You got cotton in your ears boy?

Sleep comes and goes. The amount I sleep is directly proportional to how much I physically output during the day. There is not any getting comfortable and nodding off. There is no easy drift into an unconcious state of rejuvination. There is simply a point where my body says it has had enough and decides that the 3/4 inch air mattress and a bag stuffed with clothes impostering itself as a pillow will just have to be suitable sleeping domain. The growing nights of restless sleep does does allow for one positive aspect, that being that I have more vivid dreams. Since the intense hours of cycling no longer fill the majority of my day, vivid dreams are something that fill a majority of my night. Many I cannot remember, however there are many that stand out when I arise.

On the second night of Abel Tasman track I had a very strange dream. I dreamt that I woke up and felt my ear because it seemed as if it were clogged. Inspection found that it was over flowing with wax. Disgusted, I decided that an ear candle would be necessary in the morning. Clearly, at morning my ear was not in any need of any wax removing procedure. This dream had me focusing on my ears and sound for many hours as I walked the track. I was playing around with sound production concepts influenced by my sorroundings and conciously taking in as much of this sense as possible.

As this final day narrowed down, visions of cliffs hanging over clear seas boyishly envoked only one thought, "Where can I jump from?" Influenced by the same thoughts, Brandon, Sep (a guy we tramped with), and I found ourselves at Separation Point taking off our clothes wondering who was going to go first. We all took that plunge hoping that the nearby seals would not act teritorial. Once the waters were deemed safe with the initial conservative jump, I found myself needing to feed the adrenaline junky that lives within me. I stood at the edge with my feet touching each other and imagined a swan dive with a quick foward flip just before I hit the water. I wondered if my muscle memory from previous jumps would get me through this. I wondered if I had enough time. There is only one way to find out the answer to these queries, and that is the moment when one takes a final deep breath, gets a kick of adernaline, and does everything that the body was telling them not to do. Muscle memory - Check. TIme - ... not enough. I landed short of the full rotation on my back with my head sideways. I imagine my readers thinking, "Ow, back smacker!" Sorry to lead you astray. Yes, there was a notable pain from this, but that was completely overpowered by the rupturing of my ear drum! Once again my undivided attention was focused on my ear. Sea water drained from my sinuses for the rest of the day, pressure built and built making it unbearable to move, and all I could think about was how aniticipated this was. It was in my dream that something was going to affect my ear and I chose to ignore the warnings. I took the pluge with doubts and now my ears are popped 100 percent of the time, while my right ear has minimal hearing. I plan to see a doctor if an infection sets in, otherwise I am hoping that it will clear itself up with time.

I landed in Melbourne this morning. Good times on the plane with all the changes in cabin pressure. I have not even had the opportunity to give this city a once over and it is already standing out. The jobs are plentiful, the mass transit system works, the neighborhoods seem ethnic, there are neighborhoods, etc. I suppose that I should do more than just get to my couchsurfing accomodations before I pass judgement.

Laying the bike down.

The tour has ended. Unable to obtain the parts needed for the last 4-6 day stretch of cycling an unexpected decision has been made to call it off early. The sense of achievement is blanketed by this, however it was time anyways. Redundencies were a catalyst to delerium, and countinuous rain began the onset of a slight case of mania.

Besides this news I would like to share a few paragraphs from The Hidden Connections by Fritof Capra with some of my personal comments. Within a section called 'The Nature of Life' Capra goes into a highly condensed synopsis of what we can consider life to be in a biological frame of reference. Many sections stand out to me so much so that I am already reading these parts over again in hopes of a better understanding. This following excerpt stood out to me and and this is something I want to share.

"Detailed studies of the flow of matter and energy through complex systems have resulted in the theory of dissipative structures developed by Ilya Prigogine and his collaborators. A dissapative structure... is an open system that maintains itself in a state far from equilibrium, yet is nevertheless stable: the same overall structure is maintained in spite of an on going flow and change of components. ... The dynamics of these dissipative structures specifically include the spontanious emegence of new forms of order. When the flow of energy increases, the system may encounter a point of instability... at which it can branch off into an entirely new state where new structures and new forms of order may emerge.

