Fox Glacier, New Zealand

    We took a 10 hour bus ride from Nelson to Fox, New Zealand.  Nelson was another beautiful town and the hostel that we stayed at was awesome – free breakfast and free soup and bread at 6 PM.  Both of these meals were pretty spartan, but you wouldn’t think so with the gaggle of international riffraff coming out of the woodwork at quarter till 6.  I rented a bike for the day and got to grab some coffee at a café, read, and go check out the town book store (books are very expensive here, like everything else). 

    Fox, however, is a very small resource town on the west coast.  The resource here is the Fox Glacier, which is actually receding/depleting just as fast as most resources.  Dustin and I knew that if we wanted to walk on and explore the glacier, we could need to go with a guided tour, which is expensive.  We walked into Fox Glacier Guides with a full day tour in mind, and walked out with a full day ice climbing tour booked instead.  That was the best decision we’ve made this whole trip.

    Words cannot describe how massive and beautiful this glacier is; the pictures do nothing to capture the deep blue color, small streams that flow in and out of the surface, or juxtaposition of a rainforest in the background; even standing on the glacier, I couldn’t comprehend the raw power that is rolling down the mountain at 2 meters a day.  Really though.  To go ice climbing on it was amazing.  Dustin and I were paired up with an Israeli guy who just came off his 3 year military term as a medic, and a 55 year old Aussie who used to be a stud rock climber.  Our guide, Jono the Tasmanian alpine badass, first took us to a small ramp to teach us the skills we needed, then set ice screw anchors for us to climb a 45 foot wall.  After a few climbs and some lunch, Jono led us around the glacier, then scoped out this beauty:

    He turned to us, said, “alright then,” and started setting up some anchors.  One by one, Jono lowered the four of us into a 80 foot crevasse.  I tied into the rope, Jono said, “don’t untie this one, mate,” and down I went.  The plan was to hit the bottom and belay each other from there, but as I looked down, the “bottom” was what looked like an infinite crack that simply got too narrow for us to go.  I got down to a small (1 foot across) bridge between the two walls, put a foot into the wall and my back into the one behind me.  We were dying laughing, just thinking about where we were and what we were doing.  It had started raining right as we got into the crevasse, which pretty much meant that a waterfall was falling on us as we climbed up. 

    I’ve been ice climbing on a glacier in New Zealand.  Pop pop.  One of the coolest things I've ever done.

    I’ve noticed some strange things about New Zealand, the first being that they don’t refrigerate their eggs.  Even weirder than that is the sheer number of Germans here.  When I was in Fiji, a German guy told me that NZ was the “German playground,” and he’s right.  There are also tons of English and Canadians, but very few Americans.  It’s kind of embarrassing that most of these non-Americans know more about American, and international, politics than I do.  I mean, I don’t really care that they know more than me but it’s kind of frustrating to come off as the typical ignorant American.  They think I’m an idiot for not worrying about every little problem, like the Republican Primary or the strength of the American dollar.  Maybe they should be worrying that the neutrino might be faster than the speed of light or that nobody really knows how a gecko’s feet stick to everything.  Whatever, instead of voicing any of these thoughts, I stuck to Solomon’s words: “even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues.” 

    After my Valentine’s day McDonalds’s romance, Dustin and I spent another two days in Wellington: first touring the town gardens, national museum, and Parliament, then taking a day off to get over a cold I picked up somewhere in Turangi.  At Parliament, I wondered how hard it would be to get become one of the 200+ MPs in a country with a population slightly larger than Houston’s.  Wellington is a very cool town with lots of hills, a beautiful bay, and just a good feel to it.  Our hostel was a cool place too – we met a Kiwi guy who was in training to become a skyscraper window washer and a Canadian girl who was just traveling and got to spend a lot of time with both of them. 

    To get to the south island of New Zealand, we had to take the 4 hour ferry ride to Picton.  I was excited to see that they had a big screen and seats set up for a movie, but more than disappointed to see Mr. Bean’s face in the first 30 seconds of the film.  We immediately took a bus from Picton to Nelson, where we immediately found out that we should have taken the bus to Marahau, the closest city to Abel Tasman National Park.  The intercity buses going to Marahau were done for the day, so we took a local bus and then had to hitch hike with three different cars to get there.  We had a small scare with all the hostels being booked, but finally found a place about 2 km out of town. 

