Kaumira Canyon May 26

I found myself back in my old field area from 2006 to do a couple days of follow-up fieldwork in the Hunter Hills. I had a great time, in large part because every farmer or farmer's wife I met in the area were absurdly friendly and happy to have me look around (the total opposite of the West Coast landowners I have to deal with). One bloke even seemed overjoyed when I said I was a geology student- he introduced himself, shook my hand, preceded to tell me of all the rock outcrops around and told me to "go for my life" in checking out any of the streams on his property. I met up with a fellow Dunedinite to do a partial second descent of Kaumira Canyon. A very steep track rapidly rocketed us above the fog and presented us with a panoramic view of snowy peaks and blue ocean. Despite prolific neoprene, we both found the trip to be quite cold. The last waterfall was pretty unique- a two-stage rappel through a rock bridge. The water levels were up from recent rain and snowfall and caution was necessary when rappelling through the guts of it. Due to time wasted freeing the rope from the last rappel, the high water levels, and diminishing light and body temperature we made the [in hindsight smart] decision to not go down the second half of the canyon. All my gear froze stiff and I spent a frosty sub-zero night camping. No more canyoning until summer! Thanks to Lara.

Red Spur Fieldwork May 10-14

I took advantage of a hopeful window in the weather forecast to run out to the West Coast to do a bit of fieldwork. I found winter fieldwork to have its trade-offs: the rivers are low, but the tops are covered in snow; the weather is cold and the days are short, but there are no sandflies or humidity. The snowy drive through Central Otago was ominous, but cleared up once we got further west. Overall, the weather was quite suitable.

The first day was spent slogging up a creek which quickly turned to a thick and steep bush bash to reach the tops. The stunted vegetation growing on the iron-rich mantle rocks near bushline were particularly thick and unpleasant. I found yet another key outcrop that will require rappelling into a wet waterfall. The second day found me rappelling off a 60m landslide scarp with ricocheting rocks raining all around me. It was incredibly nerve-wrecking (one of those ideas much better on paper)- all it would take is for one of those rocks to hit me or nick the rope at high speed. Somehow I managed to take numerous measurements, 6 samples, and not drop anything. Unfortunately, the outcrop was good enough that I might have to consider returning for another go. I found the Martyr River Alpine Fault outcrop to have improved in several ways in the last two months and the low river level helped me to piece together some new interpretations. I managed to get a great oriented sample of the Australian-Pacific plate boundary! The last day we pushed to gain and cross Red Spur to reach the Livingstone Fault outcrop which was covered in snow. Stunning panoramic views of the Jackson and Cascade Rivers and of the Tasman Sea...until the fog and rain rolled in. The days are so short that I didn't have enough time to get to where I knew there would be outcrop, but I amazingly managed to find an outcrop and plenty of float in the mossy cloud forest. Thanks to fieldy Megan, who was a good sport throughout the whole trip.

Above: I rappelled off the landslide with hanging wall mylonites

Some interpretation

Monkey Puzzle Gorge

Cascade River from Red Spur

Livingstone Fault Zone (trees like Caples terrane rocks not Dun Mountain Ophiolite 

Somehow I managed to find an outcrop in this!

Paturau April 10-15

It was another touch and go as I returned from teaching the second year geology field camp at Borland, packed a few more things, and was off bright and early the next morning for the marathon drive across the South Island to one of my very favorite corners of New Zealand. A few key stops and detours, good music and great company kept the drive manageable. There is always a worry when revisiting a particularly special place that it will not live up to your memories of it, and thus in the revisiting, you taint the significance of the place in your mind. That was no issue as I showed up to the Easter caving weekend at Paturau and was bombarded with the familial friendliness I remembered last time around. These are my people.

Within the first 15 minutes I was offered three separate cups of tea! Gear was moved to make room for my tent in a prime spot sheltered from the wind. I was invited into tent trailers for chats. Familiar faces from a year past and new faces greeted me all the same. Easter weekend is the big family weekend for New Zealand cavers. Cavers and their families flock from all across the country to converge at an idyllic, grassy paddock between a lazy tannin-stained creek and the Tasman Sea near the end of a long, isolated dirt road. Camper vans and tents of all shapes and flavors give the appearance of a circus. Over a dozen kayaks sit next to the river happily loaned out by their owners if you feel like going for a paddle up the creek to the lake. Children sliding down hills on retired "Green Party" signs, biking around the camp, and older kids trying out their balance on the slackline. Also in attendance was a parrot who constantly sat on a man's shoulder and a tricycle-sized rabbit (a.k.a. the "Easter bunny"). Laughter was persistent. I couldn't help but smile. It was the 20th anniversary of the Easter weekend caving trip so Saturday night there was a big potluck dinner in the woolshed with about 80 people in attendence. Photo albums from years past were available for browsing and someone's sheep was roasted on a spit (I can't remember her name but she was delicious).

