Took a bite out of a mountain range

What the?

Apparently I have run out of photo space on my blog and need to purchase some if I want to put any more photos up?

Ha.

I am trying to work my way around it by signing up for Flickr.

Today marks the entrance into our final month here. It is also the last day of term 1 which means all the boys (except for a dozen international students) have all gone home for the 2 week break. Brian, Helen and Maya just left for Easter camp. We didn't go. Scotty has a final exam coming up and I am all camped-out from Mount Aspiring.

Frustration. Exhaustion. Awe.

Three words that sum up our week in the mountains.

The photos speak for themselves- the Mount Aspiring park is stunning (I have way over-used that word), and we never would have seen that part of New Zealand if we didn't volunteer for the camp. The first half of the week was a battle against the "I'm 14 and too cool for everything" attitude, but for the last 3 days, the boys relaxed and felt the freedom to just be kids.

END OF THE ROAD. THE LODGE LIES A 15 MIN WALK THROUGH A FIELD AND ACROSS A RIVER BED.

SMOKE MARKS WHERE THE LODGE LIES

MY MOUNTAIN MAN. GRIZZLY BEAR. WOLVERINE. WOOLEY MAMMOTH. SABRE TOOTH... THE NICKNAMES KEEP COMING. 

I should have seen it coming when we were asked to make dinner mere minutes after dropping our bags off in our room. Brian had tried to warn me, and I said that I would be just fine- I had worked long days in the kitchen at Qwanoes and loved it. I failed to remember that it was the mischevious coworkers that made it so fun (being the go-to kitchen wench because I was the only female was not so fun).

But four days later, I hung my dirty tea-towel in the warm-room after 13 hours on my feet and I felt a burning rage growing inside of me. Cooking for 26 people requires some skill (which I have, thanks to my Grandma Werdal), but DISHES!?!?! A monkey can do the dishes. The boys were supposed to do the dishes, but they were 14 and "too cool" so trying to chase them around and make sure they actually washed the dishes was almost more exhausting than doing them all myself (and I sort of did- so many needed to be rewashed). My female, Canadian politeness got really screwed (as the other staff disappeared very quickly when it came to clean up) when I saw the guy who made breakfast in the kitchen doing the dishes (it's a rule: the person who cooks does not clean!). I filled the other sink and got to work, and then it's 10 pm and I haven't heard very many thank-you's and I've seen this teacher's butt crack for the 18th time today (why can't he cover that shit up ?), and I am hungry because I couldn't eat half of the carnivorous meals I just cooked and mashed-potatoes and minted peas (awful, just awful) don't constitute a proper vegetarian meal. I stomped up the stairs, pulled my kitchen-stink clothes off and zipped up my onesie and transformed into a giant woman-baby.

Frustration. Exhaustion. Awe.

THE KID GIVING THE THUMBS UP WAS A MAN OF MANY TALENTS. HE COULD DO THE MOST WICKED SHUFFLE, HE COULD KNOCK ON HIS HEAD AN MAKE IT SOUND HOLLOW, AND HE COULD DO THE OLD MAN'S VOICE FROM FAMILY GUY (BRIAN COULDN'T KEEP IT TOGETHER WHEN HE BROKE OUT THE ACCENT).

THE KID'S ROOMS OPEN UP ONTO THE DECK. STAFF ROOMS HAD MICE IN THE WALLS. NOT FAIR.

BRIAN SHOWING HIS HACKY SACK SKILLS. BEING THAT THESE KIDS WERE BORN IN '98, THEY HAD NO CLUE WHAT IT WAS. BRIAN'S MAGIC TRICKS REALLY BLEW SOME OF THESE BOY'S MINDS.

Day four made me fall so much more in love with my husband because he hugged me while I sobbed, and listened to my over-tired rant and then he stroked my hair while I calmed down enough to fall asleep.

The next morning I woke up to a day off. Scotty and Brian worked something out. We didn't go on the overnight camp-out, and instead, we got the lodge all to ourselves (the deal was that we would have dinner ready for them the following night). We drove into Wanaka (a Whistler-esque party town) and had the most amazing Indian food (my favourite meal in the past 8 months). When we got back to the lodge, we bundled up and followed a creek-bed up into a ravine, turned off our flashlights, and gazed at the hundreds of glow worms clinging to the rock faces.

