By Lucy

Sorry for the delay in this post! You’ll soon see why.

My fridge froze itself open. I noticed it a few days ago, and tried pushing it shut with a log. No dice. Once there was enough ice on the ice box to hold it open, it kept drawing in moisture and growing.

Friday was my other day off, Thursday my last night on the sauce. I didn’t sleep well, oddly; my back hurt. Too much swimming in the pool? Compensating for my ab workout? Just slept wrong? That sucks, I was hoping not to wake up in pain for once.

I spent the morning playing Stardew Valley. I expected to find it less realistic now that I’ve been on an actual farm, but I’m amused that I’ve noticed subtle details that someone who hasn’t been on an actual farm would include. I was doubly amused to be reminded that my favourite person in the game is Linus, the old man guru who eschewed society to live in a tent in the woods. Hey, I have a real live friend like Linus in Hanuman! Life imitating art.

As it drew to noon, I debated what to do with my day. It was far too nice out; 20 degrees, sunny with cloudy spots, a light breeze. I debated sitting inside and playing Stardew Valley all day, but I made myself get out of the house.

Ethan was washing down the windows on the cabins. “Hey, can I borrow your truck?” I asked.

“Sure.” He dug the keys out of his pocket and tossed them down to me.

“When do you want it back?”

He shrugged. “No time in particular, I have no plans.”

“I’ll put gas in it.”

“You’ll have to, you won’t get to Lake Coleridge with what’s in the tank.”

How do people live with their gas tank constantly empty?

I packed myself a sandwich and a banana. I wasn’t quite hungry enough to eat before I left, but I’d be hungry before I got back!

As I was driving up the road, I got stopped by a kid on a dirt bike herding a bunch of cows down the middle of the road in the direction I was travelling. He gestured for me to roll the windows down and told me I could go thru, but I was at a loss as to how to do that. I imagine honking the horn would be a good way to piss off a beast that weighs 600 kilos, times however many were in the herd (cows kill more people than sharks, FYI). I just kept rolling forward whenever a cow moved, and eventually nudged my way through the herd.

When I went to remove the gas cap to put gas in the truck, it hissed at me, as if it was equalizing pressure. That seems concerning! But then, it’s lost at least one ball joint, cuz the steering wheel wobbles side to side if you aren’t holding it rigid.

The drive up to Lake Coleridge was gorgeous as always, even if the mountains were missing their pretty snow caps. The road up to the hike is gravel and quite a messy one at that. Not necessarily too much for the bike, but when you consider I have to come back after the intense hike as well, the increased time as I baby my bike down the road, and having to carry my gear with me, it was much better to have borrowed the truck.

It always makes me chuckle, that there is a small river you cross to reach Lake Coleridge called the Acheron. The Acheron is one of the rivers you must cross to reach Hades, along with the Styx, and it certainly feels like you’ve crossed some invisible, spiritual line.

The town is also called Lake Coleridge, despite being on the Rakaia river and not the lake itself. It started as a builders town.

As I pulled up to the sign for the hike, I noted 3 other cars. I was not the only one interested in the hike, so this wasn’t as remote as I’d been lead to believe.

Then, as I got out of the car, I realized the mountain before me was Peak Hill, the hike I had picked. It was barely more than a rock sticking out of the grassy field, the ascent quite steep.

Hm… not too late to go back and just play Stardew Valley?

The first part of the trail goes through a farmers field, maybe 500 meters. It’s all uphill, but just a gentle incline.

After the farmer’s field is the steepest part of the climb. The trail is barely marked, beyond there being a post with an orange tag on it every 100 meters. Parts of the trail have washed out, and people have decided to make their own path, so it’s hard to follow. There’s lots of loose stones over the hard earth, making the footing treacherous. I had to keep stopping to catch my breath.

Another problem is that the side of the mountain was littered with gorse and spearweed, both stabby. Spearweed look like some kind of succulent, with stiff, spiky leaves that cut like a knife. Gorse is from the UK, and has pretty yellow flowers that conceal large spikes, like roses. The limeys brought it over for hedges, but now it’s the most invasive species in New Zealand and they’re fighting a losing battle again it. Both grabbed at my clothes and raked my ankles and hands as I passed by.

It was tough going almost straight up and I almost gave up more than once. It took me the better part of an hour and I gained 300 meters in elevation, but the view was amazing!

I sat down for a little bit on the flat bit here, ate my banana and took a Tylenol. It has a sign and a lovely view of Lake Coleridge.

Lake Coleridge is actually a glacial lake, created when the glaciers receded from this area around 8’000 years ago. It’s not naturally fed by rivers and has no natural outflows, although humans have diverted a river to feed the lake now, because it’s used for hydroelectric power. Up until 500 years ago, it was dominated by subtropical forest, but settlers burned down the forests to create the Canterbury plains.

