February has been a busy month so far. Let’s pray I can remember everything.
Tom and Robyn were away in New Caledonia for about a week. They were only home approximately 36 hours before leaving again for a a week in Central Otago, just long enough to restock on peanut butter and avocados.
Bless them.
The biggest news of the week: I selected Monday the 25th as my last day at Coppins, and on the 27th, my childhood best friend Tyler Greene flies out to join me for the last leg of my NZ experience: exploring the South Island. When I set off on this journey I wanted to go alone. Now that I have what I wanted out of doing it solo, particularly the learning that came with my first two months here, I’m ready to share with someone else. It’s also coming at the perfect time for Tyler.
I had a special meal the day Tom and Robyn left the first time. There was leftover lamb in the fridge, and I decided to put some effort into its preparation. First, I put on some quinoa in vegetable stock and set to caramelize some onions while it cooked. I grabbed a courgette and a few plums from the garden to chuck on the grill. The onions were mixed into the quinoa which became the bed of my plate. The grilled plums and courgette went alongside the lamb on top. Yes I took a photo.
I did a couple other meals worth mentioning. No photos though.
One night I took a stab at fish tacos which I’ve been eating with Tom and Robyn pretty regularly. I finally found regular corn tortillas at New World, so I figured it was worth a shot. The fish was dipped in an egg bath and breaded with g-free panko. I served it with sauted onions and capsicum, black beans, avocado, cheese, and salsa. It was OK, but I did it again today with better fish and a slaw and it came out way better.
The grocery store was low on chicken, so I picked up some Bostock organic “nibbles” cause they were cheap. It turns out nibbles are just the same as wings. I turned to mom for advice on preparation, and she suggested I pop them on a pan with some other veggies and bake it in the oven. I couldn’t find potatoes in the garden, so I just put chopped courgette, sliced onions, tomatoes, and garlic around the pan with olive oil, rosemary, and salt. When I took it out of the oven I was disappointed by how it looked, but as soon as I tried it all doubts vanished. Served with brown rice. It provided multiple meals, and I liked it so much I bought more nibbles today to try in a new recipe.
I did a group ride in Stoke with Daniel, Tasman, Amber, and Brooke on January 30th. We rode Convolution next to Involution. My legs were tired from ascending Fringe Hill the day before, but after 20 minutes of climbing I found my way to a zone. Tasman taco’d his front wheel on the way down and has since installed a new set of Roval Carbon wheels.
Thursday night I met Tasman and Amber in Riwaka to go to the Thursday open mic at the Park Cafe in Marahau. Tasman drove us over the hill to the edge of Abel Tasman Park. In the lot, we spotted a camper van with such a wicked paint job I couldn’t help but drool.
It was a super low key scene. We romped around on the beach while the light disappeared before heading inside for some gluten free baked goods and berry cider. Once things picked up a bit we moved down to the dance floor and moved our bodies to the (unexceptional) music. Of course, it’s the people, not the music, who make it special, and I left having had a seriously good time.
Friday evening I attended a memorial ride for New Zealand pro mountain biker Kelly McGarry who died in 2016. He grew up in Wakefield near Nelson, so every year a ride is organized at Silvan forest to commemorate his life. Not only was I stoked to be a part of his memorial ride, Silvan forest has been closed due to fire risk, so it was my only chance to see it while I’m here.
We rode up to the meeting area where everybody gathered to hear a few words about Kelly. Then we climbed the rest of the way to the top together and came cruising back down in one big, long, dusty train. Mr. Whippy’s ice cream truck was waiting at the bottom.
Someone made a video of the tribute ride. See me on the left at 1:53, riding around the corner at 3:47, and waiting in line for ice cream at 4:35. WordPress won’t let me embed the video for some reason.
I worked the next three days and don’t remember anything worth mentioning.
Tuesday was a big day for Rex. He’d just finished a ten day Buddhist retreat and was itching to pick up his e-bike. I told him I’d go but I needed to eat something first, and he offered to get me lunch at the cafe next door to Coppins.
After our excellent $6 lunch special at the Arcadia cafe (best lunch deal in Mot, hands down) we traipsed into Coppins, where I proceeded to wait an hour while Rex got all his accessories and details sorted out. On our way out, he took me to the fruit stand in Riwaka for a celebratory “cherry dream” smoothie.
On our way back from Mot, we saw a plume of smoke rising to the South, definitely a fire. It looked like it might be awfully close to the house. As we drove on, it seemed more and more like it might be right around Tom and Robyn’s place. Then I remembered, I forgot to turn off the espresso machine! It’s an ancient piece of Italian machinery, and my knowledge of Italian cars and fires was less than reassuring.
I started to freak. Rex tried to comfort me but I couldn’t reign it in. I was sure I had set the house on fire. I started preparing myself for a lifetime of guilt. It didn’t help that the car in front of us was going at a snail’s pace.
