Rivers, rain and rope

Here's the second of three retrospective posts about the road trip Chris Ogg and I took around New Zealand's South Island in January 1995. Our first full day in Queenstown was spent ticking off its popular sights. This was my first time in Queenstown, so I was determined to experience as much as possible. As a result, we took time out to ride the Skyline Gondola, visit the historic township of Arrowtown and cruise Lake Wakatipu on the SS Earnslaw.

We also spent half a day jetboating up the Dart River. It was a truly magnificent experience. Our boat threaded its way from Glenorchy along sinuous river channels weaving through the river’s gravel beds before stopping for a brief scenic walk. We then raced up an increasingly narrow channel framed by truck-sized boulders into the rainforest below Mount Earnslaw. Here we stopped for a second photo opportunity.

I vividly recall how stunning the Southern Alps looked with the last of their winter snow under a vivid blue sky. It’s also the first time I can recall marvelling at the vivid turquoise blue water of New Zealand’s alluvial rivers. Their unique colour comes from fine granite silt particles, or glacial flour, suspended in the water.

The following day, Saturday 7 January, we drove to Milford Sound for the day. Along the way we stopped to admire Lake Te Anau and the Cleddau Valley that leads into the Homer Tunnel. The forecast for the day was for heavy rain. While we were hoping for better weather, the experience was nevertheless spectacular.

As we exited the Homer Tunnel, we were greeted by a sight I’ve never seen before or since. The tunnel opens out into an ancient bowl-shaped glacial valley framed by soaring granite cliffs. The rain was pelting down. All around us the cliff face had been transformed into an endless parade of waterfalls cascading into the valley below. Years later, Garry and I drove through the same location on a sunny day. Not a single fall was visible.

We took a sightseeing cruise through the sound, stopped just short of the heads as a heavy swell was rolling in from the Tasman Sea. Again, everywhere we looked the soaring mountainsides were alive with waterfalls. Sadly, we didn’t see many of the Sound’s stunning mountain peaks. However, the experience of being immersed in a misty and watery landscape was genuinely breathtaking. Incredibly, the weather was dry and warm in Queenstown upon our return.

On Sunday, we departed Queenstown and made our way to the West Coast via Haast Pass. Again, another experience that had been on my bucket list for years. As we drove out of town we passed the AJ Hackett Bungy Centre. This is the world’s original bungy jump site. It operates from an old suspension bridge over the Kawarau Gorge. On a whim I decided to give it a go. Nothing would convince Chris to do the same.

I recently got the video of this jump converted from VHS to MPEG. I’ll eventually load it here. Until then I've saved a handful of screenshots that tell the story. My most vivid memory of my jump was simply the shock I felt upon hearing the wind whistling in my ears. I’d not expected to hear anything and could only recall hearing such a sound while travelling at speed on skis or riding a motorbike. The jump itself was fine. It was just the unexpected sound that did my head in.