    We took a water taxi to Bark Bay early the next morning and then hiked at least 20 km back to town, visiting a frigid river pool along the way.  The trail was beautiful and reminded me of the Greenbelt in Austin, except with tons more green and a ridiculously blue ocean.  The tide there made for a 3.5 meter change in sea level, revealing huge mud and sand flats with billions of shells and the trail cutting straight through them.  The trail went right through a small town of about 20 houses right on the coast – privately owned land that never got bought and incorporated into the park by the government.  What a cool place to live. 

Split Apple Rock

Truffula tree - the Lorax

    Unfortunately, the all day hike pretty much destroyed my right knee, which was already struggling.  It’s kind of worrying and frustrating to be having knee problems when 90% of what I wanted to do in NZ was hiking related, but now we’re in Nelson for a few days to relax and heal up.  These days off are becoming one of the things I look forward to the most, which is good at times, but can easily breed laziness and inactivity in one of the most active countries in the world. 

    On the last few hours of the long hike, I found myself thinking of my last few days in the US: dinner with Luke, smashing rocks at the Greenbelt with Robin, Phil’s third appreciation party, coffee and friends at Mozart’s, breakfast in Dallas with my parents and Kathleen, and dinner with Elaine in LA.  There was a lot of joy in those weeks.  I wished that I could have those things now, but quickly stifled the thought – those things are to be enjoyed and remembered, but will consume me if lingered on and yearned for.  I had to remind myself, to convince myself even, that there can be just as much joy and fruit from this time.  It kind of reminded me of my summer of solitude in Wyoming.  It could have been such an adventure, but I squandered it in loneliness and self-pity.  Before that was the miserable first semester at TAMS.  I’ve grown so much in these last few years and I’ve been eager for another opportunity to do it right, to struggle well, to fight for the peace and freedom that is mine in Christ – “it is for freedom that Christ has set you free; therefore, stand firm.”

    For now, I’m praying that my knee will feel better in a few days before we hit the Fox glacier, or at least before Queenstown.  Being hurt and sick isn’t so bad when you think of it in terms of “for whatever reason, God though it best to give me a cold, make my knee hurt, and slow me down.”  Just gotta trust that God knows what’s up.

    I also saw a guy with a Dr. Pepper in Wellington and almost lost it.  He looked at me like I was insane when I was all like, “Dr. Pepper!? Dude, that shit’s amazing, huh?”  He just smiled and turned away.  Whatever, he clearly didn't keep it real.  I bet he’s drinking Coca-Cola and reading his horoscope right now.  But at least I know there is DP somewhere in this country.  

    This is a very long post, but I’ve done a lot in the last 5 days and haven’t had time, or internet, to update this blog.  But do read it, because it was a lot of fun to live it.

    After a quick night in Auckland, Dustin and I used the Nakedbus to travel down to Rotorua, about 4 hours away, and found a cheap hostel in the middle of town.  The staff told us that they were having a barbeque on the deck patio, so we grabbed some lamb sausage and steak and had dinner and watched the sunset outside.  We sat around with most of the hostel staff, who themselves are only passing through New Zealand for a few weeks, and listened to stories from Germany, Scotland, Norway, Holland, England, and of course NZ. 

    The next morning, we had to find a way to get to Waitopu, a geothermal park about 25 km away.  Buses ran from the town center, but cost $35 a person.  After flipping a coin, Dustin and I decided to try the free option.  After 20 minutes of walking to highway 5, we got picked up by two 20 year old guys on summer break who were headed to Wellington.  After they dropped us off at the park, we found out we needed to drive to the nearby geyser, as there was no walkway.  We put out our thumbs once more and got picked up by the first car - a 40 year old Canadian woman on a three month break from work.  The park was a lot like Yellowstone, but it only took a few hours to see the whole thing.  Thankfully, our Canadian friend was there to take us to the local mudpits and also back to Rotorua. 

