Aug 2009

So the past week has been a bit unsettled. I left the friendly confines of Wanaka and began the last stage of my New Zealand trip with plans to travel up the west coast of the south island. The idea was to get into glacier country where I had some friends who would host me, and then find some ways to kill my last 5 days before heading to Christchurch where I fly to Sydney from on Sept. 5th. The trip from Wanaka to the glaciers is about 300 kilometers up a one lane road with no meaningful civilization anywhere. You pass through Mt. Aspiring National Park which, in better weather, and with more energy I would have spent time hiking, but my trip coincided with a serious storm front. When a storm hits this stretch of coastline it stalls as it approaches the southern alps. The stretch of inland rainforest that connects the coast and the mountains is inundated with rain. The stat I read is that London, England gets about 600 millimeters of rain per year, this area gets 5,100 mm. Yea, its wet. So I got to the glacier town, Franz Josef, and met Dan and Johanna, a couple who I met in Wanaka who are presently living there and working to save money. It might be the worst place in the world to work the menial jobs offered to fledgling backpackers, but its what they chose. I stayed for 2 nights, nursed a head cold, and saw glimpses of sun through consistent sheets of rain. The weather and my health prevented me from doing any glacier hikes which is a disappointment, but I'll get over it.

I escaped Franz Josef and drove another 200 kilometers further north to the art town of Hokitika, and from there to a coastal tourist attraction called the "Pancake Rocks". I limestone creation of strange rocks formed after centuries of sea waves battering the coast. The weather this far north is more pleasant as the Alps vanish, and the storms can come off the coast and pass right over across the island. I found my way to this lodge, and struck gold by getting a night by myself in a self contained house in the rainforest just minutes from the ocean.

I awoke the next morning and vowed to push further north. I had to make some decisions at this point as I have about 6 days left before I arrive in Christchurch. North of the Pancake Rocks is the first real town of any kind on the west coast, Greymouth. Not a desirable place to stay, but an important transit hub with roads leading further north along the coast, and two other leading inland over the Alps. I chose to go further north and in fact, ended up driving the furthest anyone can drive up the coast to the town of Karamea. This place is 100 kilometers from the closest real town, and its not 100 easy kilometers. This place is separated from the rest of the coastline by a winding mountain road that twists through rainforest before depositing you in this little hamlet of a town. To go further north is only possible on foot. And of course, what do you find in a place like this other than a lodge such as this. Yup, its painted rainbow colors. Rongo Backpackers is foremost a travellers' lodge but also serves as an artist commune, organic farm, and best of all radio station. During the summer there are nightly bonfires but during the winter there is just me and the staff. Yup, I am the only person here the last two nights. My companions are a Parisian guy who has been living here for 10 months, a Japanese artist who is working on his latest pieces for an upcoming show and two Kiwis both of whom are, how shall I say this - are a bit lost. Actually one of them is a champion chess player. I have played about ten games of chess between my days in Wanaka and up here and I gotta say, its a great game. I have lost every game I have played, but this guy is good, like he is seriously very good. I caught him playing a game against himself the other day. I had a great day today, with temperatures in the mid 60s and some good day hiking. The lodge is filled with art and the radio station is the only station this side of the rainforest and plays music 24 hours a day. I DJed for 2 hours off my Ipod, its open to everyone who stays here and I had a kick getting to play some music for the 3 people and 1000 cows that are listening around these parts.

The takeaway is that Karamea is just what I needed. Back on my own, back in a beautiful and completely quiet area, and at a lodge that is empty apart from me. Yes it may be strange that Im spending my last weekend in New Zealand off the grid, but this country is best appreciated away from civilization. Its that simple. I may or may not stay here another few nights and bypass any opportunity to ski, depends on the weather.

So today is Sunday and I am catching a bus to the closest airport where I'll pick up my last rental car of the New Zealand leg of this trip. I'll then be driving back to Wanaka and north to a town called Haast which lies on the west coast of the south island. From there I have ten days to drive up the coast and across the island to Christchurch where I fly out of in 13 days. I plan on spending most of my time in the Southern Alps where there are glaciers and additional ski fields to keep me busy.

The Wanaka leg of the trip has been wonderful. The whole atmosphere of this town falls nicely in between up and coming tourist town and remote, beautifully situated, local community. It does not have the build up of neighboring Queenstown and yet has just enough in terms of restaurants, cafes, and bars to keep me comfortable for my three weeks here. I'll give you guys a quick hit list of the people and general things that I've experienced the past three weeks.