"The spontaneous emergence of order at critical points of instability is one of the most important concepts of the new understanding of life... It has been recognized as the dynamic origin of developement, learning, and evolution. In other words, creativity - the generation of new forms - is a key property of all living systems."

This is an interesting concept within its own parameters and understanding it fully may require some extra reading. However, I want to focus on its general conclusion and apply the concept beyond cellular life and dissapative structures. What interests me is the critical points of instability which leads to developement, learning, and evolution. I am sure that most of my audience knows from experience that turbulent times within their social persona and/or personal ego has ultimately lead to learning and developement for the better. But, can we say that there is evolution as a result? Evolution as an organisim? Probably not! However, evolution as a living social network of human beings is more probable and this leads back to my post concerning my known audience. Communicaiton of our learning an developement is an effetive way to expand the evolution of human beings because we exist in a living social network. The evolutionary chain demands that we communicate otherwise all we are doing is stunting the growth of ourselves and our oneness within the network.

I guess I should communicate more.

Love you all. Special thanks to Chad and Jen W. for their wonderful encouragement and insites. Extra love to that baby boy (I almost cry everytime I think about him).

Keep on rockin' !

Moving on

I appreciate all the response that I have recieved since the last post. I feel a little strange finding out how many people are following my stories with excitement. Although I was given a bit of a boost to continue with my tales I am going to be subborn.

How about just a small update of where I am at now. I am in Franz Josef Glacier township. It is about noon. Brandon and I are a bit stuck here at the moment. We both have had a breakdown. A spoke pulled trough my rear rim and Brandon's bearings in his pedal are destroyed. We need a ride to Greymouth for part's however the bus will only take us if they have room for the bikes. Thus far they have not had any room. Tomorrow hopefully they will. The rain stopped for a day, but it looks like that will not continue. There are lots of little and big downers that have really been making the past few days a struggle for me. With all this, my mood is not at its peak but its not getting me down. I am still focusing on the good, and laughing at the stupid. Not to mention the thought that I am not in -30 degree wind chills, I am not working a job everyday, and that the mountains or the sea are just about always at my finger tips, make me realize that I have a lot of good going for me.

The cycling trip is ending in late February when I fly out to Australia.

This is all I have for you now. Pictures are not available until I can upload them.

Love you all.

My audience is known, My words are formed for them. This is nothing but another perpetuation.

The other night I lay awake, sorting my experiences. I subconsciously quantitatively rate them and logically form them as I remember and reinvent my memories and manifestations of the time that was once now. I do this for the sake of relating my interpretations and my choices within this external world back to those who I blindly think might care or understand any of it. My personal interpretations are not only skewed when I verbally communicate them, but also from the point of my sensory organs intaking and translating messages to my nervous system which then need to be interpreted again by my conscious mind, to the point when my audience reads and interprets my skewed interpretations form their skewed perspectives. Simply, and unreliable source.

I come to realize that I am a fool for my attempt at logging my trip for anybody other than myself. I feel that for me to do otherwise, and continue at status quo, I am only perpetuating that which I suppress - my ego. I would love to share stories of my travels and excursions for the sake of conversation and entertainment, however this story is far from complete and this method of communication lacks as priorly mentioned. Also, although I tried to add twists of humor and gained wisdom within my posts the fact is that as I published my emphasis was always directed by a need to feed my audience. Since my audience in known I project a story for them, and not necessarily the whole story, but a sliced and diced story. A story of how I want them to view me. Thus, I quantitatively rate and logically sort my interpretations in a way to communicate my apparent need to project myself, my ideas, and my ego upon those that read my interpretations.

As I write this my audience is still known, my words are formed for them, and this is but another perpetuation. At least it is realized.

I am unsure of exactly what the future of this blog will be. As much as I would rather not have the strong influence of all my readers opinions I feel that I might need them. So please feel free to push me around with your interpretations, because I realize that communication is the most human thing to do and I am only human.

The trip is going well, and I will post pictures for your entertainment (and skewed interpretations) as soon as I find a good computer.

Much love and peace to all of you. A little bit extra to mom, dad, and sis. A whole lot to Harper.