Easter day was like a week of vacation amalgamated into one day. I started off with a morning walk on the beach. A Easter egg hunt was staged for the kiddies. After some pretty unsuccessful attempts at the slackline, I went to a beautifully decorated cave by the name of Echo Valley Palace and happily snapped photos. Parents carefully took their kids through holding them by their hands. One little one slept in a backpack. Giulia and I decided to take the long way back by continuing the hike up the hill and then traversing the ridge to enjoy beautiful views of lake, limestone and sea. Next we borrowed some kayaks and paddled up to the lake, brewed an amber red by plant tannins. After a swim, I found two nikao palms and set up my hammock. I kayaked back to camp, then climbed a limestone cliff rated a 16 (easy) with a few others enjoying the weather by not going underground. A 4 meter high boulder was rigged so that kids could practice climbing and rappelling. Noticing the lengthening shadows and softening light, I retrieved my camera and ran down the beach to get to my favorite spot several kilometers away with the amazing sculpted limestone. I missed most of the good light but still merrily snapped photos of the miraculous patterns and forms. After the light left I slowly walked back, enjoying the clear evening until I was stopped by a fisheries volunteer on a quad bike. I might have been annoyed except he offered me a ride back to camp which I gladly accepted! I then sampled the elaborate homemade hot tub, followed by warming myself by the 2 meter high bonfire as I reflected on the day. I slept soundly.

The next day I got to climb an awesome limestone climb with a 2 meter high stalactite I used near the top of the climb. I don't know the name or the rating, but it challenged me as I am not in the best climbing shape at the moment. I found a new hobby in photographing interesting mailboxes (notables include a microwave and a dryer tank). Giulia and I leisurely (detours to Takaka, Paynes Ford and Harwoods) made our way back to the caver hut on Takaka Hill, my home away from home.

A long, grueling drive brought us to our good friends' place in Akaroa. There are indeed worse places to retire to! An evening of lovely food, company, art, books and music was the perfect end to a rejuvenating holiday. It was the kind of holiday that filled me with vigor, life, motivation and wonderful memories, all of which hopefully will be slow to fade.

20th anniversary potluck

Octogenarian about to go caving

Photo by Giulia

Photo by Giulia

Borland April 4-9

I helped teach a second year field camp looking at a folded and faulted basin and the underlying igneous and metamorphic rocks in, and near, Fiordland. Weather started solid for first two days before spawning snow, rain and horizontal blizzardy sleetiness. At one point we were caught exposed on the beach by horizontal driving sleet for a long 15 minutes; students huddled together like penguins, all facing downwind. Students were less than engaged when the weather was roaring but in all it was a good trip. Exhausting, but enjoyable. The trip was largely a geologic tour encompassing road cuts, river sections, alpine exposures and beach outcrops. We got to see the Green Lake landslide, the largest in the world at 26 cubic kilometers, which was rightfully impressive. Similarly impressive, one of the professors often known for his tangents, managed to lecture students on the proper ways to formulate successful treaty agreements while looking at pillow breccias.

Above: Deep geological discussion with intense southerly storm t minus 10 minutes away.

Pillow basalt (seal for scale)

Haast Pass Canyoning Mar 28-29

I'm starting to lose the distinction between work and play as both seem to involve rocks and suffering to a large extent. This weekend was my first serious foray into canyoning in New Zealand. Divergent from most canyons I have done in the US, these ones are wetter, colder and slipperier. In a country with rapid uplift, previously extensive glaciation, hard rock and excessive water, there is an abundance of dark, narrow, waterfalled gorges, many of which have yet to be descended. My new found canyoning buddies and I did what is likely to be the second descent of a canyon by the name of Jubilee Creek (we probably started higher than the original group). This canyon had an abundance of awkward rappels and downclimbs on slippery rocks, but was still a great adventure as there was zero signs of humans and we had to select or make our own anchors. This canyon had about six abseils with one that we bypassed because of a particularly nasty looking log wedged in a raging waterfall right where you would go down. All told it was about 6 hours of shivering in a thick wetsuit. Not the best canyon I've done, but good company and a good adventure.

The second day we descended the classic canyon in the area, Cross Creek. It was 3 hours of bliss if you could get over how cold your extremities were. Beautiful abseils to 30m, numerous jumps to 9m into emerald green pools, several slides, giant potholes, some slot sections, kilometers of beautiful folded schist and even a natural rock bridge. It was just a consistently fun canyon. I am convinced I need to get a waterproof camera (all photos except first two are courtesy of Julie and Chucky). We scouted the water levels in the bottom of some of the nearby canyons and the other canyons look awesome. I cannot wait for a return trip. This trip was only the tip of the iceberg! Really keen to do some first descents in the future.

Wilsons Creek

Jubilee Creek

Cross Creek

OK so it was not all suffering!