General points -

A few things have happened in Wanaka that are side notes but worthy of mentioning. Now that I've stopped moving for three weeks I have picked up some bad or good habits (depending on your POV) that are lost when you are seriously backpacking every day. First, Chief among these is going out and drinking. Wanaka has a few great bars and one very fun club. With the friends I met over the three weeks here, the wine was flowing in ways it just did not when I was on the road. Second, I have had wifi in my lodge and I've had my iphone to play with. The simple ability to roll over in bed and check your email is something I think most Americans now know as commonplace reality, and it really was very nice not having this ability for the last six weeks. Its a love/hate thing, point is, Ive had the internet back on my fingertips, for better or worse. Book reading has taken a hit, largely because, you know, Ive had people to talk to. I finished a short story collection of Dosteovsky and am now back to Le Carre spy novels....midway through his masterpiece "A Perfect Spy".

People[b]

Well there was the Matterhorn crew. Apart from the natural revolving door feel of people who spend the normal 1-3 nights there were six or so people who were at the lodge when I arrived and are still there now.
Heath - an American guy from Vermont who is skiing down here for the season. Great skier and nice guy, who volunteers at the mountain for a free season pass. His home mountain is Jay Peak so hopefully I'll see him up there.

Sophie - a brit who is a children's ski instructor at Treble Cone. She is 30 and just got married, her and her husband are indefinitely staying in New Zealand. Its nice to have the older people around, as it makes me feel a bit less weird having late 20s and 30 something backpackers to talk to.

German girls - Isabel, Tabia, and Kristina - germans are an interesting breed, as I'll get into some more below. These girls are backpacking around and got stuck in Wanaka where they worked for free accommodation at the lodge the last five weeks. It took awhile to actually get to know them, but they were all very nice and became integral parts of our communal dinners as their German food was quite good. They also helped facilitate many of our drinking nights.

Melissa - a young French-Canadian from Montreal who came down to snowboard for the season. She arrived almost the same day as me and we hung out with Sophie and Heath for many dinners.

Apart from this crew we'd have good people stop in for 4 or 5 nights who would inevitable join forces with us. I wont deny that staying in the lodge for an extended period of time gives you that seniority feeling that comes with any territory that you 'feel' like you kind of have rights to. People obviously realized that we were the long-timers, which is inherently a dorky thing to say, but it was nice to have a little clique. This weekend I am leaving, the Germans left yesterday and Sophie is out in one week. Backpacking cliques are not meant to last.

Peter and Donna - The new managers of the lodge are worth a quick mention. Peter is 45, and has 2 foot long dreadlocks, Donna is his new wife (both second marriages). They are extremely nice people who, if I had to guess, are using this lodge as kind of a new adventure for both of them as a means of starting out a new life together. Peter is the quieter one, who works as a builder in town and is an ex-pat Brit, who has lived in NZ for 15 years. Donna strikes me as a partier. I mean, they both still put down a few bottles here and there, and its just nice to see them together and putting all of their energy into re-vitalizing the lodge.

Max the German - Max is a younger guy who stopped into the lodge about two weeks ago. He looks like one of the Aryan henchman you'd see in James Bond film, cast as the main villian's muscular body guard. I can make a joke about the Third Reich, but it would probably be in bad taste, so I'll just paint this picture. He is a mountaineer and a cyclist who, when we met, was 700 kilometers into a 2,500 kilometer bike trip around the south island. Yea, the kid is biking around the mountains down here, doing about 7 hours a day on the road. He inserted himself into our little group at the lodge and before I knew it he had invited himself to come skiing with me the following day. Turned out to be great, as he kept up admirably and we had a good day skiing the back country which is best done with someone else. What I kept thinking was how Max the German was really the person I wish I had met to be my travel partner. He is a serious mountaineer and had summited a few mountains I wish I had done on the North Island. Of course, he had a partner to the climbs with, which I never found. Instead I got Ryan the Jew, who if you read back a few posts was about as far from a german aryan muscular sports guy as possible.