Against the Wind: Christchurch to Dunedin via Mt. Cook

Christchurch: Located on the East coast within Pegasus Bay just north of the Banks Peninsula it is the largest city in the South Island. Although the largest, it does not feel like a big city at all. The tallest building in the city center can hardly be called sky scrapers and the rest have an outdated but warm feeling to them. Much of the city center revolves around tourism, as much of New Zealand does.

When we arrived in Chch our couch surfing hopefuls were unable to host us so I began frantically trying to figure out where we could sleep for a couple nights (because we all know by now that a hotel is out of the question and a hostel is following not far behind). Thankfully, I was put into contact with Greg and Wendy via the warm showers list (a website for touring cyclist). Greg and Wendy kindly took us in with such short notice and I feel forever in debt to their hospitality. -- If you two are reading this I would like to thank you again for your kindness. I hope that you understand that you made our time in Christchurch an absolute pleasure. Greg, good luck on you tour in France, I hope to make it there someday myself. --

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After our legs had rested and Mt. Cook Began calling our names we knew that our stay in Christchurch had expired and it was time to make our way to the highlands. We headed west into the long, straight, and flat roads of the Cantebury Plains. For those who have been reading this web log it is well known how I feel about the long, the straight, and the flat roads. Now, combine that feeling with a Nor-Wester that slammed us with head winds the entire day and one might start to get the idea of how my day went. I can confidently say that it was the most challenging day of cycling not only physically but also mentally... ever! It took six riding hours to cover a mere 45 miles, with nothing but the flat unending plains to stir my senses. The day ended in the Raikia Gorge with a rainy night. annihilated, I asked a higher deity for forgiveness on whatever it was that I had done wrong.

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The next few days ran smoothly because of the new perspective of suffering that I had achieved. The more one suffers the more joy one will ultimately achieve. One will come to realize joys of the previously unknown luxuries held in daily life. With the knowledge of how things could be, the way things are is much more than satisfactory. One could also reverse this thought and apply it to those who experience day to day luxuries and not any of suffering. In the end they actually do suffer because nothing is ever satisfactory. Now apply this to the unending consumption caused by American capitalism and we might have an idea of were the societies that revolve around such materialism might be headed. True never ending suffering! Of course this is an extreme example but something to think about.

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Since the plains had ended, the landscape gradually got more and more epic. After a small pass over a range I was greeted from afar with the snow capped mountains within Mt. Cook and grassy fields rolling up the sides of smaller mountains close by. As if this was not enough, I was soon blessed with the oddly teal colored glacial lake Tekapo. Apparently, there is a very thin layer of soot that rests a top the water from the glaciers that feed it. When the sun hits this layer it causes the lake to appear as if it is glowing! Not long long after we passed Lake Tekapo we came across Lake Pukaki glowing just like the last, but with Mt. Cook at the head of it. The decision to camp on its shores was made instantly.

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We arrived without delay in Mt. Cook National Park the next afternoon. I am not sure that i can put into words how absolutely stunning this area of the world is. The entire region emanates pure, raw, and peaceful earthly energy. Snow capped jagged mountains with glaciers running between them, deep long valleys harboring rushing rivers while flora and fauna cascade within their boundaries, water appearing from underneath glaciers falling down steep mountain sides, an ever changing view caused by the ever changing shadows and lighting. Pictures have boundaries, and words have their limits. The only way to understand this place is to personally experience the emergent properties that the senses exhibit combined with ever breath of air that it feeds you. Definitely a place I would love to experience again.

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I took a lone hike the evening before we left. This turned out to be no ordinary hike. The trodden path is about a two hour round trip, but the trodden path only takes you to a plauto half way up the mountain side. Although, at this point, the views were fantastic and my legs were burning a voice in my head kept saying, "It will be a lot better at the top, keep going!" Of course, I succumbed to my ego or my inner spirit, I am not sure, and continued upward. From this point on there were many opportunities which one slip would send my body plummeting down a rocky mountain face like, but not as graceful, as a slinky. I did make it to the top! Although my legs felt like they were pumping with hydrochloric acid, the solitude and peace obtained out weighed this feeling. It was a 360 degree panaramania. It was hard to take in any view for too long because another was always inching into my peripherals. For all the suffering that my legs would endure the next few days because of this hike, it was certainly worth it.