Right until we got to the bottom of the road I was sure the fire was ours. When we got up the hill a little ways we could see the plume of smoke was coming from further up the valley. Some passing neighbors said it was in Pigeon Valley.
As soon as we were inside, I made a bee-line for the coffee machine. It was off. I could feel the cortisol in my bloodstream.
I’ve spent the week working on stuff for going off to Boulder in the fall. Just yesterday I submitted my housing application. It’s really interesting to discover how motivated and proactive I am about preparing for college compared to when I applied senior year. Part of why I came here in the first place was to get some distance from Palo Alto to examine my privilege.
Wednesday was a big day. I woke up at 6:30 and hopped into my clothes I’d laid out the night before. I had booked Tasman and myself a day at Wairoa Gorge bike park. Daniel would be joining us.
I’ve had difficulty finding the backstory to the Gorge. From what I’ve heard, an American billionaire bought up a chunk of land in the Southwest corner of the Richmond range and had a giant trail network built for himself. Within the past year, he opened it to the public through the stewardship of the Nelson MTB Club. The 70+km of world class trails are shuttle-served, and each run is more than 800 meters of vertical descent. It’s a riders paradise hidden out in the middle of nowhere.
On the drive up the valley, I passed Pigeon Valley Road which was closed and had firemen stationed. Did I mention the air was filled with thick smoke?
We had a perfect rendezvous. Tasman and Daniel drove out from Nelson/Stoke and went flying around the corner in front of me at a stop sign in Brightwater. I followed them the rest of the way up the dusty unsealed road out into the boondocks. My van got it’s first taste of a stream crossing on the way to the park.
We got to the gate early, giving me the chance to eat my breakfast I’d brought along. Other cars arrived and parked behind us. There were a ton of sand flies. I came prepared with repellent.
At 8:00 the shuttle driver showed up and unlocked the gate onto the forestry road. At the parking area we convened for a rider briefing and were given radios for communication. Then we geared up and biked across a bridge over the gorge itself to where the shuttle vehicle was waiting.
I crashed on our warm up run, as you do. I didn’t notice a loose flat rock in the middle of a corner, and my front wheel was swept out from under me. I took a massive impact to my quad and lost my wind. Not confidence inspiring. My quad was pretty bruised, but I picked myself up and carried on.
At the bottom of the run I realized my front tire was extremely low. I had burped the tire off the rim when I crashed, and there was trail debris stuck between the sealing surfaces. We had a pump at the car.
On the next run Tasman sliced his thick-casing downhill tire clean across on a rock on a mellow section of trail. There was tubeless sealant everywhere. He has Cushcore, which is a foam insert that stretches around the rim to protect it and keep the tires from squirming around under high cornering forces. Even though his tire was stuffed, he was able to continue down the grade 5 trail and cruise the fire road back to the car where he had a spare waiting.
The next mechanical failure was on my bike. I had noticed a creaking sound from the front of my bike but assumed it was from dust in the headset. As my tire would deflate with each run, I felt I was riding better when it was extremely low. That was strange. Then I realized the creaking was coming from my fork, which had more or less stopped working. My bike is still pretty new, and the fork has low enough hours I wouldn’t expect any misbehavior from it. Either way, I was stuffed. I tried to continue riding, but between my physical debilitation and the lack of any front suspension, I was pretty well beat. Our last run after lunch was so painful, I barely made it down the easiest trail, stopping every few minutes to shake out my wrists. At least we all survived our day at the Gorge, although it took its toll on our bikes and bodies.
Back in stoke we got some takeaway burgers and headed back to Daniel’s place to watch Pro Women’s XC racing. We dropped the lowers off my fork to see if there was anything obviously out of place, which there wasn’t. I sent it off to the Fox service center in Wanaka on Friday for warranty.
Tasman had requested time off to race the Aorere Enduro in Nelson, but it got cancelled last minute because the fire. I had already offered to cover his shifts at Coppins, which meant I had to work Thursday. He and Amber took off for Christchurch to evade the smoke and ride the lift-served adventure park.
All of the trails around Nelson are closed to fire risk. The Gorge stopped operations until the rain comes. We got the last day of riding to be had.
There was an air inversion over the Golden Wedgie and we had some super bad smoke on the mornings of Thursday-Saturday. It added to the illusion that I’m back in California.
Another fire popped up on Walter’s Bluff near downtown Nelson. It was clear enough I could see literal flames through the telescope in the living room. They had it out by night.
Saturday evening I had Rex in for dinner. Later, he took my down to Eddyline and bought me a drink. Eddyline adds something to their beer to reduce the Gluten below 20ppm. They have a celiac employee who can drink it no problem. I tried the Crank Yanker IPA, which was fantastic. I may not have an experienced palate or ability to describe flavors, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate an excellent beer. We met a bartender from Montreal and chatted until closing. Rex and I make for an amusing duo.