Fitz and one-armed Peter - This is a good one. I met Fitz and one-armed Peter on the Saddle Chair at Treble Cone. Fitz is 64, sports a poorly trimmed mustache, and talks to you as if you've known him your entire life. By this I mean, he'll reference his buddies and places and things he's done even though I have no idea who or where he's talking about. He lives in Utah, and skis Snowbird and Alta 130 days out of the year. He is the quintessential life long ski bum. He moved from Maine to go to Vail University in the last 60s, bought some property, and has lived off those investments the rest of his life. All he lives to do is ski, and in the last ten years he has become a ski racer on the elder circuit, which is how he met Peter, while he was racing in NZ.

Peter is a Kiwi and has one-arm, due to a car accident when he was two. What he lacks in appendages he makes up for in money. He and his wife own New Zealand's most successful sushi chain restaurant. He is an adventurer and life long skier who races in the handicap races.

So I met these two guys on the chair, Fitz starts talking incoherently about skiing in Utah, he realizes I am an American and as we get off the chair, Fitz is still talking so they invite me to do a run with them. Two hours later, and I've skied all afternoon with these two guys in their sixties and really am not quite sure what to make of either of them. Peter is about to call it a day, so they invite me back to Peter's Porsche Cayenne (the Porsche sport utiilty vehicle), for a few beers before heading back to Wanaka. I oblige, figuring I can bypass a few runs for this experience. I got to the Porsche we unload our gear, and Peter opens up his cooler filled with Heineken's and wine. It dawns on me that Peter is an important fellow as we end up going into Treble Cone's front office and having a beer with the mountain director. It also turns out that not only is Peter a millionaire, one-armed skier, he also happens to have a drinking problem. One thing leads to another, and Im back at Pete's mansion in Wanaka where I hang out with Fitz before heading back to the lodge for dinner. The takeaway from the whole thing is that Peter is a millionaire who likes doing this stuff. He tells me that he loves meeting the travelers in Wanaka and showing them a good time. Yes, its a bit strange that I met a one-armed old guy who in the course of an afternoon decides to go on a bender with me, but apparently, he does this thing often. Fitz was the strange guy who has seen just a few too many sunrises through bloodshot eyes, and can't stop talking about that epic powder day he got in 1984. Point is, good times were had.

There were many other people that made the time in Wanaka memorable. As for the total take away, I wanted to spend time in a ski town because I regret never having lived a full winter on a mountain. In the end, the feeling I now have departing Wanaka is that three weeks is not enough, a full season may not be enough, and ultimately when I see people like Fitz I pause and wonder if I can do it, if I could just live in the middle of nowhere and ski forever. Despite the fact that I am like a pig in shit whenever I am skiing I still do not think I could handle the isolation. Even Wanaka which has its array of culture, bored me after awhile. I can't really answer the question that I pose. I love it out in the mountains, and really could delete the rest of my itinerary and just stay here for another four weeks, but at the same time, I do not really want to be Fitz in 30 years.

A last note on photos, I have been waiting to fill my 2GB memory card before burning pics to a CD, which only then allows me to post them online. Since I have had very little to shoot apart from the town and the ski mountain, pics are going to have to wait. They'll be up soon.

I have had a lot of things swirling through my head lately. Not surprisingly the fact that my pace has all but screached to a halt these past two weeks has left me, for the first time in months, with time to just think. Since I lost my job in mid-March I can point to many factors that kind of made the lead up to the trip a whirlwind of issues. Once on the road I really did not stop to breathe for six weeks. Of course I took my time, and during the non-stop adventure of each day it felt as though I was relaxing and taking the whole experience in, but now that I have lived in Wanaka for two weeks I can say that only now have I truly stopped both physically and mentally to the point where I can sit back and ponder how I got from point A to here.

With that said, the stopping is a strange phenomenon. Ultimately, it has made me thankful that the once proposed idea of living in New Zealand and working here never came to fruition. Its not that I could not live here, its just that the stationary aspect of 'living' rather than 'traveling', now that I have experienced both, is not really what I was prepared to do. I am happy to have days here to rest and do nothing, days to just sit by the lake and take in the whole place. Perhaps it would be different if I was employed in some capacity down here but ultimately, the daily adventure that is backpacking, the planning, pushing yourself to see more and go further, brings about a natural high that the stationary life of working and living in one place, even if that place is 14,000 miles from home, fails to do. I am already itching to move on, and have picked up the guide book and begun planning the next stage of the journey to fill the free time I have here in Wanaka.

Onto some observations and updates about living down here.

