they are natural or manmade. I took plenty of freakin pictures, tell me what you think?

I ended the day with a familiar face.. Queenstown friend Marek had offered a place to crash with he and his roommates in Christchurch: the "Lion's Den", as it was dubbed. It was nice to be in a real dwelling.. No hostel, no lodge, no car seat. A real apartment with friends and passions and inside jokes. And academics! Sometimes I forget how stimulating the conversations within academia can be. I've downplayed that aspect of my life for many years, but discussions and debates I shared in the Lion's Den have encouraged me to refocus my priorities when I get back home. Funny how 'vacation' can motivate you to work even harder. Stefan Sagmeister explains the concept well in his TED Talk The Power of Time Off.

After an evening right at home as one of the guys, Marek made a delicious breakfast of properly cooked bacon (he is from Canada and totally gets it) to send me on my way. I was looking forward to my drive through Arthur's Pass - the famed mountain road between the East and West coasts of the south island. It was hailing and raining and it was magnificent. Beautiful, eerie bridges with immense amounts of water cascading powerfully over the top. Winding roads allowed me to find out just how Sunny liked to ride. As I would be driving back across the same way, I figured I would save any extra hikes for better weather the following day. A welcome tasting tray at Monteith's Brewery proved to be the only worthwhile reason to visit Greymouth on the West Coast. I ended at a very cute and eclectic Global Backpackers to escape the downpour for the night.

Back across Arthur's Pass. When stopping to get gas (in NZ you never pay for gas until after you've filled up. This honor system would never fly in sketchy, greedy America..) I noticed weather signs that called for snow. As I drove towards the pass, multiple signs told me not to carry on without snow chains for my tires. Warning! Snow! Carry Chains!

First thought? Honey, I'm from Michigan.. I can handle the snow. Second thought? This is a rental car! I don't have chains! How am I supposed to cross without getting stranded in the mountains? Final thought? Shrug. I'm going anyway.

And it was fine. It was snowing and hailing, yes. But it was mid-morning, which meant no accumulation yet, and some warmth had arrived to prevent slippery pavement. It was, however, much too windy for those extra hikes I'd saved.. Guess I'll just have to come back to NZ. Bummer.

Stopped about halfway through for coffee, and as soon as I said hello and was prepared to ask for "a Long Black for Takeaway", the lady immediately asked if I wanted proper drip coffee. Whaat?! Classic, North American drip coffee does not exist in NZ. You can get a Short Black (one shot espresso), a Long Black (two shots espresso with hot water, and my personal fave), or a Flat White (which includes milk, so I've never tested it). Apparently the nice lady's daughter lives in NY and she recognized that someone with my accent might appreciate a taste of home. To be fair, I have grown so accustomed to the bitter espresso that the drip coffee was completely underwhelming. The thought counted for a lot though, and my gratitude added extra flavor to the cup.

There are these funny little mischievous birds called Kea. They are the world's only alpine parrot, mostly olive green with hints of bright orange underneath, and have been dubbed "the clown of the mountains". Marek's roommate Alex had warned me about them.. that they were becoming a bit of a nuisance, but as a protected species there is nothing you can really do. Sure enough, I braved the snow for a moment to snap some photos and suddenly I had a tail. This inquisitive Kea hopped right on top of my car! He poked his head down over the window to check me out, and I assumed he was looking for a way into the vehicle. Scared shitless turned into totally fascinated, as I realized he was intelligent and bored, so he and I played a quick game of hide and seek before I carried on. Cheeky little fellow.

After clearing the main pass, I explored the Castle Hill area that features large limestone boulders used by early Maori as shelters during their migratory days. Can you imagine that ride? People get so excited and worried about travel these days, but what a joke it is compared to real traversing. Life-threatening, eye-opening, culture-forming travel. New Zealand was one of the last places on earth to be inhabited in 1250 AD and it shows in the best and worst ways possible. There are very obviously still hundreds of square miles that no human foot has touched. The terrain too uneven, the bush too thick, the weather too unpredictable. Untouched beauty. God's virgin earth. So little of it remains on our globe, it is worth celebrating. The cons of being so far down the colonization line is that your internet sucks and you are essentially a combination of everyone else's cultures. But the good outweighs the bad. You learn more by being in a place like this than you would in a big, nondescript city. Which might be why I appreciate broken Christchurch and zany Wellington more than anonymous Auckland..

If you're looking to learn, don't fluff the pillows and click the remote. Buy a ticket. Get on the plane. Find the bus. Go exploring! Back in Abel Tasman, our Stray skydivers got phrases written in thick black marker on their forearms, to display during freefall. Much to my mother's disappointment, I wasn't able to jump out of a plane this trip. But if I had, I know what I would have written..

BUY THE TICKET - TAKE THE RIDE.