    Still eager to explore, we convinced our friend from the night before, Siobhan (Irish name, pronounced Shuh-vawn), to come with us to the local redwood forest.  The whole area was incredible – those trees are freaking huge and block out almost all sunlight.  It made me really want to go to northern California when I get back to the states.  We hiked around for a few hours and were completely pooped afterwards, but still had an hour long walk back to the hostel ahead of us.  Again, we popped out the thumb, and again got picked up on the first car that drove by, this time by a Kiwi woman just heading on to the next town. 

    The three of us were starving, so we went to the local store and rounded up everything we needed for my grandmother’s chili and my Wyoming cornbread.  The hostel had no measuring cups, and nobody knew what the hell a cup or teaspoon was, so we had to eyeball everything, and thankfully it all turned out alright.  Besides Dustin and me, nobody had ever had cornbread, so it was good to expose them to a little southern cooking.  After dinner, we played Texas hold ‘em with the same crew from the night before.  As we played, a storm rolled in and the rain came down hard, and everything was right in the world. 

    After a restful morning in Rotorua, we took the bus down to Taupo, but immediately hitched a ride to Turangi, this time by a 45 year old computer programmer who was into taekwondo.  By staying in Turangi rather than Taupo, we were able to get to the Tongariro Alpine Crossing much quicker and cheaper.  The next morning, one of the hostel workers took us to the trail head.  The alpine crossing usually takes 6 to 8 hours, with a 2 to 3 hour detour about midway through the crossing to the summit of Mt. Ngaurohoe – Mount Doom.  Obviously, this was a must. 

    It was raining and foggy the whole way up Mount Doom, and visibility was down to less than 40 feet.  It was some of the hardest hiking I’ve ever done – impossibly steep with shifting sands and sharp pumice sliding around everywhere.  About 20 minutes up, I remembered to put some sunscreen on my hands.  I happened to squirt out too much, so I wiped the extra on a nearby rock.  That proved to be a God send later.  Anyways, we reached the summit after an hour and a half of hard work, took our pictures, yelled “Isildur, cast it into the flame!” and headed back down, which wasn’t easy either.  Because of the nature of the rocks, we couldn’t find the trail that we had taken, so we started going towards the left.  We were essentially sliding blind down the side of a volcano.  Thankfully, Dustin had set trail points on his GPS as we ascended which we were able to head towards, but the GPS was a bit shaky and unreliable.  There were a few points where I was getting very frustrated, either from falling or being lost, but God opened up the clouds for a few seconds – just enough for us to see part of the trail that we had walked hours before. 

    We then knew the way and got back to the base of Mount Doom and started off towards the rest of the alpine crossing.  The trail was very steep again, which was a bit disheartening, but we kept on.  Then it going got real hard again, as hard as Mount Doom.  We went along for about 20 minutes when I saw it – a white smudge on a nearby rock on the trail – that damn sunscreen.  We had already been there, which meant we were going in the wrong direction.  At this point, we were livid.  The weather was crap and we were tired and couldn’t see anything.  But we went back and finally found the rest of the trail. 

    At this point, we were also way behind schedule and were worried that we wouldn’t make it to the end in time to get a ride back from our guy at the hostel.  So for the rest of the trail, about 15 km, we walked as fast as we could.  It was beautiful, very beautiful, but we didn’t have time to sit and enjoy it.  I thought we were home free after the last peak – instead, we had about 10 km of downhill walking in front of us, and at double the pace I would have liked.  There wasn’t much talking those last two hours as our feet and knees pounded on down.  We made it to the end of the trailhead 8 hours after starting, but it felt like 16 hours of it.  By the time we got back to the hostel, we were done.  We treated ourselves to some (crappy) Chinese food and then slept. 

    The next morning, we were on a bus to Wellington.  Just like that, we were out of the small town of Turangi and into the city.  We quickly made friends with a Kiwi guy in our hostel and participated in a speed dating thing at the backpackers’ bar.  Speed dating is already awkward, but I really don’t have much to talk about with girls from Sweden, Germany, or France who have a limited English vocabulary, so we got out of there after 3 or 4 rounds. 