1. The skiing[u] Oh boy. I guess I am thankful that I have had years and years of ski trips dampered by weather, years of impending snow storms ruined by a nice coating of rain, years of mid-February thaws to coincide with my week in Colorado because it makes what has happened down here much easier to laugh away as a simple fact all skiers and boarders acknowledge - you can't control the weather. If you recall I did have about 4 days down here that rivaled in various ways the best conditions I had ever had (kinda). About a week after my arrival, the freezing level rose to about 2000 meters (not good) and a storm rolled in dumping about 14 inches at the top of Treble Cone and rain at the base. For the next day or so the conditions were tolerable with wet, heavy snow that had yet to freeze meaning you could basically just bomb down everything on the mountain as it was soft, almost too soft. Unfortunately, immediately following this storm, the entire area saw a warm up that the locals say normally does not occur until September. Think highs in the mid to upper 50s lows in the 40s. The effect this has on a purely above-treeline mountain is it de-thaws the entire base. More than 2/3rds of the mountain has been shut for the last week due to extremely high avalanche concern. Basically one wrong turn on the base could trigger the entire winter's snowfall careening down the mountain. Already 3 heli-skiers have died in the area due to avalanches, so the warm up is dangerous and just shitty. All of what I would deem the interesting and challenging parts of Treble Cone have been closed. I am taking it all in stride. We had a cold front move in tonight and the entire mountain was briefly open all morning today. The snow is strange, in parts its a sugary and fun but heavy, in other parts its a crust that is impossible to turn in. I would be pissed if I was here for a two week ski vacation, but the nice thing about long term travel is that hiccups like this can never fully take the wind out of one's sails. And as I previously mentioned, I have quite a bit of experience with shit weather on ski trips....I'm still going to get in more than 10 ski days in the middle of August.

2. Chairlift conversations and Hitchhiking[u]. Both activities have provided the most fertile grounds for good conversations with locals and other vacationers down here. On the lifts I see largely Australian tourists, but its a total mix of Europeans, Canadians and astonishingly a few Americans as well. In fact Wanaka has a high concentration of Americans, mostly west coast, doing the double winter thing and heading back to the Rockies so ski back home in a few months. The only real negative on hitching is that it costs me about 30 minutes in the morning to hike over to the spot and wait a few minutes for a ride. The idea of giving out rides here is linked both to an eco-consciousness and to a general local townie friendliness. Locals feel as though they are supporting the 'green' culture of the area by helping people up the mountain and thereby reducing emissions. Vacationers pick up more for the conversation. Either way, the activity has netted me conversations with an array of personalities - chefs, financial analysts, mountain guides, lawyers, retirees, and on and on, just a different cross section of society each day.

I'l add more to the next update....

Its been awhile since my last post which is strange considering how much more free time I have had lately. I moved on from the bustle, affluence, and alcohol driven night life of Queenstown last week. Queenstown is a great holiday destination, but its only a good place to get stuck in if you want to go bungy jumping every day and down cheap tequila every night. About 70 miles north from Queenstown is Wanaka (accent on the first a), and is the place I chose to spend about a third of my over all time in New Zealand, roughly 3 weeks.

Wanaka sits on the shores of lake Wanaka, the fourth largest lake in New Zealand (about 30 square miles). It also sits within the boundaries of Mt. Aspiring National Park which is home to hundreds of miles of hiking, back country skiing and two of the premier skiing areas on the south island - Cardrona and Treble Cone. The town is about 3 square blocks which are dotted primarily with real estate agents, ski shops, cafes, and lowkey restaurants. The locals have kept the town generally quaint, despite the town's obvious reliance on tourism. There is money here, but its not flashy. The town center runs right up to the lake and one can snake their way through the entire town center in about 20 minutes. The locals are all outdoors driven and the central theme is one of getting out into the mountains or biking, hiking around the lake.

I am staying in the Matterhorn Lodge, which needs a moments discussion. The thing is, Wanaka, is famous for having some of the most pleasant backpackers' accomodations in the entire country. Several lodges receive some of the highest rankings in the country. The Matterhorn is not one of them. If you go to a general review site for backpackers you come to stuff like this, yikes, the reviews are really terrible, and I rightly booked a few nights at the Matterhorn only because the more famous places are hard to get into during peak season. Well since I arrived I have cancelled all of my other bookings at the more famous hostels because of what has happened at the Matterhorn. Only 4 weeks before I arrived a couple took over for the previous managers. The place is now a warm, friendly, lodge catering to older backpackers, long term seasonal employees, and well, it has a newly installed hot tub. At $15 US a night, I am no longer in a hurry to leave. Their are communal dinners and I have met several people who will remain with me the entire time I am in Wanaka, plus I have a few ski partners which is nice.

