Exit Light, Enter Night

... Take my hand,
I'm lost in NeverNever land.

Or so it felt after an hour of driving through the enchanted forest with the talking trees in the black of evening, but I'm ahead of myself - that's the end of the day. And to think, I didn't even have my pillow, as it'd torn into 27,347 pieces the day before on a bus in Tahiti (note to travellers - those handy-dandy neck pillows that are used when sleeping on an airplane make an enormous MESS when ripped asunder by forces stronger than say, your average pigeon pulling on a worm - the little balls inside FLOAT in the air whenever stirred by a breeze the strength of a whisper, and they have a tendancy to STICK to things with very little visible adhesive qualities, like say one's skin... the ladies on the bus in Tahiti were THRILLED to be wearing my pillow as they exited the bus - but I'm already digressing. I promise, I'm getting to the riverboarding part!).

Remember that Ice and I slept (I use the term broadly) in the airport in Auckland when arriving from Papeete?

Yeah, that's where we're picking up the story. At roughly 630 AM, I was gently awakened by a 372 lb Maori manchild who mistook me for an appetizer. ok, kidding on the last part (obviously! hello, we're in New Zealand here, not New GUINEA - that's the next island over bozo), but there were some LARGE Maori guys stepping over me and whispering in tones to wake the pteradactyls (the large dinosaur-birdy things, you know, that fly and sound like enormous crows - how do we know what they sound like, anyhow?), so I peeled off my turquoise blue Tahiti Nui sleepmask and socks, took out my bright orange pistol range earplugs, and stood on my head to get the blood going. ha. it was GORGEOUS outside - crazy trees visible from the parkway.

Once our shuttle got to us, Ice and I were off to the races. After our version of a Goldilocks re-enactment (too small, STILL too small, just right) we finally upgraded from a Corolla to a bus, complete with right hand driver side steering wheel and peddles, and a MANUAL transmission on the left. I drove for the first 30 seconds as agreed (to get out of the lot, since the ride was in my name), then turned the controls over to my brother, who to his credit did a pretty doggone good job relearning to drive on the fly. He served as the designated driver the entirety of the trip with no mishaps (other than coordinating with Kev to get us lost 47 times, driving the wrong way down one way streets 18 times, and running over a few animals).

The exchange rate was AWESOME. seriously. loving NZ. much better than the FAKE exchange rates in Papeete.

After several hrs of driving through Jurassic Park

(no seriously, it looks like the freakin' movie, sans Rex & Co, but replete with anaconda-sized eels in the rivers), we came upon a smell so dreary, it woke something in my head, the memory of sulfur sadness, the stench of what was dead... and we were  to Rotorua (and the smell WASN'T just the guys' feet after 3 days in a plane - the place is filled with sulfer eruptions). After trying to no avail to reach Kev and Regan at the X Backpackers Hostel, we drove down the street and nearly ran into Regan, who was styling on the busiest corner in town in a manner that all who know and love him know is simply Reganesque. ok, so he was standing there with a big grin on his face waving at us. but the sentence before sounded better, yeah?

soo, after putting an APB out on Kev, the feds finally found him - I think he was busy getting lost with his atlas of Rotorua as a warmup for our adventures...

seriously though, while Kevin is a LOT of great things (punctual, organized, dedicated, and funny, for starters) a badger with that same doggone map would have likely had more success the first two days. how we actually FOUND the rivers is beyond me. this is no joke - while attempting to get out of the SMALL town to the first river we had planned on running (the Kaituna, which is frequented by IDIOT rafting guides, by the way, who know as much about riverboarding the Kaituna as they do Bill Clinton's interest in chimeras - which is to say, NOTHING!), we turned ALL FOUR DIRECTIONS onto various roads leading out of town  under Kevin's guidance, since he had the map, the route, and apparently, the plan. Seriously, he had done a BUNCH of homework on NZ and had put together a pretty doggone good trip, but those map reading skills...

After Ice's THIRD u-turn in a mile (each time predicated by Kevin saying, "oh wait, I think it's the other way), we finally ran out of "other ways" and headed out to Kaituna (home of a large falls and dumb river guides). the area is ridiculously gorgeous, as the pictures will show. incredible. 50 foot FERNS with edible stems (as we later found out, thanks to a really cool Maori) that taste like

asparagus.

(what, you thought I was gonna say 'chicken'? c'mon, its a FERN for goodness sakes). but the ferns were growing amongst cyprus and pine trees in a vast rainforest. just awesome.

oh, and the river was GUSHING - THROUGH the rainforest.

looked to me like a recipe for disaster, or at least, a healthy decapitation. Tuitea Falls (which is a 22ft healthy chute at normal water) appeared about as inviting to me as a romp with the already mentioned T-rex, with a NASTY undercut at the bottom right GUSHING water 15 feet into the air every few seconds. snap, crackle, pop. and those are just the big bones breaking.

Even from 150 feet up, its still imposing.