JUST A REGULAR KIWI ROADWAY

WANAKA. LAKE TOWN IN THE SUMMER, SKI RESORT IN THE WINTER.

HOT (NOT EVEN INDIAN) GAVE ME THE SWEATS

GLORY. GLORY, HALLELUJAH 

My spirit felt rather restored after falling asleep in front of the fireplace.

Instead of plain old spaghetti, I hand-rolled 150+ meatballs for  dinner.

I got a lot of thank-you's.

Having shouldered the majority of the kitchen duties, I didn't step a foot in it for the last 2 days (which is a lie because I have control issues, but I did cut way back).

THE BEARD MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE AN OURDOORSY GUIDE

I FLIPPED IN THE PURPLE KAYAK. BRIAN HAS SKILLS THAT I DON'T (HE CAN FLIP OVER AND THEN BACK UP)

NOT A CANADA-APPROVED WAY OF TRANSPORTING KIDS, BUT WE'RE IN NZ- ANYTHING GOES.

ALMOST ALL HIKES, BEACH ACCESSES, CAVES ETC. TAKE YOU THROUGH FARMERS' FIELDS. THESE LITTLE LADDERS ARE EVERYWHERE AROUND NEW ZEALAND. NO BODY CARES ABOUT YOU WALKING THROUGH THEIR PROPERTY.

GENUINE KIWI DAG

THESE SHIRTS ARE ALL THE RAGE AMONGST THE TEEN-BOY CROWD. THEY CALL THEM TAIL SHIRTS (THEY'RE SHORTER IN THE FRONT AND HAVE A POCKET IN THE BACK... THE LINING OF THE POCKET HANGS DOWN BELOW THE HEM OF THE SHIRT)- PROVING THAT I AM OFFICIALLY OLD BECAUSE I DON'T GET IT NOR LIKE IT.

I LOST ALMOST 2 INCHES OF SOLE. I EVEN GOT DRIED SHEEP POOP INSIDE MY BOOT THROUGH THE HOLE IN THE TOE.

Highlights for me were blowing these kiwi kids' minds with a watered down version of "Mission Impossible" Qwanoes night-game style (they play a game called spot-light that is the least-creative game ever), being humbled as my sit-in kayak (never been in one before) flipped me upside down in the glacier fed river and having to rescue myself as I drifted upside down trying to figure out how the heck to get out of this thing. Hiking up to see the Rob Roy Glacier in a pair of Helen's boots and have them crumble to bits along the walk (the rubber soles literally fell off by the time I got to the top turning them into ski's), and rock climbing. Really really loved the rock climbing. We've done the outdoor real rock climbing thing once before on a youth trip several years ago (literally, we're coming up on our eight year anniversary). I wanna learn to climb. Nothing hardcore, just something to do on a Saturday in the North Shore mountains (you hear me Corinna?).

ROCK CLIMBING AT WISH-BONE- SEE HOW THE WATERFALL SPLITS INTO TWO LIKE A WISHBONE?

WALKING THROUGH A FIELD OF COWS TO GET TO OUR ROCK CLIMBING SPOT.

WE HIKED UP TO THE ROCKFACE, SO IT MADE YOU FEEL PRETTY HIGH ABOVE THE GROUND  EVEN BEFORE YOU STARTED TO CLIMB.

SCOTTY IS SERIOUSLY FAST AND FEARLESS

I COMPLEMENTED HIM ON HIS DREADS

I AM TERRIFIED OF HEIGHTS BUT LIKE CLIMBING... GO FIGURE.

I COULD SEE MYSELF BEING A LAWN BOWLER. TELL YOUR GRANDPARENTS TO WATCH THEIR BACKS.

NIGHTLY WRESTLE

The trip came to a poetic end as the bus pulled to the side of the road and Mr. Crack stood up to announce: "We'll be stoping for lunch in 15 minutes, this is just a toilet stop. I'm gonna take a slash" (slash is kiwi for crap).

FRIENDS ARE FRIENDS FOREVER