OMARAMA - Hues of the Blues

OMARAMA 

Gotta love these New Zealand names and trying to pronounce them eh?

Anyway, when we pulled into the campground in Omarama, Danforth and I were completely useless. Barely able to lift our heads. It was a sad sight at the playground, Danforth up in spurts to try to enjoy the fun attractions with his sister, but soon joining me laying on the ground.  Corey set up camp, and he and Mel prepared dinner for the invalids. They jutted off for a little excursion afterwards, and Danforth and I watched the beginning of LOTR in the TV lounge.  

Turns out that was a very bad idea just before bed and on top of a feverish mind.  Despite my attempt to be conscious to skip visually scary parts, & mute the volume in other parts...it was just enough to provoke the imagination.  

I shuffled around to get us ready for bed in the dark, a damp sort of chill in the air.  I missed a chance to speak Spanish with a bathroom full of Latinas (which is very unlike me), and returned to our tent feeling pretty low with a few tears creeping in.  And of course, they way things go, back at the tent I come to find a teary Melody who states "Mommy, I'm feeling a little bit down."  I climb up the ladder, listen to her heart pour out all that she's homesick for, I wrap her in my arms, and we cry. Corey joins not too long after, and offers reassurances to all of us, and soon both kids are fast asleep. 

I'm up several times in the night to console Danforth through his nightmares, my body pulsing with aches of sickness. Crammed in my little allotment of the 2 man tent that is presently sleeping a family of 4. 

Needless to say, road weariness has fully settled in and we have the blues in Omarama.  After constant change, & constant cramming of bags, no matter how beautiful the scenery, the lows are just an inevitable part of the journey.  But we're together, and that matters most above all. 

The morning, as it often does, brought new grace.  Aided by showers followed by tea in the warm morning light, there is a calm air of refreshment over the family despite being up throughout the night. Danforth and I are seeming more capable of remaining in upright positions thankfully. We pack up and are off, to check out a nearby sight and to continue our northbound journey. Only slightly delayed by a herd of sheep crossing the road, we arrive!

CLAY CLIFFS

Through open flat lands, under brilliant sun in cloudless sea of blue, and dry desert air all around, the climate and vista very much resemble Texas. 

We pull up to a gate, pay our $5 entry donation, and drive up a bumpy dusty road to a parking lot.  And there, jutting up like an oasis of sculptures, we get our first glimpse of this novelty. We trek up the path under the blazing heat and stand and marvel once we enter in. 

Taken from the billboard at the entry:

"The Clay Cliffs are a classic example of a badlands' terrain, with steep-walled 'box canyons' and numerous towers and pinnacles. The Clay Cliffs are developed in a tilted sequence of weak sedimentary deposits. The grey and white sandstone and claystone were formed in an ancient lake that once existed here, and the yellow and brown layers are gravel conglomerate with silt layers, deposited by an ancient river.

The erosive action of wind and rain over many thousands of years has eaten into the sedimentary layers, producing the spectacular landforms."

Spectacular indeed.  We scrambled around and through the towering corridors, the cool shade a welcome reprieve from the heat. The passageways were quite a challenge to climb upward, with steep slippery stone underfoot. It was like a maze of clay and sandstone, of endless exploration and climbing up to peaks of clay. 

Moments in corners of the world such as this, stand as pillars to remember WHY we keep moving. Even when our feet ache, when the sun is hot, or when sickness of body or heart make us yearn for the comfort of our own beds. 

Standing in a maze of nature's carved clay in the middle of a desert is something we'll never forget. Those aches and discomforts will blow away in the breezes of our memory one day, leaving only the sculpture of one incredible adventure together. 

An adventure wrought with many shades of blue.

-M