The next bit is the most flat part of the climb, but it’s a new kind of treacherous. It crosses a narrow spit of rock that is entirely exposed to the gale-force winds coming out of the Southern Alps. The wind caused me to lose my footing and the pictures do not do justice to how thin the walkway is and how far down 300 meters of spiky gorse and jagged rocks are! It only took me ten minutes to cross, but I sat down behind rocky outcroppings twice just to get relief from the Nor’Easter.

At the point I had been passed by everyone who’s cars I had seen in the parking lot, including one Chinese family who’s mother warned me to be careful.

There was some flat-ter bits out of the way of the wind, and then a scramble up some bare rocks that was still better than the loose gravel of the path at the beginning. I was surprised by how far up I was going, and the fact I was still going! I was almost level with Mount Hutt, which still had snow and is used as a ski hill in the winter! I was passed the point where it would be snowing here and raining at the bottom. I wondered how far I could ascend before I’d start getting the bends and this counted as mountain climbing and not hiking.

Then I looked up and I had made it.

There is a pile of rocks taller than my head, of people who have made the ascent, so I dutifully put a rock on the pile.

I sat down with the rock pile sheltering me from the relentless wind, and had my sandwich while I watched storm clouds roll past. It hit me again – I had really gotten on a plane and went to New Zealand, and was just wandering around like I owned the place!

It was wild to get a new impression of mountains. I never thought about it before, but they really are just bare rock, thrust up from the magma that birthed them. There’s no opportunity for dirt, plants or animals to colonize them, so without snow they are just slowly growing gravel piles and nothing else.

I knew there was the estate somewhere out there. The Canterbury plains with their straight lines and unnatural homogeny forced onto them by the white man, but on this side of Peak Hill was just pure, untamed alpine wilderness. The so-called “braided” rivers still carving their paths through the land. The road south of here, through the mountains, is still closed. Not conquered yet.

I had 3 bars of 4G at the top of Peak Hill, curiously. I noted that the sign says the elevation is 1240 meters, but my phone said it was 1260. Well, the Southern Alps are the fastest growing range in the world… maybe it had grown 20 meters since the sign was put there. Also, pity the fool who had to carry that sign all the way up here, cuz no way was any motorized vehicle ascending this mountain!

It gives me shivers to think of it, so starkly laid out. Somewhere below me, the tectonic plates were grinding against each other, pushing me up so slowly it was imperceptible. The gem green, crystal clear water of the lake, almost untouched since they melted 8’000 years ago and came to rest here.

New Zealand used to be part of a larger continent called Zealandia, two thirds the size as Australia. The rest of Zealandia submerged when the ice melted at the end of the Last Glacial Maximum (the correct term for when much of the Earth was covered in ice, as most people know by now that we are still in an Ice Age), but it’s still there, sleeping, barely 100 meters below the surface of the ocean. What we can see now is the results of shingle being burped up by the tectonic fault, flowing down alpine rivers to the sea, and collecting against high points of the shelf to create an elevated platform. They’ve discovered terrestrial mammalian fossils, which says that in some lost age, there was indigenous mammals and a more robust fauna range than when even the Maori found it.

What is especially interesting is that there was definitely a period where the mountains hadn’t formed yet and all of Zealandia was beneath the waves, waiting.

I can just see it now, the tall podocarps thick on the hills, Moa and dinosaurs wandering through the humid, shaded woods. Haast’s eagle high in the sky, like the legends of dragons carrying away horses. What a beautiful, magical place. It takes my breath away. There’s nowhere else in the world like this.

For the first time, I realized what my parents had taken away from me when they convinced me not to be an archaeologist. Not many people would climb a mountain in the middle of nowhere and wax poetic about the ancient history of the rocks.

Maybe there’s space, somewhere in my plans, to go to Lakehead part time and get a degree in Geology or Paleontology. Just for funsies.

Eventually I had to get down. The sun was setting and the mountains were starting to cast shadows, so cold would quickly follow.

I texted Simo a picture from the summit with my surprisingly good service. She replied that Lake Coleridge is her most favourite place in the world, and she’s done the Peak Hill hike in aeons past, which is why she wants to stay in Methven after she sells the estate. I can’t say I blame her; this place is so magical that the Dalai Lama himself said Castle Hill, a mere ten clicks away, is one of the most spiritual places in the universe, and you can feel it emanating here.

Climbing back down was as treacherous as climbing up, but in a different way. My legs were fatigued from the climb. The gravel slips more readily from under your shoes when your feet face the other way, and there’s further to fall when facing downhill. No rocks within reaching distance to steady yourself. At least the ferocious wind was at my back.