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We caught some serous rainfall on the ride out of Mt. Cook. The rain really is not all that bad. As long as you can stay warm its can be a nice change of scenery. Riding along Lake Pukaki was rather surreal. With a sky that blended perfectly with the colors of the lake the human eye could not tell where one ended and the other began. With rockey cliffs that jutted out from the shore line, it seemed as if they were just floating in the skys. For about 60 km we took in this dark yet beautiful scenery while unknowingly being protected by a close mountain range from fierce winds from the west. We were soon head on to the slaughterous winds carrying rain so ferociously that it felt like needles were being thrown at you. With my rain jacket totally soaked through and acting like a parachute in the wind, rushing semi's carring walls of water with them, and being forced to always look down in order to protect my face, I was ready to throw in the towel after less than 500 meters. Just as this thought crossed my mind I passed a sign stating the next town was in 8km. Only 8km, huh! This 8km broke me down to a helpless, passive, and less than cognant being. It was like a survival state that my body knew it had to keep going no matter how much my mind said stop. We made home in a laundromat for many hours in a small town called Twizel and waited out the rain.

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Heading back to the east coast was also breath taking. For just about an entire day of cycling we trended downward in a gently undulating roads which carried us from one mountain lake to another, and along side a wide river. Eventually, mother Pacific welcomed us with her beauty and some brisk winds. To me, there is just something amazing about riding next to such a grand sea. I reckon that it could be my closeness to such an eternally vast body of power and beauty that is held in such a perfect equlibrium. While hugging this most balanced body, Brandon and I ran across a strange set of boulders scattered about a beach in Moeraki. These perfectly rounded boulders looked like a next of giant dinosaur eggs. Not much to say about them just check out the photos.

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We made it to have made it to Dunedin, and are planning on checking out some local sites and resting our legs as much as possible.

Much love and peace to all my family and friends. Harper, you just keep in growing! I think about you all the time and when I do tears come to my eyes because of how much I want to be with you. Mom, Dad, and Erin I love you all so much! Mark, keep on keeping on! Much love and give Dutch a big hug for me!

Yankee Doodle Went Down South, Riding On a Trek...

Quadzilla #1 and Quadzilla #2 are picking up that razors edge and inching it closer and closer to their main arteries, but moments before the cold rusty edge starts to split the hairs near their femoral they realize that the physical pain that they have endured just is not enough to end it all. Just kidding! All is fantastic and blessed here in this quadrant of the world. I last left off with the thrills of skydiving over Lake Taupo, thus I begin with the adventures since then.
National Park Village was the next destination on the map. The night before we left was most interesting and notable. At one of our most plush "camp sites," located next to a crisp river our peaceful rest under the stars became less of a rest and more of a rush of adrenaline. Choosing not to use the tent that night, I woke up with a fearsome opossum squealing about 3 feet from my head. I let out a roar to scare this beastly critter away. It sprinted noisily up a tree and then the games began. For the next hour or two there was a staring contest between this large clawed territorial scavenger, and Brandon and I, as it perched itself on a branch just above our heads. I was openly laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation, but we went on peering into each others eyes waiting for the other to budge. Finally, the humans won and needless to say I slept with my cycling cleat in hand for the rest of the night.
Leaving Taupo was a very scenic ride! With waterfront spanning for many kilometers prior to a climb into a pine forest. There is some scenery that stands out much more than others of course. I become upset when I see hundreds of mountain side acres logged to a brown dust with little more than a couple stumps scattered about, and branch rubbish piled off in the distance. But, the joy overcomes me when I enter into a lush green forest, descending steeply into a waterfront. This is the reward, this is the trophy, this is what I work for, this is why I travel the way I do. One will never get the same effect in a car, on a bus, or by foot, because they didn't put the hours of work in to fully enjoy what this beautiful section of road beholds.
Speaking of all that work I put in, getting to National Park Village became much easier than expected. An older Kiwi couple pulled over just as we passed the half way point, just as we were beginning a 45km stretch of mostly up hill road, just as we were saying to ourselves, "Christ, we have to climb that," and asked us if we wanted a lift. Easily putting our egos beside us, we tossed our bikes in the back of their van and relaxed our legs until they dropped us off 30ft from our next campground. Thank you!