One of our German roommates, a German girl named Michaela, told me that McDonald’s has free wifi, so I went with her.  And so here I sit, typing on my laptop in a McDonald’s with a German girl on Valentine’s night.  Romantic, I know.  She just acted out sneezing and asked me what the English word for it was.  I said, “sneezing.”  This relationship is going somewhere.

For the first time, in the midst of the frustrating alpine crossing, I missed home a little bit.  It’s weird to think that I can’t just go home tomorrow, but that home really is behind.  But I have to put my money where my mouth is, especially all this talk of being lonely and alone.  This really is an opportunity to grow, to see God in a big way, and to do something that I will look back on and be thankful for.  I'm excited to see the south island next, but it's been good to slow down every now and then and just enjoy where I am!  At the same time though, I’m really bummed that I won’t have Chick-Fil-A for like 5 months… Real talk, I need somebody to mail me some Dr. Pepper...  

I finally made it to Auckland from Fiji.  Fiji was very beautiful, but I went at a pretty bad time - recent flooding, local holiday, and bad weather from a tropical storm.  I got picked up from the airport by a van going to the hostel I was staying at, which already had 4 aussie and 2 german girls in it.  The driver offered me the front seat, so I quickly walked around to the right side of the bus, only to realize they drove on the other side of the road.  I walked back around and got in just in time to see all the girls laughing at me.  American moment #1.  The hostel I stayed at was full of backpackers midway through year long journeys.  It was only day 2 and I was envious that I couldn't travel for as long as them.  I got to chat with a lot of them and get some tips about New Zealand, Thailand, and Nepal - it seemed that everyone there was either coming from or going to NZ and had been to Thailand at some point, so I picked up tons of advice.

The weather cleared up for a day and I got to go to a island about an hour offshore and go snorkeling, where I've never seen such brightly colored fish.  Afterwards I just stood on the beach and walked around the island.  As I stood there, looking back at the main island, I realized how stupid it was that I was so blessed to be where I was.  

Yeserday, my flight to Auckland got canceled, with the next flight leaving the next morning.  Thankfully the company comp'd me a hotel with 3 free meals.  It was a nice hotel, but I was pretty much stranded there for the day - all day trips had already left and I was too sunburn (a snorkeling goggle pattern imprinted on my forehead) to stand a chance outside.  I was pretty bummed until Father of the Bride part 2 came on, and after Franck sang "every party has a pooper, that's why we invited you, George Baaanks," I felt much better.

I had a really good time while I was there.  I felt forced into feeling like I had to explore and go everywhere and do everything, but realized that I don't have to do anything.  I sat at the beach for a very long time and enjoyed it a lot.    The Fiji word for hello and welcome was "Bula," which sounds an awful lot like "hola."  Every single person said bula to everybody, which the tourists and their kids absolutely loved.    I found myself almost saying, "hola como estas" for the first two days, but got over it.  All in all, it was good to see a bit of the country, but I don't think I enjoyed it enough to go back any time soon.

It looks like Dustin and I are going to try to head south to Rotorua tomorrow, followed by Taupo, then Wellington.  We did a quick rundown of Auckland today, which is a beautiful town, and tried to convince a girl from Boston to quit her job at a pizza joint and join us for a few weeks.  We're still waiting for her to call us back.  Now we need to figure out how best to explore the south island, but we'll figure it out as we go.  Maybe we'll find Dustin a job along the way...

    Deciding what to take has been one of the more challenging aspects of preparing for this trip.  I've consulted dozens of websites that list out what other people brought on their round-the-world trips.  Some people go ultra-minimal, while others bring way too much.  They all say that less weight = more comfort, so I tried my best to pack only what I needed.

