Christmas in Kea

An attempt at being less enigmatic and more straight-forward for a change:



In most cultures there exists some celebration in which an individual is recognized as becoming an adult. Various manifestations include graduations, confirmations, etc. Symbolically all of these events are indicative of an individual maturing in the physical, mental and spritual realms - becoming, to a greater or lesser extent, autonomous. My sojourn around Christmas became a personal variation of this idea, though I was unaware of this outcome from the outset.

News of another week off work because of the leg was upsetting, my mind's ramblings were convoluted and I decided I could probably get away with some "light" hiking for a few days. So I went to Kea Basin. A kea is a bird that looks like this: (click). The basin is on the South-East side of Mt. Earnslaw, one of the more prominent mountains seen from Glenorchy. Not too far, but out of the way of nearly everyone.

I was given an unwarranted car to borrow with low idle/fuel injection problems, but cruised like a go-cart on the unpaved "roads." I got hiking around 8:45 PM. Simple hiking tasks seemed impossible: -Couldn't find the trail -walked waist deep through glacial creeks for an hour or so -couldn't get a lighter to work -white fuel burning on my pant legs... Settling in, I suppose, to mindfulness of the present and nothing else.

Woke up on the stream bed surrounded by sandflies (think no-see-ums). Found the trail, lost it and found it just in time for me not needing that trail anymore. Across the meadow, under an electric fence for sheep and cows, through bogs and up into the beech forest.

A couple hours and x-meter elevation gain, Kea Basin opened up. Never have I seen a more peaceful, magical, sacred area in my life. Two canyons pouring from the glaciers, which met up in the basin to become the final canyon down to the valley. A perfect day and noone around.

I played all day around the river and meditated through it all. I slept up on a bluff high outside of the basin, where it seemed like I could reach out and touch the glacier, which constantly made growling noises. Or was it thunder?

I was awoken by a large gust of wind. Time to finally test out the personal bivy. I had used it to fight off sandflies, what about high winds and storm while fully exposed?

Rain all the next day (Christmas). I made my way to an actual rock bivouac - an overhanging rock where underneath had been built up shelters and fire places. I spent most of the day there in mediation and writing, with one trip to get more pure glacier water. Clear stars that night.

Weather cleared on the hike out, and I visited a couple of shacks before making it back to the car. One final swim in the bluish water and it was time to tackle the road - a new challenge in light of the recent storm.

Back to Queenstown. The mind has been quieted for the first time in recent memory. The main purpose of the Hobbit (there-and-back-again) journey showing itself to be to a development of a stated current personal life philosophy/spirituality (always subject to revisions and additions) that strives to be as congruent as possible to doing positive/constructive works.

Full undadulterated photos from the journey are available here: (click)