The next day was the Tongariro Crossing! An 18.5 km hike with 1900m assent to the pinnacle. Considered by many to be the best day hike that New Zealand has to offer, I was very excited about this adventure. However, the weather was less than ideal which caused all of the best views to be completely fogged over by the clouds. But not worry, even though I had my head in the clouds I was not acting like it. To me the beauty lost was just beauty gained. So I lost the spectacular views beyond the mountain, but I got a chance to experience life on the volcano as it actually is. Life is rarely a sunny calm day, so why would I want anything less than my head in the cold and windy clouds! I focused on the nature of the hear and now rather than the views it had created in the past. It was opening in a different way, I saw more of the micro and less of the macro. The experience was the beauty of the parts rather than the beauty of the whole. I would do it again, I would do it in the pouring rain, I would do in the snow, I would do it however nature made me do it.





Those clouds turned to rain early that night and continued on getting heavier and heavier and the morning hours passed. With a wet tent from the night, sore legs from the hike, and no urge to torture ourselves anymore than necessary, Brandon and I chose to take a short bus ride in hopes to get out of the weather front. In Bulls, the amount of rain let up, however it was still raining. We saddled up put on 40k and ended up camping in a junkyard of a rest stop. With the road close by and busy with trucks throughout the night and the beating of rain on the tent, rest was not easy for me to attain.



Wellington NZ! The Capital City. We made it through the North Island. Wellington is a very unique city. Compact in size and settled between a large natural harbor and a hilly inland it has a very pretty location. The people that I encountered of Wellington carry an easy going and almost hippie like attitude with them and there are many small neighborhoods that seem to be independent of the rest of the city. The streets were busy with people but not crowded, and it seemed like there was always something going on for the restless. The food diversity was magnificent. Ranging from Indonesian satay noodle houses, Mediterranean kebab cafes, Indian and Thai cuisine, and all the other stomach fillers in between, choosing a place to dine was much of a pleasure.



We stayed with Joel and John, who we met while we were in the Coromandel. They lived a top a hill side in Aro Vally and unlike our measly 5 or 6 step stairways in order to enter our homes they had a 163 steps to climb and descend every time they come home or leave their home! Needless to say the household kept fit. Much of our time in Wellington was spent roaming the streets by foot, or climbing some hills to get the best views of the city by bike. However, we did spend many hours wondering around the impressive national museum, Te Papa. With magnificent exhibits that explained the history of New Zealand starting from its earthly formation, to the earliest inhabitants, to the English rape of the people and land, to the art of the past, and the land of the now, one could not help but read and examine every possible corner of the museum. Oh, did I mention that it is free!



We left for the South Island after a few nights in Wellington. On the ferry I was in a delirious state caused by a churning of exhaustion, a slight case of motion sickness, and pure overriding excitement for what this new land we are entering has to offer me. We made it to Pickton, the drop off point of the ferry, and by noon we were yet again on the road. Oh magnificent, beautiful, and ever so helpful winds, how much adore your presence! With a strong back wind channeling us through the valleys we moved south quickly. As the sun blazed on us we blazed through the wine county over the hills and down to that oh so beautiful blue and green Pacific ocean. Now even though it was mostly a easy flat day I have to pick a fight with some Taoist. How can I possibly do such a thing, to a group of people that I can only respect? Well, here it is! The lifestyle of following Yin and Yang. If I am correct, understanding that with magnificent high points in life there will be opposite lows, and living a life somewhere in between to avoid such lows is one of the ways of the Tao. The only thing that I can relate that to these days is my cycling efforts. You have your ups and downs mentally and physically all the time while you are climbing and descending and I just can never complain about absolute worst because the variety makes life interesting. However, the flat long stretches, the ultimate Yin and Yang balance of the road can be something to stir about. The ultimate balance can be torturous (depending on the scenery and the winds)! Enough of that rant!




