The Never-Ending Superultramegapost From Hell

As some of you (i.e., my mom) may have noticed, it has been a long time since I updated the ol' blog. My apologies to all of you...it's been a very busy and eventful week and a half. Since I have kept you in the dark for so long, I've decided to satisfy your Universal appetites by bringing you up to speed with THE NEVER-ENDING SUPERULTRAMEGAPOST FROM HELL!!!

So...when I left off I had just finished my kayak trip on Doubful Sound. I think I covered that pretty well in my last post, but pictures were conspicuously absent. Well, I actually didn't take too many pictures on the trip (it was drizzling most of the time and I was too busy paddling), but here's what I have. These two pics were taken from the shore of our campsite on Hall Arm after the first day of paddling. I think they capture the overall feel of Doubtful Sound pretty well:

After finishing the kayak trip and hanging around in Te Anau for a while, I set off to walk the Kepler Track, one of New Zealand's nine so-called "Great Walks." In general, I think the "Great Walks" term is more of a DOC marketing device than an actual indicator of the quality of the track. You can often see scenery that is just as beautiful on less well-known tracks, but the Great Walks usually feature well-groomed trails and hostel-like huts with gas cookers and flush toilets, which make them prime targets for tourists that don't usually go hiking. An unfortunate side effect of these posh amenities is the cost of walking the track...it actually costs more to stay in a hut on the Kepler Track than it would to stay in a hostel! I took issue with this, so I devised a plan to hike the track in such a way that I would not have to stay in any of the expensive Great Walk huts. This turned out to be one of the best decisions I've made in a long time.

I started by combining the first two days of the hike into one, creating an exhausting 10-hour day. I set off walking at sunrise to make the most of the daylight. At the time, Lake Te Anau was shrouded in a thick fog, making for a cool and refreshing early-morning stroll. I walked along the lake for a few hours and then began to climb the grade leading up to Mt. Luxmore. As I gained alititude, I was able to get above the fog, and once the bush thinned out I was treated to gorgeous views of Cloud Land:

I continued along the track, stopping briefly at the Luxmore Hut for lunch. By this time the track had reached the sub-alpine level, and the landscape was covered with scrub and grassy tussocks:

For a little side trip, I ditched my pack and scrambled up to the summit of Mt. Luxmore. Here is a photo of the trig station at the top. You can see Lake Te Anau in the background:

I trekked through the sub-alpine zone, admiring the panoramic views, fresh air, and tranquility. After a long day (and what seemed like a million switchbacks), I descended into the Iris Burn Valley and camped next to the Iris Burn hut. The valley was damp and misty the following morning:

I spent the day hiking alongside the river. In contrast to the dry sub-alpine environment of the previous day, the valley was lush and green. In this picture, I came across what seemed to be a sea of ferns:

Eventually I came to the Shallow Bay hut on Lake Manapouri, where I would spend the second night. Shallow Bay turned out to be, by no small margin, the best feature of this track. The beach there was clean, quiet, secluded, and peaceful, and the weather was absoultely perfect. Scarcely a cloud in the sky, and nary a breeze to disturb the clear, cold water:

Later that evening, I caught a great sunset on the shores of Lake Manapouri:

I spent the night in the six-bunk Shallow Bay hut, which seemed plenty quaint:

However, a terrible secret was revealed to me at about 9:30 that night: the Shallow Bay hut has a serious mosquito problem. They came out just as I was nestling into my sleeping bag, and they would leave not even the smallest bit of exposed skin unpunctured. I ended up having to sleep with my head under the covers of the sleeping bag...not very comfortable.

Thankfully, I survived the night, and the following day was looking just as beautiful as the one before. Since I was in no hurry, and it was so pretty and peaceful there, I decided to spend another day just hanging around Shallow Bay. And since I had my tent with me, I was able to set that up to provide protection from the "mozzies:"

After another beautiful day (and night) at Shallow Bay, I finished the track and headed back to Te Anau to recharge. I spent a couple of days with Kelly and Nadja, travelers from The Netherlands and Germany, respectively. Since I was the youngest in the group (I'm 24, Nadja was 26, and Kelly was in her 30's), they took to calling me "Benjamin." I'm not sure why Europeans use this term for young people, but they certainly got a kick out of it.

Anyways, after hanging out in Te Anau for a couple days, I was eager to get out for a bit. So I decided that I would take the 3-hour round trip drive up to Milford Sound on the infamous Milford Road. Thus began the chapter in my story that I like to call:

THE SOUND AND THE FURY

The drive itself up to Milford Sound is pretty spectacular itself, so I was making plenty of stops to get out, take in the views, and snap a few photos. Here's one I took just before I plunged into the stygian depths of the Homer Tunnel:

(Note: The fact that some random guy's ass is prominently featured in the photo is an accident...AN ACCIDENT!!!)

Anywho, I was starting to notice that when Blue Steel would slow down and start to idle, the engine would bog down just a little. I didn't think anything of it at first. Unfortunately, the symptom was brought to the forefront of my attention when, as I turned into the parking lot at The Chasm, about 20 km from Milford Sound, the car stalled. Not good. I coasted into the lot and tried to restart the engine, to no avail. REALLY not good. Eventually I gave up and had to push the car into a parking spot. I was scratching my head trying to figure out what was going wrong. There was plenty of gas, plenty of oil, and everything under the hood seemed to be in its right place. But still she would not start. I was slowly getting used to the idea that I might not be driving back to Te Anau in my own car. Luckily, a sympathetic English couple offered to give me a ride back into town so I could talk to a mechanic.