Regan was excited to get his proverbial feet wet, and Kev was also down for the run, but Ice and I thought the conditions were just too risky without safety, which we could not set, not to mention there was only a SMALL chance of getting out at the bottom without zipping through the VERY lowslung forest and OVER Trout Pool Falls (where 18 people have drowned in the past few years due to the recirculating hydraulic - that thing looks like Scylla - or is it Charybidis? you know, Homer - ok, nevermind. it's a story, told by a Greek guy, about another Greek guy named Ulysses, who fought in the Trojan War, and his Odysey home). *tangential reference to literature deeper than comic book warning*.

anyhow, we left to find some less flooded rivers, only to see some "river guides" at their ramshackle barn.

I jumped out and ran to ask their opinion of running the Kaituna. "Yeah, go for it - someone we knew ran it earlier today." dunno if they thought it'd be funny to see us in Trout Pool Falls, or if they'd just fried the last two working braincells amongst them. Regardless, we headed out for the Rangataki.

and got lost.

again.

a few times.

after the 7th u-turn, we took away Kevin's map reading priviledges for the moment.

after 20 minutes of foraging along gravel roads, we FINALLY came to what appeared to be the CORRECT gravel road (come to find out, the guidebook Kev had gave SPECIFIC directions to the 1/10th of the kilometer - which was part of what made the day so hilarious - I can't remember the last time I've laughed so hard, or so often). walking up the track was a Kiwi in a shorty, who asked for a ride, since he'd lost his boat. I needed to stretch my legs anyhow, so I volunteered my seat and commenced walking the track towards the river, munching on trail mix I'd brought along. speaking of which, that sounds good now.

ok, I'm back.

the nice man gave us advice about the Rangatiki. "Just watch out for Rock A and Rock B at the top of the first rapid (seriously, those are their Christian names). The rest is gravy." Apparently he was related ( on his mother's side) to the rafting guides at Kaituna.

after gearing up and getting in, we carefully pulled out above Rock A, only to discover it was harmless. thoroughly annoyed now, we jumped back in. I decided to just let it rip, and went flying down through a straigh 1/2 mile stretch of fun (New Zealand) Cat III and III+ water, checking over my shoulder every so often to see where the other guys where. I couldn't see them, but figured they were just getting used to their equipment, enjoying the scenery, or catching eels in the river, so I bombed forward. As I rounded a bend in the middle of a decent Cat III burp, I happened to notice a good-sized horizon line dead ahead about 40 feet, nearly river wide.  A big smile grew across my face, and I headed straight for what looked to be the steepest drop river center-right.

Kicking hard through the crest and then pulling my board up as I dropped 8 feet or so through what we later discovered was Jeff's Joy Falls, I stuck the landing clean and came out into a large eddy pool.   I spun around and started gesturing to the guys I knew must be close behind that a falls was coming, and to run river right and go over the drop, but for some strange reason I was largely ignored. I did get a good chuckle watching the pinwheels as the guys came through. Not to be outdone though, the river handed me my lunch on a platter the next 2 times I hiked up and reran the falls, as on one occasion I actually got my board stuck between a literal rock and a hard place while jumping in and swam over the falls, board in tow. all in all though, it was a wonderful warm-up run for the days to follow. Jeff's would be a likely Cat V in the US, though ranked a IV or IV+ by the guidebook there (I called it a IV+ too, which made Ice say its a  normal persons V. Whatever that means).

Regardless, the hike out was a V+. Apparently, Regan moonlights as Sacajaweah in his free time, as he seemed to sniff out paths made in the 1700s by small rodents, and nimbly followed them, Kev close behind. Unfortunately for me, I'd chosen to wear a Farmer wet suit to leave my arms and shoulders free in the water. It gave my much great manouverability in the H2O, but absolutely ZERO protection from the thousands of thistles, thorns, berry bushes, nettles, and man-devouring insects we encountered on the hike out. Equally unfortunate was Ice, who was stuck behind me on the "trail," and consequently, he stopped to soak in tributary streams a few times while I thrashed through the brush like an angry bear.

Did I mention that I dropped Ice's brand-new, waterproof digital camera in a pool below Jeff's Joy while preparing to take a picture of he and Regan? Kev was Johnny on the spot, diving in to divert the flow while I hunted around on the bottom for the lost equipment. Fortunately, God was smiling on us, and I found the camera no worse for wear, even managing to snap some shots while they came over the falls.

Then came the drive back to Rotorua, the Kev & Ice collaberation with the map and road signs, not seeing a light, a Maori word sign (you KNOW you're lost when they haven't named the place yet!!) or another living soul for like, oh, an HOUR, as the gas gauge dipped to empty...

shortly before we ran out of gas, we overtook some MINERS in a 1948 Jeep Willys on their way back from prospecting for gold or something. after they stopped their rendition of "Clementine", they directed us towards town. after passing a huge surreal factory that appeared seemingly out of nowhere, we finally sputtered into a gas station.

sleep came easily once we reached the hostel.

Docta P
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