Moving to New Zealand--Queenstown

..Living the goal..

Cacophony of news..

With a title like that, I'll leave little room for witty banter. Two weekends ago, Jeannine, Scott, Anna, and I all traveled to the "tourist capital" of New Zealand: Queenstown. It's a quaint little town surrounded by some of the best skiing fields in the world. It's also quickly becoming the "Aspen of the Southern Hemisphere" with prices and population rising quicker than the rest of New Zealand can afford. Luckily, we had a fireman with us (Scott) with access to some of the best living areas in the town. He and Anna graciously allowed us to stay in a two story townhouse above the main lake and golf course. Awesome views that rivaled even our Bed and Breakfast in Nelson.
   Anyways, besides getting back to our roots and indulging in the local Hard Rock Cafe, we went off to our first White Water Rafting trip down the Kawarau River. What was initially thought to be a wild river turned into a four rapids 30-second thrill ride--but, we had fun in between--jumping off 15 foot cliffs and watching the 63 year old woman in our boat follow suit--Jeannine also got pushed overboard by the rafting instructor. Was it something she said?
    While there's much more to say about Queenstown, I'll save it for another page, since we'll be heading there again in another two weeks with Jeannine's parents. We'll also be hitting the Fiordlands.
     Yesterday, we went on a small trek to see the Tallest Tree in New Zealand. It turned into quite a bit more.
      You see, there was this sheep stuck in the middle of a bay at low tide. It was obviously lost and simply standing there. We decided that if it was still there after seeing the "very large freakish tree", we would attempt to save it. Three hours later--our goal reached--the sheep was still there--and in two feet of mud--in the middle of the bay. Shit.
       So, Chris and I dropped our packs and stepped out into the bay. The earth, thankfully, was rather firm. We walked another 10 feet towards the sheep and fell in mud up to our shins. Again, shit. So, all concern of cleanliness aside, we ran after the sheep in an effort to push it back towards shore. It started running--the wrong way--quickly. Chris and I--mud flying everywhere---dashed after it. At one point, I was standing in its way and the bastard charged me. I thought sheep were passive animals! We were trying to save it! As it got closer--and my courage slowly went from "C'mon! C'mon!" to "Umm...are you going to stop?!" it simply lay down and crashed into the mud. We had conquered! Of course, now we had an 80lb sheep stuck in the mud. Shit.
        With a crowd of walkers slowly developing near the trail to watch our progress, Chris and I--and now Jeannine--pondered what to do. We tried pushing--no good. Chris attempted to bark like a dog--pretty funny. One of the spectators from the shore said we should flip it over and drag it back. Um, okay. So, we pulled its legs out of the mud, flipped it on its back and proceeded to drag it through the mud. Quite the sight.
         Once near shore--and covered in mud--we pushed the sheep up on land and prayed that it would stay there. Walking away, it proceeded to get up and walk right back into the bay.
          So, we threw our crap to the ground, swore at the sheep a couple times, and jumped right back into the mud to save the sheep--a second time. To make the story short, we dragged it back through the mud, up the hill and about 50 feet to a paddock. We then closed the gate, hoped to God we hadn't broke any of its bones and padded ourselves on the back for a job well done. I'm sure the sheep has other words for it instead.
           Next week, Jeannine's parents arrive. We'll then head to Queenstown, the Fiordlands, Routeburn Track, and The Queen Charlotte Park.

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