The next day we did not work to hard for any much part of it. The coastal scenery was something one can only dream of. With smooth rolling hills in between the long stretches of flat and twisting road complimented with the ever changing view of the ocean and the soothing crash of the waves we were being well rewarded for little work. A stony coast line populated with an expansive seal colony was let another thing to ogle at. The day ended with a couple of climbs that lead us to a long dissent into a valley that harbored a crisp river that ended up harboring that nights camp grounds too. Dinner, a game of chess, enough sunlight to digest a few chapters of one of Henry Miller's early works, all made the night as nice as the day.



Then, something happened! The tides changed, the poles shifted, yin became yang! It was a restless night for me for no reason at all. I arose early and waited for Brandon to wake. We got on the road and within 10 km of our start my rear tire blew! This was expected because it had been showing some signs of wear for the past couple of days and it was only a matter of waiting it out. I patched the hole on the innertube and replaced the tire with my spare. We moved on. Feeling like that was in the past and the day was off to a fine start my mind was at ease, but not for long. Oh, hellacious, burdonsome, ugly winds! How I loathe thee at my face. Head and side winds soon began to torture us, my knee was aching worse than ever before, traffic was less that yielding to us, and my luck continued for to turn fo rthe worse. Uphill, the winds kicked ferociously. Downhill, was no relief. Then I blew my front tire. Flat #2. After patching and inflating the tube I realized that there was a large gash in teh sidewall of my tire that might become troublesome in the future. I had only the choice to continue on. I fought, I struggled, i cursed the wind, I accepted the facts, but no relief was in site. Soon on a long downhill, thump, thump, thump, thump... Flat #3, the rear wheel again! I fixed it fast but the tire would not keep pressure so again tore apart the wheel and replaced the innertube. We are off, and not 10 seconds later, pisst pisst, pisst, pisst. Flat #4, the front wheel again! I decided to put on Brandon's spare and toss my front tire in the rubbish. So one innertube, two tires, and three patches later i was able to finish off the day. Yin and Yang right? Better than and boring day!

We are in Christchurch right now enjoying a day off from cycling.



Much love and peace to all my friends and family. I hope to continue hearing from all of you through email or on the comments page. I love you Harper, Mom, Dad, and Erin. Keep on sending your love this way!

The other side of the road on the other side of the world

Well mates, these two cycle crazy fools have made it New Zealand. We landed in Auckland on Christmas day in the afternoon. The sky was dark, and rain continuously poured and poured as we assembled our vehicles, organized our bags, and got ready for our trek through the city to Ema's flat. Ema is a fellow couchsurfer who was courteous enough to take us in for the holiday. Combined with the fact that I was so famished when we arrive at her place and how delicious the roast smelled that she was cooking... yes I did the unthinkable. I ate a slab of chicken! It was worth it, considering that steamed vegetables were my only other option. Ema was great! She not only fed us but she gave us a quick tour of the city at night and showed us some spectacular views from a local mountain.

Not really in the mood to see the urban sprawl that is Auckland, we hustled out of the city early the next morning. It was incredible! One second we were wedging ourselves between the curbs and the traffic and the next we were in a green wonderland of rolling hills and grazing sheep. There was absolutely no gray area in between, and if there was I must have been concentrating on the blisters accumulating around my perineum (just kidding, kind of). Seriously, the terrain is beautiful. Even through some of the climbing and rain that we ran into there was pure joy resonating through out my body.