As for the skiing, I'll start with the good. Treble Cone is, as I was told repeatedly by the locals, the largest and most challenging of all the ski mountains on the south island. I arrived on the heals of 85 centimeters of snow and was told that the conditions were not only best of the season, but arguably the best in a few seasons. Indeed the three days I have skied have netted me several amazing runs with deep untouched snow. I have had to work for it as Treble Cone's back country, its best, hardest and usually untouched areas require hiking. On my first day I hiked twice and received two runs in untouched 8-12 inches of snow. These areas had been closed due to avalanche control, and I was fortunate to be skiing on the day they were opened. So all in all, I have been very lucky and have had a great time at Treble Cone. The lifts are fast, and the relative lack of vertical - about 2,000 feet means that you can tire yourself out quickly....also most of the runs are ungroomed, so the terrain is a mixture of bumps, chutes, and wind blown runs. The snow was great, but quickly got a bit harder so the skiing is better in the afternoon when temperatures warm up to the upper 30s. Its not cold here at all, Ive been skiing in a base layer, fleece, and rain jacket, which serves as my unfashionable outer layer.

I basically space out my ski days so that I'll ski every other day. Days off are spent reading, writing, and relaxing. I know, a tough life I have chosen. I have found my favorite coffee shop, and really, its so warm in town that sitting outside is usually comfortable.

Now to qualify it all. The ski areas here are small, much smaller than you'd expect looking at the size of the mountains. The fact is that New Zealand really does not receive a lot of snow coverage, that is to say, its mountains reach about 6,000 -7,000 feet and the snow line is often as high as 4,000 feet. This means that the skiable vertical is quite small. Add to that the lack of infrastructure and you get Treble Cone, which as the largest mountain, is only accessible by a scary dirt road that switchbacks up to the mountain on a steep dirt road, and once at the mountain you have two lifts....just two. The mountain is all above tree line, so the runs are really not runs at all as much as areas as you can basically ski anywhere on the entire mountain. Yes, it is steep, perhaps as steep as Colorado and certainly steeper than most of Vermont, but when you have such wide bowls and a completely open mountain face it does not feel that steep for if you lose an edge or can't make a turn, you can bail out at anytime. The chutes and back country are difficult, but Aspen has proven itself a much harder mountain. The snow is more like east coast snow because of its higher water concentration. It rains in Wanaka and Treble Cone just barely beats out the rain snow line, so a powder day here is not like a powder day in Utah. There are many good skiers here and the terrain itself is not easy. That is to say, there are few groomed runs and the pitch to the entire mountain is what we'd deem a blue run in the states, beginners do not ski here. I have a ten day pass at TC, and am excited to continue to explore the mountain as it really is much better than most things back east and offers a new take on above tree line skiing, but I would never advise someone to travel here just to ski versus going to the western US or Canadian areas.

In other random notes, I have (hold your breath) hitch hiked every day to get to the mountain. I returned my car in Queenstown and have naturally felt limited without it. That being said, the hitch hiking routine here is amazing, with a line up in the morning in a specific area and extremely short waits. I have had rides up with the chief of police here in Wanaka, the local doctor, and several other friendly vacationers. Its been a great way to meet the locals, and despite the misgivings of most of my readers, its if not encouraged, a very reliable and accepted means to get to the mountains. Buses in town charge 30 dollars for the roundtrip which is essentially a rip off.

My knee makes me feel like an old man. I had a great ride down from TC with the town doctor who knew exactly what was wrong with me. Yes, the knee has held up great skiing as the stressed area is due to walking and apparently is mostly unaffected by the motions I make while skiing. It all basically has to do with me not stretching and just not resting it. I still am unsure about my ability to do long hikes, but I have little intention of doing any hiking. As long as I am able to ski, I am fine. Its true that hiking out of the back country has been difficult, but its easily the best part of skiing at Treble Cone, so with a knee brace, painkillers, and joint cream applications, I am making the best of it.

The road to Milford Sound which was closed for a week before I went there is now closed again and has been for several days due to an avalanche that dropped over 20 meters of snow over the access road. The few residents who lived at Milford, mainly to run the kayaking and tourist boats were air-lifted out. Just goes to show you that I was extremely lucky to get in there when I did.