To make a long story short, Blue Steel got towed all the way back to Te Anau, where the mechanic diagnosed the problem as distributor trouble. Apparently the distributor coil had blown. But no problem: he would just order a new coil, install it, and then I'd be good as gold. It was going to take a few days, though, so rather than sit around Te Anau and twiddle my thumbs, I decided to head out on another trek through Mt. Aspiring National Park.

My plan was to start at The Divide, just off the Milford Road, and link up the Greenstone and Caples tracks with a steep climb over Steele Saddle along the Steele Creek Route. In the morning, I caught a ride up to The Divide with a group of Milford sightseers and started off through the beautiful Greenstone Valley:

After two days in the Greenstone Valley, I began the 10-hour hike up to Steele Saddle. The Steele Creek Route was especially challenging because it's a route instead of a track. This means that there is no defined trail to follow, only trail markers...it's up to you to find the best route between markers. I will admit that I got a bit lost a few times...at one point I even missed a forest re-entry that was marked with three cairns and two blazes. Duh. Anyways, it got to be extremely tough going once I got above the bushline, as the landscape was covered with scrub brush and tussocks that I literally had to force my way through. It's a good thing I had gaiters on hand, or my legs would have been scratched to hell.

I took this picture as I was nearing the saddle and trying desperately to force my way through all that scrub brush. Steele Creek is in the lower left:

This is a shot from the top of Steele Saddle, looking back along the route towards the Greenstone Valley. It was a long hike!:

Me, triumphant after my conquest of Steele Saddle:

The route down the other side of the Saddle was ridiculously steep, and my knees took a pretty good beating. I couldn't believe that people actually tackled this route in the other direction! Eventually I made it down to the Upper Caples hut, where I relaxed and recuperated for one last day of hiking.

On the last day I made my way over McKellar Saddle and back to The Divide. Two sub-alpine saddles in two days...not too shabby! I was really tired by this point, though, so the trek was a bit of a chore. I was relieved to make it back to the parking lot, where I hitched a ride back to Te Anau with a geophysicist from Denver. Apparently he was in New Zealand to go on caving expeditions, a hobby of his. And here's another one for the "it's a small world" file: I found out he went to University City High School, which isn't more than a couple of minutes from Wash U!

He dropped me off at the service station in Te Anau so I could pick up Blue Steel and head back to the hostel. However, I was in for a bit of a shock. I walked into the garage and said "I'm the owner of the blue Honda Civic," and the mechanic sort of shuddered. Not a good sign. The conversation that followed went something like this:

"Is everything was alright with the car?"
"No. Did you enjoy your walk?"
"Yeah, it was great."
"That's good, because you might be doing a lot more walking."
"Uh oh. What's the matter?"
"Well, this car has never had regular oil changes, so there's wear all along the cam shaft and cylinder head, which caused the cam shaft to seize, which caused the pulley gear to slip on its axis, which threw off the engine timing and blew the distributor coil."
"Okay...so what are my options?"
"Well, professionally, I shouldn't even put the engine back together in this condition, but I could order a new pulley gear and try to polish the camshaft and cylinder head, but I wouldn't guarantee the car to drive more than 5 feet in that condition. To replace the camshaft and cylinder head would cost more than the car is worth."
"What's the other option?"
"We can charge you $80 to dump the car for you."
"Uh, alright. So what you're saying is there are no good options?"
"Exactly."

I'm not sure why, but at this point I recalled an old Star Trek episode, where Captain Kirk learns of the death of one of his extraterrestrial love interests. Of course, you have Dr. "Bones" McCoy there with his standard blunt delivery: "She's dead, Jim."

She's dead, Jim. Blue Steel is dead.

I suppose I could have taken a gamble and had the mechanic polish the worn spots and rebuild the engine, but who knows when it would have broken down again? On top of that, I could not in good conscience attempt to sell this car to anyone after I was finished with it. It was a time bomb waiting to go off. So I made the decision to put Blue Steel, after a lifetime of abuse, out of her misery.

As weird as it may sound, I think I actually went through the 5 stages of grieving with Blue Steel:

1. DENIAL: "I can't believe this is happening. I mean, what are the odds? This is the sort of shit that's supposed to happen to other travelers, not me!"

2. ANGER: "Dammit, of all the times for this car to quit, it had to be NOW?!?!? I bet the dude who sold this car knew it was in terminal condition...the bastard! Oh, cruel fate, why dost thou torment me so?!?!?"

3. BARGAINING: "Maybe she'll still run if I polish the cam shaft and use some fancy engine additives...then I might at least be able to finish the trip with the car intact. You can make it, Blue Steel...I just know you can!"

4. DEPRESSION: "Jeez, I am so f---ed. All that money, vanished like a fart in the breeze. What the hell am I going to do now?"

5. ACCEPTANCE: "Okay, there is a harsh reality to face: the car is dead. But that's in the past, and there's nothing I can do about it now. Look...I willed this trip into existence. I embarked on my own terms, I am going to continue on my own terms, and I will quit on my own terms. No goddamn car is going to tell me when it's time to give up and go home. F--- that. You hear that, fate? Is that the best you've got? You can't stop me! I'm the Universal Traveler! The Universal goddamn Traveler! I'm INVINCIBLE!!!"

So there you have it. That's how the last week and a half went down. I hit the highest natural highs the Fiordlands have to offer. I suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. But I'm still going. Yesterday I took the bus into Wanaka, the last outpost before heading out along the West Coast. I'm taking a day or two just to relax, collect my thoughts, and plan my next move. I'm not exactly sure where I'll go next, but hopefully I'll be better in the future about keeping you all updated. Stay tuned!

Blue Steel (The Wonder Car), R.I.P.