At a few points I actually got down onto my butt and slid down the hill rather than risk falling and plunging face first down the mountain. I did fall twice, though; the first time, I had the presence of mind to throw myself backwards so I’d land on my butt, but unfortunately I landed on one of the spearweeds, which sliced my hand open with a thousand needles! My hand was covered in blood but they didn’t bleed much, although it did sting. After that, I threw on my motorcycle gloves, which had been in my bag, and they protected me from the next fall.

At one point, about halfway down, I noticed a great shadow crawling across the land. I stopped and looked up, thinking it must be some monster of a storm cloud, but it was just some little spit high in the sky.

Eventually I reached Ethan’s truck and crawled gratefully inside.

As I drove back home, I noticed some hitchhikers by the side of the road. I would have picked them up, but there was nowhere for me to drop them on the way that would make any sense. Where they were made no sense – they weren’t near any population centres or even one of the many lodges around here.

I went upstairs to return Ethan’s key and to give him the few shots of Crown left in the bottle. He likes Crown and I was thankful that he gave me the free beer for Luke. He opened the bottle and smelled it.

“Ah, smells like high school.” He says with a smile.

You need help, sir.

I slept in Saturday. First night without alcohol is always dodgy, although I also keep getting woken up by possums jumping on the roof.

Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I went out to feed the chickens. The first round went about normal until I was almost done waiting for the water dish to be filled up. Two chickens started fighting, as they do, but then one fell down and didn’t get up.

Umm? See, these chickens are the “young” ones, they shouldn’t be dropping dead. Was it stunned? Did the other one kill it on purpose?

I ran to grab Kelly. In the time that it took me to get her and come back, the other chickens had started pecking at the eyes and red floppy bit on its head!

Kelly shooed them away and picked it up. “It’s still alive!” Its head hung limp, as if its neck was broken.

Don’t chickens live for a bit if you cut their heads off? I wonder what happens if they break their necks.

She took it into where we store the chicken feed. We set it up with a towel, some food and a bowl of water. It appeared to be standing on its own, but its neck was still flopped to the side like a colourful tassel.

We went down to clean and turn over the cabin that Jan had vacated. He did not clean it, although it wasn’t that dirty but he had said he would! He had used up all the sugar, and he left behind the bag of kiwi fruit he had complained about being expensive. As I changed the sheets on the bed, Kelly says, “This online liquor supplier is having a Black Friday sale! If you get it shipped to my work, it’s free and then I can just drop it off.”

Begone, temptress! Ah, I couldn’t resist. “How much is a bottle of Baileys?”

“49.99”

Ten dollars cheaper than the store in Darfield. I couldn’t resist. I pulled a fifty out of my wallet and handed it to her.

“Have you heard from Jan since he left?”

Not really. He sent me a selfie when he got to where he was going, which was odd because the selfie didn’t include any details of where he had ended up, just grass as a background. And then silence after that.

Dinner was a steak, with fruit salad made from Jan’s kiwifruit as a dessert. Over dinner, Gary mentioned they were heading out to Akaroa next week, and I exclaimed, “When can I go?”

“You want to go?” He asked, looking perplexed.

“Yes!”

Sunday was the showing day, so we were a-flurry again, cleaning and dusting and attempting to keep Simonetta calm. Because the agent had said a housekeeper could be present, so it was decided that I would pretend to be the housekeeper. I suppose some people would say I am a housekeeper, but I’d argue an au pair is a more accurate title for what I am.

After we were done cleaning, I changed into a button up shirt and a nice pair of black trousers that Kelly was gifting to me because they don’t fit her anymore.

Kelly barked at me for stepping on the freshly mopped floor, so I retreated to the TV room to sit on the couch with Gary.

“You really want to go to Akaroa?” He asked again.

“Yes, that’s the job ad I replied to to end up here.”

He thought for a moment, then grabbed the phone. “Hello, can I book three rooms for this week?”

That’s it.

I was going to work on the house!

Yay!

The showings went well. The prospective buyers barely batted an eyelid at the “housekeeper” seated in the living room, placidly drinking a cup of tea. One couple were quite enthusiastic about the place and wanted to turn it into long-term accommodation. They seemed to think I was renting the cabin from Simo and asked me about the laws for rental places (I mean, I suppose I am, but not in any legal contractually-binding way). They also jokingly asked if I come with the property.

Later, at dinner, it was do or die time.

“Are you going to be ok without me?” I asked Simo.

“I should be fine. I had the lodge closed on Wednesday anyway because I am going to Christchurch, and Thursday for the showing.”

My heart twisted with guilt anyway. I felt like I was abandoning her to chase the almighty dollar.

“What time do you want me ready?” I asked Gary.

“Quarter to 8.”

I was going to Akaroa.