We follow the coastline/bay until we ran into the Coromandel Peninsula. I specifically remember when I woke up that morning prior to the Coromandel the first thing I said to Brandon was, "Let's take it easy on our legs today." I kept this promise to myself until we literally ran into the Coromandel. Well, I can only say that we got a dose of some serious climbing. The civil engineers in New Zealand don't really like to slowly wind you up and around the mountains. I am positive that they have cameras on the road so they can openly laugh in the comfort of their homes at the assholes who chose to ride these roads via bicycle. So, needless to say I lived in my granny gears for the rest of the day. Never again will I wake up and curse myself by saying we need to take it easy today. Expect the worst and you will probably get a pleasant surprise. In the Coromandel we checked out a beach called Hot Water Beach. We were told of how you can dig a hole in the sand at low tide and geothermal heated water would rise into the hole you dug as to create your own personal spa. We got there when all of Auckland was on holiday, so our dreams of a personal spa turned into were not quite realized. It was more of neighborhood of spas with small streams of burning hot water feeding each little spa. Fun, but crowded. That night we ended up meeting some Kiwi's (Joel and John) who were spending the holiday at their "batch." A batch is what we call a cottage. (Here is a bit of some Kiwi talk for you to translate. YEAAAH, Get your togs and your jandels we're headed to the batch.) Anyways, they were up at Cook's beach and they said we could pitch a tent at their place. They were great people, and we plan on meeting up with them again when we are in Wellington.

We have been guerrilla camping were ever we cannot make friends and arrange for a spot of land or sometimes even a garage. As I work toward becoming one with the universe, I feel that I am more and more becoming one with my tent instead. She is my baby, my life line, my home, and soon she will be a part of my soul. There have been very shot spans of time on this trip that we were forced to stay in a backpackers lodge. When we finally got out of those barracks and I began unrolling the tarp, fly, and tent I felt I had betrayed a part of my soul for staying elsewhere.

Back on track... From the Coromandel we headed south. Not much to talk about other than the beautiful scenery until we hit Rotorua, AKA RotoVegas. Tourism central of the north island with good reason too. Rotorua is the center of geothermal activity, and Maori culture in New Zealand. We bought a couple nights at the backpackers in "downtown" Rotorua, celebrated our New Year there (about 18 hours be for you slow pokes did), and hiked around the area viewing geysers, boiling mud pools, boiling lakes, sulfur pits, smoking holes, etc... I cannot say that it was the highlight of the trip: a. because I was not sleeping in my tent, b. the tourism is absurd, and c. once you have seen boiling mud how many times can you see it again?! I actually threw my back out some how, so much of the day before we left was me trying to move from the couch, to the bed, to the floor, and back to the couch. I cannot say that I am healed, but I can at least raise my arm above my shoulder! A chiropractor will likely be in order for a rib adjustment. (That one is for you mom! I just want to make sure you are worrying about me! Wait until you find out what I did in Taupo!)

We left on Rotorua on the 3rd, in order to meet our Italian friend Gio, who we met in Fiji, in the city of Taupo. What a day the 3rd was. The heroes that you all know as Brandon and Justin decided that it would be fun during the 80km ride from Rotorua to Taupo to take a break from cycling and summit Rainbow mountain. The climb was fantastic! I did not really even realize how much we were hiking up hill until the grade presented itself on the decent. I guess my legs are just numb all the time these days. The view from the top was like the view from any mountain top, breath taking.



We arrived in Taupo safely, and found our friend Gio. Some of you maybe wondering why the hell we are meeting Gio in Taupo. Well, back in Fiji we made some plans to plummet ourselves from a tiny little plane toward the earths crust. That's right, we made some plans to skydive (just typing that word makes my adrenal gland pump). Mark the date people. January 4th, 2008, I openly decided to toss myself out of a plane from 15,000 feet. I take that back! "Openly" is probably not the right world for it, well maybe it is! I had a guy strapped to my back that sat me on the edge of plane door and then openly lunged me forward. Of course, I told him prior to jumping that I wanted to flip, spin, twirl, and fly through the air. When I told him this I saw his eyes light up like a kid in a candly store, and I thought to myself, "Fuck!" He obliged. Before I even realized we left the plane we were spinning head over heals. It is almost an impossible feeling to relate to someone who has never done it before. Talk about a sensory overload. The visually stunning sceanery, the power of the air passing around your arched body, the emotional overload from before you even left the ground, the what if's, and the lack of oxygen are but few of things that one has to deal with. We were in a free fall for over 60 seconds, speeding along at speeds over 200km per hour. Spectacular! I cannot wait to do it again with less fear and more focus.










Much love and peace to all my friends and family. I look forward to hearing from all of you in emails or through the comments.