Yesterday I was tipped for the first time in New Zealand. It’s not part of the culture here, so I’m especially proud to be the recipient of such an uncustomary gesture.
After dinner last night I drove to Stoke to install a loaner fork from Daniel. Tasman was there helping him fix his car audio system. The fork went on no problem, and when the boys were done we went for a little ride to the school up the street.
We jibbed around for awhile on our bikes. I took off my hoodie and set it on a bench to keep from overheating. We were down around the corner of the building and heard a group of youths pass through, hooting and hollering. When we rode back around a few minutes later, my hoodie was gone from the bench. At first I thought I had set it elsewhere, but then it became clear the others had swiped it. Tasman and Daniel asked if I wanted to get it back, but I didn’t want any trouble. We could hear them out on the dark playing field nearby, so I figured I’d go ask nicely if they had it.
I shouted over to the group from a distance asking if they had seen my hoodie on the bench. They said they hadn’t, so I asked again if they were sure (obviously the answer wouldn’t change, but I didn’t think it through, even when I posed the question originally). Unsurprisingly, they denied it again, feigning exasperation. One member stepped out of the group and started approaching me, asking “what’s up dude?” (such a silly way to initiate a fight, sounds more like a genuine inquiry). These kids wanted trouble. Having flashbacks to the last time I got punched, I simply turned and rode back to where my friends were waiting.
This was hard to let go. Retrospectively reconstructing the encounter isn’t a healthy diversion of energy. Of course I could have brought my friends with me, gotten close enough to shine a light and expose the garment (or at least Daniel’s tree trunk arms), and ask not if they had seen it but if they had it (I was far too passive). Reason prevails. It’s just stuff. I still have everything I had yesterday that matters. I didn’t get beat up. Maybe they needed it more than I do, whatever. There are plenty of ways to look past. It just hurts to lose a possession when you have so few along. I pretty much lived in that hoodie. The only other thing I’ve lost so far was my soap container at the public showers in Rotorua the same night Brett gave me curry, and I was bummed about that one for ages.
On our way back to Daniel’s place we stopped at the Night n’ Day for milkshakes, Daniel’s treat. I would trade that hoodie for the friendships I have any day.
Yesterday was a pretty low key day off spent on the phone with mom and writing this post. Rex invited me to sit in on his weekly circle. I was nervous but even more curious and didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to try something new and get out of my comfort zone a little bit.
We left early to get dinner at our favorite Arcadia Cafe. They were almost out of food, so for the same $6 we got plates piled high with little samples of everything left. Lucky us.
I was afraid it would be a bit wishy-washy and overly spiritual, confirmed by my initial impressions. One of the first people I was introduced to was some whacked out hippy who after saying nice to meet you added: “actually I don’t know if it’s nice cause I don’t know you.” Or something along those lines. Completely seriously. I was a bit taken aback and had no idea how to reply. Thanks for your honesty I guess.
Once the circle got going I was able to relax a little bit. My eyes were opened to an exchange of open-heartedness. People shared deeply personal feelings even relating to others in the room. One couple had recently been through some marital spat and were individually able to talk about how they were recovering and working together to find a solution that worked for both of them. It seemed like a marriage that might last, both members recognizing their differing needs and willing to compromise.
I was too intimidated to share anything of my own even though I was moved to do so multiple times. I started getting down on myself for passing up an opportunity to push myself but quickly recognized the futility of such feelings and instead focused on soaking up what others were saying. This whole experience came at an appropriate time for me.
I’ve been genuinely happy for a few weeks now, but something changed on Sunday. I slumped into a low and depressive state for no apparent reason. Maybe it’s because I became so accustomed to my happiness I let my guard down from screening cognitive errors. Either way, I have all the tools I need to climb back out, and last night’s circle got me jump started a little bit.
The truth is you win some you lose some. It’s not that you necessarily need to label everything as such, but as a generalization my life has been blessed with far more wins than losses. I tend to dwell on the losses and distract myself from the comfort and beauty of the present.
One challenge is my having 5 days off this week and no solid plans. The weather’s good, but everyone has work. I need to summon some of my sister’s enjoyment of solo journeying. There are a bunch of little to-dos on my list that I’m procrastinating on, but for the first time today I’m motivated to put in work. I need to fix the relay on my second battery system and create a containing box for the batteries. Then I need to take my new counter off, sand, and apply polyurethane varnish. I need to answer some emails, buy a plane ticket, and start working on a scholarship application. I see some cooking and laundry in my future too. I won’t forget to get out of the house for some exercise at some point. One foot in front of the other.
My adventure in New Zealand 