All the miles and constant change of scenery had slowly been creeping in, and by this point in the trip the kids were hinting towards a slight lack of interest in "seeing new things." At first it was just lil Mel, potentially worn out by all the getting in and out of the car, of hiking and all the daily change, but now, the siblings were beginning to band together.
It's a tricky task to navigate as a parent, but we do our best to be gentle and easy about it. And always....always...keep it positive.
We pulled into Kingston, and checked into the nicest place, by far, that we've stayed. If the place in Tuatapere was like a palace, this place was a sheer modern luxury. It was honestly just like a normal hotel room you'd find in the states (plus a little kitchenette), but it felt absolutely grand. Complete with activity bags for each of the kids, you could imagine, the kids were not the slightest interested in going out on yet 'another walk' to see this new place.
But the magic of Teddy and John Yarrow (the two stuffed animals from my and Corey's childhoods that were chosen as the two travel companions for the whole trip) made very convincing and endearing arguments. So, slowly but surely, the stubborn barrier was melted down by sheer stuffed cuteness...and we were off on foot yet again, making our way through playground, neighborhood street, and down to the stony beach on the south tip of Lake Wakatipu.
And these two stuffed companions, helped our two road-weary companions, engage joyfully and playfully in yet another beautiful landscape in this stunning bay nestled between mountains.
After time elapsed, playing in the driftwood tipi, skipping stones, and sitting to take in the beauty...I had the urge to run up to the small store to grab some dinner supplies. As I meandered down the single aisle of food, suddenly lights were being shut off and the store was closing! Whewh, how's that for timing?!
Dinner in hand, we enjoyed a simple feast of beef stew, bread and butter. It felt cozy to set a table, and tidy our things, even if just for a night. After baths and watching videos of Cook Strait ferry crossings in stormy weather, it was snuggling into big plush beds for some good sleeping.
The morning I burst awoke before the rest of the family with a seed of a plan Corey had planted in my mind the night prior.
Determined, and despite a morning in the mid 30s, I hauled the borrowed SUP board down to the lake side, pumped it up, and set out onto the cool misty waters of dawn.
Mist swirled above the lake. I listened to Hebrews in The Message and pondered the challenges of faith. A bit troubled by my own lack of "feeling" in this area lately, I pondered what it means for one to still find a "need" to press in deeply and passionately, when in a season of life that doesn't necessarily provoke such desperation? Or, stated another way, as I heard in a podcast a while back that I've been chewing on ever since...
"So what, of the poet who has been healed?"
As the awareness of my own personal futility settled like a heavy weight in in the face of the passage, suddenly the classic "heroes of faith" passage began. I was challenged and reminded by those that have pressed on in their commitment to the faith even when the "why" or "where" of the call was not always clear. And perhaps in my case, what does it mean to press on (or press in rather) when it isn't necessarily fueled by deep desperation...?
Hands thoroughly frozen, I turned back towards shore.
Just then, the sun burst over the mountain. The cheerful warmth taking my breath away, flooding my being with light. Turning my face towards the sun, I sat and took a brief pause, then, it was a fast paddle back to shore. To rouse children from beds, for breakfast and the scramble it ever-is to check out before 10am.
Naturally, another hike was on the horizon for us. So after some coaxing, we hit the Shirt Trail Track in search of the lookout that was reasonably in view. To our surprise, the kids were in high spirits, happily running up the switchbacks through the trees. We heard a waterfall, and ducked through some bushes and over boulders to check it out.
Seeing a small footpath continue on the other side of the waterfall, we naturally had to investigate. Perhaps it's a shortcut to the summit?!
Stepping across stones and we began clambering up a rugged trail. Roots, tree branches, stones, and the occasional climbers rope made for necessary support in this technical climbing. It went on and on, below a large rock face for quite some time, not seeming to make much progress towards the summit.
We were loving our adventure on this side path, but Corey's inclination won out, as we found the trails end; a final clearing surrounded by thick bush. Peering up at the towering rock face, indeed, we must have found ourselves the trail for rock climbers.
As always, heading back down often requires more attention to detail, the kids continued in jovial chatter as they navigated the super rough terrain with careful calculated steps.
Crossing the waterfall agin, kids were eager as ever to continue up the switchbacks and make their way to the lookout, so onward we went!
We found another waterfall crossing, passing the sign warning of "Hazardous trails ahead when wet" and entered into a red beech forest, drastically different than the trees and trail we had just been on.
It was nothing short of a vertical climb through this leafy forest, with stones and roots to help us find our footing and handholds. Danforth and I quickly scrambled on ahead, while Melody happily chattered with Corey close behind for safety, steadily making progress.
Then at last, the "summit"...or our summit lookout spot at least!
It was expansive, complete with a refreshing breeze, and we sat and took it in along with some good laughs together at some general family goofiness.
As we eventually turned to descend, I reminded everyone to proactively "thank your legs for all the work they're about to do for you!"
After the technical bit, Danforth and I felt the gravitational pull of the downward paths, and gave fully into it, running along so fast we could hardly stop ourselves. Corey and Melody smartly attended to their sensitive knees, and we all rendezvoused at the bottom.
After devouring a parking lot picnic of heavily salted avocado or peanut butter/honey on grainy bread, we loaded back into our stuffed caravan to continue on our road northward bound.
-M
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