As for the future, I have met a great couple at the Matterhorn who are living at Franz Joseph glacier which is up the west coast. I plan on visiting them and spending about 10 days at the end of the month to travel north along the west coast and then across the island to Christchurch. I fly to Sydney to meet Jess on September 5th (labor day weekend) in the states, and we will head up to Cairns and the Great Barrier Reef areas of Queensland, Australia...the planning is in the works.

So after heading into Milford Sound we had about 3 days to kill in Fjordland National Park. Ryan, per the norm, was feeling ill and looking for various excuses to either leave and cut his travels short or alternatively lie in bed all day. I had in my head the idea that we should attempt to complete the full Kepler Trail, one of about four, famous 3-4 days overnight tramping hikes in the park. Basically all of the trails spend at least one day above the treeline, which, during the winter means you risk avalanches and need to have basic mountaineering skills. With the right partner and better weather I probably would have tried to do all of Kepler. But with a forecast of variable rain/snow and the fact that I'd be hiking solo, I set out with the intention of summiting Mt. Luxmore, the highest point on the trail, sleeping overnight in Luxmore Hut, and climbing back down the following day.

I should add that while there is an element of skill required to do these hikes in the winter, the trails themselves are designed for the masses and just about anyone of moderate fitness could do them. The hike up the mountain was a gradual 2,600 foot climb, which was pretty exhausting with a 50lb pack on my back. I got up to the hut around 3pm in a slight rain/snow storm. I had brought with me too much clothing, along with a gas cooker, sleeping bag, and a good amount of food. The hut is actually quite nice, with a nice indoor wooden stove. In winter the only utilities we had were cold running water, so it was candles and a lot of boiling water for the evening. I shared the hut with three frenchmen, probably about my age. It was nice to have a few people there. The sunrise was amazing, but it was apparent that we had a storm rolling in, so I spent the hour hike from the hut back to the tree line in a small snow storm. In the end, it was great. I wanted to get a hike into some alpine territory and this definitely worked. It would have been nice to cross the ridgeline and complete the full circuit, but as it stood, I climbed 2,600 feet and hiked 28 kilometers and was fully exhausted when I got back to the car park.

The epilogue from the Kepler Trail is that my knee, still strained from the Tongariro Crossing three weeks ago, has not been well rested and was easily the most aggravated than its been after Kepler. The good thing is that I was heading for about 7-10 days of full rest. I threw Ryan a bone and consented to bypassing our final destination of Queenstown to head into the Central Otago valley for two days of yuppy wine tasting. Central Otago lies to the east of the Fjords and just over the southern alps ridgelines, so its a protected area that is best known for its Pino Noirs. I let Ryan run the show, we had some nice weather, and personally I needed a few days of sitting around eating and drinking rather than climbing mountains.

On Friday we rolled into Queenstown. For those who do not know, this was my original destination when New Zealand travels became a possibility. Its a little haven of a town nestled on the tip of the Southern Alps and along side Lake Wakatipu. Analogies can be drawn to the beauty of Lake Louise in Canada with the bustle and tourism wealth of Aspen, Colorado. Additionaly, Queenstown is the mecca of 'adventure' sports. Bungee jumping was invited here and the main streets are lined with booking offices where you can spend about $100 to sign up for bungee jumping, skydiving, canyoning, heli-skiing, mountain climbing, jetboating, or various other adreneline pushing activities. The town is fighting the good fight against over-development, but seems to be losing. Its a hodge podge of backpackers, mostly from the UK, and mostly here to party, mixed with vacationers from Australia and the far east who are here to ski and spend money. So you have the nightly bar scene mixed with some nice restaurants and a lot of pricey shopping areas. I have been content to read my books and sit in coffee houses as I am trying to figure out what the cost of ski gear and ski tickets will run me. We have had two significant snow storms in the mountains this week, and the ski hills look to be in good shape.

My plan is to switch towns and move to a place called Wanaka, which is about an hour from Queenstown and acts as the service town for two mountains that are considered the best in the area. Additionally, Queenstown is a bit of an amateur area. Its true I have yet to see any action on the mountains, but my sense is that most people in Queenstown go to the mountains as an introduction to mountain sports. Wanaka is much smaller and caters to a crowd that is here for the mountains and not the riff raff boozy nights of Queenstown. I will remain in Qtown for a few more days so as to force myself to rest in the bars, but then its off to Wanaka for about 3 weeks and hopefully about 10-15 days of skiing.