The One Tourist, Two Hippies, and Three Germans

Disclaimer: To mom and my ‘other moms’, I promise not to be so stupid the next time I hike. Alright, now you can read on…

I was beginning to wonder how brilliant my idea was to hike 6 hours of cold exposed mountains by myself when I saw two people in the distance. At least I wasn’t alone and if I fell down a cliff (there were moment’s where I came a little too close for comfort) they might hear me yelling. I picked up my pace to catch up with them, and after about 20 minutes, found myself surprised to hear them talking perfectly normal whilst I was huffing and puffing my way up the mountainside. I was even more surprised when the young bucks I was expecting to catch up with turned out to be an extremely fit couple old enough to be my parents. The hikers might also qualify as the two biggest hippies living outside of Humboldt County.

Not wanting to intrude on the couple’s day out, I continued on my way alone. The 20-mile bike ride I had undertaken the day before was not helping my legs as the gentle slope of the mountain’s base began to increasingly become steeper, rockier, and more snow covered. At one point, due to the cloud cover, the visibility I had was 15 feet in any direction. My legs kept punching through the snow- causing me to lurch forward and use my bare hands in the icy snow to pull myself out. Out of nowhere a few German boys came into view, I asked how the summit was before finding out they had given up and were turning back. Probably a smart idea, but I was feeling adventurous. I mean, I was a Girlscout after all, and I figured that counted for something!

The last half mile of the hike I was frantically hoping the indentations in the snow I was following were actually footprints, otherwise I was wandering aimlessly and completely S.O.L. if I couldn’t find my way back. Just as I was getting ready to throw in the towel, the clouds cleared enough for me to see another steep rise just ahead. With the wind howling, I decided to climb that peak, and if the trail (or lack thereof) continued I would still relinquish my attempt and try to summit another day. Lucky for me, the 15 minutes of slipping and stumbling my way up was rewarded with the apex of the Ben Loman Track! If I could see father than a few feet, I’m sure the view would’ve been breathtaking

What really mattered is that I had conquered several hours of intense hiking and overcome my own doubts to reach my goal (without killing myself or getting lost). Within minutes those pansies from Germany showed up –having following my footsteps (literally) and obviously not wanting to be outdone by a scrawny American girl. We were making more formal introductions when the hippies, appearing from the mist, joined our soiree.

It turns out Phil and Lorraine (aka hippies) are Americans who moved to New Zealand nearly 20 years ago. On the hike down I listened (trying to swallow laughter at times) as they told me their life philosophies. I endured over 2 hours of bashing the war in Iraq, voicing embarrassment over George Bush (shocking- I know), informed me that western societies poison themselves daily with things like sunscreen and cleaning products, and described how using worms is the only responsible way to dispose of food. Then came tales of the neighbors. Phil and Lorrraine lucked into a house that now lies smack in the center of prime vacation real estate in Queenstown…the lush property value doesn’t diminish the number of crazies in the area.

There is the obsessive compulsive who is married to a chain-smoking alcoholic. A few doors down a manic bi-polar genius. Across the way is a multimillionaire grandma who owns 7 or so houses around the world but, for unknown reasons, chooses to live in a modest 2 bedroom that desperately needs a renovation. Lorraine’s favorite neighbor though is a paranoid schizophrenic who involves the whole neighborhood in his bizarre schemes, while Phil rather enjoys razzing the swindling accountant who married into big money and is now spending the family fortune on several $5 million dollar mansions (among other vain investments). By the time we reached town the three of us were fast friends and I’d penciled in a dinner to meet the rest of the family.

Whether hippies or squares, I seriously love the locals.

-Ashley

Fun Fact: A few nights ago during a toga party, a couple was caught on security cameras doing the ‘deed’ in the darkly lit theater room.

Rather than dealing with it quietly, the hostel printed the most provocative of the images and posted them everywhere. They then spent two days announcing (on the hour) how many YouTube hits the video had received so far.

Whenever the offending girl or guy leaves or enters a room, everyone breaks out in chants of “TOGA TOGA TOGA!”

Only in New Zealand folks…