1.  REI 18L day pack
2.  Trash bags and zip lock bags
3.  Packable duffle bag (for checking the backpack on planes)
4.  Medicine, vitamins, first aid stuff
5.  Hiking boots
6.  Running shoes
7.  Chacos (in case I go to any YL camps)
8.  Bible, Moleskine, and sci-fi novel
9.  Sleeping bag liner
10.  Camera
11.  Small Eee-PC computer
12.  IPod Nano
13.  Power outlet adapters for NZ/Asia/Europe
14.  Combo lock
15.  Spare backpack belt buckel
16.  LED headlamp

1.  REI Rain Jacket
2.  Northface microfleece
3.  3 shirts (1 button down)
4.  2 long sleeve shirts (both button down)
5.  1 pair of pants
6.  1 pair of zipoff pants/shorts
7.  2 pair of shorts (1 boardshort)
8.  4 pairs of Exoficio underwear
9.  6 pairs of socks (1 running and 1 hiking)
10.  Absorbant travel towel

    And packing all of this into a REI Mars 80 backpack.  I'm carrying much less than 80 liters, but already had the backpack and can always strap it down smaller.  If I decide I need more or less, I can just buy it or trash it wherever I am.  I weight everything and it all came out to a little under 30 pounds.  I'm still contemplating another pair of shorts or pants and planning on buying a hat in NZ.  Suncreen might be a good buy too, being that I'm fair of skin.  Other than that, this is the final list unless I buy something tomorrow morning... REI is on the way to the airport.

    I'm not anxious or worried really, but just thinking to myself, "wow, I'm actually doing this..."  There's no turning back.  Like I said before, I just want to see what God has for me in all of this.

    The forecast calls for rain the whole time I'll be in Fiji... But, since Fiji is 18 hours ahead of Texas, I'll be watching it at 11:30 AM on a Monday morning!  It's the closest thing to being in America I'll find there, that's for sure.

"Loneliness is one of the most universal human experiences, but our contemporary Western society has heightened the awareness of our loneliness to an unusual degree...  Instead of running away from our loneliness and trying to forget or deny it, we have to protect it and turn it into a fruitful solitude."
- Henri Nouwen

    Over the last few weeks I've told a lot of friends and family about my trip, and it's been interesting to see what people think.  Everyone loves the idea of traveling the world, but what they really love is telling me where I should go and what I should do.  It's good natured and sometimes really helpful, but funny how we want to enjoy vicariously something we've never done, or share a favorite place or memory.  I'm no different - just this week, I learned that a friend was going to Ireland, so without any invitation told her all about where I've been and where I wish I had gotten to go.

    Eventually, the question comes up, "so who are you going with?"  The answer elicits much different and differed responses.  Some people applaud me for it, many think it would be hard, and a few feel it necessary to tell me how terrible of an idea that is.  By the way, kind of rude to say to someone who's already bought plane tickets and everything.  But if someone were to compare the two sets of reactions, they would conclude that we want to travel, but are afraid to be alone; we want to go out of the country, but not out of our comfort zone.  That's deep, huh?

    Henri Nouwen, in his book Reaching Out, makes some great observations about loneliness.  Nouwen goes into detail about how our aloneness isn't something to avoid, but something to be cultivated; that we must, "convert [our] restless loneliness into a solitude of heart."  He points out how relationships driven by loneliness turn into a tiring and anxious clinging to each other, but that true community can be found when we see friendship as a gift rather than a need.  I couldn't agree more; I've seen it in friends and in myself.


Teach me your way, O LORD, and I will walk in truth;
give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.
Psalm 86:11


    I'm excited to be alone for so long - it's an adventure in itself.  I mean, I've never done it, just like I've never traveled for so long.  It's a chance to spend undivided time with God, to listen and grow, to "ponder and search out." (Ecc. 12:9)  Jesus went into the desert for forty days, was attended by angels, then came back and proceeded to kick ass for three years straight.  Moses killed a dude, bounced, came back, raged against the machine, and drank water from a rock.  Jonah hung out in a fish.  Solitude is biblical, just trust me; it's going to be fine.  But really, if done right, a few months to myself will be a gift from God, one that I'll never forget.  I want to come back refreshed, centered, and at peace with God and with who He's made me.

    So now I leave in three days and can't wait.  After all that talk about being alone, it actually turns out that Dustin Cherry, a former Austin West YL great, will be joining me for a bit in New Zealand.  It'll be good to have someone else with me to learn the ropes of backpacking.

    Pretty soon I'll be posting pictures and stories instead of philosophizing.  I'll probably complain about how bored and lonely I am too...